“If I marry John,” Fleur said, louder this time, as if she could forcibly contradict Iris with nothing but the tone of her voice, “Marie-Claire will be the sister of that Kenworthy girl, the one who married a peasant. She will not receive invitations, and she will have no opportunity to meet those eligible young gentlemen. If she marries, it will be to some fat old merchant who wants nothing but her name.”

“I daresay that several of those eligible gentlemen will also be fat and old,” Iris said, “and they will certainly want her for her name.”

Fleur turned sharply around, her eyes flashing. “But she wouldn’t have to marry them. It’s not the same. Don’t you see? If I marry John—no, let’s be honest, if I choose to marry John, Marie-Claire will have no choices at all. My freedom for my sister’s—what kind of person would that make me?”

“But you don’t have a choice,” Iris said. “At least not the one you think. You can either marry Mr. Burnham or let us pretend the baby is ours. If you steal away and pretend to be a widow, you will be found out. Do you really think no one will discover what you’ve done? And when they do, you will ruin Marie-Claire far more thoroughly than if you were Mrs. Burnham.”

Iris crossed her arms and waited for Fleur to consider this. In truth, she had probably been exaggerating. England was a big country, maybe not as big as France or Spain, but it took the better part of a week to travel from one end to the other. If Fleur settled in the south, she might be able to live her whole life as a fake widow without anyone near Maycliffe learning the truth.

But surely that couldn’t be the best solution.

“I wish . . .” Fleur turned with a rueful smile. “I wish that . . .” She sighed. “Maybe if I were from your family, if my cousin were an earl and my other cousin had married one . . .”

It wouldn’t make a difference, Iris thought. Not for a gently born lady wishing to marry a tenant farmer. Still, she said, “I will support you.”

Fleur looked up with a puzzled expression.

“Richard, too,” Iris said, praying that she was right to speak for him in this. “There will be a scandal, and there will be some who will no longer acknowledge you, but Richard and I will stand by you. You and Mr. Burnham will always be welcome in our home, and when we entertain, you will be our most honored guests.”

Fleur smiled at her gratefully. “That is very sweet of you,” she said, but the look on her face was gently condescending.

“You are my sister,” Iris said plainly.