Camelia tilted her head, and she seemed to see through Iris. “If you say so.”
Iris sobbed, and the sound surprised her. She could not stop the tears from falling now; the floodgates opened. Camelia immediately acted, allowing her tears to flow. She reached over and wrapped Iris in her warm arms. They leaned into each other like they did when they were children and when they lost their mother.
“Can I stay with you, please?” she asked through her sobs.
Camelia sniffed. “Of course you can! Where did you imagine you would go?”
“A little place in the country,” Iris said dreamily. “Far from London. Far from him. A village where no one knows the Hentley name, where I could be Mrs. Smith and spend my days arguing with tradesmen over cabbages.”
“Dear heavens.” Camelia pressed her fingers to her lips, half laughing, half emotionally distraught. “Iris, you cannot simply take yourself off to a cabbage-filled village alone. What will become of this family?”
“Society has already decided I am shameless and that will ruin our family’s reputation,” Iris said. “I might as well earn the distinction.”
“They can all be damned!” Camelia cussed, earning a small laugh from Iris.
“Are you certain I can stay? It will just be for a little while, at least. Until I know what shape my life must take now that it is not arranged around Hentley House’s leaking roof. And until I can bear to be… alone with myself.” Her mind drifted as she imagined how she would build her confidence again after ruining herself.
Camelia pulled back and faced Iris fully with a soft smile before pulling her into a fierce embrace.
“Yes,” she said into Iris’s hair. “You can stay for as long as you like. We will make up a room for you at once. We will go through this together, as we always have, and someday, you will look back on this week and hardly recognize yourself.”
Iris let her head rest against her sister’s shoulder.
“Do you truly think so?” she murmured.
“I do,” Camelia said confidently. “You are the bravest person I know, Iris. It frightens me, sometimes, how much you think you must carry alone. I am proud of you for coming to me now, instead of locking yourself in a freezing house and pretending everything was fine.”
“I suppose that is an improvement,” she said wryly.
Iris thought of Blaise’s dark, intent eyes and how he had shown her that wanting isn’t a sin.
She looked at her sister, who was staring at her dreamily.
Oh no.
“What is it you are thinking about?” Iris asked cautiously.
Camelia laughed softly. “Who knows, Iris, the scarred duke might change his mind and come right to this door and propose.”
CHAPTER 29
Uncle,
Please accept my apologies for my absence from the ball. I understand you may consider me an ungrateful individual who prefers to immerse himself in books rather than fulfill his responsibilities and greet numerous young ladies. You may be correct. Nevertheless, Oxford holds its own principles of duty, which are not disposed to granting second opportunities.
I had an essay on Thucydides due the following morning, and my tutor made it clear that if I failed to meet the deadline, I would face expulsion. I did not believe you would appreciate your carefully devised plans for my progress being impeded by my inability to control the word count.
You might suggest that I should have balanced both a ball and an essay. I endeavored to do so. Ultimately, sleep prevailed. Or rather, unconsciousness did. You once advised me that a man must recognize which battles are worth fighting and whichwill only result in being bloodied on both fronts. Last night appeared to be such a situation.
I trust that your celebration was a success and that your “impossible widow” did not cause you excessive difficulty.
I shall visit London once the term concludes, should you still desire it. Kindly refrain from complicating my life prior to that time.
Your ungrateful nephew,
Marcus
Blaise’s mouth tightened as he reread the letter.
