Only a Lady Will Do by Tamara Gill
Chapter 11
The few sets that Iris had danced earlier in the night were soon forgotten at the delicious expectation of dancing with His Grace. A waltz, no less.
Penworth.
London's most eligible bachelor this Season and in search of a wife. Iris would dance and enjoy being in the man's arms for as long as she could before he belonged to someone else's heart.
He led her out onto the floor. His superfine coat was soft against her palm, and she hoped he could not sense her racing heart. Her body did not feel her own when she was about him. A feeling she could not remember when with Dudley. At no point had the duke made his attentions toward her anything but benign friendship, and so she was at a loss as to why she felt this way. Her reactions were not warranted nor helpful, not if she was going to marry someone else.
When she found the right gentleman for her, that was.
The duke swooped her into the waltz, his hand high on her back. A shiver stole through her at his nearness, his warmth and scent, everything she'd come to appreciate more than was proper.
Iris looked up, wanting to admire his handsome visage, and found him staring at her. His eyes blazed with an emotion she could not interpret. Her breath caught, her heart raced, and there was no place she would rather be than in his arms.
"Have you found anyone who has sparked the interest of your heart?" he asked her, his voice light but serious.
Iris wished she had her wits about her like he still did. Her attention snapped to his lips as they moved. He had lovely lips, full and wide, perfect for kissing. Oh, to dream of being in his arms and the lucky lady he kissed. Something told Iris he would be passionate, caring, and satisfying beyond measure.
Iris schooled her features, forcing herself to stop thinking about the duke in such a way. "There are two gentlemen whom I enjoyed the company of. A Mr. Reeves and Lord Bradley. What are your thoughts on their eligibility?" she asked him. After all, acting as a type of guardian for her, the duke was looking into anyone who made their suit known and letting her know the particulars of their desirability.
Talking of her prospective suiters was a safe conversational subject. For her, at least, she felt nothing but benign friendship toward all of the men she had met so far.
Penworth she had to exclude from the innocuous list.
A muscle flexed in his jaw, and his hand tightened about her waist, pulling her the sparsest closer to him. The breath in her lungs hitched. He was too close for clear thought. His mere presence made her mind befuddled and dizzy, as if she'd imbibed too much wine.
"Bradley is a rake. Not for you." His answer curt and blunt. "Mr. Reeves I will consider further and let you know the outcome of my investigations."
"Thank you," she said, happy to wait for as long as the duke wished. The longer he took in picking out a suitable husband, the longer she would have with him and his mama. If only he would look at her for his prospective bride. Iris was certain she could make him happy and give him children. Her injuries, the doctor had stated, would not stop her from such a future.
"You do not like Bradley. I fear he will be quite disappointed," she said with a touch of pity. "I do believe his suit is in earnest," she teased, hoping her insight into the duke's reaction to the man's name was not wrong.
"I'm sure it is," His Grace spat, shaking his head. "He's after a biddable wife, not a love match. He will not do for you."
She grinned, pleased the duke wanted love for her and not just a suitable match who pleased both families. "He's very handsome. I do find myself quite enraptured by his cheekbones. Marriage to him would not be so very bad."
The duke gaped, and Iris wondered if she'd been a little too forward, even with a man who had no romantic interest in her whatsoever. "I apologize," she added quickly, not wanting him to think her fast. "I do speak plainly with people I consider my friends. I hope you are not disappointed in me, Your Grace."
He spun her near the turn of the room, her chest brushing his silk waistcoat. Heat pooled between her legs. She could not keep reacting to Penworth in this way. It would only lead to heartache, hers in particular.
His dark, troubled gaze met hers. Iris swallowed, the sense that she was getting in over her head with the duke floating through her mind.
"We are friends, and I will guide you as best I can, but the choice of who you will marry will be yours and no one else's. If you want to marry Bradley, while I would warn you against such choice, I would not stop you from making it."
"You do not mind me speaking my mind, Your Grace? My father is forever telling me to stop being so opinionated, at least in the presence of others."
"I'm used to independence and forward-speaking women. I have four sisters, remember?"
She chuckled, looking forward to meeting them all one day. If that day ever happened. Her mama and the duchess were friends, and now that Iris knew the dowager duchess so well, surely they would connect more in the future.
She hoped that was the case.
You would have to see the duke and his new wife if that were to occur.
Iris threw the thought aside. Seeing the duke married would be no issue. Had she started a love affair with him, had he been courting her and then chose another, she may find such a situation hard, but he was not. He was her friend. She would be happy for him and nothing more.
"I want to tell you that Redgrove's mother wishes to have tea with me next week. An invitation arrived this morning."
