An Improper Proposal (The Distinguished Rogues Book 6) (7 page)

“I don’t care about my clothes,” she assured him, but settled for holding his hand. “Are you well?”

He nodded and drew her toward the only chair in the room, situated near the window. Overnight another bed had been crammed into the chamber but they were alone at the moment, the other men having excused themselves upon her arrival. “We had a to-do here during the evening just past, a few fellows fighting over nonsense, but everyone calmed down eventually with no harm done.”

Iris gasped and glanced out at the yard. A handful of men lingered outside, resting against the walls and talking in small groups. She’d not noticed anything amiss in their mood upon her arrival but tempers always flared quickly in this place. The last fight that had erupted within the Marshalsea had ended up with bloodshed. One of her father’s chums had been stabbed. Luckily not fatally but it was a side of life in the prison that terrified her. Her father was not accustomed to the rough and tumble of the grim world.

Her father patted her hand. “I am glad you were not here for it. At least with you gone, I don’t have to worry for your safety.”

She agreed with him but her father had been in danger too and her heart ached anew. “I am safe with Esme.”

Her father nodded. “She’s been a good friend. Very particular of observing the proprieties.”

Well, not all the time. Esme had left her alone with Louth in the hopes she’d be seduced and Iris had failed to experience more than a kiss. Not a very auspicious beginning. She glanced at her father and sadness consumed her. “She speaks fondly of you still.”

“If only she might find you a husband then I would not worry so.”

“Father, please.” She stretched for his hand again. “Do not concern yourself over that?”

“Well, it is the done thing for a woman to make a match. I’m just telling you what everyone knows.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “You must consider how it looks to others. Lady Forsythe is particularly cutting of women who drag their feet on the way to the altar. We might never be invited to dinner again, and you know how your stepmother feels about making the right impression.”

Iris squeezed his hand to halt the flow of his words. Her heart ached that he’d forgotten that what Lady Forsythe and her stepmother felt mattered little anymore. Her father’s second wife had fled to Bath as soon as the money was gone, and good riddance; and Lady Forsythe had refused to acknowledge her existence for some time. “I am sorry I haven’t married yet too, Papa,” she promised him sincerely. A nice husband with a large fortune might have saved them both but the chances of that were far behind her. A protector, and a residence outside of London, was all she could hope for now. “Lord Louth asked after you yesterday.”

Her father appeared startled. “Do I know him?”

“Yes, Papa. He attended my come out and you thought he possessed a keen intellect at the time.”

He frowned at her hand then nodded. “Oh, yes. I did think him very smart. Why did you not think to set your cap for him when you had your come out?”

She had been engaged at that time but she would not mention Grindlewood today. If she did, it would undoubtedly set off a series of conversations that would leave him confused about why her dowry had been used to pay off his last landlord. As for Louth, he was not interested in her or matrimony. “Lord Louth is a friend, sir, and he only pays me attention out of respect for you.”

Her father settled on the end of his bed with a groan. “Nonsense. He’d make a fine husband.”

Iris pressed her lips together. He might make a fine lover too except for his unwillingness. “He has no interest in matrimony.”

“Sounds like a young woman I raised.” Her father regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Charm him and you’ll win his hand in the end.”

“Father.” She laughed and cupped his face. When he got an idea in his head he was impossibly determined. “That is not what I will do. I will not throw myself at the only man who dares to ask me to dance.”

Her father dismissed that with a wave of his hand. “Does his appearance offend you in some way?”

Her eyes widened in astonishment. “No, of course not. He is a very agreeable and gentle man.” And attractive. Thinking of their kiss had lost her several hours of precious sleep last night. She’d tossed about so much, she’d needed to straighten her own bed this morning before the maids could come in.

He smoothed his waistcoat, one that had seen better days, with one hand. “Oh well. Forget I mentioned the man.”

Now that was impossible to do, and especially so after thoroughly kissing him yesterday. She could still feel his large hands pressing her body close to his, his taste in her mouth. The slight rasp of stubble had been a wicked surprise that she’d enjoyed too. She’d almost forget the trouble in her life just to have a chance to kiss him again.

“What about Lord Ettington? I knew his uncle once.”

And had offended the marquess’s uncle, the Duke of Exeter, rather thoroughly, too. “Ettington is married, Papa. Don’t you remember me telling you of his public displays of affection for his wife?” She patted his hand again. “Anyway, never mind your matchmaking attempts. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Her father reached into his trunk and removed a crumpled shirt from the low pile of clothing inside. “I lost a button.”

Iris shook out the shirt and spread it over her lap. “This will take only a minute. Why don’t you tell me your news while I work?”

She dug into her reticule for scissors, needle and thread, and a spare button she’d brought with her just in case of such a need, while her father related the details of recent events in the Marshalsea. His recounting, as always, included news from weeks ago too. Things she already knew. He spoke of them as if they had just happened and she didn’t care to upset him by reminding him of the passage of time between then and now. She just wanted to hear his voice and she was done with the shirt before he finished. She folded the garment neatly away in his trunk. “Perfect again.”

Her father cleared his throat. “Iris, there is something I want to talk to you about.”

“Of course, Papa.”

He took her hands and stared into her face. “When you leave here today, I don’t want you to come back. It is too dangerous here for one so innocent as you.”

Iris shook her head violently. “You cannot mean that.”

“But I do.” He gripped her hands even tighter. “My daughter, I love you more than anything in the world and I never wished to drag you so low. You have a good situation with Lady Heathcote. You live in comfort, and have the respect of those you meet. You should do everything you can to protect your reputation.”

She nodded numbly, having heard it all before and knowing he made sense in a way. However, she wasn’t innocent, and was buried so deep in muck she had no way out but to be ruined. “I will not leave you, and nothing you say will ever make me decide otherwise.”

