A/N: Okay, so ever since I watched it, I have been desperate to write a Bridgerton Fanfic and so here we are. Anyone you recognise does not belong to me, but Iris Edgehill is all mine! For reference, quotes are taken directly from the script and anything written by Lady Whistledown will be noted in italics.
Thanks!
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Bridgerton House was a large redbrick property proudly jutting out onto Grosvenor Square. A beautiful facade, draped in greenery and blooming flowers, showcasing the fertility of the Dowager Viscountess Lady Bridgerton, whose party of 4 strapping young gentlemen and 4 young ladies were sure to be the focal point of all conversations at the ton.
The upcoming season had the mamas and daughters of all the ton aflutter to make sure sensible, and suitable matches were had for the futures of their families. Lady Bridgerton, however, had another young lady to be worrying about too. Miss Iris Edgehill, a ward of the Bridgerton family for some years now. Firstly to be around girls her own age (although she was three years senior to the eldest Bridgerton daughter), and then two years ago due to the loss of her mother in the birthing bed , losing both her mother and newborn brother, and her father was unable to look her in the face. She had delayed her coming out for a year, for one should never be presented to the Queen whilst in mourning Sable. The following year, her father followed and so she delayed again. The only consolation following this was that her debut would be alongside her dear friend Daphne, who had delayed her own debut by a year following the loss of Lord Bridgerton.
Iris Edgehill would be a tempting debut, to be sure, a sizeable dowry, thanks to her mothers fortune and her father leaving her a gracious annuity until the day she married, which she had been saving, modestly. Part of this was donated to the Bridgerton household as part of her keep and Lord Bridgerton had been granted the power to assist her in sorting a match, but Iris was content to remain unattached.
Over the 5 or so years she had spent with the family, Iris had gotten to know all the Bridgerton siblings quite well, and enjoyed their company immensely, especially how busy they were. That particular morning, they were off to the Modiste in order to order new dresses for their debut and the following ball to begin their season. Eloise, as usual was complaining, although Lady Bridgerton had allowed her to delay a year before her own coming out.
Iris entered the shop, arm-in-arm with Daphne, her bright, hazel eyes looking at the different pops of colour dotted around the room, roving over the different fabrics on the shelves and draping to the floor. Her fair hair was elegantly knotted at the crown of her head, allowing small tendrils to fall about her face. Quite different to the auburn haired Daphne with her two short, but charming curls sat sweetly on her forehead.
Iris let go of Daphne's arm as she wandered the Modiste, a boutique store owned by Miss Genevieve Delacroix, the rapidly speaking French accented seamstress cooing over the softness of Daphne's complexion became a soothing buzz at the back of her mind.
"What do you think of adding colour to the debut gown, Iris?" Daphne asked, pulling Iris' attention from a soft but glittering fabric in a gentle shade of champagne. Tilting her head and admiring the soft ivory gown Daphne had tried on she smiled.
"I should think that a bit of gold embroidery wouldn't go amiss, especially at the empire line and top of the gown, what do you think, Lady Bridgerton?" Iris asked turning to the matriarch. Lady Bridgerton merely smiled and nodded, gesturing for some paper and a charcoal to offer Iris so that she may design the pattern. Iris was a talented artist, a skill that had been nurtured ever since she had been a young girl, her talent easily spotted, by none other than the Lady Danbury and Iris had thrown all her passion and patience into honing this skill. She had even painted the portraits of the Bridgerton children as a gift for the Viscount and his wife, for taking her in as a ward.
Iris gently sketched some laurel leaves along the flow of the top of the gown and presented the picture to Miss Delacroix, who took it with a raised eyebrow before nodding once and vanishing into the rear of the dressing room to put the drawing safe. Iris wandered back over to the champagne coloured fabric and held a piece between her fingers, humming thoughtfully.
"Oh Iris, that colour would be so beautiful on you," called Lady Bridgerton, smiling fondly. Iris smiled, turning her eyes downward, demurely and biting her lip, before steeling herself and gesturing to Madame Delacroix that she had chosen her own fabric.
Iris' debut gown was fairly ordinary. The colour of freshly fallen snow, but had a soft, thick, peach coloured sash around the empire line, and a peach tulip design sewn into the hem. She had been happy overall with her garment and merely wished for the debacle to be over.
She had joked with Benedict, one of her closest friends within the siblings that she merely wished to get the debut over so she could continue hiding from society in the garden, with her easel and practising her painting. Benedict had laughed at her and told her he hadn't believed for one second that an Iris was a wallflower and that he would keep her company during the balls as Anthony was doing for Daphne.
