Page 81 of An Accidental Bride for the Duke
“I see that now.”
“I know you do.” She took her mother’s hand and squeezed it lovingly. “And thank you for saying.”
In the grand scheme of things, it was such a small moment. The simplest of apologies, and not for anything specific. But it spoke largely to the problem at hand, confirming that it was never too late to apologize, just as it was never too late to forgive.
“I’m not done yet,” her mother continued. “Above all else, these last few days…” A shake of the head. “I was too quick to judge. Too quick to presume. You left the duke and rather than asking why you did, doing as a mother ought and making sure that her daughter was well, I assumed the worst and refused to listen. What I should have done from the beginning was asked why…” She looked at Iris. “And whatever the reason, promised to do as I could to make it better.”
Iris sighed. “Sadly, Mother. This isn’t one of those things you can make better.”
“I would like to try.”
“Still trying to protect me,” Iris said with humor and love.
“Some things will never change,” her mother countered. “The difference now being that for once I am willing to listen. I want to help, Iris. But only if you wish for it.”
Her mother couldn’t help her. In truth, nobody could. Iris’ problems were her own and time was what she needed to cure her woes and see herself set right. But lying in this room, letting her sorrow grow and break her, wasn’t helping either.
Perhaps just speaking of it out loud is the first step to getting past this pain and this hurt? And for once, my mother wants to help me, not because she thinks she must, but because she hates seeing me like this.
“It is all so silly,” Iris began. As she did, she shuffled closer to her mother and allowed her to be wrapped in her arms.
“These things generally are,” her mother cooed as she stroked her hair.
It was there, sitting on her bed, held by her mother, that Iris told her all that had happened between herself and the duke. His rules about not having his private life pried into. The way she had learned about Percy and his mother and how this had affected him. How she had lied to him, obscuring what she knew because she had been afraid—because she had worried it might change what she and the duke were slowly starting to become. And finally, when he had found out, betraying his trust, and ruining everything.
“And he walked out?” her mother asked. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Iris said, sniffing back the tears. “Which did not surprise me. I knew it would happen when he found out. I only wish I had told him sooner. Then, maybe…”
“Iris…” Her mother pulled back and looked at her. “This was not your fault.”
“It is.”
“No,” she said sternly. “It is not. Nor is it the duke’s, although I hate to admit such a thing. What this is, is a failure to communicate based on an assumption about how the other might feel.”
“What do you mean?” Iris frowned.
“You assumed how the duke would react, which is why you did not tell him. And he assumed you did so with malice or for the wrong reasons, which is why he acted the way he did. In fact, there is one thing that the two of you did not do, which might just solve all of this.”
“What… what are you speaking about?”
“Talking to one another,” her mother said with a slight smile. “Tell me, have the two of you spoken since? Really spoken?”
“I…” Iris hesitated, knowing the answer, and feeling embarrassed about it. “In a fashion—his brother, Robert returned the next day to apologize. And Philip refused to hear it. He as good as told me that some things were not worth forgiving. He does not want to hear it.”
“But you have not asked for forgiveness, have you? Still, you and he have not spoken directly. Why, for all you know, His Grace is of the same mind as you. He might think that he is the onewho needs to ask for forgiveness. But as you have not seen one another, that is rather impossible to do.”
It was a strange thing to admit that her mother was right. Stranger still that it brought Iris little real hope.
Perhaps she should have sought the duke out and spoken more directly to him? Perhaps they should have argued, fought, worked through this as only they could. But that they had not been able to was at the heart of the problem. They were both so different… or perhaps they were too similar.
Iris had not left because she hated the duke. She had not run because she thought what she did was unforgiveable. She had done it because at the end of the day, she and the duke were two different people. And that was one thing that could not be fixed by a simple apology. At least she didn’t think so.
And seeing as Philip had not come to find her, told her well and truly that he was of the exact same opinion.
“Maybe you are right,” Iris conceded. “Maybe you are wrong. Either way, it amounts to the same thing.” She sniffed and wiped her nose. “That this marriage was doomed to failure.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
