4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

T he following morning was bright and clear, a perfect day for a walk in the countryside. Iris found herself eager to escape the confines of Rosewood Manor.

"Maude, dear," she called to her sister as they descended the grand staircase. "Might we take a turn about the grounds this morning? The weather is simply too fine to remain indoors."

Maude's brow furrowed slightly. "But Mr. Hartley is expected to call today. Surely you wouldn't have me miss his visit?"

Iris bit back a sigh of frustration. "Surely Mama can entertain Mr. Hartley for a short while. We needn't be gone long, and the fresh air would do us both a world of good."

After a moment's hesitation, Maude acquiesced. "Very well, but only for a brief walk. I should hate to keep Mr. Hartley waiting."

The sisters set out arm in arm, their path taking them along the winding lane that bordered their estate. Iris breathed deeply, relishing the scent of wildflowers and freshly cut grass that pervaded the air .

"You seem in better spirits today," Maude observed, glancing sidelong at her younger sister. "I confess, I was rather worried about you yesterday. You appeared quite out of sorts at dinner."

Iris forced a smile, unwilling to share the actual cause of her distraction. "I was merely fatigued from the excitement of Lady Ashworth's garden party. But I'm quite recovered now, I assure you."

As they rounded a bend in the road, the sound of approaching hoofbeats caught their attention. Iris's heart leaped into her throat as she recognized the imposing figure astride a magnificent black stallion.

Lord Thornbrook reined in his mount as he drew near, his stormy gaze sweeping over the sisters with an inscrutable expression. "The Ladies Rosier," he said, inclining his head in a curt bow. "I trust you are enjoying the fine weather?"

"Indeed we are, My Lord," Maude replied, her voice tinged with a hint of breathless admiration. "It is a lovely day for a ride."

Iris found herself uncharacteristically tongue-tied, her eyes fixed upon Lord Thornbrook's strong hands as they gripped the reins. She forced herself to meet his gaze, determined not to appear flustered by his presence.

"And you, Lady Iris?" Lord Thornbrook's voice held a note of challenge. "Have you nothing to say on the subject of the weather? Or perhaps you find such mundane topics beneath your lofty intellect?"

Iris bristled at his mocking tone. "I was merely pondering the curious juxtaposition of such a fine day with such dour company, My Lord. But perhaps that is too lofty a subject for polite conversation."

A flicker of something that might have been amusement passed across Lord Thornbrook's features. "Touché, Lady Iris. I see your wit remains as sharp as ever."

An awkward silence fell over the trio, broken only by the soft nickering of Lord Thornbrook's horse. Maude glanced between her sister and the Earl, her brow furrowed in confusion at the palpable tension in the air.

"If only you were as good a conversationalist as a musician…"

Lord Thornbrook's eyes narrowed slightly. "And if only your music talents were as good as your eavesdropping skills, Lady Iris. I wonder what other secrets you might have gleaned through such clandestine methods."

Iris felt her cheeks flush with indignation. "I assure you, My Lord, I had no intention of prying into your affairs. As a fellow music enthusiast, I found your composition most intriguing."

"A fellow enthusiast?" Lord Thornbrook's tone was skeptical. "I was under the impression that young ladies of your station viewed music as little more than a pretty accomplishment to be trotted out at social gatherings. You know how to play the piano, I'll give you that, but the true talent was Mozart's, not yours."

"You do me a great disservice," Iris retorted, her voice sharp with barely contained anger. "I'll have you know that I have studied music with great passion since childhood. I find it to be one of the purest forms of expression, capable of conveying emotions that words alone cannot hope to capture."

Lord Thornbrook regarded her with interest, his brow arched in surprise. "Indeed? And what composers do you favor, Lady Iris? Mozart, of course, but who else?"

"While I admire the works of the great masters, I confess I find myself drawn to more contemporary composers," Iris replied, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Beethoven's symphonies, for instance, speak to me in a way that I find difficult to articulate. The raw emotion, the complexity of his arrangements... it's as though he's given voice to the very depths of the human soul. "

For a moment, Lord Thornbrook seemed taken aback by her passionate response. "You surprise me, Lady Iris," he said, his voice softening slightly. "I had not thought to find such depth of understanding in one so young."

