Chapter 10
“Ican do it myself,” Iris was muttering to herself as she frowned down at the small pile of wildflowers in her lap, which she was attempting to weave into a flower crown to match the one Letitia had made for her. “I can do it.”
Though Letty approved of the girl’s confidence, she had to admit that she didn’t think it would pan out.
Each time Iris wrapped a flower, the previous one fell back into her lap.
Her determination didn’t waver for a long while, but eventually she scooped all the flowers into her hands and tossed them, so they rained down over her head, landing here and there in her dark hair.
“Pretty,” Iris said, shaking her head so the flowers fell out.
Letitia laughed and hesitated, but this was as good a time as any…
“Do you know what else is very pretty?”
Iris looked up from twirling a flower between her palms. “What?”
Letty pointed at her own neck. “Your medallion. Where did you get that? I have never seen anything like it.”
She worried that this would make Iris clam up, that it would undo all the work they had done together. But the little girl didn’t even hesitate as she pulled the chain out from beneath her gown, and Iris’ openness made Letitia’s heart ache.
Whatever the little girl had gone through, she’d found herself alone at a tender age, suddenly thrust into an entirely new life full of strangers. And yet, she still trusted Letty. She still smiled when there were flowers in her hair.
“Oh, my special necklace?” Iris asked. “It was Mama’s.”
Letitia fought not to react.
“Oh, yes?” Letitia picked up some flowers and began weaving another crown. Children, she had learned, tended to answer questions more openly if you pretended you didn’t care about their answers. “And where is your mama now?”
When Iris fell quiet, Letty chanced a glance at her. She was toying with the medallion, her lip jutting out like she was holding back her sadness.
“She fell asleep,” Iris said eventually, her voice as small as Iris had ever heard it. “She didn’t wake up.”
Letitia moved closer to the child and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Iris let her weight rest against Letty in a way only children could, almost going boneless as she relaxed into the embrace.
“I am sorry, my darling,” Letitia murmured into the child’s hair. No doubt it made her feel horrible, no doubt it would take a hundred hours of prayer to atone for it, but she pressed for more information. “And your mama, she gave you that necklace before she passed? Did she tell you why?”
“Yes,” Iris said. “It’s from her family. She was a Lighthomer. I think it means she came from the stars. That’s probably where she went now.”
Letty had to close her eyes for a moment at the simple, dreamy way that this little girl imagined her dead mother.
“Do you think she might have said Lightholder?” she ventured carefully.
Iris leaned out of the embrace to look up at her, a surprised smile on her face. “Oh, yes! That’s it. It sounds really fancy. Pretty, like my mama.”
“And like you,” Letitia said, both because it was true and because she could not do much more without her heart completely shattering.
“And you, Miss Knightley!” Iris said, her natural good humor coming back to the surface. She really did have the most agreeable temperament.
“Ah, but you are the one with the pretty flower crown,” Letitia said. “Would you like to help me pick more flowers so that I can match you?”
“Yes!”
For the next fifteen minutes, that was what they did.
When they finished, both of them had crowns, and Iris also had a necklace and bracelets.
The clouds above started to look a bit ominous, so they gathered their floral accouterments and walked the short distance from the park back to the Duke of Rutley’s house.
Letitia maintained a friendly, casual conversation as she and Iris walked hand in hand, but inside, her mind reeled with the information she had learned.
Could it be true? Could Iris really be a member of the Lightholder family? What would that mean for her, for the family as a whole?
She would have to tell the duke, of course. But if Iris was truly a Lightholder, that meant that she had family far beyond the Duke of Rutley. She had cousins—cousins galore, honestly. She would have other children around her. Aunts, uncles. She would have everything a girl could want.
It would mean that the duke could not keep her a secret, the way he had been, and Letty didn’t know how he would react to that revelation.
Her mind was still churning over this newest development when they made it back to the house. No sooner had they gone in the front door and had their jackets taken by the footman on duty than the duke himself appeared, carrying a large box.
Iris let out a shy little squeak and tried to hide behind Letty’s legs. Letitia looked up at the duke with an apology in her eyes. He’d tried to hide it, but it was obvious that it hurt him—the way Iris talked to everyone else but behaved as if he were some kind of terrifying monster.
But the duke didn’t look upset. He looked… delighted.
