11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

T he Rosier family gathered in Rosewood Manor's drawing room, awaiting Lord Edgar Ainsworth and his mother, the Dowager Viscountess Isabelle. Iris felt a sense of dread creeping over her. She stood by the window, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the glass.

With a sigh, she turned away and called for Lucy to bring her tea to calm her nerves. Iris's thoughts wandered to Lord Thornbrook. How different would this day be if it were he who was calling rather than his cousin?

"Here, My Lady," Lucy said, handing her a cup of tea and adjusting Iris's hair one last time. "Though, if I may be so bold, you seem rather out of sorts this afternoon."

Iris managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Lucy. I confess I am not looking forward to this visit as much as I perhaps should be."

Lucy's eyes widened in surprise. "But, My Lady, surely a visit from such an eligible gentleman as Lord Ainsworth is cause for excitement? "

"Perhaps," Iris murmured, more to herself than to Lucy. "I just… don't feel ready."

Before Lucy could respond, the sound of carriage wheels on gravel drew both their attention, and Iris watched as a sleek black carriage came to a stop before the manor.

Lord Ainsworth emerged first, his golden hair catching the sunlight as he turned to assist his mother. Iris couldn't help but notice his effortless grace, the confident set of his shoulders as he escorted Lady Isabelle towards the house.

"They're here," Iris announced, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lady Rosier sauntered over, smoothing her skirts. "Remember, Iris," she murmured, "Lord Ainsworth is a most eligible match. Do try to be charming."

Iris nodded mechanically, her heart heavy in her chest. As the butler announced their guests, she schooled her features into a polite smile.

Lord Edgar Ainsworth cut a dashing figure as he entered the room. "Lord Charles Rosier, Lady Camilla Rosier," Lord Ainsworth said, bowing gracefully to her parents. "How kind of you to receive us on such short notice."

Lord Rosier beamed. "The pleasure is all ours, Lord Edgar Ainsworth. We're delighted to have you and your mother join us for tea."

As Lady Isabelle greeted her parents, Iris couldn't help but notice that Lord Ainsworth was undeniably handsome, with his blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. He had a charming smile, and his manners were impeccable. Yet, she felt none of the exhilaration that coursed through her whenever Lord Thornbrook entered a room.

"Lady Maude, as radiant as ever," Edgar said as he greeted her sister before his gaze finally settled on Iris, and his smile widened. "Lady Iris, I must say, you look even lovelier than I remembered from my cousin's soirée."

Iris curtsied, feeling her cheeks grow warm at the mention of Lord Thornbrook. "You're too kind, Lord Ainsworth. I hope you've been enjoying your time in Surrey?"

"Indeed I have," he replied, his eyes never leaving her face. "Though I must admit, the countryside has become infinitely more appealing since making your acquaintance."

As the introductions were made, Iris studied Lord Ainsworth more closely. She couldn't help but compare him to his cousin.

He was fair as Lord Thornbrook was dark. Where Lord Thornbrook was brooding, Lord Ainsworth's manner was easy and charming, eliciting smiles and laughter from her family with seemingly little effort. Where Edgar was all polished charm, Horatio possessed a depth and intensity that stirred her soul.

The party settled into the drawing room. Lord Ainsworth seated himself beside Iris, much to Lady Rosier's obvious delight. He quickly charmed her family as they made conversation, to which Iris paid little attention. He regaled them with amusing anecdotes from Surrey society, complimented Lady Rosier on her exquisite taste in decor, and engaged Lord Rosier in a lively discussion about horse breeding.

And yet, despite his apparent charms, Iris grew increasingly restless. Lord Ainsworth's conversation, while pleasant, lacked the depth and passion she had come to associate with Lord Thornbrook. She longed for the challenging discussions and intense musical debates that characterized her time with the enigmatic Earl.

As tea was served with delicate pastries, the conversation inevitably turned to Lord Thornbrook. "Iris has been taking music lessons from your cousin," her father said to Lord Ainsworth, a hint of pride in his voice.

Iris nodded, suddenly alert. "Yes, Lord Thornbrook has been kind enough to offer his guidance. He's an exceptional musician."

