CHAPTER 3
“Are you going to keep staring at me, or shall we discuss this in private?” The words came out steadier than Iris felt.
The Duke stood frozen in the doorway with his gray eyes fixed on the bundle in her arms. For a man who prided himself on control, he looked remarkably shaken.
Good.Let him feel a fraction of what I’ve endured.
“Peters,” he said without looking at his butler, “leave us.”
“Your Grace.” The older man bowed and retreated. He closed the door with a soft click.
They were alone for the first time since their wedding night when he’d deposited her at Carridan Hall like unwanted luggage. The memory burned hot as ever.
Evie squirmed in her arms, threatening to cry. Iris bounced her gently using a motion that had become second nature over the past two days. She watched the Duke track the movement and saw the calculation in his eyes as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
“Explain,” he said finally.
“Explain?” Iris laughed bitterly. “That’s rich, coming from you. A year of silence, and now you want explanations?”
“The child?—”
“Yourdaughter.” She watched the words hit him. “Or did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you imagine your mistress would keep your secret forever?”
His face went carefully blank. That marble mask slid into place. She remembered it from their wedding when he’d promised to honor and cherish her before disappearing into the night.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t.” The word cracked through the air. “Don’t you dare stand there and lie to me. Not when she was left on our doorstep like a parcel.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “She was left at Carridan Hall?”
“With a note.” Iris shifted Evie to one arm while fishing the crumpled paper from her pocket. “Though I suppose you already know what it says.”
She thrust it at him and watched his face as he read it. His expression shifted minutely with confusion, recognition, and then something that looked almost like pain before the mask slammed back into place.
“This isn’t…” He trailed off, still staring at the note.
“Isn’t what? Isn’t convenient? Isn’t how you planned for me to find out?” Iris’s voice rose despite her efforts to control it. “A year, Your Grace. You left me alone for an entireyear. No word, no explanation, nothing. And now I know why.”
Evie fussed in earnest. She was most likely disturbed by the raised voices. Iris tried to soothe her, but her own agitation made it difficult.
“You couldn’t even give me the courtesy of discretion,” she continued, quieter now for the baby’s sake. “Your mistress had to abandon her child at my door. Do you know what that felt like? To realize my husband had been?—”
“She’s not mine.”
The flat denial made her laugh again disbelievingly. “Of course she’s not. Her mother knew exactly where to leave her because she’s not yours. She did it because?—”
“She’s not mine,” the Duke repeated. His voice gained strength. “I haven’t… We haven’t…”
He gestured vaguely between them and heat flooded her cheeks.
No, they hadn’t. There had only been one awkward wedding night where he’d barely looked at her before making his excuses and leaving. Then, a year of shame and unanswered letters followed.
“Then whose is she?” Iris demanded. “Because babies don’t simply appear out of thin air.”
The Duke stared at the note again as his jaw worked. She could practically see the war playing out behind his eyes.
“I need to see her properly,” he said finally.
