Iris had spent the better part of two days, either promenading or with Hyacinth and Gregory in the gardens, all in the name of avoiding Lord Berbrooke, whose visits were nothing short of dogged. He had decided on Daphne and nothing else would do. Biting her lip, Iris reached forward and corrected Gregory's hold on his paintbrush and smoothed the hair from his face fondly. The Vauxhall ball was that evening and Iris was dreading it. Benedict had begged off to go out with some of his university friends, and Anthony had been holed up in his study all that morning, denying entry, even to the Lady Bridgerton.
There had been an argument between Anthony and his mother the evening before, and Iris had caught some of it, while sneaking back into the house from her late-night forays into the gardens. The Bridgerton family had a small glass pavilion in the garden, in a secluded corner, out of sight of the streets, and private from the house, and Iris adored the space, and often took solace there with a book, in the middle of the night when she could not sleep, which recently, had been a lot. Iris had stood frozen, tucked half in an alcove upon hearing her name being called by Lady Bridgerton, with some suggestion of marriage, and she had stopped, dead in her tracks, heart hammering in her chest like a military drum.
"- you can't possibly mean to deny Iris any matches!" the angered voice of Lady Bridgerton fired through the air.
" I do not intend to foist someone upon her, whom she does not wish to consider, mother," Anthony's voice responded calmly. He seemed to take a breath, before continuing, "It is not my place to make a match for her." Lady Bridgerton argued against this, and Iris squeezed herself further into the alcove, trying to make herself small enough that she might vanish, rather than being sent away from Bridgerton House, her home. Anthony scolded his mother, advising the Iris paid keep and was welcome here as long as she wanted to, and that his duty, as Lady Bridgerton oft chastised him for ignoring, was to find his sister a suitable match.
Lady Bridgerton had stormed from the study and up the stairs, bypassing Iris' hiding place, before disappearing to the landing above, and the solace of her room. Breathing softly, Iris moved from her spot and approached the open door of the study. Quietly, she peered into the room, heart sinking sadly at the sight of Anthony's furrowed brow, and the angry tick in his cheek as his jaw ckenched and unclenched.
"Oh, Anthony," Iris breathed, before she moved into the room. Anthony raised his head, and shot up from his seat at seeing the intruder enter his study. "Iris!" he admonished, "why are you up so late?" he enquired softly. Iris wrapped her dressing robe tighter around her body, eyeing Anthony's flushed neck and wide eyes. "I could not sleep," she began, looking at the ground, "so I-"
Anthony's chuckle cut her off. "So you have been in the pavilion, then," he smiled at her cheekily as she stood frozen, unaware he had known of her midnight forays into the garden all along. "You...you are aware of my visits to the pavilion?" she asked, confusedly. Anthony smiled at her fondly and nodded once, "Often times I have remained to ensure you have returned to the safety of the house, before I leave for my apartments of an evening," he explained, coming around to stand in front of her. Iris heart stuttered as she took him in. He had always been tall and broad shouldered, he was an imposing figure, she mused, but he had always had eyes that showed his emotions, hard as steel when angry, soft as fresh muslin when affectionate, and Iris loved him for it. Anthony took her hand gently, "Iris, I know what it is to feel overwhelmed and if the pavilion is where you flee to for solace, who am I to deny you that?" he offered, squeezing her palm gently. Iris exhaled slowly, hoping he couldn't feel her pulse thrumming at his touch.
"I know how overwhelmed you must feel too, Anthony," she commented, looking at him through her lashes, her hazel eyes intent. He focussed on how she looked in the candlelight, a warm glow to her skin, her cheeks the faintest hint of rose among the cream softness of her delicate face. Her hair was long, and he hadn't realised how long, until he saw the soft tresses draped along her shoulders, past her breasts and stopping just shy of her elbows. She is truly beautiful, he mused, thinking back to his friend's comment of her being a ready-made wife, and although he had decided against marriage for now, he had to concede to his friend that he may be right. Iris was quiet and docile, accomplished and fair, beautiful and wise, she offered comfort and would run an exceptional household, to be sure. He mused upon whether she would even consider any matches he proposed for her.
"It would all depend on the gentleman you had in mind," she offered, removing her hand and folding her fingers together at her waist. Anthony shook his head, having not realised he had murmured his last musing aloud. "You must consider someone, Iris. We do not wish you to be alone," Anthony declared. He offered her the chaise along the back wall of his study, while he took one of the seats in front of his desk.
