Page 39 of Duke of Iron (Unyielding Dukes #2)

Thirty-Five

“ I t’s quite all right, darling,” April said as she stroked May’s hair while she wept in her sister’s arms. “This is what drawing rooms are for. That, and the display of ghastly wedding presents.”

“It’s not all right,” May managed. “I can’t do it. I can’t go back there.” She had only been at April’s home for a few hours, but she was feeling more lost than ever. She could not go back to Logan—not that it was an option—and she certainly did not want to go to the house he’d prepared for her.

“You won’t have to,” April said, “not until you want to. You may stay as long as you like. Months, if necessary. You know how Theo adores company, provided it does not eat into his personal time.”

May was fairly certain the Duke’s tolerance for company ended somewhere between “a single civilized tea” and “one entire Vestiere invasion,” but she did not press the issue. She wiped her nose, and the effort to keep her chin from wobbling almost toppled her off the settee.

April re-armed her with another handkerchief and brushed away wisps of hair from her face. “Tell me the worst of it, May. All the details. Even the embarrassing ones.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” May said, but then, on reflection, “No, it is. I left the baby alone in his cradle this morning. I simply… walked out. I didn’t even say goodbye.”

April’s brows creased. “You were upset. Rydal will not hold it against you.”

“I’m not upset. I’m destroyed.” May squeezed the handkerchief, twisting it into a sad, wrung shape.

“At the park, I thought that I could go home with Rydal and find a husband in the study, a man who will always need me. But Logan only wished to send me away. He bought a house and is planning for me to live in it. He hates me.”

April hugged her fiercely. “He does not hate you. Anyone who has seen you together?—”

“Maybe in public,” May said. “But in private, there is no affection from him.” She pressed her fist to her mouth. “What if he comes here to force me to move to the new house?”

April’s expression darkened. “If he dares, I will have Theo throw him bodily into the street.”

At this, May almost smiled. “I should pay money to see that.”

“Not nearly as much as you should pay to see what June would do. She’s upstairs, you know, composing a letter of rebuke. She plans to have it delivered immediately to ensure it is both immediate and inconvenient.”

May gave a watery laugh. “We agreed from the start that this marriage was one of convenience. My foolish little heart fell in love.”

“Hearts are meant to fall in love, May,” April soothed.

May gave an emphatic shake of her head. “It does not matter, for I grew to expect more than he can give.” May knotted her hands in her lap.

“I never thought I’d become the sort of woman who wishes for a grand romance.

But I do, April. I want to be loved, and I think—I think he almost could, if he would let himself. ”

April, whose own marriage had started as a contract and become something else entirely, only sighed. “Men are not clever, darling. They are not even moderately intelligent about their own feelings. They must be led, like horses, with oats and the occasional sharp stick.”

May could not stop the sigh that came with a shudder. April tilted her head and regarded her. “Do you want him back?”

“I want the version of him that smiled at the baby. I want the one who called me a hurricane and meant it as a compliment.” May’s voice quavered. “But I can’t go back and be nothing again. I won’t.”

“Then you shan’t,” said April. “You’ll stay here until he grovels. We will allow only the most extravagant apologies.”

“I don’t think he knows how to grovel,” May said.

There was a knock at the door, one so abrupt it made both sisters jump. A moment later, Theo stepped in, his face appearing as though it had been carved from stone.

“Irondale is here,” he announced, and May stiffened, then blinked in rapid succession as she tried to remember how to breathe.

“I—I beg your pardon?”

“Your husband wishes to see you,” he clarified.

April squeezed her hand. “I believe he’s come for you.”

May’s heart was beating so loudly she struggled to concentrate. Her fingers bunched in her skirts, and she closed her eyes, desperately wishing she could believe April.

But she had left Logan with neither an explanation nor a farewell, and he had probably come here to order her to move to the house he had prepared for her—to ensure she truly fulfilled her end of their bargain.

Shaking her head, she said, “No, he is not here for me.” She looked up at Theo and added, “Please tell him I am not here. I have no wish to see him.”

April touched her shoulder. “May?—”

“Please, don’t.”

Logan paced the marble foyer while the butler stood guard.

He refused to accept that May would not see him.

He had been kept here precisely eleven minutes, and every minute was accounted for by the ticking of an elaborate ormolu clock whose main function, he suspected, was to rattle the nerves of visitors.

He made a study of the possible lines of assault.

The grand staircase was easily defensible, but the side hallways were narrower and less patrolled.

If he timed it right, he could probably sneak out and climb into May’s bedchamber as he had done before.

And Logan had climbed more treacherous facades in his youth, though never in broad daylight.

He adjusted his cuffs and contemplated whether it would be more effective to simply shout up the stairwell for May. If he could count on anything, it was the Vestiere commitment to dramatic entrances.

He was about to make his move when a ripple of sound carried down the hall—quick footsteps, the rustle of a coat, then a voice he recognized.

“Loitering is very much in fashion this Season, Irondale. I applaud your dedication to the art.” The Duke of Stone—Theo—strode into the foyer, every inch the country squire in the city for a lark.

Logan regarded him. “They’re keeping me out. I suspect the house is ringed with iron.”

Theo gave him a thin smile. “Lady Irondale is not at home.”

Logan let that settle, then, “Where is she?”

Theo shrugged. “She left this morning, alone. Not a word to anyone but April. Frankly, I assumed you’d know her whereabouts better than the rest of us.”

“I would not be here if I did.”

Theo tilted his head, assessing. “If you’re going to make a fool of yourself, Irondale, you might as well do it in style. Come. The club’s less dreary at this hour, and you look like you could use a drink.”

Logan followed, not because he wanted to, but because the alternative was standing in that mausoleum of family pride and being pitied by a man in livery.

The carriage was waiting. Theo directed the groom, then sat back, stretching his legs. “You know, my wife thinks you’re a villain.”

“She’s not the only one.”

Theo let a smile drift onto his lips. “But she’s more honest about it. She says you terrify her sister, but also that you make her laugh, which is more than I can say for any of May’s previous suitors.”

Logan looked out the window. “She is easily amused.”

“Not by half,” Theo said. He watched Logan with the air of a man taking notes for later. “The world expects a certain thing from you, Irondale. Did you know that?”

“I have heard rumors,” said Logan.

“They expect you to be impossible, cruel, and above all, alone. They expect you to die at forty-five, eaten by your own legend.”

Logan almost smiled. “They may yet be correct.”

Theo snorted. “You’re not as cold as you pretend. Or else you would not be here.”

Logan did not answer. The carriage jostled them over a rut, and he found himself drumming his fingers on his knee.

Theo shifted, then said, “You know, I almost ruined it with April.”

Logan glanced over, surprised.

Theo continued, “Early on. I thought if I cared less, it would hurt less. So I kept her at a distance, convinced myself it was noble, even. She nearly married someone else. The only thing that saved me was a drunken confession and a very patient horse.” He shook his head.

“If you have something to say, you’d best say it before you’re forced to ride a horse to Kent in the rain. ”

Logan found himself considering, for once, what advice he might give to another man in his position. The answer was simple: You’re out of time, Blackmore. Act or lose her forever.

He said nothing until the carriage stopped in front of White’s. The driver opened the door, and Theo made to step out, but Logan caught his arm.

“I need your help,” Logan said. “It’s urgent. I would not ask, but there is no one else.”

Theo squared his shoulders. “What do you need?”