2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

T he morning dawned bright and clear, a perfect spring day that would have ordinarily lifted Iris's spirits. However, as she sat at her dressing table, allowing her maid to arrange her raven hair into a becoming style, she was filled with a curious feeling, something between anticipation and dread.

"There you are, My Lady," her maid, Lucy, said with satisfaction as she pinned the last errant curl into place. "You look a picture."

Iris studied her reflection in the mirror, noting the flushing of her cheeks and the sparkle in her green eyes. She smoothed a hand over the pale pink muslin of her dress, its delicate embroidery a reminder of her sister's exquisite needlework skills.

"Thank you, Lucy," she murmured, rising from her seat. "I suppose I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

As she made her way downstairs, Iris overheard her mother's voice drifting from the morning room. "...absolutely essential that we pay our respects to the Earl of Thornbrook. I've heard he's quite the recluse, but we must make an effort as our nearest neighbor of consequence."

Iris froze on the bottom step, her heart suddenly racing. Surely her mother couldn't mean...

"Ah, there you are, Iris," Lady Rosier said as she caught sight of her younger daughter. "Come along, dear. We're to pay a call on Lord Thornbrook this morning."

Iris's eyes widened, but she composed herself quickly, unwilling to show her excitement. "But Mama," she protested weakly, "surely it's too early for such a visit. We've only just arrived in the neighborhood ourselves."

Lady Rosier waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense. It's been over a week since we took up residence, and it would be the height of impropriety to delay any longer. Now, where is your sister? Maude! Do hurry, child!"

As the Rosier ladies settled into their carriage a short while later, Iris was torn between a desperate desire to confess her previous encounter with Lord Thornbrook and an equally strong urge to maintain her silence. In the end, cowardice won out, and she sat in miserable silence as they made the short journey to Thornbrook Hall.

The Earl's estate was even more impressive from the front. Manicured lawns gave way to artfully wild gardens, a riot of color that seemed at odds with the austere facade of the great house. As they alighted from the carriage, Iris couldn't help but admire the architectural beauty of the building, its graceful lines speaking of a refined elegance that belied its master's gruff demeanor.

A stately butler admitted them to the house and led them to a grand drawing room that breathed old money and impeccable taste. Iris's eyes were immediately drawn to the magnificent pianoforte that dominated one corner of the room, its polished surface gleaming in the morning light. She also noticed a beautifully decorated violin case on a small table in that corner.

"The Earl of Thornbrook, My Ladies," the butler intoned, and Iris felt her breath catch as Lord Thornbrook entered the room.

He cut an imposing figure in his perfectly tailored coat and breeches, his cravat tied with careless precision. Those stormy eyes swept over the assembled ladies, lingering momentarily on Iris before he offered a stiff bow.

"My Ladies," he greeted them, his tone coolly polite. "Welcome to Thornbrook Hall."

Lady Rosier's smile was brittle as she curtsied, her eyes darting about the room as if searching for evidence of impropriety. "How kind of you to receive us, Lord Thornbrook. We felt it only proper to pay our respects as new neighbors."

"Indeed," Lord Thornbrook replied, a hint of irony coloring his voice. His gaze flickered to Iris, a single brow arching in silent challenge. "Though I believe Lady Rosier and I have already had the pleasure of making each other's acquaintance."

Iris felt the blood drain from her face as her mother's head whipped around, eyes wide with surprise and barely concealed disapproval. Maude gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth.

"You have?" Lady Rosier's voice was sharp, her eyes boring into Iris with an intensity that made her daughter want to shrink into the floor. "When, pray tell, did this occur?"

Iris's heart pounded in her chest, her palms growing damp with nervous perspiration. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her mind raced, searching desperately for an explanation that wouldn't reveal the full extent of what had happened.

"I... that is to say... we..." Iris stammered, her usual eloquence deserting her entirely.