Iris shook her head, "I would consider someone," she began carefully, fidgeting uncomfortably, "but I do not think they would consider me." Iris was saddened by this, he noted. Glancing at his pocket watch, Anthony noted the time and stood. Iris stood with him. "Come," he said warmly, offering her his arm, "It is time to retire, we have an important engagement this evening, it would not do to fall asleep mid-dance." Iris allowed him to escort her to her room, mind buzzing with thoughts, following her encounter with him.
That morning, Iris had dragged Gregory outdoors to paint, rather than sketch, and Iris was proud of the progress he had made so far. Gregory was attentive to his surroundings and would likely begin moving onto people soon. He accepted his praise with a quiet delight, and Iris fondly ruffled the dark hair on his head.
"My, what a lovely picture this makes," called a voice from nearby. Iris whipped her head around, her long golden curls swinging with the movement as she locked eyes with Lord Berbrooke. Iris stood and brushed off the skirts of her pink dress, while Gregory stood to attention.
"Lord Berbrooke," Iris greeted warily, she reached out to take Gregory's hand, but, almost as though sensing her discomfort, the young boy had stepped in front of her and offered a perfect bow to greet the Lord himself.
"What charming manners you have instilled in him, Miss Edgehill," Lord Berbrooke sneered, stepping closer. Iris fought off a scowl, before gesturing to Gregory to collect his paints and easel. "I have instilled no manners in young Gregory, Lord Berbrooke, he is as polite and good natured as all Bridgerton gentlemen are," she declared, eyes glancing at the windows of the building. She was uncomfortable around him as she felt he read far too much in conversations with ladies and presumed much with regards to Daphne.
"I wondered whether you might take a turn with me around the garden, Miss Edgehill?"
Iris stood straighter, as Gregory returned to her side, Gregory reached out to offer her his arm and gestured the rear of the property with his head. Smiling gratefully, Iris bobbed a curtsey to Lord Berbrooke and smiled demurely.
"I must beg your forgiveness, Lord Berbrooke, but I am already engaged at present. I believe Lady and Miss Bridgerton are in the main parlour, should that have been the reason for your visit." She offered. Lord Berbrooke shook his head, "actually it is Lord Bridgerton I have an appointment with, but I shall seek him out. Thank you for your conversation Miss Edgehill." He turned to make his way towards the front of the property, snidely adding, "A fine Governess you shall make!" over his shoulder.
Iris narrowed her eyes dangerously at the man, who straightened at the challenge in her face. "You forget yourself, Lord Berbrooke," she admonished coldly, "I am no governess, I am the daughter of a Lord, and if it please me, I shall be the wife of a Lord," she took a breath re-taking Gregory's arm and fixed her glare on the older man. "You would do well to remember whose confidences I hold and whose opinions I could sway," she sniped at him, before moving away. Her heart thumped with rage, her cheeks flushed with anger, and her eyes filled with frustrated tears as she retreated.
Iris was hurt by the comment, dragging in a shaky breath and willing the tears away, she and Gregory set up in the pavilion to continue their session. Gregory stood at Iris's side, concern awash on his young face. Iris smiled for him, but it was weak, and she gestured for him to continue his art.
"Never you mind about him, dearest," she placated, gesturing at his easel, "come now and show me what you have learned today."
Hyacinth soon joined them, along with Benedict, who jovially sat beside Gregory to inspect his work. "You have a keen eye, brother, and you do well under Iris's tutelage," Benedict remarked, noting Iris's flushed face and irregular breathing. Patting his brother on the shoulder, he gestured to Hyacinth to move so he could sit beside Iris, and took her hands in his.
"Iris, you are as dear to me as a sister, and so I can see when something is amiss. What is the matter?" he asked, concern lacing his entire demeanour. Iris shook her head and took her hands away. "It is nothing, Ben. I am merely nervous for this evening," she smiled at him to reassure him, before a teasing glint came to her eye, "especially since you are abandoning me, to be left as a wallflower again," she turned to face Gregory and caught a mischievous grin on his face. She winked as he returned to his painting. Hyacinth cocked her head, a confused look on her face, "But Anthony is escorting Daphne and Mama, and Colin can escort you!"
Iris smiled and nodded, "there!" she exclaimed, "there are still gentlemen to be found in the Bridgerton family, I see!" Iris laughed heartily, the sound like the tinkling of a chime in a merry breeze as they whiled away the afternoon, her confrontation with Lord Berbrooke becoming a forgotten moment soon enough.