25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

O nce inside, Edgar's demeanor shifted. Gone was the affable, slightly dull suitor Iris had known. In his place stood a man with a steely determination in his eyes.

"Lord Rosier," Edgar said, addressing Iris's father, who had emerged from his study at the commotion. "I must speak with you privately. It's a matter of great importance."

Lord Rosier nodded, his gaze moving between Edgar, Iris, and the closed front door. "Of course. Please, join me in my study."

As they turned to leave, the front door opened, revealing Horatio. The tension in the room became palpable as the three men regarded each other.

"Cousin," Edgar said, his voice tight. "Perhaps you should join us as well."

Horatio nodded, briefly meeting Iris's eyes before following Edgar and Lord Rosier into the study .

Iris longed to go with them, explain, and defend her actions, but she knew this conversation needed to happen without her presence. Nevertheless, she stood in the hallway, listening to every word.

Edgar wasted no time addressing the situation in the study. "My Lord Rosier," he began, his voice steady despite the gravity of the moment. "I feel it is my duty to inform you of what I witnessed tonight. Your daughter, Lady Iris, was in the garden with my cousin, Lord Thornbrook. The... intimacy of their interaction was unmistakable."

Lord Rosier's face paled, his gaze moving to Horatio. "Is this true?"

Horatio straightened, meeting Lord Rosier's eyes unflinchingly. "It is, My Lord. But before you judge, I beg you to hear me out."

Edgar held up a hand, surprising both men. "If I may, I have more to say on the matter." He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Over these past weeks, I have grown quite fond of Lady Iris. She is everything a man could want in a wife—beautiful, intelligent, noble. And yet..."

He paused, his gaze moving between Lord Rosier and Horatio. "And yet, I have always sensed a hesitation in her. A part of her that remained distant, unreachable. Tonight, seeing her with Horatio, I finally understood why."

Lord Rosier sank into his chair, the weight of the situation etched in every line of his face. "What are you saying, Lord Edgar?"

Edgar's expression softened, a sad smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'm saying that I intend to step aside. It's clear to me now that Lady Iris's heart belongs to another and has for some time."

Horatio stared at his cousin, shock evident in his features. "Edgar, I... I don't know what to say."

Edgar turned to him, years of rivalry and misunderstanding seeming to melt away at that moment. "You don't need to say anything, cousin. I've seen the change in you since meeting Iris. The man I knew in London—the reckless, arrogant rake—he's gone. In his place stands a man worthy of a woman like Iris."

Horatio stepped forward, extending his hand to his cousin. "Edgar, truly…your generosity humbles me."

Edgar clasped Horatio's hand, a moment of understanding passing between them. "Just promise me you'll treasure her, Horatio. She deserves nothing less than complete devotion."

Lord Rosier looked between the two men, his expression that of growing understanding. "But the scandal... the risks to Iris's reputation..."

"With all due respect, My Lord," Edgar said, "I believe the greater risk lies in forcing Iris into a marriage without love. I've seen firsthand the damage such unions can cause." A shadow passed over his face, hinting at personal experience.

Horatio stepped forward, his voice earnest. "Lord Rosier, I know I have given you ample reason to doubt me in the past. But I swear to you, on everything I hold dear, that my love for Iris is true and unchanging. I will strive to be worthy of her every day if you give me the chance."

The room fell silent as Lord Rosier considered their words. After what felt like an eternity, he spoke. "It seems I have made a grave error in judgment. I may have caused Iris great pain in trying to protect her." He looked up at Horatio, his expression stern but no longer hostile. "If this is truly what Iris wants, then... I will not stand in your way."

The tension in the room eased, replaced by a cautious sense of hope. Edgar moved to the door, opening it to reveal Iris standing just outside.

"I believe," Edgar said softly, "that there is someone here who should have a say in her future."

As Iris entered the study, her eyes immediately sought out Horatio's. At that moment, without a word spoken, their love and commitment to each other were evident for all to see.

Lord Rosier rose from his chair, moving to stand before his daughter. "Iris, my dear," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It seems we have much to discuss."

And Lord Thornbrook and Lord Ainsworth closed the door behind her.

***

The soft morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains of Iris Rosier's bedchamber, casting a gentle glow upon her face as she stirred from her slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she lay still, allowing the previous night's events to wash over her.

The haunting strains of Horatio's violin, the rush of recovered memories, and the confrontation in her father's study seemed like a vivid dream.

Iris sat up slowly, her fingers absently tracing the embroidered pattern on her coverlet. So many conflicting emotions warred within her—elation at the return of her memories, anxiety about the uncertain future, and a deep, abiding love for Horatio that seemed to fill every corner of her being.

A gentle knock at the door roused her from her reverie. "Come in," Iris called, hastily smoothing her tousled hair.

To her surprise, it was Maude who entered, carrying a tray laden with tea and toast. Her sister's unexpected presence brought a flood of questions to Iris's mind .

"Maude!" Iris exclaimed, rising to embrace her sister. "What are you doing here? Is everything all right at Hartley Estate?"

Maude set the tray down and returned her sister's embrace warmly. "All is well, dear Iris. I received an urgent note from Father this morning, asking me to come at once. He didn't provide details but mentioned it concerned you." She pulled back, her eyes searching Iris's face. "Now, seeing you, I suspect there's quite a tale to tell."

