Chapter 18 #2
Blaise recognized the line of questioning immediately. It circled back to the same accusation his cousin Alistair had made against him: that he was playing God and forcing solutions where they were not wanted. He exhaled slowly.
“I suppose I have no problem answering honestly when asked directly,” he said, a faint smirk touching his lips. “Much like the night you called me a murderer to my face.”
Iris blushed deeply at the memory, the color rising beautifully on her cheeks, and Blaise allowed himself a moment to savor it before continuing.
“A greedy cousin of mine, named Daniel, has set his sights on the title. He has filed a formal claim alleging that Marcus is illegitimate. The matter will become public in about three weeks, and I want to secure a strong bride for Marcus before the scandal breaks. A respectable match will give him leverage and silence some of the whispers.” Blaise felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders after he confessed everything to Iris.
“But would it not all be well for you and your nephew as the title cannot be taken away from you?” Iris asked simply.
Blaise’s mind drifted back to Surrey and his horses.
“That is true, but I did not and do not want the title. It was wrongly given to me when it belongs to Marcus. I have a business to run and would much rather concentrate on that. But in order to save my nephew from my cousin, I had to take over, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. That is, if Daniel does not have an even more sinister plan for me.”
Her eyes widened. “You are not suggesting that he would go as far as…murdering you?”
“I would not be surprised.”
Iris gasped. “But you are his family.”
He scoffed at the word.
“Marcus is my only family…” The confession filled him with a deeply rooted sadness he had not realized was there. “That is why I have to find him a bride and somehow convince him he is worthy of this title.”
“Neither a bride nor a scandal can truly change Marcus’s situation. I mean… from what I know, he is illegitimate after all. Unless—”
Blaise held her gaze steadily. The truth had been buried long enough.
“Marcus is the legitimate heir,” he said quietly. The words fell heavily in the space between them. “My brother, Benjamin, and his lover, Diana, were properly married. The proof exists; I know it does, but Daniel’s claim will still cause damage if it reaches the papers before we are prepared.”
Iris stared at him, clearly processing the revelation. She fell into a stunned and thoughtful silence as Blaise watched her.
“He is the true Duke of Knoxford, then?” she asked shakily.
“Yes,” he admitted.
* * *
“Do you have proof of his legitimacy?” Iris stared at Blaise, her mind struggling to grasp the weight of what he had just revealed.
“Not yet, but my brother would not have lied to me.”
Iris blinked slowly, still trying to make sense of it all. “Does that not mean that Marcus will inherit Knoxford instead?”
Blaise’s dark eyes held hers steadily. “Yes, he inherits everything. Including Hentley House. But he does not want Knoxford nor the title.” Blaise’s scar twitched under the dim lighting.
“Because it makes him feel alone.” It was not a question; Iris spoke from her own experience, and she could relate deeply to Marcus’s feelings of not belonging.
She looked at Blaise and blushed; he was already staring at her.
“I only meant—”
“That is enough, Iris.”
She could see the worry etched in his features for his nephew, and she wondered if she was just a useless pawn in their game, which they had to get rid of.
“And you plan to make him the duke? To give up the title and step aside for your nephew, who wants nothing to do with it, while having no proof that he is legitimate except for the fact that your brother claimed so.” The words spilled out of her before she could stop herself.
She was done playing along. She deserved to know the full truth before getting thrown out of her house.
“Yes,” Blaise answered, frustratingly straightforward and without any further explanation.
Iris could hardly grasp any of it. He would gladly give up a dukedom with all its power, wealth, and status for a possibly illegitimate boy he claimed responsibility for. The very idea felt strange, nearly impossible in the world she knew, where titles were held onto with desperate greed.
“I… I don’t understand,” she whispered, still processing everything. “Most men would fight tooth and nail to keep such power. Yet you plan to hand it over without proof. Why?”
Blaise remained silent for a moment, his scarred face unreadable.
“Because it is the right thing to do,” he eventually answered.
Iris softened toward him.
“You are doing it for your brother.” She understood his reasoning then. She would do the same for Pamela and Camelia.
Blaise did not respond, and he did not have to because Iris could see from his expression that she was right.
“Can you tell me more about Marcus’s father?” Iris asked gently. “What was he like?”
“He was filled with love and then filled with sadness.” Blaise looked into her eyes, and Iris could not read him.
“What happened between him and his wife?” she pressed. “The elopement must have caused such pain in your family.”
His jaw tightened.
“Some things are mine to carry alone, Iris. I will not speak of it.”
“But surely—”
“No,” he cut in quietly but firmly. “I have said enough on that matter.”
Iris nodded, respecting the boundary even as curiosity burned inside her.
She sat back and reflected on how the pieces of Blaise’s past were gradually forming a picture far more complicated than she had expected.
He was a man who carried heavy guilt and was willing to give up everything for his family.
The realization softened her heart toward him, and that frightened her more than anything else.
She took a steadying breath.
“I will help you,” she said, her voice slowly gaining strength.
Blaise chuckled darkly. “Are you not going to ask what is in it for you if you truly help?”
“I do not care; I simply want to help you.” She lifted her chin, and Blaise’s eyes traveled along her jawline to her neck.
Iris gulped.
“What do you suggest, Little Blossom?” The endearing name never failed to send a shiver down her spine.
“I suggest that you host another party at Knoxford, and I will ensure every eligible young woman of good character and suitable age attends. My sister and I know the ton well enough to curate the guest list, and I am certain that we will find someone worthy of Marcus.”
Blaise looked at her curiously, one dark brow lifting. The intensity of his gaze made her pulse quicken.
“And what about Lady Pamela?” he asked.
“Her debut is next year, and you do not have time.”
After a long silence, Blaise leaned on the desk and lowered his voice.
“I know you never truly meant to fulfill your side of the deal, Iris. You only wanted to buy time to keep your house and to delay the inevitable. We have one week left, and I cannot help but wonder how long you would keep up this act.”
Iris’s cheeks burned. She opened her mouth to protest. “That is not true...”
But she faltered under his knowing stare. No excuse sounded convincing, even to her own ears. Blaise saw straight through her, as he always seemed to.
Suddenly, he leaned back and gestured for her. “Come here.”
Iris glared at him, but eventually she pushed aside her doubts, got up, and obeyed him. She moved until she stood directly in front of him and close enough to feel the heat radiating from his taut body. Blaise did not get up, and Iris felt powerful as she towered over him.
He looked at her from head to toe, then whispered, “Have you touched yourself again since that night in the dining room?”
The question sent a rush of heat through Iris. She had tried her best to keep that intimate moment out of her mind ever since he left, but she failed miserably.
She shook her head. “No, I did not. That is absurd, and it will never happen again!”
Blaise chuckled as if he did not believe her. The heat of his breath landed on her arms and left goosebumps there.
“Why not?” he asked as he looked into her eyes.
Iris swallowed hard, her heart hammering. The truth slipped out before she could stop it. “Because… I would rather you do it.”
The admission hung between them, raw and honest. Blaise’s eyes darkened with unmistakable hunger.
He studied her for a long moment, then asked roughly, “Are you ready to be drawn properly this time?”
Iris met his gaze, and her breathing shallowed.
“Yes,” she whispered.