Page 39 of Stolen By the Cruel Duke
Phineas smiled. “I’m a very wise person.”
He heard her laugh through the door.
“I understand if you need space,” he added quietly. “I’ll stop bothering you. But if you do want me, I’m here for you. I need you to know that.”
Another moment passed, then Phineas heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, and then the door opened. His wife gazed up at him, her eyes puffy and her cheeks stained with tears.
“Will you hold me?” she whispered. “Hold me like you did all those nights ago?”
Phineas didn’t need to ask which night she was talking about—it was the night she had first told him about her mother and they had shared a bed for the first time.
He cupped her chin and stroked his thumb across her jaw. “Of course, I will.”
Iris woke up the next morning wrapped in her husband’s arms. For several moments, she lay still, pretending to be asleep. She felt so warm and safe in his strong arms, and she didn’t want the moment to end. At last, she blinked her eyes open, and she took in the sight of Phineas, fast asleep, the morning sun illuminating him as he held her. He looked so handsome and peaceful that she felt as if her heart was breaking with love.
And with that love flowing through her, she felt a sense of resolve that she hadn’t felt last night. She would listen to her mother’s story, even if just to hear her side of things. It was possible that her father had lied to her about her mother and not given her the full story. After all, she knew now how untrustworthy he was.
Phineas shifted, then opened his eyes. The moment he saw her, he smiled.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
“Good morning.” She wiggled closer to him and kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m going to talk to my mother this morning, before she leaves.”
He looked surprised, and then he nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t think I can do it alone, though,” she said softly. “Would you come with me?”
Phineas raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you learned by now that the answer to that is always yes?”
That is how Iris and Phineas found themselves, twenty minutes later, sitting across from her mother at the breakfast table.
The atmosphere in the room was tense. Lady Carfield was watching them both with a wary expression. She was eating little and said even less. Iris couldn’t eat either. She felt nervous and angry and hopeful all at once, and the feelings drove all other thoughts out of her mind.
“I have decided to allow you to stay a little longer,” Iris began. “And, after much consideration, to hear your side of the story.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” her mother said. She looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept all night. “There is so much I want to tell you.”
She took a deep breath, as if stealing herself, and then began to speak.
“I always knew I’d married a hard man,” she began. “Back when I married your father, young ladies had even less choice in whom to marry than they do now. And I was young and naive. Your father was rich and handsome, and my father convinced me it would be a good marriage. I believed him. It didn’t take long for me to realize how wrong he was.
“The first years were difficult. Your father was cruel and vindictive. But then I gave birth to you, and you gave me something to live for. I doted on you, loved you unconditionally. And although my marriage left much to be desired, I was happy as your mother. Then Violet and Rosalie came, and my life felt full. Your father, of course, wanted a son, but I was content with daughters. What if a son turned out like him? The thought chilled me to the bone.
“I always knew your father was involved in shady business dealings, but I was never involved in any of them until shortly after the death of his friends, the Duke and Duchess of Eavestone. I’d met them many times and had never understood how such good people could be friends with him. I assumed he had never shown them his true colors.
“Anyway, after their deaths, he asked me to be a witness to the signing of a land purchase deal. I was surprised to be asked and even more surprised when I discovered I wouldn’t be witnessing the new Duke’s signature. My husband told me that you, Your Grace, had already signed it. When I questioned this—wasn’t the point of a witness to witness both signatures?—he called me an ignorant, stupid woman. His bullying was relentless, and, eventually, I signed the document.
“But I knew something was wrong, and after that, I began sneaking into his study to investigate his business dealings. That’s when I learned how corrupt he truly was. The things he had done… they frightened me deeply, and I knew I couldn’t stay with him. He was a bad man, and I couldn’t allow my children to be brought up by him.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she wiped them away and continued her story.
“But when I tried to leave him, he forbid me from taking you and your sisters with me, Iris. He threatened me, told me that if I left with you, he’d marry you and your sisters off—when the time came—to the worst men of the tonas punishment. I was scared, alone, and unsure of my power. So I capitulated. He let me leave,but without you, and he told me I was never allowed to contact any of you again.
“All these years, I have been trying to find a way to contact you, but he has blocked me at every turn. I wrote letters, but he destroyed them. I tried to meet you in public places, but he sent protection officers to threaten me. The only contact I had was through your governess. Do you remember her?”
Iris nodded. She was petrified by this story, barely able to move or think.
“She was a lovely woman and hated your father. She would give me updates on all of you, assure me you were safe. That’s how I knew you had married, Iris. And then, of course, I read it in the papers.”
