It was so much easier than trying to understand her husband. Evie’s wants were straightforward: food, warmth, comfort. But the Duke’s wants…
She wouldn’t think about his wants. Or the way he’d pressed her against the dining table. Or the sound he’d made when she’d touched his hair.
“Your Grace?” Mary appeared in the doorway. “Lord Halston is here. Shall I tell him you’re not receiving?”
Felix.
Iris felt a rush of relief. “No, I’ll see him. Can you take Evie?”
She found her cousin in the morning room where he paced before the fireplace. He turned when she entered and she could see immediately that his face was creased with concern.
“You look terrible,” he said without preamble.
“How charming. Is that how you greet all ladies?”
“Only the ones I care about.” He crossed to take her hands. “What’s happened? And don’t say nothing. You have that look.”
“What look?”
“The one you used to have after your father’s lectures. Like you’re trying to disappear inside yourself.”
Iris pulled her hands free. “It’s nothing. I’m tired.”
“Iris.”
“I can’t, Felix.” She moved to the window, needing distance. “There’s too much I don’t understand. Too much that doesn’t make sense.”
“About the baby?”
“About everything.” She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. “How well did you know Nicholas?”
Felix was quiet for a moment. “Nicholas? Which Nicholas?”
“That’s just it; I don’t know. Owen let the name slip when he was talking about Evie, but he won’t tell me anything more.” She turned to face him. “He left me for a year, Felix. A full year without a word. Now he returns with a baby and a whispered reference to someone named Nicholas, and I’m supposed to just accept it?”
“What does your instinct tell you?”
“My instinct?” She laughed bitterly. “My instinct is compromised.”
Something in her tone must have caught his attention.
Felix’s eyes sharpened. “What did he do?”
“Nothing. Everything.” She sank onto the sofa, suddenly exhausted. “I barely know him, Felix. How can I trust someone I don’t know?”
Felix sat beside her. His expression was uncharacteristically serious. “Then get to know him.”
“He won’t let me.”
“Won’t he? Or are you both so busy protecting yourselves that you’re talking past each other?”
The observation stung because it held truth. “You’re defending him now?”
“God, no. I still think he’s an arse.” Felix’s usual humor flickered briefly. “But I watched you last year, Iris. You didn’t just survive his absence. You built a life. Made friends. Found your strength. Maybe he sees that, too.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying maybe it’s possible that he’s not the only one with walls.” Felix took her hand gently. “Don’t trust him blindly. But maybe stop assuming the worst?”
