Page 38 of Stolen By the Cruel Duke
Phineas’s first thought, after his wife left, was that he should go to her. Then he stopped himself. She was clearly angry and needed a moment or two to clear her head. Instead, he studied the woman in front of him—the woman who looked so much like his wife that it was almost eerie. An older version of his wife, yes, but still frighteningly similar.
Was this what Iris would look like in twenty years? If so, then he felt very fortunate. Lady Carfield was still very beautiful.
Lady Carfield seemed to be sizing him up as well, and at last, she spoke. “So. You’re the Duke my daughter has married.”
Phineas nodded.
Lady Carfield’s eyes narrowed. “And is it true what they say about you? That you’re one of the most dangerous men in England?”
“I wouldn’t believe the things your husband says about me,” Phineas said coldly.
Lady Carfield waved a hand dismissively. “I haven’t spoken to my husband in more than ten years. Your reputation precedes you, Your Grace, without his help”
“And so what if I am dangerous?” he challenged.
Lady Carfield folded her arms. Her gaze had all the intensity of her daughter’s, and it unnerved him. “I married a dangerous man myself when I was young,” she said. “And I’ve regretted it very much. I want to make sure that my daughter hasn’t made the same mistake I did.”
“If you wanted to keep your daughter safe, then you shouldn’t have abandoned her at the tender age of thirteen,” Phineas pointed out, his tone light even though his words were accusatory.
“I had my reasons,” Lady Carfield said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret my decision every single day.”
Phineas didn’t have time to listen to her tale of regret. He needed to find his wife.
“The butler will show you to your room,” he said stiffly. “I trust you will honor your daughter’s request and leave here first thing in the morning.”
He was at the door when Lady Carfield called after him. “Just don’t hurt her,” she said as he turned back to her. “Give her a better life than either I or her father ever could.”
Phineas stared coolly at his mother-in-law, resentful that she even needed to say this, then left the parlor in search of his wife.
Iris, a maid told him, was in her bedroom. Phineas only realized that the maid meant Iris’s original bedroom and not the one they now shared when he entered his bedchamber and found it empty.
He went to the door connecting their rooms and tried the handle. It was locked.
“Iris?” he called through the door, knocking lightly. “Iris, are you there?”
There was no answer. After waiting a minute, he tried again.
“Iris? It’s me. Can we talk?”
This time, he thought he heard the rustle of skirts from the other side of the door. He knocked again, then again.
“Iris, please open the door,” he called gently. “I’m worried about you.”
“I don’t want to talk,” Iris called back at last. Her voice sounded muffled and choked, and he wondered if she’d been crying. “Just leave me alone.”
“I can’t leave you alone,” he said, pressing his forehead against the door. “You’re my wife, and I won’t let you suffer in there by yourself. Please, let me help you.”
There was a short silence, then he heard her stand up and walk across the room to the door. However, she didn’t open it.
“Is she still here?” she asked through the door, her voice small.
“Yes. I’ve put her in the bedroom farthest from ours. You won’t have to see her again if you don’t want to. And from now on, I’ll tell Mr. Malloy that she isn’t welcome here.”
“Do you think I’m being too harsh?” Iris asked. “Should I listen to her and hear her side of things?”
“I don’t know,” Phineas sighed. “Sometimes it helps to hear someone’s side of things. Other times, what a person did was so unforgivable that it doesn’t matter what they say. And just because she needs to tell you something doesn’t mean you need to hear it.”
“That’s very wise.”
