Chapter 17 #2
Unlike his uncle, he was sweeter and did not demean people with dry humor. Iris led him to the drawing room, and her mind was racing.
Marcus entered the drawing room and looked around with a distasteful look. “Did my uncle design this?”
Iris felt a sense of victory. “Yes, he did.”
She looked around, equally disgusted.
Marcus scoffed. “He has terrible taste for decorations.”
Thank you! My thoughts exactly!
Iris could not stop the smile that pulled at the corners of her lips.
“Lord Vale—”
“Please call me Marcus.”
Iris smiled knowingly at the young man. “If you can excuse me for a few minutes, I have my sister in the study, and I just want to inform her that I have a guest.”
Marcus held up his hands. “Oh, I do not want to be a bother and keep you from your family—”
“It is not a bother at all. Please make yourself at home, and we will get you some tea and something to eat as well.”
Iris gave Mrs. Henkings a nod, and the woman scurried off with a line of blushing maids behind her. Marcus smiled at Iris and then sat down on the new chaise.
“All right then, thank you,” he said quietly.
Iris rushed out of the drawing room and simply popped her head back into the study, where Camelia waited.
“Iris! What is taking you so long?” Camelia hissed.
“I will make it up to you later. An unexpected guest has arrived!” Iris replied from the entrance.
Camelia looked thoroughly confused before Iris shut the door on her. “Who is it? Is Pamela here already?”
“I will explain everything later,” Iris promised through the door.
She returned at a rush to the drawing room and instructed the maids where to place the tea and refreshments. Once they were settled, Iris studied the young man before her with genuine curiosity.
“How is it staying with my uncle? I imagine it cannot be easy. Especially for a lady.” Marcus sipped his tea and ate while he waited for her response.
Iris wanted to laugh, but she held it in.
He knows exactly what it is like.
“It is, surprisingly, not so bad. Why? How was it, growing up with him?” she asked gently. “He speaks of you with such care.”
Marcus shrugged, though his expression softened.
“He treated me more like a father than my actual one ever did. Even when I was difficult… Especially when I was difficult.”
Iris listened carefully and nodded. “I can tell how much he cares. He is restoring this house specifically for you to live in once you finish at Oxford. He is even looking for a suitable bride so you can settle properly in London.”
Marcus’s face shifted to clear annoyance. “A bride? He is arranging my entire life without even asking me?” He set his teacup down harder than necessary, and the porcelain rattled against the saucer. “After Oxford, I want to follow my own path. As far from aristocracy and titles as possible.”
Iris watched the young man carefully, noting the same stubborn set of his jaw that she had seen in his uncle.
It seemed the Vale men all possessed the same fierce independence.
“Have you told your uncle about these plans?” she asked gently.
Marcus shook his head. “No, I have not.”
“Maybe you should,” Iris suggested, her voice soft but steady. “If it means so much to you, he deserves to hear it from you directly.”
Iris guiltily thought she could benefit from this, too.
If Marcus refused the match and resisted his uncle’s plans, perhaps Blaise would lose interest in turning Hentley House into a proper ducal residence for his nephew.
Perhaps she could keep her home after all.
But after seeing Marcus, she felt a pang of guilt for even considering using him that way.
Marcus exhaled slowly, drawing her back to reality. “I will talk to him. Thank you, Lady Hentley. I appreciate your hospitality, especially since this house was taken from you.” His voice softened with genuine regret. “I am sorry for it.”
Tears threatened to spill from Iris’s eyes, but she controlled her emotions with practiced ease.
“It is not your fault. Nor anyone’s, really. This is simply the way the world works.”
Marcus’s jaw ticked visibly. “This is why I hate society, the ton, and the insipid, man-made hierarchies that trap everyone in their places. But perhaps my uncle will listen. Perhaps he will allow me to live out my dream… and you will not lose your house.”
He stood abruptly, clearly agitated. Iris rose, as well as a sense of dread, washed over her.
“You must not trouble yourself with the house or my situation. Just talk to your uncle and settle things calmly between you.”
Marcus offered her a grateful nod, though frustration still simmered beneath the surface.
“I am grateful I met you, Lady Hentley. Thank you for the tea.” He paused at the door, adding bitterly, “But my uncle should not be planning my entire life out without a word to me.” With that, he rushed out of the drawing room.
What have I done?
Iris hurried after him, her heart heavy with guilt. She blamed herself for his strong reaction. She had assumed he was aware of all the plans Blaise had for him.
“Marcus, wait—” she called out, but he was already striding toward the entrance hall.
As Marcus reached the doorway, Pamela rushed in from the opposite direction, arms full of books and sketches, clearly coming from one of her tutors.
Iris gasped as she collided with Marcus, who instinctively caught her by the arms to steady her.
However, her books and parchment went into the air and fell around them.
Pamela blushed deeply, looking up at the tall young man.
“Oh! Thank you, my lord,” she said politely and curtsied as best she could while still in his grasp.
Already irritated and distracted, Marcus released her rather abruptly. “I am not a lord, and next time, watch where you are going,” he muttered rudely before brushing past her and storming out the front door without another word.
Pamela stood frozen, her cheeks flaming with humiliation.
“I am so sorry,” Iris said quickly, hurrying forward. “He is going through a difficult time. Please forgive his manners.”
Pamela’s eyes flashed with offense. “Difficult time or not, that was inexcusably rude. Who does he think he is?”
Iris placed a comforting hand on her niece’s shoulder, but her mind was elsewhere. As she watched Marcus disappear, a quiet doubt began to creep in about Blaise. He was so determined to arrange Marcus’s future without consultation, so forceful in claiming what he believed was his.
Is Blaise truly a good man, or is he simply another aristocrat who sees people as pieces to be moved on a board for his own purposes?
The thought unsettled her deeply. For the first time, Iris began to question whether the man who had awakened such intense desire in her was someone she could truly trust with her heart or even her future.