A/N: Okay, so that was Chapter 1! On with the story! As ever, Lady Whistledown's sass is noted in italics, I don't own the recognisable characters etc. Etc.

Enjoy!

It has been said that "Of all bitches dead or alive, a scribbling woman is the most canine."

If that should be true, then this author would like to show you her teeth.

My name is Lady Whistledown. You do not know me, and rest assured, you never shall.

But be forewarned, dear reader, I certainly know you.

The young ladies had all retired to Daphne's room to undress from their formal wear and spend the rest of the day relaxing and recovering from the ordeal before the evening's ball. Daphne was still ecstatic and unbelieving that her presentation had gone so well, whereas Iris was just glad it was over.

Iris had changed into a soft lilac dress, the scandal rag clutched in her hands, having read it, mouth agape in a manner most unladylike, before handing it off to a squealing Eloise. Hyacinth was helping Daphne change into a powder blue dress, while Eloise and Frances poured over the gossip listed in the latest edition of Lady Whistledown's review of the day.

"You certainly sparkled, sister," cooed Hyacinth, no doubt dreaming of her own debut. Iris smiled and stood, offering a little wave to the ladies as she vacated the room, not wanting to go into the sad story Lady Whistledown had remarked of her.

She found Anthony at the bottom of the staircase, who smiled and offered her a small bow, which she reciprocated with a curtsey, before he offered her an arm. "Where to, Miss Edgehill?" he asked in a Lordly fashion, which caused Iris to laugh softly. "I thought to sit in the garden a while, I need to be around the familiar and the calming, Lord Bridgerton," she offered. Anthony nodded, grabbing her soft grey shawl that she had left on the bench near the parlour, before draping it around her shoulders and taking her hand and tucking it into the crook of her elbow and leading her out to the Bridgerton gardens.

"It sounds very much alive upstairs," he remarked as he led her to the willow tree at the rear edge of the grounds. Iris nodded once. "Daphne did so well, she should enjoy the praise a little longer before needing to be the Lady present at Lady Danbury's ball this evening." Anthony turned her towards a patch of lavender in full bloom, the scent causing her to close her eyes and breathe in deeply. He could feel her relaxing immediately.

"Iris, are you well?" he asked her seriously. Iris turned to look at him, her hazel gaze quizzical. Anthony cleared his throat before tentatively speaking again. "You appear most distracted following our return home, has something happened?" he asked. Iris sighed and shook her head. "It is nothing, Anthony, I am well," she began, enjoying that he had always insisted on her calling him Anthony in private, since he had inherited the Lordship. "But I thank you for asking." She squeezed his elbow in thanks, and he patted her hand in response. He decided then he would also be keeping an eye on her this evening, although he could guarantee his brother Benedict would do the job admirably.

Iris opened her mouth to speak when a window opened above them and Eloise's voice carried out clearly, "Iris, your dresses are here, come for us to see!" before the window slammed shut with a chastising "Eloise!"

Iris laughed before turning to Anthony, "Thank you for the distraction from my thoughts, my Lord Bridgerton," she curtseyed again before leaving Anthony stood in the garden behind her and returning to the house. Shaking his head to clear his thought, Lord Anthony Bridgerton decided that je required a more satisfactory method of distraction and called for his horse.

Arriving in her room, Lady Bridgerton offered her the box from The Modiste, which she opened and reverently gazed upon her new gown for the ball.

"This one is quite ravishing," Daphne's voice echoed from her own room. Iris smiled as she remembered the understated, gorgeous gown Daphne chose for the ball. Lady Bridgerton discussed the success of Mary Edgecombe from the season before who had matched with an Earl, no less, but who now spent her time at a cottage in the country while he gambled at clubs and attended the theatre without her in the ton.

Eloise interjected with the latest information from Lady Whistledown and Iris cringed. She decided not to enter the room for this, when a knock at her door startled her. Opening the door she saw it was Benedict. She smiled warmly at him and held up her dress.

"A beautiful gown indeed, Iris, but be warned! I am a stern and fearsome chaperone and will guard your virtue and your honour stoutly!" he claimed, standing straight and proud. Iris smiled warmly at him, her sour feeling at Lady Whistledown fading at the genuine kindness her friend offered. She moved to return the dress to her wardrobe, when Lady Bridgerton gasped dramatically. Benedict turned to the corridor to listen to Lady Whistledowns latest;

"She has called Iris the last wallflower, advising she either had yet to bloom for the right suitor, or had bloomed in earnest while hidden away in a secret garden and missed her chance to match!" Lady Bridgerton read aloud in outrage.

Daphne could be heard denying the information immediately, and Iris stood at her wardrobe breathing quietly and hoping to halt any tears she could feel brewing from falling. Benedict approached her and gently held her close to him as she gave in to the tears. He had been careful to leave the door open to protect her honour, but could tell she needed the comfort immediately. Rose, Daphne's maid stood in the doorway to chaperone as she had intruded on the moment and empathised.

Benedict stood back and offered her a handkerchief, smiling softly. "There, there, Iris. No need to fret. It will work out in the end." He consoled her. Iris smiled gratefully as she took the handkerchief and daubed at her eyes. "Thank you, Benedict. I've no idea where I would be without you," she exclaimed.