Lord Thornbrook, seeming to sense her distress, stepped in smoothly. "Lady Iris Rosier was good enough to compliment my musical abilities when we chanced to meet yesterday during her constitutional." A glint in his eye spoke of barely suppressed amusement at her discomfort.

Lady Rosier's lips pressed into a thin line, her nostrils flaring slightly. "I see," she said, her tone frosty. "And why, Iris, did you not think to mention this... chance encounter to your family?"

Iris felt as though she might faint, her corset suddenly feeling far too tight. She struggled to draw a proper breath, her mind whirling with panic. "I... I didn't think... that is, it seemed so inconsequential at the time..."

"Inconsequential?" Lady Rosier's voice rose slightly, causing Iris to wince. "Meeting an unmarried gentleman alone is hardly what I would call inconsequential, Iris."

"Now, now," Lord Thornbrook interjected, his tone maddeningly calm. "I assure you, Lady Rosier, our encounter was brief and entirely accidental. Lady Iris merely expressed an interest in music, a passion we seem to share."

Lady Rosier's expression softened slightly at this, though her eyes remained sharp as they flicked between her daughter and the Earl. "Oh? Well, Iris is quite the accomplished musician herself, you know. Perhaps you might play for us, my dear?"

Still reeling from the near-disaster, Iris felt her panic surge anew at the suggestion. Play? Now? When her hands were shaking, and her heart felt as though it might burst from her chest? She looked to Lord Thornbrook, silently pleading for rescue, but found only that infuriating amusement in his gaze.

"I... I'm not certain that would be appropriate, Mama," Iris managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper .

"Nonsense," Lady Rosier insisted, her tone brooking no argument. "I'm sure Lord Thornbrook would be delighted to hear you play. Wouldn't you, My Lord?"

Lord Thornbrook's lips curved into a challenging smile, and she returned with a glare. How had a simple walk led to this mortifying situation? And how pray tell, was she to extricate herself without having her musicality judged by Lord Thornbrook or incurring her mother's wrath?

"See? Lord Thornbrook has no desire to be subjected to my paltry attempts at music."

"Now, now," Lord Thornbrook said, his lips curving into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I insist. After all, I should like to hear the talents of the young lady who so boldly appraised my own performance."

Iris felt as though she were walking to her own execution as she allowed herself to be led to the pianoforte. As she settled onto the bench, she cast a beseeching look at the Earl, silently pleading for mercy. He merely raised an eyebrow, his expression one of polite interest tinged with skepticism.

Taking a deep breath, Iris placed her fingers on the keys and began to play. She had chosen to play Mozart's Requiem, a piece she had practiced countless times and felt reasonably confident in her ability to execute. As the first notes filled the air, she allowed herself to be carried away by the music, her earlier nervousness fading as she lost herself in the familiar melody.

When the final chords faded away, Iris was surprised to find that the room had fallen into a hushed silence. She looked up to see her mother and sister beaming with pride while Lord Thornbrook regarded her with an inscrutable expression.

"That was... passable," he said at last, his tone maddeningly neutral .

Iris felt a spark of indignation flare within her chest. "Passable?" she repeated, unable to keep the edge from her voice. "I should think it was a fair bit more than that, My Lord."

The Earl's eyes narrowed slightly at her tone. "Perhaps," he conceded. "Though I find it curious that one who professes such admiration for music would choose such a... safe selection. Surely a true devotee of the art would seek to challenge themselves?"

Iris bristled at the implied criticism. "And I suppose you consider yourself the authority on what constitutes a challenge, Lord Thornbrook?"

"Iris!" Lady Rosier hissed, scandalized by her daughter's lack of politeness.

Lord Thornbrook, however, seemed almost amused by her outburst. "As a matter of fact, I do," he replied, rising from his seat and approaching the pianoforte. "If you'll permit me, I should like to demonstrate."

Without waiting for a response, he sat beside Iris on the bench, his larger frame causing her to shift to accommodate him. The sudden proximity sent a jolt in her stomach, and she found herself acutely conscious of the warm press of his arm against her own.

