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13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

T he delicate clink of silverware against fine china filled the air as the Rosiers and Mr. Hartley sat in the sunlit dining room of Rosewood Manor. Iris observed the couple before her with wistful joy.

The effortless manner in which Maude and Mr. Hartley interacted, their gentle smiles, and the soft laughter that punctuated their conversation painted a picture of contentment that Iris had rarely witnessed.

"I must say, Lady Maude," Mr. Hartley remarked, his eyes twinkling with admiration, "your embroidery skills are exceptional. The handkerchief you gifted me is a treasure I shall cherish always."

Maude's cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she replied, "You are too kind, Mr. Hartley. I am pleased you find it to your liking."

"Mr. Hartley," Lady Camilla Rosier began her voice light, "you've quite transformed our Maude. I don't believe I've ever seen her smile so much."

Mr. Hartley's eyes crinkled at the corners as he gazed at Maude. "I assure you, Lady Camilla, the transformation is mutual. Your daughter has brought a light into my life I never knew was missing. "

Maude blushed prettily, ducking her head. "Ralph, you'll make me swoon if you continue with such flattery."

Iris couldn't help but smile at the exchange. This was precisely the sort of gentle, affectionate courtship that suited Maude perfectly. Yet, as she watched them, Iris felt a stirring in her heart—a longing for something more intense, more passionate.

Her thoughts drifted unbidden to Lord Thornbrook, to the fire in his eyes when he played the piece he had composed for her at the pianoforte, and to the intensity of his gaze when it met hers.

"And how are you, Lady Iris?" Mr. Hartley's voice broke through her reverie. "Maude tells me the two of you are very close. Will you miss her?"

Iris felt herself smirk at the implication. He was alluding to their impending marriage. She took a sip of tea to steady herself before replying, "She is right, Mr. Hartley. I could not ask for a better elder sister than Maude. Of course, I shall miss her, but the knowledge of her safety and happiness will dull the ache of our separation."

"Indeed," Maude added a hint of affection in her voice. "Besides, we would be seeing each other all the time. Will we not, sister?"

Iris nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Of course, darling. We both know I can't live without you for long. You may have to keep me permanently."

Maude and Mr. Hartley laughed. "Oh, gladly, Iris," said Maude.

"We'll kidnap and take you with us," joked Mr. Hartley, making both sisters chuckle.

"Now, now, Ralph," her father interjected playfully. "Maude will spoil her sister rotten. You wouldn't want a spoiled child in your midst so soon, now, would you?"

Even her mother couldn't control her laughter. Iris found herself relaxing, drawn into the warmth and comfort of the moment. For the first time in weeks, she felt a lightness in her spirit, an almost girlish cheerfulness that she had thought lost to her.

As the meal drew to a close, Mr. Hartley cleared his throat, his expression suddenly serious.

"Lord and Lady Rosier, Lady Maude, Lady Iris," he began, his voice steady but tinged with nervousness, "I hope you will forgive my presumption, but I find I can no longer keep silent on a matter of great importance to me."

The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on Mr. Hartley. Iris felt her heart begin to race, sensing the weight of the moment.

Mr. Hartley turned to face Maude, taking her hand in his. "Lady Maude, from the moment I first made your acquaintance, I have been captivated by your grace, kindness, and gentle spirit. Each day, my admiration and affection for you have grown stronger. I cannot imagine a future without you by my side."

Maude's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise as Mr. Hartley continued, "Lord Rosier, Lady Rosier, I come before you today to humbly request your daughter's hand in marriage. I would be honored to make her my wife with your blessing."

For a moment, silence reigned. Then, as if a dam had broken, joy flooded the room. Lady Rosier's eyes filled with happy tears while Lord Rosier beamed with pride. Iris found herself clasping her hands together, her heart swelling with happiness for her sister.

Lord Rosier rose from his seat, his voice thick with emotion. "Mr. Hartley, you have proven to be a man of honor and integrity. We would be delighted to welcome you into our family. That is if Maude will have you."

Maude's eyes filled with tears of joy as she looked at Mr. Hartley. "Oh, Ralph," she breathed, "nothing would make me happier. "

As the newly engaged couple embraced, Iris felt her eyes grow misty. She was truly happy for her sister. Even the thought of Lord Edgar Ainsworth couldn't dampen her mood.

As congratulations were exchanged and embraces shared, Iris hugged Maude tightly, whispering, "Oh, Maude, I am so happy for you!"