For a moment, Letitia was confused.
Then, the box barked.
Iris leaned out from her hiding place immediately, her eyes going wide.
“Good afternoon, Iris,” the duke said, his excitement practically pouring off of him. “Do you think you might help me with this box?”
There was a rustle inside the box, then another yip.
Iris tugged at Letitia’s hand hard enough that she was liable to yank the thing right off.
“I think there’s a puppy in there,” she whispered to Letitia.
“Why don’t you go see?” Letty whispered back.
The duke knelt on the ground, not minding his fine clothes a bit. He put the box on the ground, and it skittered a few inches on its own. Iris, already reaching for it, jerked back with a happy little shriek.
“Would you like me to open it?” the duke asked carefully, a twinkling smile suggesting that he knew the answer already.
Iris shook her head rapidly and reached out with a careful, slow movement.
The instant she lifted the lid off the box, a tiny head poked out, all big, dark eyes and fluffy golden ears. The dog’s tongue was hanging out of its mouth, and it panted as it looked around happily.
Iris’ eyes were so big, they looked like they might fall right out of her head.
In the next moment, the puppy clumsily leaped out of the box. It was small, gold, and white, with short fur. Its paws were oversized for its body, but not large enough to indicate it would grow into a big dog.
“She’s a spaniel,” the duke said, still on the ground, eyes darting between Iris and the dog. “Her mama’s line has been living with a family I know for years. Iris, do you think that we should keep this one to live with us?”
Iris nodded hurriedly, her eyes fixed on the dog, who was now sniffing the marble floor as if it were the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.
“Would you like to show me how to greet her?” the duke asked. “Dogs like to get to you know, in a way that’s a little bit different from people.”
Iris gave him a blinding smile and another nod.
Letitia fought the urge to press her hands to her chest as the duke put out his palm, face up, and Iris, barely hesitating, laid her hand atop his. Slowly, gently, the duke led their joined hands toward the puppy’s nose. The dog gave up sniffing the floor and turned to this new, fascinating thing.
A moment later, the dog licked Iris’ hand, causing her to shriek with laughter. Only this time, she didn’t turn to share her joy with Letty. She turned to the duke, who looked like he scarcely dared to hope.
“Thank you,” she said. “She’s so fluffy.”
Letitia could swear that she watched the duke’s heart break open. It was a joy to see.
“You are very welcome, Iris,” he said, looking down to where her hand still rested atop his. “Very welcome, indeed.”
* * *
Ezra was buzzing with excitement.
It was absurd, really. He didn’t know why he should be quite this utterly pleased that Iris had deigned to talk to him. She was, after all, just one little girl.
But he was. He had been buzzing for the past few hours, ever since Iris and Miss Knightley took the new puppy up to the nursery to begin acclimating the dog to the house, and vice versa.
He was sufficiently delighted that, when a knock at the study door revealed Miss Knightley, he didn’t even pause to think before he swept her up in his arms and spun her in a joyous circle.
She let out a startled bark of laughter, pressing her hands to his chest as he lifted her off the ground.
Deep dimples carved themselves into her cheeks as she grinned, and he could see each pop of color in the freckles that speckled her nose.
Then, he remembered himself. He forced his arms to release her.
“Sorry, I—”
She held up a hand, cutting him off, which really was not precisely the recommended way to respond to a duke, but Ezra was relieved anyway.
“I take it you were pleased with Iris’ reaction to the puppy?” she asked, still laughing.
“Beyond pleased,” he admitted, dropping into a chair and casually waving at the chair across from him, which she took. This pleased him, too. He had not given her any real reason to feel so comfortable with him, to treat him like any other man.
But she did. Miss Letitia Knightley, with her generous heart.
“You cannot possibly be as pleased as Iris,” she said, smiling broadly.
“She has named the dog Hermes, by the way. She was entirely unbothered by my observation that this was, traditionally speaking, a male name. She insisted, and she has already told me that Hermes is her dearest friend and that they are going to do everything together, and that they will learn tricks to show you.”
“To show me?” Somehow, the idea made the world seem even brighter.
“Indeed.” Miss Knightley looked genuinely pleased for him. But then, a flicker of something less certain crossed her face. “Although Iris did say something today that I thought you ought to know.”