The Earl's Wallflower Bride (13 page)

A while
could be an abnormally long period of time. Like forever. But
Iris decided not to say that. What was the point? Nothing they said
would affect how things were going to be for her once she became
Warren’s wife.
Warren’s wife.
Just the thought made her gag.

“Are you all right, dear?” her mother asked,
placing her hand over Iris’ forehead. “You don’t feel hot.”

“I’m just sick to my stomach,” Iris
mumbled.

Her mother’s eyes grew wide, and Iris could
see the panic in her face. “Do you feel like you’re going to vomit?
Should I bring over a bowl?”

“I’m not going to vomit,” Iris assured her.
Her poor mother had a tendency to fuss over her far too much. Maybe
it was because Iris was an only child. “This wedding is a difficult
thing for me to stomach. That’s all.”

“No one can blame you for not feeling well,”
Melissa said.

“No, they can’t,” her mother agreed. “I just
hope your father’s right and that things won’t be as bad as you
fear.”

A knock came at the door, signaling that the
vicar was ready to preside over the wedding. Well, there was
nothing Iris could do to avoid it. It was inevitable. The last
thing she needed was for her father to pick her up and carry her to
the drawing room.

She slipped the necklace on as her mother
wished, but the gemstone felt like a heavy weight, only reinforcing
her loss of the future she had wanted when she thought she might
get to marry someone who actually cared for her.

Such silly fantasies. She should have known
happy marriages were rare, especially among the noble class. Her
chances of a love match had been next to nothing. Really, she
couldn’t be surprised she had ended up with someone like
Warren.

All the fight left her, and she resigned
herself to her future. Pushing down the swell of nausea in her
stomach, she turned to her mother and Melissa.

“I’m ready,” she said, her voice surprisingly
calm, all things considered.

Her mother’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “Let’s get this over
with.” Then, without waiting for a response, she headed for the
door.

Chapter Eleven

W
arren didn’t think he’d ever forget the pleasure that surged
through him when he saw Iris enter the drawing room. He hadn’t
realized she hadn’t taken that much attention to making herself
more attractive in the past. Today, however, she’d made the effort
to look her best, and the change in her appearance was remarkable.
He had no idea she could be so beautiful.

Why had she kept her beauty a secret? If she
hadn’t, there would have been at least a couple gentlemen lining up
to marry her, especially given the fact that her father was the
Duke of Hartwell.

Anthony, who thankfully hadn’t brought his
sister, glanced at Warren, eyebrows raised in surprise.
Understanding Anthony was just as shocked as he was, Warren offered
a shrug. How was anyone to know Iris could look that good?

Warren had invited Malcolm and Robert, but he
hadn’t been sure either one would come. Well, Robert, he suspected
might, but only because Iris’ friend, Bethany, wanted to be there.
But both gentlemen made it to the small ceremony, which was a huge
relief. Maybe this was a sign things weren’t as hopeless as he’d
feared. He’d like to think there might be something he could say or
do to redeem himself.

That matter, however, would have to wait. At
least for the moment. Iris’ father was leading her over to him, and
Warren’s heartbeat picked up in anticipation. He felt as if he had
just invested in a business venture that hadn’t seemed very
promising but had resulted in a large profit. Iris, he knew,
wouldn’t be all that pleased by the comparison, but given his
limited interaction with ladies, he had nothing else to compare
this surprise to.

He and Anthony weren’t the only ones who were
impressed by the change in Iris’ appearance. The others stared at
her as if they weren’t sure she was the lady they had expected. Her
mother seemed very pleased by the change, and Warren caught her
whisper something to her friend that Iris had finally let her make
her “prettier”. That comment struck Warren as odd. Why would the
daughter of a wealthy duke not want to look as attractive as
possible?

Once Iris was standing by him, Warren smiled,
a poor attempt at a greeting. She didn’t respond in kind, but she
didn’t glare at him, either. Though she might not have intended it,
he took that as a promising sign. She was no longer fighting the
union. Yes, he still had a ways to go, but at least this was a step
in the right direction.

The ceremony proceeded with ease, though it
was quite lengthy. He was sure by the end of it, everyone was eager
to get to the wedding breakfast. At least, he knew he was. He
should have grabbed something to eat before coming here, but he’d
been too busy finishing with the details of getting things ready
for Iris’ arrival.

So when they were all seated for the meal, he
was relieved. He honestly wasn’t sure if she’d be willing to talk
to him, even if they sat together, but as it turned out, her mother
and Bethany talked to her. Because of this, it was impossible for
him to even talk to Iris, even if she’d been willing to talk to
him.

It was just as well. This way no one would
see her openly reject him. It was enough she’d done it when he had
dinner with her parents. He didn’t need everyone in the room to
know how much she despised the marriage. So really, he was thankful
she’d been as cordial as she’d been during the ceremony.

When the meal was over, Iris was still
preoccupied with her mother and Bethany, so Warren took the
opportunity to go to Robert and Malcolm before they left.

“I wanted to thank you both for coming,” he
told them.

“I came because Bethany is Iris’ friend, and
she wanted to be here to offer Iris comfort,” Robert replied.

“Yes, I had figured as much,” Warren allowed,
“but I’m glad you still came.”

Warren took a deep breath. He was never good
at expressing his emotions, but he had to try something. Up to now
Robert and Malcolm had been the two best friends he’d ever had.
Anthony was nice, too, but he felt a kinship with Robert and
Malcolm he hadn’t ever had with anyone else. They were like the
brothers he never had.

“Robert, I’ve seen the error of my ways,”
Warren said. “I’m going to treat Iris better than I did at those
dinner parties. I realize it’s going to take time to prove it. I
just ask that you give me a chance.”