At the mention of Lord Thornbrook, a shadow seemed to pass over Edgar's face, though it was gone so quickly Iris wondered if she had imagined it. Even Lady Isabelle's lips tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Ah yes, Horatio," said Edgar, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something Iris couldn't quite identify. "He's always been rather... intense about his music, hasn't he?"

Before Iris could respond, Lady Isabelle interjected, her voice carrying across the room. "I was rather surprised to hear he's taken you as a pupil, Lady Iris. It's not like him to engage so... directly with society these days."

Iris felt all eyes turn to her, and she struggled to maintain her composure. "Lord Thornbrook has been most kind in offering his instruction," she said carefully. "His talent is truly remarkable."

Lady Isabelle's lips thinned slightly. "Yes, well, Horatio has always been... gifted. Though one might argue that his gifts have caused more harm than good over the years."

A tense silence fell over the room. Iris was torn between curiosity and a fierce desire to defend Lord Thornbrook. "Surely," she ventured, her voice trembling slightly, "it wasn't his fault that his mother and sister died. That was a tragic accident, was it not?"

A tense silence fell over the room. Lady Isabelle's eyes flashed, though her voice remained controlled. "No, my dear, the accident that claimed my sister-in-law and niece was not directly Horatio's fault. But his behavior... well, it caused great damage to our family. Now he's chosen to seclude himself in that dreary manor, and I can't say I blame the Ton for turning its back on him."

Lord Ainsworth cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. "Come now, Mother. We shouldn't speak ill of family, even if Horatio has made some... regrettable choices."

Iris felt a surge of indignation on Lord Thornbrook's behalf. "Perhaps Lord Thornbrook simply values his privacy. And his musical talents are truly remarkable. The soirée he hosted was a testament to that."

Lady Isabelle nodded. "It's a wonder he hosted it at all. Nevertheless, it's good that Horatio hasn't completely lost his social graces. However, I doubt it will be enough to salvage his reputation. No respectable woman would consider marrying him now."

"At least Edgar will continue the Ainsworth name," Lady Rosier interjected, clearly trying to steer the conversation to safer waters.

When Lord Ainsworth suggested a turn about the garden, Iris agreed, hoping the fresh air might clear her muddled thoughts. As they strolled along the gravel paths, Lord Ainsworth made a valiant effort to charm her, commenting on the beauty of the roses and relating amusing tales of his time at Oxford.

"Lady Iris," he said, pausing beneath a flowering arbor, "I hope you don't find me too forward, but I must tell you how much I've enjoyed our time together today."

Iris felt a flutter of panic in her chest. "You're very kind, Lord Ainsworth. I've found your company most... pleasant."

Lord Ainsworth's face lit up at her words, and Iris felt a pang of guilt. He indeed was a good man, and in another life, she might have been thrilled by his attention, but now, all she could think of was how different this walk would be if it were Lord Thornbrook by her side.

As they made their way back to the house, Iris found herself lost in thought. Lord Ainsworth was everything a young lady should want in a potential suitor—handsome, charming, and well- connected. And yet, she felt nothing for him beyond a vague sense of friendly regard. Her heart, the traitorous thing that it was, belonged to another.

When Lord Ainsworth and Lady Isabelle finally left, Iris felt a sense of relief settle over her. She retreated to her room, pleading a headache, though in truth, she simply needed solitude to sort through her tumultuous thoughts.

She had barely changed into her nightgown when a soft knock at the door startled Iris.

"Come in," she called, expecting Lucy with her evening tea.

Instead, it was Maude who entered, her face etched with concern. "Iris? Are you feeling any better?

Iris managed a weak smile as she settled onto the window seat. "I'm fine, truly. Just... overwhelmed, I suppose."

Maude settled beside her, taking Iris's hand in her own. "You seemed rather out of sorts this afternoon. Was it Lord Ainsworth? Did he say something to upset you?"

Iris shook her head, sighing deeply. "No, no. Lord Ainsworth was perfectly charming. That's rather the problem, I'm afraid."

Maude's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand. Isn't his charm a good thing?"

"It should be," Iris admitted. "And yet I find myself…conflicted."

"Iris, why? Any girl would be overjoyed to receive such attention from Lord Ainsworth. He's so handsome and charming. All the girls want to marry him."

