The Vauxhall Party was lavish. Plenty of drinks poured, plenty of food out and amusements which promised to entertain, with feathers and candles and finery all around. They arrived at dusk, Daphne looking stunning, eyes alight with excitement, resplendent in her gown of forget-me-not blue. Iris wore a gown of soft sage, her hair half up, half down, in soft golden curls, with flowers from the Bridgerton House Gardens tucked neatly across the crown of her head, while a pretty string of pearls sat about her neck.

Colin linked his arm with Iris, standing an inch or two shorter than her, he positively vibrated with excitement.

"Do you think Miss Thompson might be here?" He enquired of Iris. Iris could only tip her head non-committally, a small smile gracing her features. "I know not, dearest, but perhaps Miss Featherington might know more," she gestured to the red-haired friend of the second Bridgerton daughter, looking pretty in pastel pinks and purples, and Colin nodded, gently kissing Iris' gloved knuckles in an apology as he left her to speak with his friend. Iris turned to Anthony, who stared at Daphne, while fidgeting and grumbling under his breath. Sensing Lady Bridgerton about to say something, Iris stepped towards Anthony and caught his attention.

"Lord Bridgerton, I do believe you owe me a dance," she smiled at him sweetly as he narrowed his gaze. "Iris, you know I do not dance at these engagements," he sighed, his brown eyes searching hers for whatever mischief she was up to. A soft but thoughtful smile appeared on her lips as she slanted her gaze to Lady Bridgerton before she replied coyly, "Oh, you won't dance with me? Shall I advertise to the mamas and daughters here that you are, in fact, free to other offers this evening then?"

Iris stifled a giggle as Anthony snatched her hand and began leading her to the dancefloor regally. As she passed by Daphne, she shot her a playful wink in response to her expression of thanks, before turning her attention to Anthony.

Turning to face her, on the floor, he bowed as she curtseyed gracefully before taking their hold as the music began. Twirling and moving prettily around him for the dance Anthony narrowed his gaze at Iris, "I know what you are up to, Iris," he teased her. Iris cocked her head as she swirled around him, palms meeting as soft as a gentle kiss before them, "I have no idea what you could mean," she replied, her cheeks pinking as he held her gaze. Anthony tutted at her, and she smiled coyly again. "I had not bargained on you threatening me, you are meant to be on my side," he quipped, twirling her effortlessly. Iris smiled demurely, twisting in his arms before reaching for him, as always, she eyed the crowd around her and tipped backward into an elegant dip.

"I am always on your side, Anthony, never doubt that," she whispered to him when his face neared hers to lift her into a twirl, heart thudding loudly in her chest at his proximity to her. Gulping, she drew in a breath and continued, "but I must defend Daphne in her quest for a suitable match."

She really is beautiful in the evening light he mused, taking her in. Iris smelled like sunrise, fresh and crisp and floral, while his beloved Siena was like night, scenting of spices, sweetness and sweat. They contrasted each other, Siena with her olive skin and dark hair and eyes – a seductress, with the voice of an angel, and Iris with her pale skin and fair features, soft and pliant and loyal. Anthony was struck then, by what Hastings had said that night – that Iris was a ready made wife and had been schooled in running a household by his own mother.

No, he thought, I mustn't be selfish, and this is not what Father meant, surely, Anthony mused, enjoying his dance with the Edgehill ward. She had been demure and polite and had befriended each one of his siblings. She loved them all dearly, and cared so deeply for each of them, and he found her so wonderful because of this. He found, especially following the debut, that he worried about who she might accept, should anyone make an offer and he determined he would not stand in the way of her happiness.

Iris dipped into an elegant curtsey as the dance ended, and Anthony led her from the floor, passing Colin with Penelope heading to the floor for their own dance. Iris readjusted her gloves and smiled, enjoying the majesty of the decorations of the party.

