A/N: Happy Monday! Good gracious isn'tthe weather glorious! Here is the latest update. Unfortunately, it will be another 2 or 3 weeks before the next update, BUT, I hope to have more than one chapter ready to put up by then, so bear with me!
Thanks for the new followers and reviews, they are appreciated, as always!
As always, I only own Iris and her interactions - everything familiar belongs to Shonda (as this follows the Netflix series).
The evening had come far too soon for Iris's liking. Daphne had appeared shortly after the evening meal, in order to advise her that their special dispensation had been declined by the archbishop and that Lady Danbury had advised them to visit the Queen in order to plead their case.
Daphne had been so nervous about it, but Iris advised her to be frank with the Queen – her feelings, although confusing, had been real, or that is what Iris had been led to believe and so the Queen should see it could very well be a love match, not just a marriage of convenience.
Daphne had calmed after their talk, leaving Iris with news that Anthony had come to her and appraised her of the situation, having received a severe tongue-lashing from the eldest three Bridgerton siblings, and Daphne urged Iris to speak to him, to clear the situation up.
Having made her decision, she had acquiesced and advised Daphne to get some sleep, while she doused the candles in her room.
Mind made up, a few hours later, Iris pulled on her shoes, and wrapped her cloak about her as the clock struck eleven and made her way through the house silently.
She had made it to the alcove she had hidden in not two weeks prior when a sound startled her. Tucking herself into the darkness and safety of the alcove, she held her breath as Daphne and Rose entered the house from the gardens and passed her for the stairs.
Letting out a quiet breath, Iris continued unimpeded to the doors and slipped into the solace of the gardens.
The moon shined brightly, illuminating the vast, fragrant and colourful gardens of Bridgerton House. Her destination; the glass pavilion she had spent so many hours in stood in shade from a large tree planted nearby, and the pathway there was ensconced in shadow. Feeling so improper to be out thus, and without a chaperone, Iris worried her fingers, but shook herself of her nerves, squared her shoulders and moved along the edge of the garden until she could enter the pavilion.
The gossamer curtains barely covered the glass windows as she entered the space, the candelabras empty of candles. Iris circled the space, pulling the gossamer coverlets free to hide the window panes and offer even a modicum of more privacy.
Iris had always loved the gardens.
Anthony and Benedict had always joked that if one needed to find her, a pretty flower, then one only needed to search the gardens to find the Iris. At night the colours were spectacular, illuminated by the brightness of the moon. It had always fascinated her, how the gardens changed due to the time of day or the weather, but the overwhelming peace the gardens brought her was why she spent so many nights in the pavilion as it was.
She was just talking herself out of staying, moving from sitting, to standing, to pacing and sitting again, when the door opened quietly, and Anthony stepped in, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click, which sounded louder than a regiment of horsemen to Iris.
Taking a breath, she sat and faced him, hands demurely in her lap, cloak wrapped about her. Anthony looked dishevelled, his hair a wild mess, proof of how much he had run his fingers through it, his cravat loose, and he was not wearing his jacket. He stood by the door staring at Iris, whose hair reflected the moonlight and caused her features to sparkle.
He stepped forward once and sat on a bench beside hers. "Iris," he began, fingers scrunching his hands into fists and relaxing again every few moments, "I wanted to thank you for meeting me, we have much to discuss, it seems," he said, before inhaling and softly adding, "and I have much to atone for, and to explain."
Iris said nothing, hazel eyes piercing his across the pavilion. Anthony sighed and stood. "I confess, I had gone to see Miss Rosso, before the duel, merely to advise her that I would not be seeing her either way the duel went, for you see, she has contacted me since we ended our...dalliance." Anthony turned to face the gardens at this point, leaning against the window as his gaze flitted across the flowerbeds bathed in moonlight.
"I fancied myself in love with her, at one point, but I have come to realise this was not the case, merely that she was the first woman I have ever formed an emotional attachment to, and I felt I needed to do right by her..." he trailed off.
