10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I ris stood before the mirror in her bedchamber, her reflection framed by the gauzy curtains stirring in the faint breeze. She gazed at the young woman staring back at her, searching for traces of the girl she once was. She hardly recognized the woman who stared back at her. Gone was the restless girl who had chafed at the constraints of society. In her place stood a woman awakening.

Iris's fingers traced the delicate lace at her throat, a gift from her sister Maude. Her gaze drifted to the writing desk where Lord Thornbrook's latest letter lay.

Over the past fortnight, their relationship blossomed through music lessons and discreet correspondence. What had begun as mere instruction had evolved into something far more profound.

With a soft sigh, Iris crossed the room and picked up the letter, her heart quickening as she reread his words:

Dear Lady Iris,

Your progress continues to astound me. The piece you played at the lesson was nothing short of remarkable. Your fingers dance across the keys with a grace that belies your years, and the emotion you have begun to infuse into every note is genuinely captivating.

I find myself eagerly anticipating our next meeting. Your presence brings light to these somber halls I had not realized were missing. Perhaps we might discuss your sister's wedding composition further? I have some ideas that will complement your melody beautifully.

Until then, I remain,

Your devoted tutor,

Lord Horatio Ainsworth

Iris clutched the letter to her chest, a warmth spreading through her at his words. Lord Thornbrook's initial coldness had given way to genuine respect and, dare she hope, affection. His subtle hints of reciprocation both thrilled and confused her. Was she reading too much into his words, seeing only what she wished to see?

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Iris seated herself at her writing desk. She smoothed a fresh sheet of paper before her, dipped her quill in ink, and began to craft her reply:

Dear Lord Thornbrook,

Your kind words bring me more joy than I can express. I, too, find myself counting the days until our next lesson. Your guidance has been invaluable in improving my musical skills and opening my eyes to the depth and breadth of emotion that can be conveyed through melody.

I eagerly await your thoughts on my sister's wedding composition. Your insight, as always, is most welcome.

With warmest regards,

Lady Iris Rosier

Iris paused, her quill hovering over the paper. There was so much more she longed to say, so many feelings she wished to express, but propriety demanded restraint. So she contented herself with these carefully chosen words, hoping Lord Thornbrook might read between the lines and understand the depth of her regard.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her reverie. "Come in," Iris called, hastily folding the letter and tucking it into her desk drawer.

Lucy entered with a gentle smile on her face. "Good morning, My Lady. Your mother requests your presence at breakfast."

Iris nodded, rising from her desk. "Thank you, Lucy. I'll be down shortly."

As she made her way to the breakfast room, Iris couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, though she couldn't fathom its source. Her family was already seated when she entered. Maude beamed at her, radiant in her happiness. When Iris took her seat, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

"Good morning, Mama, Papa, Maude," she said, forcing a smile.

"Good morning, dear," Lady Rosier replied, her voice overly bright. "Did you sleep well?"

Iris nodded, reaching for a slice of toast. "Yes, thank you."

Hushed whispers and furtive glances between her parents filled the breakfast room as she ate, setting Iris's nerves on edge. Her mother's smile still seemed a touch too bright, and her father's posture was unusually stiff. Something was most certainly afoot, and Iris dreaded discovering what it might be.

"Is... is everything alright?" She asked. "You all seem rather preoccupied this morning."

Lord Rosier cleared his throat, setting down his teacup. "Iris, we have a matter we wish to discuss with you."

Iris's hand stilled, the toast forgotten. "Oh?"

Her father's eyes twinkled with barely concealed excitement. "You remember Lord Edgar Ainsworth, don't you? Lord Thornbrook's younger cousin?"

Iris nodded slowly, her unease growing. "Yes, of course. We were introduced at Lady Ashworth's garden party last month."

"Well," Lord Rosier continued, "I had the pleasure of speaking with him at length during the soirée at Thornbrook Manor. He seemed quite taken with you, my dear."

Iris felt her cheeks grow warm, though whether from embarrassment or dismay, she couldn't say. "I... I see."

Lady Rosier leaned forward, her eyes shining. "Lord Ainsworth and his mother, the Dowager Viscountess, have requested to call on us this afternoon for tea. Isn't that wonderful, Iris?"

Iris's stomach churned. She forced herself to take a sip of tea, buying time to compose herself. "That's... very kind of them," she finally managed.

"Kind?" Maude exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Oh, Iris, it's marvelous! Lord Edgar Ainsworth is so handsome and charming. All the girls are simply wild about him!"

Iris set down her teacup with more force than necessary, the china rattling. "I'm sure they are," she said, unable to keep the edge from her voice. "But I hardly know him. Surely it's too soon to—"

"Nonsense," Lady Rosier interrupted. "This is the perfect opportunity for you to become better acquainted. Lord Ainsworth is a fine match, Iris. Handsome, titled, and from an excellent family. You would do well to encourage his interest."

Iris felt as though the walls were closing in around her. She looked to her father, hoping for an ally, but found only eager anticipation in his eyes.