The news of Maude's engagement spread through the Ton like wildfire. Servants of Rosewood Manor whispered excitedly in the corridors, their eyes bright. The cooks clapped their flour-covered hands with glee, immediately setting about planning a feast worthy of the occasion. Footmen scurried to and fro, polishing silver and arranging flowers.

Soon, a steady stream of carriages began to arrive, their wheels crunching on the gravel drive. Ladies in colorful silk gowns and gentlemen in immaculate coats descended, their faces alight with curiosity and anticipation. The butler announced each arrival with practiced solemnity, though even his stoic demeanor couldn't entirely hide the twinkle in his eye.

Laughter rang out in bursts, punctuated by the clink of champagne coupes and the rustle of silk as guests moved about the room. Iris stood by her sister's side, beaming with pride as toast after toast was made to the happy couple.

"To Maude Rosier and Mr. Ralph Hartley," Lord Rosier proclaimed, raising his coupe high. "May your union be blessed with love, laughter, and many happy years together."

Iris sipped her champagne, the bubbles tickling her nose. For once, she didn't feel out of place or restless. She allowed herself to be fully present, basking in the glow of her sister's happiness, pushing aside her own complicated feelings. She laughed freely, joining in the toasts and well-wishes with genuine enthusiasm.

That is until the Ainsworth cousins arrived.

Lord Edgar Ainsworth entered the room first, his golden hair gleaming in the candlelight and a charming smile plastered on his handsome face. Lord Thornbrook soon followed him.

The two cousins could not have presented a more striking contrast—Lord Ainsworth, fair and smiling, moved easily through the crowd, while Lord Thornbrook's dark, brooding presence seemed to part the sea of guests before him.

Iris found herself torn between the desire to approach Lord Thornbrook and the knowledge that propriety demanded she greet Lord Ainsworth first, as he was the one who was approaching her. Lord Ainsworth was before her in the blink of an eye, bowing slightly.

"Lady Iris," he said, his voice warm. "What joyous news! Your sister must be overjoyed."

Iris curtsied, forcing a smile. "Indeed she is, Lord Ainsworth. We are all most pleased for Maude and Mr. Hartley."

As Lord Ainsworth engaged her in conversation, Iris found her attention wandering. Her eyes sought out Lord Thornbrook, who stood apart from the main gathering, a coupe of champagne held loosely in his hand. As if sensing her gaze, he looked up, their eyes meeting across the crowded room. The intensity of his stare sent a frisson of excitement down Iris's spine.

"Lady Iris?" Lord Ainsworth's voice drew her attention back to him. "Are you quite well? You seem distracted."

Iris flushed, embarrassed at having been caught in her reverie. "Forgive me. I fear the excitement of the day has left me rather overwhelmed."

From across the room, Maude caught Iris's eye, her brow furrowed in concern. Iris offered her sister a reassuring smile, but she could feel the weight of Maude's worry .

Iris found herself increasingly restless. The constant chatter and the forced smiles began to wear on her nerves. Excusing herself from yet another well-wishing guest, Iris slipped away from the main gathering, seeking refuge in the quiet of the music room.

The moment she entered the familiar space, Iris felt some of the tension leave her body. She moved to the pianoforte, running her fingers lightly over the keys. Without conscious thought, she began to play, losing herself in the music. The melody that flowed from her fingers was hesitant initially but grew in confidence and complexity as she continued.

She was so engrossed in playing that she couldn't hear the door open. Only when Lord Ainsworth spoke did she realize she was no longer alone.

"That was beautiful, Lady Iris," he said softly. "I had no idea you were so talented."

At the door stood Iris's mother, quietly studying her every move. She felt herself stiffen, suddenly annoyed that she was essentially being forced to entertain Lord Ainsworth.

Iris started, her fingers slipping on the keys and producing a discordant sound. "Lord Ainsworth," she said, rising quickly from the bench. "Forgive me, I didn't hear you enter."

He waved away her apology, moving closer. "No need to apologize. I'm the one who should beg forgiveness for interrupting such a lovely performance."

Iris felt her cheeks warm under his admiring gaze. "You're too kind, My Lord. I was merely... working through some ideas."

Lord Ainsworth's eyes softened. "Ideas for what, might I ask? A piece for your sister's wedding, perhaps?"

"Something like that," Iris murmured, averting her eyes.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Lord Ainsworth spoke again, his voice hesitant. "Lady Iris, I hope you will forgive my boldness, but I feel I must speak. Seeing your sister's joy today, I cannot help but think of our own future together."