Iris was grateful for her father's foresight in summoning Maude. She gestured for her sister to sit beside her on the bed, suddenly eager to unburden herself.

"Oh, Maude," Iris began, her voice trembling slightly, "where do I even start? Last night... last night everything changed."

As Maude poured the tea, adding a splash of milk to Iris's cup just as she preferred, Iris recounted the events of the previous evening. She spoke of the haunting violin music that had drawn her to the garden, her recovered memories rushing back like a flood, and the tense confrontation with Lord Edgar and their father in the study.

Maude listened intently, her eyes widening at the revelations. When Iris finished, Maude set down her teacup with a soft clink.

"My dear sister," she said wondrously but not without concern, "what an extraordinary turn of events. But... are you certain this is wise? The Ton..."

Iris shook her head firmly, cutting off her sister's words. "I don't care about the Ton. The Horatio I know—the real Horatio—is not the man of those rumors, Maude. He's changed. And even if he hadn't, I love him. Truly and completely."

Maude reached out to squeeze Iris's hand, her expression softening. "Then I shall support you, come what may."

As if to underscore Maude's words, the sound of raised voices drifted up from downstairs. The sisters exchanged a worried glance.

"That would be Mother and Father, I expect," Maude sighed. "Father's note mentioned a family meeting this morning. I suppose we'd best dress and go down."

Iris nodded. She paused as she rose to call for her lady-in-waiting, turning back to Maude. "Thank you, my darling sister," she said softly. "For coming, for listening... for everything."

Maude smiled warmly. "What are sisters for, if not this?"

As Lucy helped Iris into a simple morning dress of pale periwinkle blue muslin, Iris's mind raced with possibilities. What would her parents say? How would they move forward from here? And Horatio—when would she see him again?

Once dressed, the sisters made their way downstairs, their parents' debate growing louder with each step. They paused outside the drawing-room door, exchanging one last look of solidarity before Iris took a deep breath and pushed it open.

The scene that greeted them was one of barely contained chaos. Lady Rosier was pacing before the fireplace, her usually impeccable coiffure slightly askew. Lord Rosier stood by the window, his posture rigid with tension.

As she entered, all eyes turned to Iris. The room fell silent momentarily before erupting into a cacophony of voices.

"Iris, darling, please tell me this is all a misunderstanding," Lady Rosier began, moving towards her daughter with outstretched hands.

Lord Rosier's voice cut across his wife's. "Now, Camilla, we agreed to hear Iris out."

"I still say this is madness," Lady Rosier retorted, whirling to face her husband. "After everything we've done to protect her reputation..."

Iris stepped further into the room, Maude a comforting presence at her side .

"Mother, Father," Iris began, her voice steadier than she felt, "I know you have concerns, but I beg you to listen. My memories have returned, and with them, the certainty of my feelings for Lord Thornbrook."

Lady Rosier made a slight sound of distress, but Lord Rosier held up a hand to silence her. "Go on, Iris," he said, his expression unreadable.

Iris took a deep breath, drawing strength from Maude's supportive presence. "I know Lord Thornbrook's past is... complicated. But the man I know, the man I love, is not the rake of London gossip. He's kind, passionate, and deeply devoted to his music and to me."

"But his reputation—" Lady Rosier began, only to be cut off by Maude.

"Perhaps, Mother," Maude interjected gently, "it's time we stopped worrying so much about what others might say and focused instead on what is right for Iris."

Lady Rosier sighed and turned to her eldest daughter, her expression that of dismay. "Maude, not even you! What's happening to all of you? It's as if that man has cast a spell on you!"

Even Lord Rosier seemed surprised. "Well, Maude…Your support in this matter is... unexpected. Are you certain?"

Maude nodded solemnly. "I am, Father. Mother. I care deeply for Iris, and I want nothing more than her happiness. It's clear to me that her heart belongs to Lord Thornbrook."

Lady Rosier sank onto a nearby settee, looking utterly defeated. "But the scandal," she murmured. "What will people say?"

Lord Rosier cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. "I find myself... reconsidering my position," he said slowly. "Lord Edgar's actions last night have given me pause. Perhaps we have been too hasty in our judgment of Lord Thornbrook."

A spark of hope ignited in Iris's chest. "Father," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "does this mean...?"

Lord Rosier held up a hand. "It means, my dear, that I am willing to give Lord Thornbrook a chance to prove himself. But," he added, his tone growing stern, "there will be conditions."

Lady Rosier rose, the features of her stern visage etched with resignation. "If this is to happen, then we must manage it carefully. The Ton will be watching our every move."

Iris felt as though she might burst with joy. She rushed to embrace her father, tears of happiness welling in her eyes. "Thank you, Father," she whispered. "Thank you for trusting me."

As she stepped back, Iris caught Maude's eye across the room, and her sister gave her a small, encouraging smile.

Later that afternoon, as Iris sat at her pianoforte, her fingers dancing over the keys in a melody that seemed to embody her joy, she allowed herself to dream of the future.

A future filled with music, love, and the promise of happiness that had seemed so elusive for so long. Tomorrow, she would see Horatio again, and together, they would begin to build the life they had once only imagined.

The soft strains of her music drifted through the open window, carried on the gentle breeze. And somewhere, not too far away, Iris imagined that Horatio could hear it—a promise, a declaration, and an invitation to the future that awaited them.