Page 54 of Plucked By the Orc

“Easy enough for you to say now. How do you think it makes me feel?”

He had no answer. Indeed, it was one of those queries where no answer was expected. A rhetorical question. And so they remained for a minute in awkward silence.

“So that’s it then?” Iris said at last. “I guess I know where I stand. Should I leave all my clothes and finery for the next girl you find on the street? I suppose you’ve had your fill of me, and now all that’s left is to prance me about as if I were a prized show horse?”

“Madam, you make me sound like a man without honor.”

“I didn’t suppose honor had much to do with what passed between us.”

“If you feel that way, then I pity you. It tells me you have not transcended human prejudice and views of the world.”

“Must you always put things under such a scientific lens? How does it make youfeelthat your words struck a violent note in my heart? To hear that I feel used.”

Duncan’s fists clenched. He felt terrible. How else could he possibly feel?

He had made a mistake in getting emotionally involved with her and refused to make the mistake worse. All of this was bollocks. Inevitably, Iris would find a romance with a human man, even some dolt like Felton Maberly, preferable to him.

“If you are unhappy, I suggest we abstain from activities relating to the bedroom. Perhaps we both should retire for the evening. To separate quarters.”

Iris Gabbert retained her dignity as she stood, but when she left the library, she slammed the door with a force he didn’t realize she possessed. The panel rattled behind her.

Chapter Eighteen

“Lottie!” Iris waved as soon as she spotted her best mate in front of the marble arches of the Theatre-Royal at Drury Lane, still lugging the wicker basket filled with flowers like Iris herself had once carried.

For a moment, Iris hesitated. Lot’s back was turned to her, but Iris would have recognized her wiry red curls anywhere. Wispy snowflakes drifted around them, melting on contact with the ground. Iris couldn’t help but think the long pelisse Lottie wore this evening was far too thin for the weather. It made Iris even more upset that she couldn’t secure a spot for Lot under Duncan’s roof. It had been a small enough thing to ask.

Hadn’t it?

Determining she would ask Mrs. Thompson for help finding a decent replacement for Lottie’s cloak, Iris resumed her anxious waving. “Over here.”

Iris had chosen the plainest gown from the wardrobe at Duncan’s townhouse, a pale Clarence blue organza cut modestlyfor daytime, collar and hem both trimmed with scalloped lace. And then she’d plopped on a jolly bonnet with a trio of fabric rosettes framing the front panel. Nothing fancy, yet far better than anything Lot had seen her in before.

Sure enough, when her friend turned around, she made a pantomime of holding her hand above her eyes and squinting before letting out a little whistle as Iris approached her.Lot set her basket of flowers down on the ground and spread her arms wide.

“As I live and breathe. If it ain’t Empress Josephine ‘ere to ‘onor a low-life like me with her presence.”

“Gah! You know it’s me.”

“Only because ‘ya warned me.” Lottie shook her head, but at least she was still grinning. “Otherwise, I would never have recognized you.”

“How could you not? I’m the same, I am.”

“That’s a laugh! But it’s all right, it is. Ain’t you just the picture of a respectable lady, Iris Gabbert? I don’t know if I should hug you. I might discombobulate all that finery.”

“Enough of that now,” Iris said, embracing her friend tightly. She tried not to mind, but she wondered how long it had been since Lottie had last bathed. That was the sort of detail she never would have noticed before. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course. I’m glad ‘ya came to see a wretched sot like me and all that.” Lot patted Iris’s back awkwardly. “If you ‘adn’t mentioned it beforehand, more than likely, I’d have tried to sell you a flower.”

Iris’s heart fell. While she was grateful to see her friend, this wasn’t exactly the reunion she’d expected. Lot almost seemed scared of her. “La! Am I that changed?”

“‘Ya are. And that was the point, weren’t it? I remember that what you told me. A lady of society, you are. No more Iris Gabbert, flower seller.”

Iris didn’t like the sound of that. Not at all. She had gone to Duncan Higgins to learn the manners and enunciation a lady would use, but she didn’t want to change who she was inside.

“That’s not so. I’m still Iris.”

“I can tell ‘ya got somethin’ on your mind. That’s the Iris I know, it is.” Lot tilted her head, one of the red curls underneath her bonnet poking out and falling over her left eye. “We should have a chat, then?”

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