A/N: I'm baaaaack! I thoroughly enjoyed writing this one! 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).
Let it be known, dear reader, that if this bizarre behaviour portends to yet another scandal, then be sure that I shall uncover it, for there is nothing like an excursion into nature to lift the spirits and loosen the tongue.
The day of the grand picnic had arrived. The picnic itself had been prepared. Iris wore a dusky rose gown and had her hair braided elaborately, with a few curls loose to frame her face, while white netted gloves adorned her hands, to the wrists. She carried a parasol with her, to protect her fair skin from burning on the walk, and she laughed merrily at whatever nonsense Benedict spouted to entertain her.
Anthony escorted his mother, as Hyacinth and Gregory skipped and ran around them, leading the way to the designated covering they would be using on the green.
His mouth remained set and firm as he listened to the cheery conversations around him, his eyes glued to his ward.
Perhaps it is Benedict he wondered, they have always been close, closer than all the others...clearing his throat, he shook his head and turned to converse with the Lady Bridgerton while they made their way.
Daphne walked with Eloise, pleasant and polite conversation flowing, with Daphne glancing secretively at the groups of gentlemen setting up games and awaiting the arrival of the Duke.
Iris sat with Benedict on a soft cotton blanket that had been placed on the ground, spreading her skirts around her comfortably. "I would beware your mother today, Ben," she teased, eyes alight with humour. Benedict plopped down beside her, a kind smile on his handsome face, "oh really, and why is that?" he queried, helping the footman place one of the many baskets of food down beside their covering.
"Oh, now that she has settled upon Daphne matching well with His Grace, and with Anthony having control over his own matches," Iris began, taking Hyacinths's hand and having the youngest Bridgerton sit beside her, giggling merrily, "I should imagine that it will be Colin and yourself she will focus on next," she finished with a grin that was bordering on cheeky, her face full of joy as Benedict's mouth fell open in disbelief.
"You must be jesting, Iris," Benedict almost begged. Iris delicately covered her mouth as she stifled a laugh and shook her head, mischief gleaming in her hazel eyes.
Benedict glanced at his mother, who had gracefully deposited herself into a seat, with Anthony ordering her tea from the staff who had accompanied them.
Benedict turned back to Iris and took her hand, "Have you told him how you feel yet?" he whispered quietly to her. Iris immediately stopped laughing and turned to look at him, eyes serious and breathing rapid.
"I-I am not sure what you mean," she stammered, a rosy hint colouring her cheeks. Benedict smiled roguishly at her and cocked his head at her, "Come Iris, you are my best friend, did you think I wouldn't know?" he smiled, glancing back at his mother and elder brother, before scooting closer to her, "I think we might be able to confirm Anthony's feelings for you, if you are willing?" he smirked as Iris shook her head, "No, Ben. That would be cruel, and I will play no games," she said, her expression falling into one of sadness, "although I must confess, you are correct in your assumptions that my feelings for Anthony are more than I allow others to see," she explained, "I will not trap or trick any gentleman into finding feelings for me that they do not have," Iris vowed, her gaze stern and focussed on her best friend.
Iris fondly watched as Anthony and Colin began throwing a wooden hoop between them, Hyacinth and Gregory, entertaining the otherwise bored younger Bridgerton siblings.
Benedict, thoroughly chastised, merely nodded in agreement. "Very well," he acquiesced, "then you must help me Iris, for I am so very lost, I know not what it is I want to do," he said, seriously. Iris frowned, not liking the expression on the usually joyful, mischievous second-born Bridgerton. She smiled warmly at him, scrunching her nose at him playfully, before offering "perhaps the Clergy? I do not much see such a talented artist joining the military," she nudged him.
Feigning horror, Benedict rose from his seat to bring her a cup of tea where she lounged, some cushions scattered about her. "You mock me!" he feigned insult before seating himself beside her again, ignoring Anthony's curious looks their way. Iris halted her retort, as Daphne looked over at her as Miss Cowper and her companion strolled by, their gossiping loud enough for the party to hear her snide comment of "I hear she may be courting with bumbling Berbrooke! Quite a good match for her, I rather think!"
Iris stood, anger colouring her cheeks, ready to retort to the gossiping woman, when a gentle tug on her wrist stopped her. Swallowing her statement, she looked inquisitively at Ben, who had stood with her, and he shook his head at her, discouraging het next move. Humming softly, Iris moved to comfort Daphne, turning to see Anthony approach his sister.
"I was not aware, sister, of what Berbrooke attempted," he stated, sitting beside her, his face solemn. Iris watched, transfixed as he fixed a stare at Iris and patted the space between him and Daphne. Warily, Iris sat beside them both, Benedict nodding once and stepping away to distract their mother, so that Anthony could continue.
"I would have helped you. Both of you," he continued, finding Iris' hazel eyed gaze upon his face, he sighed, "you should have told me."