Iris felt a thrill of pride at his grudging compliment. "Perhaps you might consider reserving judgment until you have taken the time to truly know a person, My Lord. You may find that appearances can be deceiving."

A ghost of a smile played about Lord Thornbrook's lips. "A fair point, Lady Iris. I shall endeavor to keep that in mind in the future."

Maude, watching the exchange with wide-eyed fascination, cleared her throat delicately. "I hate to interrupt, but we must return to the house. Mr. Hartley will call soon, and I would hate to keep him waiting."

Lord Thornbrook's expression shuttered once more, the brief moment of connection lost. "Of course. I shan't keep you any longer. Good day, ladies."

As he prepared to ride on, Iris was seized by a sudden impulse. "Lord Thornbrook," she called, causing him to pause and look back at her. "I... If you must know, I do compose my own music. Much like you, I don't play for audiences, but you're very mistaken if you think all I do is imitate true talents. I may not be as experienced a composer as you, but I am no novice."

Lord Thornbrook regarded her in silence for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he gave a curt nod. "If you say so, Lady Iris. I would like to hear your compositions sometime. We shall see if your knowledge of music extends beyond technicalities and mere parroting of popular opinion."

"You may call upon me," she said.

He tipped his hat and spurred his horse into motion, leaving Iris to stare after him with a scowl on her flushed face.

As Iris and Maude made their way back to Rosewood Manor, Maude turned to her sister with concern. "Iris, what have you done? Surely you cannot ask Lord Thornbrook to call upon you?"

Iris waved away her sister's concern. "Don't be silly, Maude. It would be a perfectly innocent visit to discuss music, nothing more. Besides, I am not certain he will."

But even as she spoke the words, Iris knew them to be a half-truth at best. There was nothing innocent about how her pulse quickened at the thought of spending time in Lord Thornbrook's company, nor how her mind raced as she thought of what might transpire during their upcoming meeting.

As they entered the house, Iris's thoughts were interrupted by excited voices emanating from the drawing room. They entered to find their mother in animated conversation with a tall, handsome young man whom Iris recognized as Mr. Ralph Hartley.

"Ah, there you are!" Lady Rosier exclaimed, beckoning her daughters forward. "Mr. Hartley has been most eager to make your acquaintance, Iris. And Maude, my dear, how lovely you look this morning."

Iris curtsied politely, murmuring the appropriate pleasantries as she was introduced to Mr. Hartley. She could not help but notice the way the gentleman's gaze lingered appreciatively on Maude, nor the becoming blush that colored her sister's cheeks under his attention.

As the conversation turned to the usual topics of weather and local gossip, Iris found her thoughts drifting once more to Lord Thornbrook. She replayed their encounter in her mind, analyzing every word, every fleeting expression that had passed across his face.

There had been a moment, brief though it was, when the mask of cold indifference had slipped. In that instant, Iris had glimpsed something in Lord Thornbrook's eyes that spoke of hidden depths, of passions carefully concealed beneath a veneer of cold reserve.

She was pulled from her reverie by the sound of her name being spoken. "I beg your pardon?" she said, realizing Mr. Hartley had addressed her directly.

"I was merely inquiring as to your opinion on the upcoming assembly, Lady Iris," Mr. Hartley repeated, his tone patient and good-natured. "I understand it is to be quite the grand affair."

Iris forced herself to focus on the conversation at hand, pushing thoughts of Lord Thornbrook to the back of her mind. "Oh yes, I'm sure it shall be lovely. The Ashworths always throw the most delightful parties."

As the morning wore on, Iris found herself growing increasingly restless. She longed for the solitude of her bedchamber, where she might sort through the tumultuous emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of idle chatter, Mr. Hartley took his leave. As soon as the front door closed behind him, Maude turned to Iris with shining eyes.