Shortly after, he made his apologies and left her, spouting some nonsense about an acquaintance he needed to refresh, before dropping her hand with a fond squeeze and departed. Iris nodded once, and turned to wander the crowd, immediately uncomfortable, before a slender arm grasped hers and the fair face of Miss Cressida Cowper appeared. She smiled sharply at Iris, almost as though fangs were bared. "Why my dear Miss Edgehill," she crooned spitefully, eyes narrowing, "it is so marvellous to see you at the soiree, one wondered if Lord Bridgerton would let you out of his sight at all," she snarked. Iris sighed, fatigued by the selfish woman.

"Miss Cowper, I will always show due respect to Lord Bridgerton as he is both my friend and protector, why would I not spend time with someone I hold in high regards?" Iris asked, hiding her trembling hands by adjusting her gloves again.

Miss Cowper laughed, a feminine but cold sounding laugh, she halted her movement, causing Iris to stop and look at her. "Iris, you really should be more careful, your real feelings are beginning to show. Though I expect it is fairer than Daphne behaves, hoping she can catch all suitors," she snipped.

Iris decided this evening, the she barely could tolerate Miss Cowper in her pretty gown, with her pretty hair and pretty platitudes to those with no personality, and deftly removed her arm from the woman's grasp.

"Real feelings or not, Miss Cowper," Iris retorted, her voice as hard as steel, "at least I do not make a fool of myself trying to attract the attention of anyone, and neither Daphne Bridgerton – for you should always remember just who she is – would ever stoop so low as to attempt sabotage in another ladies wake to secure a match." Iris let out a breath and wheeled about to leave. She had finally had enough and wanted to leave.

She eventually bumped back into Anthony, who immediately threaded her arm into the crook of his elbow and resumed distracting her, discussing the evening's entertainment further.

Anthony and she chatted amiably while they took a turn about, when the Master of Ceremonies called the guests together to enjoy a sight for all. A line was lit and hundreds of bulbs had charged into light following this. Daphne appeared at Iris's elbow, "Is that not the most bizarre?" she exclaimed, eyes full of wonder. Noticing Anthony's attention on Iris, softly gazing at the young woman who behaved as an older sister beside him, her features enraptured with the sight before them, the firelight warming her features, Daphne smiled knowingly before drawing her brothers attention.

"Look Brother!" she exclaimed, successfully drawing his attention, before faltering at the look on his face.

"What is it?" she enquired, warily.

Anthony sighed, standing straight to address his sister. "Lord Berbrooke's barony is over 200 years old. His lineage is legitimate. He has had an excellent education, possesses no debts, never hurt an animal or a woman, and is even a decent shot." He drew in a deep breath before glancing at Iris ruefully. Returning to Daphne he smiled gently, resigned, "to speak strictly, there is nothing wrong with him," Reaching out for Iris, he opened his mouth to speak with her, before Daphne interrupted him.

"What should any of this..." she began, worry creasing her beautiful features. Iris grimaced, already aware of where this topic of conversation was going. Anthony out a hand up to halt his sister, before she began to question him further.

"You are to marry him." Anthony's tone was firm. Clearly his arguments with his mother had been frequent enough to drive the need for marriage for Daphne home. Daphne's eyes widened, almost comically as she processed what her brother proposed.

"Nigel?" Was all she could manage. Iris cringed, the mans behaviour still unsettling her. She felt for Daphne, already feeling the tension rising, the beauty and splendour of the evening already fading.

"I had to find you a husband, Sister," Anthony offered, by way of an explanation, "now, be grateful it is done."

Anthony offered his hand again to Iris, offering her another dance, before turning back to his sister's look of shock. Daphne's face was pale and she almost trembled, unhappy as she was. Anthony softly spoke again, to soften the news; "It should be just as easy to fall in love with Lord Berbrooke as with anyone else."

Anthony turned Iris towards the music, soft tones playing from the stringed quartet, and Iris almost missed Daphne's challenge. Her curt tone cut through to Anthony, who stood rigid upon hearing her declaration of "I will not hear of this!"