Daphne scoffed, drawing Anthony's attention, "would you have believed me?" she declared, "did you only change your mind about Lord Berbrooke, because another man told you the truth?" she asked angrily. Iris kept a passive look on her face, unsure of how much Anthony knew about her run-in with the disgraced Lord. Anthony looked offended and shook his head.
"You truly esteem me so little?" he asked. Iris's eyes widened and she vehemently shook her head, opening her mouth to respond, before Daphne chimed in, "after I apprised you of my wishes, and you proceeded to ignore them...yes, brother, I do."
Iris leaned forward and placed her hand on Anthony's, and his thumb immediately stroked along the side of her hand. She quirked a comforting smile at him, which he tentatively returned as Daphne stood, making her way towards the Duke, who had swiftly dismounted his horse, handing the reins off to a footman nearby.
Iris just heard Daphne's admonishment of "you are late," before the Duke took her arm and they began their walk along the pathway cutting through the green.
Anthony stood, and offered Iris his hand. Taking it and allowing him to pull her to her feet gracefully, "I do not think so lowly of you, Lord Bridgerton," she said quietly, but earnestly. Anthony stared at her intently, "I could never think so lowly of you," she raised her gaze to his, and startled at the intense look on his face. Iris smiled at him warmly, which fell when she noticed Daphne and her Duke stood off as he fixed her cuff, before Lord Berbrooke's sudden arrival disturbed her line of vision.
"Bridgerton!" he called out, crossing the green. Anthony turned to him as he called out again, approaching their covering. Anthony stepped forward to face him and protect Iris as Lord Berbrooke waved a document in Anthony's face.
"I bring cheerful news, Bridgertons," je sneered, "I have taken matters into my own hands, and sought a special license for my wedding to Miss Bridgerton."
Berbrooke's face was mottled in bruises, varying from black to a deeo red-wine colour. Someone had given him a beating, and it made the gnarled sneer on his face more pronounced. Iris stared at the ground in disbelief, as Lady Bridgerton approached with Colin and Ben, Daphne and the Duke bringing up the rear to contain Lord Berbrooke's declaration.
"There is to be no wedding," Daphne declared, as the Duke closed his eyes behind her, willing the strength to not react again.
Anthony stepped in, gripoing Iris's hand firmly behind him, "I have told you," he reminded the man before him, "The arrangement is cancelled," Anthony looked at his sister, the honesty in his eyes showing he wouldn't allow this, as Iris tried to control her fear of the out-of-control man.
Lady Bridgerton noticed Iris's worry and steoped forward herself, radiating calm. "Lord Berbrooke," she interjected, "you look in a great deal of pain, shall we continue this conversation in a more private location?" she gestured to the seats beside the refreshments under their coverings, but he shook his head
"I require no further conversation," He stated haughtily, "though perhaps I am finally speaking to the true head of Bridgerton House" he continued. Iris squeezed Anthony's hand so tightly it was a wonder he didn't react.
Lord Berbrooke's unkindness hadn't stopped however, and he continued in spite, "for if it were you, I imagine you would have instructed your sister to take better care than to encourage certain attentions while alone with me on the Dark Walk at Vauxhall."
Iris gasped in worry, and stood beside Anthony, her eyes narrowing in anger, "Sir, you go too far!" she chastised, "this behaviour is not becoming of a gentleman," she admonished him, hopefully the reminder of his station would cool his vitriol.
Lord Berbrooke bared his teeth at Iris, "ignoring your mousy ward, mere hearsay of such a scandal could wreak havoc on even the most influential families," he smiled a toothy smile, glancing around to see if any onlookers were present before leaning towards Iris, "not to think of what would happen to you, Miss Edgehill, should people hear of how alone you allow yourself to be in the gardens – why anything could befall you! And what would someone like, say, Lady Whistledown do with such unseemly information?"
Anthony jutted his chin out, and, still gripping Iris' hand challenged Lord Berbrooke, "Is that a threat?" he snarled, his angry expression mirrored on all three of the handsome, elder Bridgerton brothers faces.
"It is certainly not," Berbrooke retorted, "because in three days, I am to marry. I have the diamond of the season," he boasted, "I have the very best the ton has to offer. I have a Bridgerton. Nobody will want your families sloppy seconds, so nobody need worry about the forever Miss Edgehill."
Berbrooke slapped a document into Anthony's chest, leaving a final cutting remark that Iris had not heard, still reeling was she from that vile man's remark. Her whole body shook, with horror, terror and a flooding of embarrassment.
Tears clouded her eyes, and she cleared her throat, wrapping her shawl around her, before tugging her hand free of Anthony's and turning, fleeing the confines of the Bridgerton family, whose presence had been such a comfort, she quickly marched across the green and was soon out of sight.