He watched her as they continued to weave about the floor. "You are nervous about seeing her again? Is that why you are telling me?" he asked her.
She sighed, biting her lip. She was nervous about it. They had not held out the hand of friendship since Dudley's death, and it seemed odd that she would do so now. "I did not think they liked me. I'm confused why Lady Redgrove would request an audience."
Penworth cleared his throat, staring off over her shoulder. "Redgrove was a cheerful fellow, always willing to please." He threw her a quick smile. "I'm sure her ladyship is no different and merely wishes to repair your friendship with her family."
That was certainly true. Dudley was cheerful and forever up for a lark. The race around Hyde Park, unfortunately, his last. "You are right, of course. Lady Redgrove would never chastise me now over an accident that was not my fault." Iris sighed, thinking back to her time in London before the disaster. "I wish I could remember the day, but no matter how much I try, I cannot. Lord Templedon even mentioned that he knew Redgrove and remembered me, but I could not remember him."
The duke frowned and appeared more displeased than she'd ever seen him before. "Templedon should not have brought up a subject that is still so obviously painful for you. It was inconsiderate of him."
"It is no longer painful. Merely sad that Dudley lost his life over something so foolish. I'm sure were he still alive today, he would even state the same."
"I'm sure he would," Josh answered, his mind whirling at what Miss Cooper had said. Templedon used to be part of his set, and he was well aware of what had occurred leading up to Redgrove's death. The bet, that they had all congregated at Hyde Park to see if the baron could beat a previous time set by Josh.
Was he planning on using what he knew about that awful day to make Miss Cooper marry him? He caught sight of the gentleman in question. His smirk smacked into him like a physical blow. Would he demand Josh allow Miss Cooper to marry him to keep his mouth shut over Josh's involvement with the carriage accident? She was not an heiress or titled. What did Templedon want with her?
Same as you do. A wife of poise and grace who would be an asset to any family she married into.
"Be on your guard with Templedon. I'm uncertain whether he is trustworthy, and to be as honest with you as I can, his lordship is rumored to be ruined financially. I do not want to see you saddled with a husband who will leave you destitute. Templedon only came into the title two years past. The late earl was wealthy, and yet, it looks as if the coffers are now empty."
Miss Cooper's tongue darted out to dampen her lip. Josh felt the action right down to his core. He breathed deep, wanting to close the space between them and kiss those ample lips. Thrust his tongue against hers, make her moan his name against his ear at the peak of her release.
His cock stirred, and he separated them a bit, not wanting to see her run off, terrified of his reactions to her presence.
"I will do whatever you suggest, Your Grace. I do not want a union that leaves me disillusioned and alone, penniless as well."
"I would not allow that to happen to you. I'm here to protect and guide you. I shall not let you down." Not again, at least. He had let the woman down in his arms once before, with terrible repercussions for his actions. His attention took in the scar she bore on her face, a small red line that ran from her temple to her forehead—hardly anything, but in turn, everything. The line was a reminder of all he'd done wrong, of what she had endured at his urging and foolishness.
She tipped her head to the side, studying him. "I do think you take too much responsibility on, Your Grace. When it comes to me, at least. I do not deserve such kindness, not from you. It was the dowager duchess who sponsored me, agreed to guide and care for me while I'm in London. I do not want to take up too much of your time, not when you have a Season to attend to as well. I feel as though I am monopolizing your time."
She turned her head and stared to the side of the room. Josh followed her line of sight and caught notice of Lady Sophie watching them, her mouth pulled tight into a displeased line.
"I would prefer you take up my time than any others who look to further their standing by an advantageous match. If my mother is sponsoring you, then you are a woman of morals and good judgment. I do not fear your company."
Her eyes took on a dreamy hue. "How lovely you are."
He let out a bark of laugher, unsure if she meant to be so honest. The rosy hue kissing her cheeks told him she had not meant to be. "Why, thank you, Miss Cooper. So are you." He spun her quickly, wanting to make her at ease. "You have done remarkably well tonight. I hope your leg will not pain you on the morrow."
"Oh, it will." She shrugged as if it were a matter of fact. "But I no longer care. This evening, the opera, the ball, this waltz has been too enjoyable to regret."
Her words warmed his heart and made his blood quicken. He enjoyed her in his arms too. Much more than he thought he would. She was a vicar's daughter. A woman beneath his notice, until now.
Now, he'd seen her. Witnessed how sweet-natured and pure she was, how kind and generous and utterly one of the most handsome women he had ever met in his life.
A woman who sparked to life a fire inside him that he was unsure he could keep within controlled lines. Something told him eventually the fire she stoked would run out of control, and, scariest truth of all, he wouldn't do anything to try to stop it.