As his fingers touched the keys, Iris felt her breath catch in her throat. The music that poured forth was unlike anything she had ever heard—complex, passionate, and achingly beautiful. It spoke of longing and loss, joy and sorrow so entwined that they became indistinguishable.

When the last notes faded away, Iris found herself blinking back tears. She turned to look at Lord Thornbrook, only to find him watching her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

"That was..." she began, struggling to find words adequate to express the depth of her emotions.

"My own composition," he supplied, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "Perhaps now you understand the difference between mere technical proficiency and true artistry."

Iris felt her earlier admiration give way to indignation at his arrogant pronouncement. "I understand that you take great pleasure in belittling the accomplishments of others," she retorted, keeping her voice equally low. "Tell me, My Lord, does it make you feel superior to crush the aspirations of those you deem unworthy?"

For a moment, something akin to hurt flashed in Lord Thornbrook's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by his usual mask of cool disdain. "I merely speak the truth, Lady Rosier. If you find it difficult to hear, perhaps consider whether your talents might be better applied elsewhere."

Her mother's voice cut through the tension before Iris could formulate a suitably scathing reply. "Oh, how magnificent, Lord Thornbrook! You must simply play for us again at the earliest opportunity. Perhaps at the assembly next week?"

The Earl's expression shuttered completely at the mention of the upcoming social event. "I'm afraid I must decline, Lady Rosier. I do not attend such gatherings, and I don't play for large audiences."

"But surely you must!" Lady Rosier protested. "It would be such a shame to deprive the neighborhood of your talents."

"I assure you, madam, the neighborhood will survive quite well without my presence," Lord Thornbrook said firmly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have pressing business to attend to."

Iris lagged behind as the Earl ushered them towards the door with barely concealed impatience. When they reached the entrance hall, she turned to face Lord Thornbrook, determined to have the last word .

"I hope you're satisfied with yourself, My Lord," she said, her voice low and heated. "You've certainly proved your superiority, at least in your own mind."

Lord Thornbrook's eyes flashed dangerously. "And you, Lady Rosier, have proved that beauty and grace do not always go hand in hand with wisdom or discernment. I bid you good day."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Iris to stare after him with fury in her eyes. She found her thoughts in turmoil as she joined her mother and sister in the carriage.

How dare he dismiss her so callously? And yet... the memory of his music lingered, stirring emotions she had never before experienced. Despite her anger, Iris couldn't deny the truth of Lord Thornbrook's words. His composition had touched her soul in a way that went far beyond mere technical skill.

As the carriage rolled down the drive, Iris gazed out the window at the receding form of Thornbrook Hall. She had a sinking feeling that this was far from the last she would see of the Earl, and she wasn't entirely sure whether the prospect enkindled dread within her or excitement.

"Well," Lady Rosier said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the carriage. "That was certainly... interesting. Iris, my dear, I do hope you'll endeavor to be more gracious in the future. Lord Thornbrook is a man of considerable influence, and it would not do to make an enemy of him."

Iris bit back a retort, knowing that any attempt to explain the situation would only lead to further lectures on proper behavior. Instead, she merely nodded.

There would be a subsequent encounter, that she was certain of. The challenge in Lord Thornbrook's eyes had awakened something within her—a determination to prove herself worthy of his respect as a musician and a woman of substance.

As they arrived back at Rosewood Manor, Iris excused herself and made her way to the music room. Seating herself at the pianoforte, she began to play, her fingers moving intensely.

Hours passed as Iris lost herself in the music, barely aware of the passage of time as she played a piece she had composed but had never played in front of anyone else. When the soft glow of twilight began to fill the room, she finally rose from the instrument, her fingers aching.

With a small, secret smile, she went to her chambers to prepare for dinner. As they said, the game was afoot, and Lady Iris Rosier was nothing if not a worthy opponent.