Benedict laughed, before offering her his arm to go down for tea, "with less patience for such an obstinate student of art, I'll imagine." His eyes crinkled as he laughed and Iris could only agree, to his chargrin. Benedict wished to be an artist but hadn't quite decided on a form, whether sketching, painting or sculpting yet. Iris had advised that sketching should be curated the most as it was a way to form a thought before developing it further by whichever means he would like. They spent hours on a Saturday each week comparing sketches and critiquing each others work.

The season's opening ball at Danbury House is a most sought-after invitation, indeed, for every darling debutante from Park Lane to Regent Street will be on display. Titled, chaste, and innocent, this is what they have been raised and trained for since birth. Tonight we shall discover which young ladies might succeed at securing a match, thereby avoiding the dreadful, dismal condition known as "the spinster."

Benedict and Anthony helped the three ladies from the carriage, to the table to collect their dance cards and into the ballroom, where the finery and sparkling of jewellery, candlelight and bright smiles of the debutantes lit the room. The atmosphere was jolly, the music lively and Iris took a deep breath to steady herself before latching onto Benedicts arm.

"I promise, Ben, that I will protect you from the harpies, if you only return the favour and keep the vultures away from me," Iris hissed at Benedict as she felt all eyes on her party the moment they entered. She and Benedict stood beside Anthony, who gently pressed Iris forward, with a soft "Enjoy the spotlight, Iris," before surveying the eyes upon them haughtily, his mask of the Lord Bridgerton firmly in place. Benedict, feeling her nerves, whisked her off to the dance floor immediately, where Colin could be seen dancing with a young lady and began to turn her about the floor. Benedict had promised her he would not allow her to spend the evening as a wallflower, and that though he hadn't needed the encouragement, Anthony had also wanted to make sure she was shown off as much as Daphne.

Iris watched from over Benedict's shoulder, while they danced, as many young men worked up the courage to approach Lord Bridgerton and Daphne. Lord Ambrose had been the first and was in their company mere moments before turning and slipping away in embarrassment. Benedict enjoyed narrating the confrontations and decisions Anthony had made regarding Daphne, the young men of the ton he had studied from parentage to wealth.

Iris gladly exhaled, glad to not have been labelled the 'Diamond of the first water' that Lady Whistledown had proclaimed, and was happy to avoid the accompanying pressure. Following her two sets with Benedict, he grabbed her a drink and they made their way to where Colin and Anthony stood with Daphne, Iris hearing Colin's excitable declaration that he would be travelling. "I am to begin in Greece!"

"Greece!" exclaimed Daphne as Iris sipped her drink thoughtfully, "how adventurous, Colin."

Benedict leaned forward to prod Colin "On guard!" he called, subtly gesturing behind them before offering Iris his arm in a bid to escape the domineering presence of the hostess.

"Too late," she sneered, almost good naturedly, "I have already noted you."

The party offered bows and curtseys a smattering of "Lady Danbury", and "Good Evening," spread about the group. The Lady in question, ignored the men, leaning on her cane, she addressed the women kindly.

"Miss Edgehill, Miss Bridgerton, you both look rather lovely this evening. Is there a reason I've yet to see Miss Bridgerton on the dancefloor?"

Iris locked eyes with Daphne and gestured. Oh Daphne, dearest, she's all yours.

It was Anthony, however, who had saved his sister from answering, by leaning forward and clearing his throat softly. "All in good time, Lady Danbury," he offered from near Iris' cheek where he had leaned forward to. Iris flushed at his nearest and demurely turned her face away from his.

Lady Danbury merely nodded dismissively, pushing through the party to depart and tossing a "you poor thing," over her shoulder as she went.

Iris was drawn from her thoughts by Colin who had whispered "Who is that?" to Benedict. She turned to follow where he was staring and found the young lady in question. Beautiful dark curls and a soft open face, made her almost angelic looking.

"I am sure I've never seen her," Benedict remarked before offering another dance to Iris. Shaking her head, she smiled and pushed Benedict towards the other young ladies looking forlornly at the dancefloor and smiled, offering a little wave of her fingers as he went, scowling.

Daphne had by this point, had enough of her brother hovering and declared demurely "I am quite parched."

Anthony turned and offered to fetch her a glass of lemonade. Daphne shook her head, patted her brother on the arm and left him with Iris, eager to slip away. Anthony turned to her and offered to take a turn about the room. Slipping her arm into his she agreed.

"So Miss Edgehill, how are you finding this evenings festivities?" he asked her pleasantly.

"Lady Danbury's ball is always the highlight of the season, to be sure," she responded conspirationally. "I must say I am rather impressed how Lady Bridgerton has forgotten all about you, in favour of matching Daphne with someone," Iris commented, turning to survey the room. Anthony scoffed and shook his head, his free hand fingering his beloved pocketwatch "Not hardly," he grouched, "as Lord Bridgerton, the decision of whom and when I shall marry shall be mine alone."

Iris nodded solemnly, it would never be me anyway. I cannot sing like the soprano and have been around too long to be considered anything else than a ward or sibling. Iris turned, eyes wide to see Daphne fleeing Lord Berbrooke, on a path to collide with a gentleman. "Oh no!" she cried, turning Anthony to continue their walk in Daphne's direction.