He rose, and the solicitor scrambled up after him.
“One last thing,” Blaise said. “You willgentlyinform her of the legal position. But you will also inform her that I have chosen to clear Hentley’s mess and to provide for her relocation. I do not want her thinking the law has taken everything and given nothing back.”
“You are concerned for her good opinion, Your Grace?” Mr. Earnest ventured.
Blaise could not get the image of her in his red room out of his mind.
“Yes, I am concerned that a woman who has been used as a purse and a shield should, for once, find herself on the receiving end of a decision not made at her expense.”
He smiled then at the old man, who nodded in agreement.
“And,” Blaise added, “I find I have little patience with dead men’s ghosts cluttering my halls. I will not have my nephew walking under Hentley’s cracks.”
CHAPTER 6
“Where is he?” Iris whispered to Mrs. Henkings.
The housekeeper looked around conspicuously before she quietly said, “In the study, my lady.”
Iris had foolishly hoped that returning to Hentley House would restore some sense of normalcy. But the moment she stepped inside, she knew nothing would be normal again because she sensed thathewas there.
“I will go to him,alone.”
The elderly woman looked at her uncertainly but politely nodded with understanding.
Iris stomped her way to the study where the Duke of Knoxford sat as though he owned it, although technically he did. The fireplace was the only source of light, and its glow contoured the sharp lines of his face, making him unfairly irresistible. Iris felta strange tinge of jealousy for the harsh shadows that clung to his skin. He lounged in her chair with one ankle crossed over the other, and a cigar resting lazily between his fingers. Smoke curled upward in slow, deliberate ribbons, filling the room with an unfamiliar tobacco scent.
The sight of him sent a treacherous heat through her. Iris had the sudden urge to crawl to him and ask him to press her against the wall again and kiss her until she forgot her own name.
“Did you say something, Little Blossom?” She nearly stumbled at the sound of his voice and could hardly believe where her own mind had been wandering.
Of course, he heard me.
His gaze slid slowly over her body, lingering on her traveling gown. He did not bother to stand up to greet her. Before she could gather a single word or demand why he was still inherhouse, inherstudy, and inherchair, he spoke again.
“I have some good news,” he said slowly with an infuriating smirk plastered on his face.
“Are youfinallyleaving?” Iris asked, flashing him the fakest smile.
His eyes darkened when they landed on her lips, and she involuntarily gulped.
“No, Little Blossom. Fortunately for you, you are stuck with me.” He winked and placed the cigar in his mouth.
Iris briefly imagined how his lips would feel against hers. She crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly and watched as His Grace’s eyes traveled to her bosom.
“Well? What is it then?” she asked him impatiently.
A cloud of smoke surrounded his face as he said slowly, “Your debts are paid.”
She had been repairing Hentley House bit by bit and had never imagined restoring it all at once, let alone hearing those very words.
“I beg your pardon?” she managed to ask in a small voice.
He tapped ash into the tray, utterly unbothered. “The debts your husband left for you.” He spoke slowly, as if to a child. “They are gone.”
She stared at him, unable to move.
“Gone?” she repeated. “The debts I have been working hard to pay off for the last seven years are gone in a matter of hours?”