He moved about the space, before another realisation hit him, hard and suddenly, his fathers words on his deathbed ringing in his ears; he had meant for him to marry Iris, do right by Iris, he had said, and Anthony had almost lost her forever due to his own idiocy!
He turned abruptly, shocked to find Iris stood mere inches behind him, her hand reached out as though to comfort him.
Catching her outstretched hand, in order to stop her retreating, he continued, "I could never have had anything meaningful with her, no legitimate issue, not an acceptable marriage, and not love, either," he said, "not only because we were not ultimately suited to one another, either by personality, nor in the eyes of society, but because my eyes had been opened to another who fits all of the above, and who also has stirred such ardent feelings in me, that I could ignore her no longer," he whispered, threading her fingers with his and giving her a tug towards him.
As she passed another beam of moonlight in the windows, the tears on her face illuminated, and he reached his free hand to wipe them from her beautiful face. Cupping her cheek, he stared at her, "Iris, I hadn't acted sooner, for I wasn't sure of my feelings for you, I had also fancied that mine might have been unrequited, and it has taken almost losing you for me to realise the depth of my feelings for you."
Iris sucked in a breath as she gently placed her free hand along his chest, his heart thudding below her delicate fingertips.
"Tell me you will forgive me," he pleaded, closing the gap between them, their arms now entangled. Iris's voice so quiet in their solitude, whispered between them, "I will always forgive you Anthony, but I am frightened, for you own my heart and I need to trust you will care for it with due diligence," she half-sobbed, half despair and half joy, at finally hearing what she needed to, but worry from how the last two days had left her feeling.
Anthony tipped her face up and gently kissed the tears from her cheeks, "I will carry it with me always," he vowed of her heart, in between soft fluttering kisses to her cheeks, "as you will carry mine."
He closed the gap so their faces were a hairsbreadth apart, their breaths intermingled in the chill of the night. Iris's eyes fluttered closed as she anticipated his kiss, but it did not come.
As she slowly opened her hazel eyes in confusion, they locked on his brown eyes and he breathed his next words to her so softly, she almost missed them; "Iris, will you marry me?"
Iris's eyes widened, and she sucked in a large breath before bursting into tears. Anthony clutched her to his chest, whispering soothing sounds to her, before he could make out what she was saying in between sobs "...yes...yes...a thousand times yes..." she cried.
Anthony let her lean back, before he captured her in a searing kiss. His heart swelled as she clutched at his waistcoat front, pulling herself closer to him. He lifted her, twirling her around twice, before he gently sat back on the bench, moving Iris to sit beside him, as he kissed her again, and again, her laugh bubbling out from her tears of happiness searing itself into his heart.
Iris had gone numb, first feeling the agony and torment and worry of rejection, followed by disbelief, then full white hot desire as they kissed and her heart swelling with love, she couldn't think straight any longer.
"Anthony?," she breathed, hands about his neck as she stared at him intently, "yes Iris?" he questioned, running his fingers through her golden locks as they softly curled under the moonlight, "we should not say anything just yet, Daphne needs to marry the Duke and we can announce our engagement then," she offered.
Sobering slightly, Anthony nodded, "that sounds amenable, but I wish for us to be wed as soon as possible, Iris," he said, "I almost lost you once, and I will not leave any opportunity to do so again."
His response made her happy and she nodded once, in agreement. Anthony kissed her hand as they chatted quietly a little longer before deciding to return to the house, lest they were discovered.
"You are truly beautiful to me, Iris, and I could not be happier you have agreed to become my Viscountess," he murmured at her door.
Iris placed a hand over her mouth to silence the breathy laugh threatening to escape, and dipped a curtsey to Lord Bridgerton at her door. She was halted in her descent by two strong hands gripping her wrists, and pulling her back to standing. Anthony dipped his head and kissed her again, deeply and she sighed into the kiss, eyes sliding shut at the sensation.
"Our little secret, but only for now, Miss Edgehill," Anthony smiled. Iris nodded once and slipped into her room. She had no idea how she was going to sleep now, but she undressed and slipped on her nightdress, before crawling into her bed.