Page 20 of The Scoundrel and the Lady

“Quite nice, actually.”

Then they both laughed.

“I will make certain to inform Lord Ashby the next time we speak that kissing me will not frighten me away. I am dedicated to this task, and he will not deter me with his would-be seductions.”

Just then her brother passed the parlor door as he walked down the corridor.

Iris jumped up and ran into the corridor. “Jasper!” she called, but he kept walking.

Oh, but he was infuriating when he ignored her that way. Just as he’d done with their mother when they’d been small. Her mother had always seemed so unflappable, though. Yet Iris had not been able to manage in such a way. She wasn’t his mother, and Jasper knew that. Technically, he was the head of the household now, even though Iris was seven years older.

She caught up with him as he climbed the staircase.

“Jasper,” she said, her breath thick from exertion. “I am pleased to see you made it home in one piece after last night.”

His head tilted so he could see her face. “I always make it home safely. You shouldn’t worry so, Iris. Life is intended to be enjoyable.”

“Well, some of it, but certainly not every moment.”

He smirked. “Spoken like a true spinster.” Then, as if he realized what he’d said, his features softened. “You know I’m jesting.”

“Of course.” She forced a laugh, but it was the truth. Regardless, his words stung. She was a spinster. Case in point—she was five and twenty and she’d just had her first kiss and it had frightened her. “Do be careful.” She turned away from him then, unwilling to let him see her cry. She didn’t wish to cry at all, but the blasted tears came anyway. Through clouded vision, she found her way back to the parlor and Harriet’s side.

“Oh, Harriet, tell me that someday Jasper will marry and his wife will take care of him. Tell me that eventually I’ll get to travel and have a life of my own.”

“He will. You know I believe you shall marry, too. You are far too pretty to remain single forever. You merely need to meet the right man.”

Instead of arguing with her friend’s silly fantasy, Iris squeezed her hand. Harriet was ever the optimist. But Iris had decided long ago that she never wanted to fall in love and marry. She’d seen her mother after her father died. Her parents had been a charming couple, the sort that other people wanted to be around. Their love for one another was obvious to everyone who met them. When her father had died suddenly from a fever and cough he couldn’t rid himself of, her mother had dissolved. She’d gone from a vibrant woman who laughed too loud and smothered her children in affection to a ghost of her former self. Her grief had eaten her from the inside out, and one night she’d taken too much laudanum and hadn’t woken up the following morning.

Iris had seen what love could do. She would never hurt like that.

True, she couldn’t spend her life catching pickpockets on the streets, but she could provide advice and instruction to women on how to protect themselves when alone. Someday she’d write it all down in a guide. She had to do something, because the alternative, a purposeless life, was too unthinkable. And she refused to watch all her friends marry, and then die alone with only the memory of one kiss to keep her company.

Chapter Five

Iris wore one of her best day dresses, since she’d just come from a meeting of the Ladies of Virtue. It had been two days since Lord Ashby had kissed her. Two days and she still could feel his lips on hers. Until his note had arrived that morning, she hadn’t heard from him since that day. Initially, she’d thought he’d given up, changed his mind about their wager, about her helping his sister.

Then his note had come, inviting her to his home that afternoon to meet Lucinda. Still, she couldn’t help but pat her hair and straighten her shawl to make certain everything was in place before she knocked at Lord Ashby’s townhome.

Seconds later a young man opened the door. He was strikingly handsome, almost in a pretty sort of way. He was not the butler from the other day.

“Lady Iris, I presume?” he asked. “I am Rand, Merritt’s assistant from the paper, and his oldest friend.”

She nodded. “I believe his lordship is expecting me.”

“Yes, they are waiting for you in the parlor,” he said, his tone less than welcoming. “Follow me.” He closed the front door behind her then led her a short distance down the corridor to a room to their right. She watched his movements closely, trying to memorize them. When it came to her own charade, she could easily mimic his mannerisms. He brought her to a different room than Lord Ashby’s study, and as Iris entered, she could see that it was a tastefully decorated parlor.

Lord Ashby and his sister were standing when Rand announced Iris into the room.

“Thank you, Rand,” Lord Ashby said.

Rand bowed. “My pleasure, my lord. Anything else?”

Lord Ashby shook his head. “You’ve done plenty. I believe this is still a workday, and my paper is not going to run itself. Perhaps you should get back to work.”

Rand withdrew from the room without a good-bye to anyone, merely a sigh.

Lord Ashby’s sister was all smiles as she came forward to meet Iris. “Lady Iris, I have heard so much about you!” the girl said.

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