Iris felt her heart race, a sense of panic rising within her. "Our future?"

He stepped closer, and Iris resisted the urge to back away. "Yes. I've spoken with your father, and he seems amenable to the idea of... well, of a match between us."

Iris's mind whirled. She had known this was coming, of course, but to hear it spoken aloud made it suddenly, terrifyingly real.

She felt her mother's gaze on her, urging her to say yes as she thought of a response. Just then, the door to the music room opened once more. Lord Thornbrook stood in the doorway, his stormy eyes examining the scene before him.

"Forgive me," he said, his voice calm. "I did not realize the room was occupied."

Lady Camilla Rosier shot daggers at Lord Thornbrook. "Not at all, Lord Thornbrook. Lord Ainsworth was just informing Iris of his intentions to court her."

Lord Thornbrook's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly as he told his cousin, "Aunt Isabelle was asking after you, Edgar. She is wondering where you've gone. You know how she gets when her beloved son is out of sight for long."

"Yes, well, I suppose I should rejoin the party. Lady Iris, we'll continue our conversation another time."

Iris nodded mutely, watching as Lord Ainsworth left the room. As he passed Lord Thornbrook, the two men exchanged a look that spoke volumes .

For a moment, Iris, Lady Camilla, and Lord Thornbrook lingered quietly in the music room, and then her mother sauntered away, calling after Iris, "Follow me, child. The party isn't over."

As Lord Thornbrook also turned to leave, Iris felt a moment of desperate courage. "Lord Thornbrook," she said quietly. "Please, don't go on my account. You heard my mother. I'm just leaving."

As she rose from the pianoforte and moved towards the door, Lord Thornbrook stepped aside to let her pass. In that brief moment, as she brushed past him, Iris felt something pressed into her hand—a folded piece of paper. Her fingers closed around it instinctively, her heart pounding.

With a nod and a last, intense look, Lord Thornbrook turned and left the room. Iris stood rooted to the spot, her heart pounding in her chest.

Reluctantly, she returned to the drawing room, aware that her absence would soon be noticed. She circulated among the guests, conversing politely and accepting congratulations on her sister's behalf, all the while acutely aware of the letter burning a hole in her pocket.

As soon as it was socially acceptable, Iris excused herself and retreated to her bedchamber. With trembling hands, she unfolded the letter, her eyes devouring the words written in Lord Thornbrook's bold hand:

Dearest Lady Iris,

I must confess that your previous letter, informing me of my cousin's intentions towards you, has caused me no small amount of distress. Edgar is a good man. I cannot deny it, but I cannot help but think you deserve more than mere goodness. You possess a fire, a passion that demands to be matched.

You are a rare jewel—passionate, intelligent, and possessed of a talent that rivals mine. The thought of you being tied to a man who cannot truly appreciate your fire fills me with a feeling of sorrow I can scarcely express.

I know I have no right to speak thus, yet I find I cannot remain silent. I cannot stand idly by while a union of convenience dims your light. If I am presumptuous in this, I beg your forgiveness. But know this—you have awakened something I thought long dead in me.

Yours, with most profound regard,

Lord Thornbrook

Iris read the letter once, twice, three times, her heart racing with each pass. The hidden meanings, the barely veiled emotions—they left her breathless. She pressed the letter to her chest, closing her eyes as a wave of emotion shook her to the core.

Her mind was filled with conflicting feelings as she changed into her nightgown. Joy at her sister's engagement warred with anxiety over Lord Ainsworth's intentions and a deep, aching longing for Lord Thornbrook.

As she drifted off to sleep, images began to form in her mind.

In her dream, Iris found herself in the drawing room of Rosewood Manor, but it was transformed. Flowers adorned every surface, and the room was filled with smiling faces. At the center of it all stood Lord Thornbrook, his dark eyes fixed upon her with an intensity that made her breath catch.

Dream-Horatio moved towards her, taking her hand in his. " My dearest Iris ," he said, his voice low and fervent, " will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife? "

The scene shifted, and suddenly, they were surrounded by well-wishers, much like Maude and Mr. Hartley had been earlier that day. Iris felt a joy so profound it threatened to overwhelm her.

As Dream-Horatio leaned in, Iris felt her heart racing. And then —

Iris woke with a start, her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed. She lay in the darkness, the remnants of the dream clinging to her like cobwebs. As reality slowly reasserted itself, Iris faced a truth she could no longer deny: she was irrevocably, undeniably in love with Lord Horatio Ainsworth, the Earl of Thornbrook.

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