"Perhaps," Iris murmured. "But Maude... what if one's heart yearns for something... different?"

Maude studied her sister's face, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh, Iris. You're still thinking about Lord Thornbrook, aren't you?"

Iris felt tears prick in her eyes. "I can't help it, Maude. When I'm with Lord Thornbrook, I feel... alive. The music we create together, the conversations we have... it's like nothing I've ever experienced before."

"But Iris," Maude said gently, "you must see how impossible such a match would be. Lord Thornbrook's reputation, his past... it wouldn't be right. Lord Ainsworth can offer you a life of comfort and respectability. With Lord Thornbrook…well, you heard what Lady Isabelle said. No respectable lady wants to marry him."

Iris pulled away, rising to pace the room. "I care not about other ladies. I care about the man I've come to know. He's not the monster society paints him to be, Maude. He's passionate, and intelligent, and..."

"And dangerous," Maude finished softly. "Iris, I know you believe you understand him, but you told me yourself that a man committed suicide because of him. The pain he's caused..."

Iris whirled to face her sister, her eyes flashing. "And what of the pain he's endured? To lose his parents and sister in such a tragic way... can you imagine how that must have affected him?"

Maude sighed her expression one of sympathy mixed with frustration. "Of course, it must have been terrible for him. But Iris, you can't fix him. It's not your responsibility to save him from his past."

"I don't want to fix him," Iris protested. "I just... I want to understand him. To know him, truly know him."

Maude was silent for a long moment, her gaze focused on the intricate pattern of the bedspread. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and measured. "Iris, do you remember when I first started courting Mr. Hartley?"

Iris nodded, confused by the sudden change in topic. "Of course. You were so excited, so full of hope."

"I was," Maude agreed. "And I still am. But it's not... it's not like the fairy tales we read as children. There's no earth-shattering passion, no sense that the world stops turning when we're together."

Iris felt her heart constrict. "But... but aren't you happy?"

Maude smiled a gentle, contented expression. "I am. Truly, I am. With Ralph, I feel safe and secure. He's kind and steady, and I know he'll be a wonderful husband and father. It may not be the stuff of poetry, but it's real. It's lasting."

"And you think I could have that with Lord Ainsworth?" Iris asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Maude nodded. "I do. He clearly admires you, Iris. And he could offer you a life of comfort and respectability. Isn't that worth considering?"

Iris sank back onto the bed. "But what if I want more than comfort and respectability? What if I want passion, and music, and..."

"And risk?" Maude finished. "Oh, Iris. I understand the allure; truly, I do. But sometimes... sometimes the safer path is the wiser one."

Iris felt tears begin to fall, hot and fast. "I don't know what to do, Maude. I feel as though I'm being torn in two."

Maude gathered her sister into her arms, stroking her hair gently. "I know, dearest. I know. But you must think carefully about your future. A life with Lord Thornbrook, even if it were possible, would be very unpleasant. Whispers would follow you everywhere. You'd be laughed at by society, seen as desperate to marry any man, even—"

"But I'd have music," Iris whispered. "I'd have his love."

Maude pulled back, cupping Iris's face in her hands. "Would you? Are you certain of his feelings? Has he made any declarations?"

Iris hesitated, thinking of the subtle hints and loaded glances between them. "No, not in so many words. But I'm sure he feels something for me. The way he looks at me when we play together... "

"Oh, Iris," Maude sighed. "I fear you're setting yourself up for heartbreak. Lord Thornbrook may enjoy your company and even feel affection for you. But men like him... they don't change. Not really."

Iris pulled away, wiping at her tears. "You don't know him as I do, Maude. There's so much more to him than his reputation suggests."

Maude stood, smoothing her skirts. "Perhaps, but Iris, please, don't close yourself off to other possibilities for your own sake. Edgar Ainsworth is a good man. He could make you happy if you let him."

As Maude left the room, Iris found herself more confused than ever. She moved to the window, gazing out at the moonlit garden. Beyond the carefully tended flowerbeds and manicured lawns, somewhere out there, lay Thornbrook Manor.

And within its walls was a man who had captured her heart so completely that she scarcely knew herself anymore.