A/N: Hi everyone! I'm baaack! Please enjoy the next instalment and let me know what you think!
As always, I only own Iris and her interactions - everything familiar belongs to Shonda (as this follows the Netflix series).
The morning of the boxing match dawned, and found Iris awake and alert, sat at her dressing table. She worried a pair of lace gloves in her hand as she glanced at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glinting, but her whole demeanour trembled with nerves.
Remembering her father always had loud opinions on boxing, Iris closed her eyes and willed herself to remember.
Iris, the engagement of two men in a contest of strength, quickness, endurance, etc., using their bare hands, has captured the imagination of gentlemen, spectators and participants alike since the beginning of time. It is endurance and strength, energy and strategy, and one can earn and learn from boxing, indeed.
Iris scowled as her fathers' words came back to her, as she began to drag a comb through her golden locks, his advice has nothing to help me understand the match, she mused awkwardly, before beginning to twist her curls this way and that. Soon, Rose entered her room bringing her standard cup of tea, and began working on her hair as soon as she had placed the dainty china on the dresser.
Iris sipped her tea thoughtfully as Rose neatly pinned her tresses into an acceptable style and began leafing through her gowns to find something suitable for the day. Iris gestured to an emerald coloured day gown, as she thumbed her perfume decanter, gently applying the violet scent to her wrists, the column of her throat, and a daub behind her ears.
Once dressed, she made her way downstairs and grabbed a small punnet of grapes and some fresh bread and butter to tide her over until after the match. She eyed Daphne, who seemed to bristle with excitement and nodded once in greeting.
Soon enough, Anthony's head popped into the parlour and he jerked his head at his sister and his Ward, gesturing them to the door. Daphne wasted no time climbing into the carriage gracefully.
Anthony stopped Iris from climbing in, pulling her out of sight of the carriage window.
"Iris," Anthony began, his hand clutching hers. Distractedly, Iris realised she had forgotten her gloves inside, as she focussed her attention on the young Lord Bridgerton, "I hope you are not having second thoughts for this evening," he said softly.
Iris smiled shyly and shook her head coyly, "no," she smiled, keeping her eyes locked on his face, his expression was open as he regarded her. "No second thoughts," she added, squeezing his hand.
Anthony glanced at her bare hands, before raising an eyebrow mischievously, "why Miss Edgehill, you are underdressed," he faux-mocked her, his voice like silk, as he tucked her hand into the crookof his arm, turning them back to the carriage. Iris narrowed her eyes at him and turned to face the house. "Very well," she conceded slyly, "I shall retire and you can chaperone your sister," Iris moved to return to the house, when a tight grip on her hand stopped her.
"I wish you would make it easier to give you a gift," Anthony grumbled, pulling a smart white box from the inside of his jacket which he offered her. Iris opened it and peered inside to see soft ivory netted gloves. They were finely made and beautiful, with small irises embroidered near the wrists.
"Anthony," Iris breathed, gently touching the gloves, "I do not know if I can accept such a gift," she sighed, looking back up at him, startling at the intent look on his face. "You can," he began, removing them from their packaging, "and you will, for fear of offending me," he continued, sliding first one, then the other onto her pale soft fingers. Iris allowed this, and finished gently tugging them to fit snugly on her hands, before the two joined Daphne in the carriage.
The journey was short and quiet, Iris ruminated on the conversation outside the carriage, while Anthony stared at her intently the entire journey to the venue, and all the while, Daphne sat smugly, eyes darting between the two.
They arrived at the venue, and Anthony helped both ladies from the carriage, entering the space with his sister on one arm, and Iris on the other. Soon after arriving, Daphne met up with and took the arm of the Prince, leaving Iris with Anthony.
"Lord Bridgerton," Iris began, wary of the many bodies pressing into the venue for the excitement of the match. Turning to face Iris, Anthony cocked his head, to better attend her over the din, "I wonder," she murmured, her face watching out for gossip mongers, before she continued elegantly, "why it is you have bestowed such a fine and beautiful gift upon me, and what you feel it means to you?" she asked, looking him in the face.