And so, the following week found the upstairs bedrooms a cacophony of jewels, gloves and tulle, of maids running hither and thither, of Eloise and Frances and Hyacinth aggravating one another and of Benedict and Colin sitting in the drawing room tapping their feet impatiently while Lady Bridgerton oversaw Daphne and Iris getting ready.
Iris, who was ready first , descended the staircase, where Benedict promptly arrived and offered her his hand. She took it elegantly, her arm gloved to the elbow in pure white, and one of the Edgehill jewels her father had bequeathed her before a distant relation took up the mantle of Viscount sat gently at her throat, while a delicate tiara sat upon the crown of her head, her curls hanging prettily from her head. Iris smiled at Benedict as she reached the floor safely, the soft train of her frock hissing as it kissed the ground.
Glancing around her, she noted the absence of Anthony and sighed quietly, the house was a frenzy of activity but she was sure that Anthony's absence would not go unnoticed. Eloise skipped past her pulling Hyacinth as Colin and Benedict huffed on how they would be late.
"Is our dear sister still not ready?" exclaimed Benedict, turning as though to ascend the stairs to fetch her. Frances smiled, wide-eyed with excitement as she exclaimed "she's only been readying herself the entire night!"
"You mean her entire life!" corrected Eloise, smiling as she slid onto the bench next to Iris. Colin rolled his eyes at the spectacle before nodding to himself, "I shall run upstairs and hasten her along," he offered, already moving. Iris and Eloise stood to help diffuse the spat that was surely brewing between the brothers as Benedict moved with Colin.
"Colin, wait. I'll do it," Benedict reprimanded only to stare shocked as Colin retorted with "she likes me much better than you, Benedict."
Stopping short, a hurt look on his face, Benedict asked "did she say that?" Colin, now smug replied in the affirmative, "everyone says that."
Taking Benedict's arm gently, she smiled fondly at him and turned to Colin, narrowing her gaze playfully "I am sure nobody has ever heard me say that," she cajoled, as Benedict smiled brightly and gave her hand a gentle pat. Eloise groaned and shouldered her way through the trio, her shoulders bunched in a no-nonsense fashion, Iris and Frances sighed, resigned as Eloise breathed in deeply and screeched for her sister.
"DAPHNE! YOU MUST! MAKE! HASTE!"
The bustling of the hall stopped dead, as all turned to look at Eloise in shock.
Iris, spotting the resigned but unsurprised look on Benedict's face had to raise a gloved hand to her face to stifle the giggles she knew were struggling to break through her calm, composed demeanour. That attempt failed miserable, when a smug Eloise twirled to face them and softly ask "should you think she heard me?"
Iris felt her composure break then, as giggles burst out of her. Benedicts deep laugh beside her, thankfully showed she was not the only one enjoying the situation. Seeing Lady Bridgerton lean over the bannister from upstairs made it worse, and Iris sucked in slow, deep breaths to calm herself. "Iris, dearest, would you get everyone situated in the carriages ready to depart please?"
Iris nodded and turned to Hyacinth and Gregory, gently shepherding them out, grateful when she heard Benedict and Colin escorting Eloise out to the front door behind her. Looking up into the sunlight, she watched as the youngest Bridgerton siblings approached their carriage, shoving each other, and she turned to catch her train before seeing Eloise lofting it gently. "Thank you," she praised softly, seeing the pride in the young girl's face. Iris moved to climb into the carriage before Benedict reached past to open the door and offer her a hand up into the carriage itself. "My knight in shining armour, you are Ben," she smiled, squeezing his hand in thanks. "What are we Bridgerton gentlemen for?" he quipped playfully, before herding Eloise into the second carriage and returning to her window to converse while they awaited Daphne and their mother. Soon enough, Daphne emerged with her mother, a vision in ivory, a soft train behind her, held up by her maid Rose as she approached the carriage, her chest heaving and her eyes glittering with excitement.
Benedict hopped up onto his horse to escort the carriages as Lady Bridgerton approached and Iris could hear the weariness in Lady Bridgerton's voice as she asked Benedict where Lord Bridgerton, her eldest son Anthony was. Benedict must have gestured non verbally as Lady Bridgerton sighed before adding "Should your brother wish to be obeyed as Lord Bridgerton, then he must act as Lord Bridgerton."
The matriarch then gracefully climbed into the carriage and fussed the two debutantes for the whole journey. As the distance between them and St James' palace decreased, Iris felt the nerves increase. She had delayed her debut for three years and would easily be the eldest debutante there. She worried what this meant for her prospects – not on the marriage front truly, but people talked and scandal rags were sure to pick up on this and she couldn't cause a scandal to attach to the Bridgerton household, not after all they had done for her.
