“I am not here about the debts,” she said before Papa could continue. “Something else has occurred.”
Both turned to her at once. She steadied her voice.
“The new heir of Hentley House has arrived.”
Papa’s brows drew together. “Earnest wrote that he would be in town, but I thought?—”
“He did not write,” Iris broke in. “He came himself. Without notice.”
Margaret straightened. “How improper of him.”
“Improper is one word.” Iris forced her fingers to relax around the porcelain. “He announced that Hentley House, and everything in it, is now his. And that I have been… trespassing upon his property.”
Papa flinched as though struck. “He said that to you? Himself?”
“Yes.”
Margaret’s indignation crackled. “What an odious man. Did you throw him out?”
“I attempted to,” Iris said, remembering the click of the latch between them, the feel of his hand on her wrists, and the astonishing, infuriating heat that had shot through her. “He did not leave.”
Papa scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked older all at once, not just from grief but from the weight of all his daughters’ fates.“Earnest will look into it,” he said slowly. “But you must know, my dear… as the widow of a viscount, you have no legal claim to the main estate. The house itself passes with the title.”
Iris had known, but she had simply hoped for some fortunate tangle in the law. Hearing it so calmly stated made her realize that perhaps she was in the wrong.
“I signed every paper,” she whispered. “I dealt with every man who came to sneer at the furniture and paw through the plate. I thought… I thought that must count for something.”
“It does,” Papa said gently. “It counts in justice, if not in law. The new heir has a duty to provide for you and to support you suitably.”
“He cannot cast you into the street,” Margaret said fiercely. “If he does, I shall?—”
“You shall do nothing reckless,” Papa said, but without heat. His attention stayed on Iris. “Listen to me, daughter. Until Mr. Earnest has confirmed the particulars, the wise course is to keep the peace with this man. He holds more power than is comfortable over your circumstances.”
It is far too late for that.
Iris chewed on her bottom lip.
“I do not think he and I are likely to be… compatible,” she eventually said.
“Compatibility is not required.” Margaret waved a hand. “Only civility. And you are the calmest of all of us, so I am certain that you would not provoke him. Men with titles dislike being thwarted.”
Iris almost laughed. The Duke of Knoxford was pushing her limits and enjoying every second of it. She was anything but calm around him.
“I will speak with him again,” she said at last, surprising herself with the certainty in her own voice. “About our new circumstances. And surely there is some arrangement to be made. I do not believe that he would simply strip the house from me… or at least I hope he would not.”
Papa nodded, relieved to have something he could call a plan. “Yes. Speak to him. Be frank, but… conciliatory.”
Margaret snorted. “You sound like Mr. Earnest.”
“It is regrettably sound advice,” he said with a weary smile. “We will see what the solicitor discovers. In the meantime, you must not let despair run away with you, Iris. You have survived worse.”
Had she?She was no longer certain. Widowhood had been a shock, followed by a long, satisfying settling. But this feltdifferent. It was as if someone had reached into her chest and begun to unwind the one thread she had wrapped around herself for seven years.
“I will see you at dinner, dear.” Papa stood up shakily and waddled to his chamber, leaving Iris alone with Margaret.
Rain began to patter against the windowpanes, soft as tapping fingers. Margaret curled her legs beneath her on the sofa, all her decorum abandoned as usual.
“Tell me everything,” she said. “From the beginning. And do not leave out the dreadful parts. They are always the most interesting.”