Robert’s shoulders relaxed, and he smiled. “I
was hoping you’d say something like that.”

Feeling like a weight had been lifted off his
shoulders, Warren returned his friend’s smile. He looked at
Malcolm, wondering what he might say to smooth things over with
him. Finally, he ventured, “If there’s something I’ve done to upset
you, I want you to know it wasn’t intentional.”

Malcolm winced. “You didn’t do anything. It’s
me. I’ve been changing.”

Surprised, Warren studied Malcolm’s
expression. The gentleman was obviously struggling with something,
but Warren could only guess what that something was. “I don’t
understand. Am I responsible for this change?”

Malcolm glanced around the room. “Can we talk
in private?”

“Just you and me, or do you want Robert with
us?” Warren asked.

“Just you and me,” Malcolm said.

When Warren’s gaze went to Robert to see if
that was all right with him, Robert said, “I should go to Bethany.”
He took a step away from them but then added, “I believe you mean
it, Warren. It would be nice if we could have dinner parties
together again, especially since Bethany and Iris are such good
friends.”

“Yes, that would be nice,” Warren
replied.

Once Robert left, Warren turned back to
Malcolm. “This isn’t my townhouse, so let me ask my father-in-law
if we can talk in the den, all right?”

Malcolm nodded.

Warren could see that Malcolm worried Warren
wouldn’t take the news well. Warren couldn’t be sure of it, either,
since he had no idea what he’d done to upset him. Up until
recently, he hadn’t even been aware he’d even done things to irk
people.

Oh, he knew he bothered some of the gentlemen
at White’s, but someone had to stand up and say the immoral
behavior they liked to engage in was wrong. If Warren didn’t do it,
who would?

Forcing the issue aside, he went over to his
father-in-law who was talking to Anthony. “I know it’s tempting to
invest everything you have,” her father was telling him. “But
there’s a need to save some aside, too. I suggest ten percent of
everything you earn should go into an account. That way, if you
ever end up with bad investments, you’re not destitute.”

“Wise advice,” Anthony admitted, “though not
very fun.”

“Saving isn’t about having fun,” Iris’ father
replied. “It’s about doing the right thing.” Noticing Warren, he
turned to him, “Are you ready to take Iris home?”

“Almost,” Warren said. “I have a friend who
wishes to speak with me in private.” He gestured to Malcolm, who
was talking to Regan. “I suspect the matter is serious, and it’d be
best if no one was around to hear it.”

“Does this have anything to do with Iris?”
her father asked.

“I don’t think so. To be honest, I have no
idea what it is.”

“You may go to another room. In the meantime,
I’ll have Iris’ things brought to your carriage,” her father
said.

Thanking him, Warren turned and headed for
Malcolm. He chanced a glance at Iris and saw Robert had joined
Bethany and Iris’ mother. Robert must have made a joke, for Bethany
and Iris’ mother laughed. Iris managed a smile, but apparently, the
strain of having to marry him had taken more out of her than she
let on during the wedding.

Forcing his gaze off of her, he turned his
attention back to Malcolm and Regan.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Regan was
asking Malcolm as Warren approached.

“I’ve given it a lot of thought,” Malcolm
replied, “and I owe it to Warren to tell him the truth.”

It was then that Regan noticed Warren.
Clearing her throat, she offered Warren a polite smile.
“Congratulations on your marriage,” she told him. “Iris is a
wonderful lady.”

“Yes, she is,” Warren said, wondering if
Regan believed him since she’d been there when he blatantly ignored
Iris at his dinner parties.

She told Malcolm she’d be ready to go when he
returned, said good-bye to Warren, and headed for Iris.

“The duke said it’s all right if we talk in
the den,” Warren told Malcolm.

Since Warren was familiar with the townhouse,
he led Malcolm to the den, his heartbeat picking up with each step.
It wasn’t that he was afraid of confrontation. Most of his life had
been spent in arguing with his half-brother, and to a lesser
extent, his stepmother. But this was different. This time, he had
to wait for someone he cared about to tell him something he
probably didn’t want to hear. And that was a difficult thing to do.
However, it was best they get it over with.

Once they were in the den, Warren almost
offered him some brandy—a mere courtesy—but then thought better of
it. He didn’t think either he or Malcolm felt comfortable enough at
the moment to enjoy brandy.

Instead, he gestured to a chair. “Have a
seat.”

Malcolm sat, and Warren couldn’t help but
notice the way Malcolm didn’t lean back. He sat straight up, hands
on his knees. Warren wasn’t sure if Malcolm sat like that because
he planned to bolt for the door as soon as he was done, but it
certainly seemed like it.

Warren forced a neutral expression and sat
across from him, choosing to lean back, a show of being relaxed
though it was far from how he actually felt. It was the only way he
knew how to deal with awkward situations. He wasn’t good at this
kind of thing. Sure, he could easily hold his own against people
who didn’t like him, but Malcolm was a friend.

Warren cleared his throat. “I hope that
whatever it is, it won’t come between us.”

Warren released his breath. If only he didn’t
feel so inept when it came to knowing he was risking losing someone
he cared about. Perhaps if his home life had been better, he would
know how to adequately do this.

Malcolm seemed just as uncomfortable, for he
shifted on the chair. “Whether or not it comes between us is up to
you.”

Warren didn’t know what to say to that, so he
only indicated he understood.

“Very well,” Malcolm began. “My wife said I
should come out and tell you what I did. I’ve been reluctant to
because you might not want to associate with me afterwards. But
it’s been difficult to be around you, knowing full well what I did.
In many ways, it feels like a betrayal.” He paused. “Your
friendship has meant a lot to me. It’s not often you meet someone
you can discuss business ventures with as much as we do.”