"Oh, Iris, isn't he simply wonderful?" she gushed, her usual composure forgotten in the face of her obvious infatuation. "So handsome and so very amiable. I do believe Mama is quite taken with him as well."

Iris smiled, genuinely happy for her sister's joy despite her inner turmoil. "He seems a very pleasant gentleman. I'm certain he'll make you a fine husband someday."

Maude's cheeks flamed at the suggestion. "It's far too soon to speak of such things. We've only just become acquainted."

"And yet I've never seen you so smitten," Iris teased gently. "Come now, sister. Admit that you find him attractive."

Maude's smile was shy but undeniably pleased. "Well, perhaps I do find him rather handsome. But what of you? Surely there must be some gentleman who has caught your eye?"

Unbidden, the image of Lord Thornbrook astride his magnificent stallion flashed through Iris's mind. She pushed the thought away, unwilling to examine the emotions it stirred within her too closely.

"I'm afraid not," she lied, forcing a light-hearted laugh. "I suppose I'm simply too particular for my own good."

Maude's expression grew serious. "You mustn't be too choosy, Iris. A good match is not to be taken lightly. And you're not getting any younger, you know."

Even as she recognized their truth, Iris bristled at her sister's words. At twenty years of age, she was approaching the point where society would begin to view her as a spinster if she did not secure a suitable husband.

"I'm well aware of my obligations, Maude," she said, unable to keep a note of irritation from her voice. "But surely there must be more to life than simply finding a respectable man to marry. Don't you ever yearn for something... more?"

Maude's brow furrowed in confusion. "More? What could be more important than securing a good marriage and starting a family?"

Iris sighed, realizing the futility of trying to explain her conflicted feelings to her sister. "Never mind. I'm simply being fanciful, I suppose. Pay me no mind."

As Maude drifted away, no doubt to share the details of Mr. Hartley's visit with their father, Iris found herself once more alone with her thoughts. She made her way to the music room, seating herself at the pianoforte with a sense of restless energy thrumming through her veins .

Her fingers moved over the keys, drawing forth a melody that seemed to echo the tumultuous emotions roiling within her breast. As she played, Iris allowed her mind to wander, imagining what it might be like to truly express herself through music like Lord Thornbrook had.

The piece she played was another of her compositions, though she had never dared to share it with anyone. It was raw and imperfect, lacking the polish of a trained composer, but it spoke of a passion and depth of feeling that surprised even Iris herself.

As the final notes faded, Iris was startled by the sound of quiet applause coming from the doorway. She turned to find her father watching her with pride etched upon his features.

"That was quite remarkable, my dear," the Marquess said, joining her at the instrument. "I don't believe I ever heard that piece before. Pray, who is the composer?"

Iris hesitated, torn between the desire to share her secret with her father and the fear of being judged for her lack of talent. Finally, she took a deep breath and met his gaze squarely.

"It's mine, Papa," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I've been composing in secret for some time now."

The Marquess's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Yours? My dear girl, I had no idea you possessed such talent. Why have you never shared this with us before?"

Iris shrugged, suddenly feeling very small and vulnerable. "I feared you might think it amateurish. After all, it's one thing for a young lady to play the piano, but to compose... well, it's hardly a common pursuit for someone of my station, is it?"

The Marquess was silent for a long moment, thoughtfully examining his daughter. Finally, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Iris, my dear," he said softly, "you must never be afraid to share your gifts with the world. Your music is a part of who you are, and I would never wish you to hide that away out of misplaced insecurities. You are very talented, and I am not simply saying it because I'm your father."

Tears pricked at Iris's eyes as she looked up at her father. "Do you truly mean that, Papa?"

The Marquess nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I do indeed. In fact, I insist that you play for us all after dinner this evening. Your mother and sister must hear this remarkable composition of yours."

As her father left the room, Iris returned to the pianoforte, her heart lighting with joy. For the first time, she allowed herself to imagine a life in which her music might be more than just a secret indulgence.

Vigorously this time, Iris began to play again, her fingers flying over the keys as she poured her hopes, fears, and dreams into the music that bled from her very soul.