Only a Lady Will Do by Tamara Gill

Chapter 31

The second masquerade ball was a crush. The room swam with color, with gowns of gold and greens, silks and tulle. Masks covered most attendee's faces. The laughter and chatter were deafening. Iris moved through the room with her mama and grandmother, who also sported dominoes and matching masks.

The two women had grown close within the week they had spent together, and Iris knew no matter what happened with her and the duke, her mother and grandmother would spend a lot more time together in the coming years. The rift in the family finally healed.

The orchestra in Lord and Lady Robinson's home was situated on an upstairs mezzanine floor, overlooking the ballroom itself. Iris stood across from it near the bank of windows that overlooked the grounds of the London townhouse. The gardens beyond were illuminated with torches, people too outside on the terrace and lawns enjoying the night of revelry.

A footman came up to them and forgoing the ratafia, Iris picked up a glass of wine, feeling the need for fortification to do what she must this evening.

After Lady Arndel had left, she had spent the day thinking about her life. What she wanted and longed for most. What she was able to forgive and forget, and she knew that she could forgive Josh.

But only if he were truly in love with her and she was not some charity old maid he felt sorry for.

If he declared himself with that truth, then she too would believe him at his word. She would trust that he stated the truth and believe in his love.

Iris laughed as her father joined them, and scooped her mama out on the dance floor, her mother's squeal of delight bringing a smile to her grandmother's face.

"Oh, how I shall miss you all when you leave. I think it is time that I visited Cornwall and see where my granddaughter grew up." The countess cupped Iris's cheeks in her hands. "I should have forgiven your mama her choice and let go of the pain and disappointment her marriage brought against me a long time ago, Iris dear. I'm sorry I hurt you all," the countess said before she too was pulled away in conversation by other acquaintances.

Forgiveness.

There was that word again. Mumbled to her for what felt like the hundredth time in under a day. Was it a sign from the heavens that she too ought to let go, step forward into a new life, a new time and forget the past?

The orchestra's tune faded out, and Iris looked up to see why they would stop playing in the middle of a waltz and gaped at the sight of Josh. He was unmasked and without a domino—no hiding himself from the ton below.

She cast a glance about the room. Everyone's attention was riveted on him and what he was doing up there. This was one of the most sought-after balls in the Season, the last masquerade held this year. Everyone who was anyone in town was present.

An eager whisper, questions murmured through the crowd, before Josh, who was studying everyone beneath him, locked eyes with her.

Oh, dear.

Iris's stomach fluttered at the sight of him, handsome and broad-shouldered. A powerful duke demanding an audience.

But why? What would he say to them all?

When the duke had the room's full attention, no hairpin dared drop to the parquetry floor. Only then did he start to speak.

His deep, rich baritone wrapped about her like a soothing balm. How she had missed his voice. His presence. His everything.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I have come here this evening, for one reason and one reason only. And, fortunate for those of you present here this evening, you are about to find out why."

Again, whispers ran the length of the room, but Iris could not look away. She felt a hand slip around hers and welcomed the comfort of her grandmother at her side.

"This Season, you have been aware that my mother, the Dowager Duchess Penworth sponsored Miss Iris Cooper. Her first Season was cut short due to an accident, and I'm here today to pay penance for my involvement on that terrible day and to seek forgiveness. I also stand before you because there are truths that need acknowledging without another day passing."

Iris heard the blood pumping in her ears, and for a moment, she wondered if she would faint. She steeled herself to listen, to hear him out his every word.

The duke seemed to rally before he continued. "I made a bet many years ago that, unfortunately, Baronet Redgrove chose to take upon himself. Many of you know the outcome of that day and the resulting end to Miss Cooper's first Season due to her sustained injuries. It was never my intention for either Redgrove to be injured or Iris, but they were and my lack of consideration of them during that time is my burden to bear and burden to seek forgiveness for, if ever possible."

The guests did not speak, but the looks they passed between them told Iris some did not know his involvement. That some of the ladies present cast her knowing looks of glee did not pass her by either.

He went on. "What you are unaware of is that upon meeting Miss Cooper, plagued with guilt and the need to make her Season here this year one to remember, I somehow stumbled headlong in love with her. With every breath of my body, I wanted her. She was everything I did not want, or so I thought, and yet everything my soul craved. I could not sleep or eat without thinking of her." His eyes held hers, and Iris felt moisture pool in hers. Could he be saying all these things and before the entire London elite?

Surely he was not?

"I had to have her as my wife," he declared. "And so I took liberties that were not mine to take. I kissed her. That my mother came upon us was perfect for me, for honor demanded I ask her to be mine, and she agreed. While the last of my declaration sounds like I had no other choice, of course, I did. I did not have to offer anything. I could have spoken to the duchess and persuaded her to give over. But I did not want to."

The knowing looks changed to ones of envy, and Iris felt hope bloom within her soul. Like a warm ray of sunshine lit her body to life and renewed her spirit.

"I never asked you to marry me, Iris, because I felt sorry for you," he said, finding her in the crowd and holding her gaze. "Nor did I ask out of pity for your situation or my guilt over your circumstances. I merely used them at first to get close to you. I soon fell in love with your laughter, kindness, sweet, gentle soul that only ever wants the best for others. I want you as my duchess. No other lady will do." He shrugged, and she bit her lip, swallowing hard. She was on the verge of tears and before everyone who was anyone, but she did not care. No one else mattered but the duke—the man she loved.

She heard her grandmother sigh with pleasure before dabbing at her own damp cheeks at the duke's words.

Iris let go of her grandmother's hand and found the small flight of stairs leading up to Josh. Her steps slowed as she came toward him, the riveted visages of the orchestra musicians watching their every move.

"I assume by what you are saying, Your Grace, that you are sorry."

His shoulders sagged in relief, and he pulled her against him, tipping her face up for a kiss. The wanting of the man in her arms left her breathless, even with the ton looking on in awe. The scandalous gasps from the matrons of the ton, the shouts from men faded as the kiss continued.

Iris kissed him with everything she could, all the pent-up emotions she had fought this past week. The terror that she would remain heartbroken for the rest of her days living her life out in Cornwall a mean, old spinster. A woman haunted by the fear she had been played the fool by the man she loved.

"Marry me, Iris. You are my heart and soul. Forgive me and marry me, please." His voice soothed any remaining anxieties, and she nodded, knowing this was what she wanted. What she had always wanted from the very first moment her eyes had taken in the duke. There was only ever the duke.

"I will marry you, my heart."

Josh wrenched her against him again, their kiss, devastatingly slow, a dance of seduction and promise of what was to come in life, what she had to look forward to, days and nights of endless love and adoration. The kiss went on and on. Iris felt the familiar need to be with Josh alone thrum through her veins, and she reveled in it. She disregarded the ton watching them and kissed her husband to be. Soon she would be his, and he would be hers, and there was nothing that anyone or anything could do to change that fact.

"May I escort you home?" he asked her, a question in his stormy blue orbs that she understood.

"Take me back to your mother’s home, Your Grace. I would prefer that."

A wicked grin lifted on his lips, and he started for the stairs. Iris having to run a little to keep up with him. She laughed, knowing they would be the scandal of the Season and the most talked of for many months to come. But she did not mind, for she had her husband to be, and the ton, for all she cared, could go hang their gossiping tongues. She was to be a duchess. There would be no pitying glances now. Nor ever again.