Chapter 46
The earl and Emily departed early the next morning for London. It was given to Winthrop and Iris to pack what their employers had left of their belongings and then follow in a lighter carriage.
As usual the valet and lady’s maid worked in silence, dedicated to the pursuit of leaving the earl and countess’s suite in such pristine condition that the next guest to enter would never guess at the connubial games played by the previous occupants.
“Well, that’s it,” Winthrop announced, closing the door of the empty armoire. “The place looks better than it did before the party, if I do say so myself.”
“Not quite yet,” Iris murmured, her gaze averted as she marched past him to straighten a pillow on the bed. “There. Now, do not close the door on our way out or you will only dislodge dust motes.”
He stepped in front of her before she reached the door. “There is no need to pretend any longer, Iris.”
“Pretend what?” she asked in hesitation.
“Look me in the eye.”
“No, I’d rather not.”
“Why not?”
“Because there is no further reason to pretend, and I am not certain that I wish for you to know my true feelings. Furthermore, I cannot forgive the pain you caused me the day you called me a temptress.”
“It was an unseemly word to use.”
“It was a wonderful word,” she said, forgetting she had forbidden herself to look into his eyes.
“A wonderful word? And you cannot forgive me for it? Or was it because I kissed you?”
“I cannot forgive you because you acted as though that kiss had never happened, Winthrop,” she burst out, causing him to step back in self-defense. “You gave me reason to believe that you found me desirable, only to recoil from my presence from that moment since.”
“But I thought I had offended you, overstepped my bounds.”
“We have been posing as man and wife for the good of all England, sir. Do you think I am so accomplished at trickery that I could play this part without . . . without . . .”
Her voice trailed off into a sigh. She turned, lowering her gaze, only to feel his hand upon her shoulder.
“Temptress,” he said loudly and deliberately.
She whirled around, raising her hand to his face. “I will not live in the same house with you again, even if it means I might end up living on the streets.”
He closed his hand around her wrist, drawing her toward him. “I understand. When we reach London we will immediately announce our engagement. There will be no more pretending between us, Iris. The next time we share a bed I will not be lying beside you as stiff as a corpse. I will be your husband in every sense of the word, and I hope you understand what I mean.”