She still carried shame for what had happened to her family, and now she felt worse that Camelia planned to sell herself to save them, but Iris looked at her sister, who was glowing, and she felt a strange sense of hope.
“Are you happy, Camelia? After everything?” Iris asked quietly.
“Yes,” Camelia said without hesitation. “And perhaps you, too, deserve to explore some happiness, Iris.”
Iris smiled at her sister. “Perhaps I do.”
Even if it was just quenching the fire the Duke of Knoxford had ignited within her.
CHAPTER 16
“The carriage is ready, Your Grace,” Kennedy announced as he met Blaise in the entrance hall. The young, loyal footman stood rigid in his presence, but Blaise noticed that his confidence was slowly growing. “The bay team is fresh, and the bags are stowed.”
“Thank you, Kennedy.” Blaise nodded, adjusting the cuff of his traveling coat. “Where is Lady Hentley?”
Kennedy shifted on his feet nervously. “I believe she is in the library, Your Grace… with Mr. Earnest.”
Blaise’s jaw tightened.
“Earnest?” He exhaled sharply.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Very well. I will see to it before we depart.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode down the corridor, his boots echoing sharply against the polished floors. Blaise heard the low murmur of voices drifting from the library, and he immediately set his instincts on edge. He did not bother knocking; instead, with a firm push, he shoved the door open, letting it swing wide and clang loudly against the wall.
“What is the meaning of this?” Iris’s sweet voice rang through the room before he saw her.
“I should be asking you that,” he shot back.
Iris stood near the writing desk opposite Mr. Earnest. The solicitor clutched his hat tightly in both hands, and his face paled when Blaise glared at him.
“Your... Your Grace,” the solicitor stammered, offering a hasty bow.
Iris’s amber eyes flashed with annoyance, although she tried to compose herself. “Mr. Earnest was just leaving. Thank you for your time, sir.”
The old man needed no further encouragement. He mumbled a quick farewell and hurried past Blaise as though fleeing the scene of a crime, his footsteps retreating rapidly down the corridor. Blaise closed the door with a deliberate click, then turned to face Iris fully. The library suddenly felt far too intimatewith just the two of them, and the air was charged with the remnants of whatever conversation he had interrupted.
“Care to explain what that little meeting was about?” he asked, leaning back against the closed door and crossing his arms over his broad chest.
Iris lifted her chin in that defiant way he had come to both admire and find endlessly frustrating. “It is a private matter between a widow and her solicitor. It does not concern you.”
Blaise’s lips curved into a humorless smile. “Everything in this house concerns me now, Little Blossom. Especially when my own solicitor looks like a man who has been caught with his hand in the till. What were you two whispering about? More plans to fill my chambers with flowers? Another clever way to ‘misunderstand’ my orders so you could ride me out of here?”
Blaise fought the images of Iris riding him.
Wrong choice of words.
Iris let out a short, incredulous laugh, though her cheeks reddened with irritation. “You truly believe every conversation in this house is a conspiracy against your enormous ego, do you not? Not everything revolves around wounding the great Duke of Knoxford’s pride.”
He pushed off the door and took a slow step toward her.
“And yet I find you huddled with Earnest behind closed doors the moment my back is turned. Forgive me if I find that suspicious. Especially after the wine incident, the furniture rebellion, and the flower invasion that nearly turned my study into a greenhouse!”
Her eyes narrowed at him. “You barge into rooms uninvited and then accusemeof distrust? How very convenient for the man who took overmyhome without warning!”
Blaise stopped just short of her, close enough to see the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath her gown.