"I am no rake, Miss Edgehill," Anthony responded kindly, "and am not in the mood, nor the business to toy with the emotions of any young lady, but I have bought you this gift to declare intent," he offered her a secret smile, as confusion clouded her features, "I am sure any young gentleman wishing to court you would offer you flowers, Iris," he carried on, steering her towards the benches to locate a seat for them both, "but I would like to believe that I know you better, and thought that you would admire the gloves more."
Iris could not stop the pink flush from blossoming across her cheeks, before she nodded, "and that is what you wish?" She prodded gently, "to court me?" she asked. Anthony stopped his gaze from roaming the room and turned his attention to her. Gently, he took her hand and squeezed it, "I am finding it harder to be without you, Iris," he said solemnly. Thus, she had her answer. Iris could not believe this was happening, but her heart soared at the information and she nurtured it caringly.
Luckily, Iris was saved from responding when the bell clanged to signal the beginning of the match. Iris's heart hammered in her chest, adrenaline spiking as she watched Will Mondrich size up his opponent. Iris regarded his form, he seemed to be the underdog, as her father might have commented, but he seemed resilient. Men and women stood in their pews shouting, cajoling and encouraging the fight, names of both contenders being screamed from all over.
The sounds and sights became overwhelming to Iris, who clutched tightly to her silver shawl, as the match progressed. Anthony stood and called encouragement to the local Mondrich, and Iris was stunned to hear first the Duke of Hastings calling out support to his friend, and then even more so to hear Daphne calling out support to the challenger.
Iris eyed Lord Featherington across the room, disapprovingly as he heckled, and held her breath at the sounds of bare knuckles battering against bare flesh.
Glancing over to Daphne, Iris saw her cosying up to the Prince and smiled softly, her worry for the girl prevalent as her behaviour had changed most drastically these last few days. Daphne seemed absorbed in the match, bright eyed as she took everything in.
Daphne stood out in the venue, with everyone wearing dark colours, or working class in their modest colours, while she wore a soft powder blue. Iris by now had stopped paying attention to the match, and was watching how Daphne and the Duke behaved like magnets, eyes and focus drawn to one another repeatedly and Iris prayed that Daphne would not be hurt in whatever endeavour she was planning.
Soon, the victor was declared and Will Mondrich tiredly clambered out of the boxing ring, earning congratulatory pats to his shoulders and back from well wishers.
Anthony almost dragged Iris over to him, leaving Daphne have some privacy with her Prince. Anthony congratulated Will heartily, while Iris stood demurely by his side. So focussed on Anthony was she, that she missed The Duke of Hastings himself sidling up to her.
"Is it finished then?" he asked her again, when she turned her hazel gaze to his. Iris raised a questioning brow, and Simon gestured with a flick of his eyes to Daphne. Iris pondered a moment, and shook her head, "not as far as I am aware," she responded, turning to him, "but," she continued, "if indeed it is not yet an understanding, then I believe it soon may be. Anyone watching can see he is besotted by her," Iris finished consolingly. She wanted to comfort the duke, propriety be damned, she could see the effect that this mess had brought on, but knew she could not do anything further.
The Duke nodded once and offered her a bow, which she reciprocated, bobbing a polite curtsey and he turned and left, almost dragging Will with him.
Iris turned to Anthony, now realising how quiet the room was. Anthony smirked at her, raising her hand to his lips and settling a featherlight kiss to her knuckles.
"I am not sure I want to retire so soon," he whispered conspiratorially. Laughing lightly Iris nodded in agreement, "however, I am eager to see just how much more beautiful you can bloom for this evenings ball, Miss Edgehill, so I fear we must collect my sister and return home."
Iris playfully dipped into a curtsey, all the while he still held her hand, and they turned to fetch Daphne, before returning to their awaiting carriage.