Chapter 19 #2
“Oh, this guest list is positively going to cause a sensation!” Margaret exclaimed, leaning forward over the large oak table in Camelia’s elegantly appointed drawing room. Dozens of creamy invitation cards spread across the polished surface like fallen petals.
“A grand party hosted by the Duke of Knoxford at his estate in London. Every eligible young lady will be positively desperate for an invitation. I can already imagine the carriages lined up for miles!” Pamela said just as ecstatically.
Iris smiled at the younger ladies faintly as she carefully dipped her quill into the inkwell, her hand moving with practiced grace across one of the cards.
It was the fourth week of her arrangement with Blaise, and the upcoming party had become both a welcome distraction and a quiet source of anxiety.
The more she helped him, the closer they got to the end of their month-long bargain.
Pamela bounced lightly in her chair as her and Margaret’s youthful energy filled the room.
“I cannot believe I am helping plan a real duke’s party! Do you think there will be dancing until the early hours of the morning? Perhaps even fireworks over the lake? I read about such magnificent events in one of those scandalous novels Camelia hides under her pillow.”
“I do not!” Camelia gasped and laughed softly, her hand resting protectively over her growing belly as she sorted through a stack of acceptance replies.
“And slow down, dearest. This is not some wild ball from a novel. It is a carefully orchestrated gathering meant to help the duke secure a suitable match for his nephew. We must remain tasteful and strategic.”
Iris glanced at her youngest sister before speaking softly to Camelia, choosing her words with care. “His Grace is more noble than I initially thought.”
Camelia cocked her head and whispered back, “What do you mean?”
“He is going to great lengths for his nephew. And that boy has faced significant challenges, too. His uncle is just determined to secure his future with dignity and care.”
Pamela’s eyes widened with intrigue, though a small frown creased her brow. “Marcus?”
Iris winced as she remembered their encounter, but she kept her tone steady and gentle. “Yes, he is the duke’s nephew, and we are simply helping to find him a kind, respectable young lady to marry.”
Margaret grinned mischievously, nudging Pamela with her elbow. “Perhaps we should make a match between you and him, Pam. You are both full of spirit and fire. It would be vastly entertaining to watch the two of you try to out-stubborn each other.”
Pamela’s cheeks flushed a bright, indignant pink just like the day she crashed into Marcus, and Iris smiled knowingly.
“Margaret!” Pamela yelled. “That is not funny. I am not even out in society yet. Besides, I would never consider someone who seems terribly brooding and difficult, and exactly the sort of man who would ruin a perfectly good party.”
Camelia shook her head with fond exasperation, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Pamela is far too young anyhow for any such considerations. Her debut is only next year, and she will have her pick of suitable gentlemen then. There is no need to rush her into anything.”
The sisters continued working on the invitations for some time, as the room filled with light laughter and the scratch of quills on paper. Margaret and Pamela eventually became engrossed in their own playful argument at the far end of the table, their voices rising in familiar sibling banter.
“You would look absolutely lovely standing beside his nephew,” Margaret teased, waving an invitation card like a fan. “Imagine the scandal sheets! ‘The Firebrand and the Mysterious Heir… A Match Made in Shadows.”
“Stop it this instant!” Pamela protested, swatting at her arm with a rolled-up piece of paper. “I would rather marry a toad than have you teasing me about it for the rest of my life. He is dreadfully arrogant and rude.”
Their bickering faded into a pleasant background hum as Camelia leaned closer to Iris, lowering her voice so only the two of them could hear.
“You seem quite invested in helping him now,” Camelia observed quietly, studying her sister’s face with gentle concern. “Does that mean you have come to trust him, Iris?”
Iris froze, her quill hovering above a half-written card. She set it down carefully, and her fingers traced the edge of the paper as she searched for the right words.
“I… am not entirely sure yet,” she admitted softly.
“Then why are we here, Iris?” Camelia looked at her concernedly.
“I do not know! All I know is that he has been arrogant in my house. He took over without hesitation and could have turned me out onto the street at any moment without caring what became of me. But he has shown surprising patience with all my small acts of defiance. He has not forced me out, even when I made things deliberately difficult for him.”
“Oh, Iris.” Her sister looked at her compassionately.
Iris exhaled loudly before she continued. “And now that I know he is trying so hard to help his nephew secure a stable future… I must admit he is not the worst man on the planet as I first believed him to be.”
Camellia did not reply right away this time. She just looked at Iris with a skeptical, knowing look, one eyebrow slightly raised in that familiar way that always made Iris feel understood.
The silence stretched comfortably between them for a few moments before Iris continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
“He is a complicated man, Camelia. There is darkness in him, shadows he carries from his past, but there is also something honorable underneath it all. I see it when he speaks of Marcus. He carries heavy burdens, yet he refuses to let them crush the boy. It makes me wonder if I have misjudged him more than I realized.”
Camelia reached over and gently squeezed her hand; her touch was warm and reassuring.
“Just be careful, sister. Trust is a dangerous gift to give to a man. Especially when you are living under the same roof.”
“I know.”
“And remember, you have no obligation to him. You can leave anytime you want.”
Iris felt her cheeks warm as she remembered the promise she made to Blaise, but she said nothing more.
The talk with her sister had given her a lot to think about.
As the sun disappeared below the horizon, she wondered how much longer she could keep pretending that her feelings for Blaise were purely strategic.
The invitations kept piling up neatly on the table, each bringing them a small step closer to the end of their month. Iris’s heart felt both strangely full and uncertain.
“Have you chosen the décor yet?” Camelia asked.
“No, I believe the duke will have that sorted out as it will take place at Knoxford House.” Iris did not need the added stress of making more decisions with him or even being in close proximity to him.
“The party will be a success, I am sure of it,” Camelia reassured her as Margaret’s and Pamela’s laughter rang out again.
Their laughter and voices pulled Iris momentarily back into the warmth of her family.
For now, this is enough.