He turned away as if she’d not spoken. “While you can, you must use this opportunity to find a husband of means and save yourself.”

“Father, I’m not going to abandon you. We discussed this. We can recover and find a little place to rent in the countryside. Won’t that be a nice change from London?” She dug into her reticule and removed the coins that Esme had pressed on her this morning. She placed them into his hand and folded his fingers over them. “I will have more, and soon.”

Her father did not refuse the money but his expression told her he was not happy to take from her again. “My dear child, your heart is so large, but you must realize that you will never have enough to cover the debts unless you marry exceedingly well.”

“Not this again. Please, Papa. I would not argue with you today about this. We have so little time left before I must return to Esme.”

He touched the sleeve of her gown and rubbed the fine material between his fingers. “Consider it well, my dear. Seeing you like this, in gowns so fine and grand, makes sense. You belong among the
ton
.”

She met his gaze. “We belong where we choose. Isn’t that what you’ve always told me?”

“Then work toward making a good match for yourself. You deserve to be happy.”

“I will be happy when you are free,” she assured him. Iris kissed his cheek as tears filled her eyes. Yes, a good marriage would solve many problems but no man would want to marry a thief’s accomplice. Being a mistress was entirely different. At least the situation would be honest and only ever about a little passion. She was sure no harm would come to her future protector if she were charged with a crime committed before their arrangement had begun.

She kissed her father’s cheek again, fussed about him until it was time to depart for the three-mile trip back to Esme’s home, and when she took her leave, promising to return the next day, she thought her father might cry. He expected her to obey him and never return. She always would.

Partway down the rickety stairs, she came face-to-face with the turnkey. “How dare you attack a lord?”

“Toff should have stepped out of the way,” Fitzhugh grumbled but he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Iris punched her hands to her hips and glared. “I refuse to be a party to murder.”

“Complaining won’t do you any good. He’ll never let you go. You do your part and I’ll do mine.”

He glanced up at the barracks doorway where her father’s sad face looked down upon them and waved. “We’ll all pay in the end.”

“You have to save my father,” she whispered. “You have to get him out of here. Please.”

“Can’t even save myself. There ain’t no salvation for the fallen. There ain’t money enough to silence wagging tongues and hide him, not the way he carries on some days.” He trudged up the stairs, eased past her father and disappeared into the room.

If Fitzhugh did ever escape Talbot’s influence, what then would become of her father if he were left here alone?

He might not last a day.

She hurried down the stairs, nodded politely to Fitzhugh’s burly assistant as he fumbled with the lock and stepped out through the Marshalsea prison gate as fast as she could with tears streaming down her cheeks.

No one had died yet, but that didn’t mean they’d be so lucky next time.

Once she reached the nearest corner, she hailed a hack and gave directions for Lord Louth’s Golden Square townhouse. She was going to call on Miss Crewe as a pretext to seeing the earl and arranging when her next lesson would occur. She could be a mistress to him if she could encourage him the right way; experience pleasure such as Lord Louth had teased her with yesterday, and be protected from Talbot.

The trip in the carriage took significantly less time than the long trek on foot but even so her anxiety soared. She’d never deliberately paid a social call to a man before. There was always the possibility that Louth wouldn’t be at home, wouldn’t offer for her, wouldn’t wish to see her.

When the carriage stopped before his home and she applied the knocker, the kindly faced butler greeted her with warm smiles and apologies that Miss Crewe had not yet arisen. “Should you care to leave a card?”

She bit her lip uncertainly. It was a pity to waste the entire trip when it was really the earl she’d come to see. It was a risk but she might not have another chance to see him for days. “Would Lord Louth perhaps be at home?”

“Yes, Miss Hedley.” The butler gestured toward a nearby room. “If you’d care to wait a moment, I shall see if he has time to speak to you today.”

Iris entered a drawing room so elegant, her breath caught. A fine chandelier hung above an exquisite Oriental rug. Deep-cushioned chairs surrounded a fireplace screen fashioned in the Oriental style. The setting took her breath away. She’d had no idea the earl possessed such remarkable taste.

Talbot would rub his hands in glee over the twin jade vases flanking the hearth too.

Lord Louth hurried into the room, straightening his elegant coat into place. “Miss Hedley? I am so sorry to keep you waiting.”

“My lord. The wait was nothing.” She dipped him a curtsy to hide the disconcerting blush sweeping over her skin like a lover’s caress. “Thank you for seeing me at such short notice.”

“Always.” He turned toward the butler and dismissed him. Louth shut the door. “I trust all is well at home and that you’ve recovered from Mr. Meriwether’s appallingly rude questions.”

“Yes, I have.” Her heart clattered against her chest as he drew closer. The man had been so offended by Meriwether’s questioning she’d feared the pair might come to blows. “In truth, I came to see you to discuss my lessons. You rushed away yesterday without deciding when the next would be.”

“I had hoped you’d put that behind you.” He folded his arms over his chest, presenting an intimidating façade. “Were you not satisfied enough with the first lesson?”

She nodded quickly. Louth had not liked the idea she might approach another gentleman in her quest to become a mistress. She hoped to trigger his protective instincts even more today. “Oh yes. But I cannot help thinking perhaps you’d prefer I should ask someone else and be done with the chore.”

His arms dropped to his sides and he took another pace closer. “Miss Hedley, I must make one thing perfectly clear. I know exactly what lesson you need next.”

He swooped on her, dragging her up into his arms and kissing her soundly. With her feet dangling off the floor, she wrapped her arms about his neck purely for self-preservation. However, once she was in his arms again, her senses took over.