Iris and Daphne dismounted from the carriage and were led to an ante room before being presented to Her Majesty Queen Charlotte. They were both offered messages of good luck from the brothers, and Iris was aided from the carriage by none other than Anthony Bridgerton, who had arrived mere moment before them. "Iris," he smiled softly at her as her cheeks flamed. She offered a curtsey to him and he raised her chin with his hand, "you look beautiful," he offered with a twitch of his lips.
It is all for you! Iris wished she could say, before stepping aside so he could help his sister and mother from the carriage. Her affection for the Bridgerton family paled to how her feelings for the eldest son had developed over the years. He had been her stoic companion, more serious than Benedict, he sheltered her secrets, and she his, having told no living souls of his frequent visits to the soprano of the theatre, and his open glances and soft touches as he guided her here or there, or helping her with her shawl while enjoying a promenade only made the matter worse, for she knew he would never see her as more than a burden, another sister perhaps.
"Anthony!" exclaimed Daphne as he helped her from the carriage. "You are here!"
"Of course I am here, sister," he responded smartly "I would never miss such an important day for you and our family." He turned and shot a secret wink at Iris before adding "and an important day for Miss Edgehill too."
The moment was ruined by Lady Bridgerton who collected the fans for the ladies and snidely added "no, you would just be late for it." Daphne took a steadying breath, hooking one arm with her mother and the other with Anthony, while Iris held back behind them and linked arms with Benedict. "Please don't let me fall, Ben," she pleased softly. "I wouldn't dream of it, Miss Edgehill," he replied formally, before leading her into the crowd.
The room was full of mamas and nervous debutantes, adding last minute feathers to their hair and making sure the dresses were neat and un-creased. Mothers judged the daughters of other families, hushed whispers and praises and words of encouragement passed alongside murmurs of did you see her dress? I had heard she shouldn't be presented, and she finally made it after delaying so many times.
Iris had to take a breath as she tried to ignore the whispers. She stood up, tall and straight, the perfectly white feather now expertly attached to her hair as she turned to smile at Daphne. "Dearest, fear not," she encouraged the younger woman, "we have practiced this whole arrangement and you will be fine. Your mother and I will be beside you and your family will be there supporting you too!" Iris clasped hands with Daphne as she took a steadying breath. "Do not count yourself out of the game too quickly, Iris," Lady Bridgerton scolded gently. Iris smiled sheepishly and stood beside Daphne in the queue ready for their turned. The doors opened at the head of the column regularly, the names and stations of the daughters and presenters called loudly each time.
Finally it was their turn. Iris steeled herself and breathed slowly, she did not want to end up like Prudence Featherington and faint at the Queens feet.
"Miss Daphne Bridgerton and Miss Iris Edgehill, presented by the Right Honourable, the Dowager Viscountess Lady Bridgerton."
Daphne and Iris slowly approached Her Majesty, noting the plump man behind the Queen whispering in Her Majesty's ear as they neared. Upon reaching the end of the hall, both ladies dipped into and held their curtseys, eyes downcast. Iris could feel Benedicts worry for her from across the room and counted the seconds. She heard the Queen stand and approach. A gloved hand lifter chin, before she made eye contact with the indomitable Queen Charlotte.
"Better late, than never, my dear." The Queen quirked a smile, her phenomenal hairstyle catching the light at every angle. Iris merely dipped lower in thanks and awaited judgement of Daphne. Iris could feel Daphne's nerves and prayed. She was not disappointed as Her Majesty crooned "Flawless, my dear."
Gratefully, both ladies stood and backed towards Lady Bridgerton before curtseying again. "Did that truly just happen?" Daphne asked breathlessly. Lady Bridgerton smiled, offering assurances "keep smiling dearest, and you Iris. They are watching you both. Now more than ever."
Dearest Reader,
The time has come to place our bets for the upcoming social season.
Consider the household of the Baron Featherington. Three misses foisted upon the marriage market like sorrowful sows by their tasteless, tactless Mama.
Far better odds might exist in the household of the widowed Viscountess Bridgerton, a shockingly prolific family, noted for its bounty of perfectly handsome sons and perfectly beautiful daughters, and have even plucked a ward from a pretty garden to present.
How very perfect indeed.
Today is a most important day, and for some a terrifying one, for today is the day London's marriage-minded misses are presented to Her Majesty the Queen. May God have mercy on their souls.
It is only the Queen eye that matters today. A glimmer of displeasure and a young lady's value plummets to unthinkable depths.
But, as we know, the brighter a lady shines, the faster she may burn.