"I... I don't think I'm feeling well," Iris said, pushing back from the table. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll retire to my room for a while. "

Without waiting for a response, Iris fled the breakfast room, her heart pounding. She found herself in the music room, drawn to the safety of the pianoforte.

Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid, but Iris's breathing slowed as soon as they touched the cool ivory keys. The tension in her shoulders eased, and her racing thoughts quieted. She closed her eyes, letting the familiar scent of polished wood envelop her as she began to play.

She poured all her confusion and frustration into the music. The melody that emerged was haunting and melancholic, a far cry from the joyful piece she had been composing for Maude's wedding. As she played, memories of her lessons with Lord Thornbrook flooded her mind.

She remembered the way his eyes had softened when she mastered a particularly challenging passage, the pride in his voice as he praised her progress, the warmth of his hand as he guided her fingers across the keys, and the intensity of his gaze as they discussed the emotion behind a piece of music.

"Iris?" Maude's voice broke through her reverie. Iris's fingers stilled on the keys as she turned to face her sister.

Maude approached cautiously; her brow furrowed with concern. "You're playing sad music again. I know what that means. Are you alright?"

Iris sighed, running her fingers lightly over the keys. "I don't know, Maude. I just... I don't understand why Mama and Papa are so eager for me to encourage Lord Ainsworth's attention."

Maude sat beside her on the piano bench, taking Iris's hand in her own. "Oh, Iris. If it's about Lord Thornbrook…well, you must see that he's not really considered eligible. His reputation—"

"It's not about him," Iris said, firing up defensively. "Why would it be about him? In any case, he's not the man people think he is. You don't know him as I do, Maude."

Maude's eyes widened at her sister's vehemence. "I…if you say so," she said gently. "But Iris, you must consider your future. Perhaps if you gave Lord Ainsworth a chance—"

"I don't want to give Lord Ainsworth a chance," Iris said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want..." She trailed off, unable to voice the depth of her feelings for Lord Thornbrook.

Maude sighed, rising from the bench. "I know, Iris, but please, for your own sake, at least consider the possibility. Lord Ainsworth is coming for tea this afternoon. Just... be open to the idea. That's all anyone is asking."

As Maude left the music room, Iris turned back to the pianoforte. Her fingers found the keys again, but instead of the melancholic tune from before, she began to play the piece she had composed for Maude's wedding. As she played, she allowed herself to imagine Lord Thornbrook beside her, his deep voice offering guidance and encouragement.

The hours leading up to Lord Ainsworth's visit were very tiresome. Iris found herself whisked from one task to another, barely able to catch her breath.

First came the meticulous selection of her gown—a process that involved Lucy holding up seemingly every dress in Iris's wardrobe for her mother's scrutiny. Then, it was on to the torturous ordeal of having her hair pinned and curled into an elaborate style that made her scalp ache.

Standing before the mirror once more, now alone in her room, she hardly recognized the perfectly coiffed young lady who stared back at her. With a heavy heart, Iris made her way to her writing desk. She pulled out the letter she had begun that morning, reading over her words once more. Taking a deep breath, she added a postscript:

P.S. My Lord, I find myself in a rather perplexing situation. Your cousin, Lord Edgar Ainsworth, has expressed an interest in making my acquaintance. He and his mother are to call for tea this afternoon. I thought you might want to know.

She stared at the words she had written, her heart pounding. Was she being too forward? Was her preference for Lord Thornbrook over his cousin too obvious? And yet, she couldn't bring herself to erase the words. They were true; she had promised herself she would always be honest with him.

With trembling hands, Iris folded the letter and sealed it with a drop of wax. As she pressed her family's crest into the cooling liquid, she felt as though she were sealing more than just a letter. She was committing to her feelings for Lord Thornbrook, come what may.

As the clock chimed the hour, signaling the imminent arrival of Lord Ainsworth and his mother, Iris tucked the letter safely away in her desk drawer. A knock at the door announced Lucy's arrival.

"My Lady Iris, are you ready? Your mother sent me to fetch you."

Iris took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Yes, I'm coming."

Lucy chattered excitedly about Lord Edgar Ainsworth's visit as they made their way downstairs.

Downstairs, Lady Rosier was instructing the servants on the precise arrangement of flowers for the drawing room while Lord Rosier perused the morning paper, occasionally offering his own suggestions.

"Ah, Iris, there you are," Lady Rosier said, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her youngest daughter. "How lovely you look, my dear. Lord Ainsworth will be quite enchanted, I'm sure."

Iris felt her cheeks grow warm. "Thank you, Mama. I'm certain Lord Ainsworth has seen far grander ladies than I."

"Nonsense," Lord Rosier said, setting down his paper. "You're a jewel, my dear, and any man would be fortunate to win your affections."

The hours seemed to crawl by as they waited for Lord Ainsworth's arrival. As she stood in the drawing room, Iris couldn't help but compare this afternoon's nervous anticipation with the eager excitement she felt before her music lessons with Lord Thornbrook.