A/N: Hi everyone! Here is the next instalment - apologies for the delay! I celebrated my birthday and hit a bit of a roadblock with where to go next. I have the structure, but my chapters that were ready to go weren't flowing well, so I have been at the drawing board! I hope you enjoy the cross-over - I haven't decided whether or not to develop that further, but for now, I do love a bit of Austen too!

As always, I only own Iris and her interactions - everything familiar belongs to Shonda (as this follows the Netflix series).

Dearest Eliza,

Forgive me for my impertinent address, but we are family now, albeit distantly, with your sister marrying my cousin.

Having no other female family members other than your own, I wondered whether I might beg your opinion, as all within our mutual circle have advocated you as my confidante, for both your intelligence and your forthright, but honest advice.

I am stuck in such a situation as I find no happy ending, and I am afraid that I could potentially lose my future happiness and the relationship I have with the Bridgerton family.

I have been Ward to the Viscount Bridgerton for some years now, and following the death of my father, whereby my guardianship should have fallen to my cousin Charles, as my nearest next of kin, and him having been keen to explore Hertfordshire, where he met your lovely sister, I did not wish to be a burden, and so the former Viscount Birdgerton allowed me room and board, which I have contributed towards with my inherited annuity.

Soon after, the Viscount Bridgerton also passed, and the responsibility of my Wardship has fallen to his eldest son, Lord Anthony Bridgerton.

Permit me my impertinence here, dear cousin, and guide me, for my feelings for this man have altered me completely.

No longer can I stand being away from his sight and side, and always do I care for his happiness. I urge you to offer advice on what to do in this matter, as well as any comforting words you might have for someone who readily hopes to extend our acquaintance past that of mere letter-writing ladies.

I do look forward to hearing from you soon! Please pass my congratulations on to your sister, my cousin has recently written to advise he expects to enjoy the wonders and joys of fatherhood in time for Christmas and I could not be happier for him, nor for your sister, Jane, for that matter.

I am, affectionately yours,

Iris.

~~~~~~~~~

Dearest Iris,

There shall be no forgiveness, for there has been no impertinence to cause offence.

As you say we are family, so fret not!

Your congratulations for the announcement of my forthcoming niece or nephew was gratefully appreciated, and thanks from the happy couple have been returned to you wholeheartedly.

In the matter of your worries, cousin, I daresay perhaps it might be worth you conversing with the Viscount. Otherwise, once the season ends, perhaps it might be worth your relocation, even if temporary.

As the saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder.It is difficult for me to offer any other advice, not knowing you very well, and knowing nothing of the current Viscount, though both Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley knew, and indeed spoke highly, of his father. One can only hope he is similar in nature.

Please do continue writing, whether unburdening yourself, or to continue our acquaintance, and please know you are always welcome at Pemberley, or Netherfield – I am sure Jane would not mind me making this declaration without conferring with her first.

Yours affectionately,

Your cousin,

Eliza.

Iris sighed as she read the missive from her cousin. There had been many between them following her desperate missives sent, but this letter in particular called to her more than the others.

Mrs Elizabeth Darcy was an intelligent woman and a force to be reckoned with, but her kindness was appreciated. Iris's cousin Charles Bingley had inherited her father's estate upon the death of Lord Edgehill, allowing Iris to increase her extended family almost tenfold by the marriage of her cousin to a Miss Jane Bennett some years prior, a young lady with an abundance of both kind-heartedness and sisters.

Elizabeth, Jane's younger sister was honest and refreshingly blunt, and Iris knew her advice was sound, but the pit that gnawed away in her stomach every time she even thought of conversing with Anthony always left her feeling slightly ill.

This was all made immeasurably worse by the fact that Iris, who was trying to protect and secure Daphne, had been enlightened to the fact that during the season, Daphne's feelings for the Duke of Hastings had been blooming, and that he had also been telling her things, that were not strictly discussed outside of a marital relationship.

Iris hoped to never have a repeat of the conversation regarding what a young lady might do alone at night, other than sleeping, and Iris was suitably mortified when Daphne elaborated.

Having escaped the silence of the drawing room, only to collide with Anthony of all people, following her conversation, had only made the situation worse, and Iris had fled, for need to be away from the inappropriate thoughts Daphne had now put into Iris's mind.

Iris had noted a change in Daphne over the following few days, she seemed more distant and had snapped at Eloise and Hyacinth more than once. Benedict had remarked that the Duke seemed to have vanished from public life as well, but the look Daphne sent him anytime he mentioned the Duke of Hastings stopped him from ever wanting to discuss him with Daphne.

Furrowing her brow, Iris had confused herself trying to figure out what was happening, as during more than one engagement, Daphne had all but thrown herself at the Prince.

She worried terribly about the upcoming ball with the Prince, as Daphne had been invited to the palace at the behest of said Prince, who had gifted her a dazzling necklace of diamonds and had hinted more than once of how Daphne would make a wonderful wife and princess.

Iris had even feared when she heard the that Anthony had wanted to take his sister to a boxing match in order to spend time with the Prince.

Iris had been somewhat stuck between wanting to spend every moment with Anthony, and wanting to avoid him for fear of rejection, and had approached Anthony to seek his advice on the matter.

"Do not you think it improper for Daphne to attend a boxing match?" She asked him softly, slipping into his study that evening, sliding onto her comfortable cushion on the chaise.

Anthony raised his gaze to meet hers, chocolate meeting hazel. Anthony stopped his writing, dropping the pen to the inkwell beside him. He sat back, slowly reaching for his cravat and loosening it.

Iris's brows knotted worriedly. She could see the stress on his face and she stood and approached him. He leaned back to watch her approach, tilting his head back to keep his eyes on her soft features. Iris reached for the cravat, her fingers nimble and quick to untie it, Iris barely thought of how intimate the gesture was.

"I suppose the worry had crossed my mind," Anthony had murmured, gulping at the feel of her satin soft touch at his throat. Iris hummed thoughtfully as she removed the offending garment, her eyes travelling Anthony's face, drinking in his every expression.

In her study, she had ignored their closeness, but his quick snap forward to catch her wrist stopped her from putting further distance between them.

"Iris," Anthony barely whispered, his eyes solely focussed on her face, "although I am chaperoning my sister, it would bring me delight to escort you to the match. Come with me," he pleaded softly.

Iris's nose twitched at the thought of the brutality of the match, but she nodded, accepting his invitation. Iris could feel the heat from his hand, the firm grip of her wrist, and felt the flush climbing higher within her.

I would do anything to spend time with you, she thought, her breath coming forth in trembling bursts.

"Then do me the honour of attending the ball with me at the end of the week,"

Anthony responded, and Iris froze, terror eking into her whole body as she realised she had spoken her last thought aloud, and eyes wide, Iris regarded Anthony thoughtfully – he had not recoiled, had not laughed, had not rejected nor ridiculed her.

Iris released the breath she hadn't realised she was holding and gently removed her hand from his grip.

"I feel I should retire, before I make an even larger fool of myself," she bobbed into a curtsey and turned to the door.

"Iris!" Anthony called softly. Iris halted at the door, her trembling fingers clutching the doorknob of the study in such a grip, she wondered whether the door would begin to rattle on its hinges, "you could never be a fool, not to me," Anthony said calmly.

Iris nodded and left the room, her heart thudding, breath almost panting, but her countenance shone with joy at the prospect of spending the boxing match with him, and later the ball with him, where she would be seen by the whole ton and the Royal Family, on the arm of the man she loved.