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His name on her lips was sweet, and he smiled.
“We will. For now, go through to your room and call for your maid to help you prepare for bed. I will call for my valet, and when you return, I will already be abed.”
She gave a nod, and turned to do his bidding. He did not move until the connecting door had closed behind her.
>>>
Iris stepped back into Leon’s room, her mouth suddenly dry, and a shiver of tension bringing an ache to her bones. True to his word, he lay in the bed, attired, from what she could see, in a simple linen nightshirt. Her thoughts went to the bare skin which lay beneath that fabric, and she wondered what it would feel like to touch him, to touch the parts of a man that were normally hidden from the world by clothes.
She pushed that thought away. She would not be discovering the answer to that question tonight. Tonight, all she was going to do was sleep – for, in truth, she was exhausted, as the stress of the last few days caught up with her.
He met her eyes, and she walked across to the bed, never breaking that connection. What was he thinking? His eyes held warmth, and yet they also held… doubt?
When she reached the bedside, he folded the covers back, inviting her in. She shed her wrap, dropping it on the nearby chair, and stood for a moment, aware of her own bare skin, covered only by the fine linen of her night rail. She felt exposed, vulnerable – but not threatened.
She slipped into the bed, and pulled the covers up.
He reached out, and took her hand, lifting it gently to his lips, and pressed a kiss to the bare skin of her wrist, where the pounding of her heart was made obvious by the pulse in her veins. Then he moved their still twined hands down under the covers.
“Sleep now. Tomorrow, we can begin to find our way as husband and wife, but tonight, just know that I take pleasure in the comfort of your presence.”
“Thank you. Good night… Leon.”
It was only the second time that she had spoken his name, since the marriage ceremony – she was sure that she would get used to it… in time.
Chapter Seven
Leon stared out of the window as the carriage traversed the familiar roads. Beside him, Iris also watched the London streets give way to countryside, with far more curiosity than he had felt for years. It made him look at it anew, and he had to admit that now, as March moved towards April, it was beautiful. For years, he had regarded the passing scenery only as markers of how close he was coming to renewed pain and sadness – now, the unaffected appreciation of the early spring scenes demonstrated by his wife almost gave him hope for something different.
That was, of course, likely foolish of him. It was not possible that Maggie would have improved. Each time he had seen her over the last six months, she had been worse. There were better days, as well as worse days, but the overall trend led inexorably to her permanent decline. And once Iris saw Maggie… he would not be surprised if she refused to live in the same house. He still had not told his wife about his sister – he had tried, but had not been able to bring himself to ruin the quiet peace of the last few days. In truth, he had lacked the words to explain.
But now, in a few short miles more, the truth would be revealed. His mother would already be there, for she had come back to Greenleigh House only long enough to gather her things before leaving for Greenleigh Park yesterday – and perhaps she would have been able to prepare Maggie for what was to come.
He turned away from the window, filled with a sudden resolve. He had to tell her now – they would be able to see the House from the top of the next rise, he had left it, utterly, to the last possible minute.
“Iris…”
She shifted on the seat, and met his eyes, hers full of concern at his sudden manner.
“Yes?”
“There is something which I have not told you.”
Her brow furrowed.
“Something…?”
“Yes. I... I did not know how to tell you. And I apologise, now, for that fact, and for what you are about to face.”
At that, a shadow of fear slid across her eyes, and he hated himself, hated the cowardice which had led him to seek his own comfort for the last few days, to pretend, for that short time, that Maggie did not exist, and that he might have a normal marriage. But there was nothing for it. He must tell Iris, and if she turned away from him, so be it.
He wanted her to stay, wanted desperately to have a true marriage with her, this woman that he had, somehow, come to love in a few short days – for that was what had happened, to his own surprise.
“Iris… I have a sister.”
She frowned again.
“But… you say that as if it is a bad thing? And… I have never seen her about in society – is she very young?”
