9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

T he morning of Iris's first music lesson with Lord Thornbrook had finally arrived. The young lady had barely slept, her mind filled with musical notes and the memory of stormy grey eyes. As she dressed, her fingers trembled slightly, fumbling with the delicate buttons of her pale pink gown.

Downstairs, her parents were having breakfast and conversing, seemingly unaware of the significance the day held for their youngest daughter. Lady Iris inhaled deeply as she took her place at the table. Her fingers brushed the locket resting at her throat, seeking comfort in the familiar weight and warmth against her skin.

Her thoughts were already racing ahead to the afternoon's music lesson with Lord Thornbrook. She pushed her eggs around her plate, her appetite diminished by the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Lady Rosier's voice cut through Iris's thoughts. "Iris, you've been staring at your plate for the past five minutes. What's the matter with you? "

Iris was startled, realizing she had indeed been lost in her own world. "No, Mama, nothing's troubling me. I was just... thinking about my lesson today."

Lady Rosier's brow furrowed. "Ah yes, your lesson with Lord Thornbrook. I hope you're not getting too... invested in this arrangement."

"Mama, please," Iris said, irritation in her voice. "It's just a music lesson. There's no need to worry."

Maude, who was sitting next to Iris, gave her sister's hand a gentle squeeze. "It's your first lesson. No wonder you're distracted."

"Thank you, sister. I... I want to compose something special for your wedding. Something that truly expresses my love for you."

Maude's eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her lips. "Oh, Iris! That's so thoughtful of you. I had no idea."

Iris felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "Well, it's just an idea at the moment. I have a basic melody in mind, but I need Lord Thornbrook's guidance to truly bring it to life."

Lady Rosier's expression softened slightly. "Please, Iris, do be careful. Men like Lord Thornbrook..."

"Will be kept at a proper distance," Iris assured her mother. "Lucy will be with me at all times. You needn't worry, Mama."

Lord Rosier nodded, a proud smile tugging at his lips. "Well, my dear, I wish you the best of luck. Your dedication to music is admirable."

As breakfast concluded, Lady Rosier pulled Lucy aside. Iris couldn't hear their conversation, but she could see her mother's serious expression as she spoke to the maid. No doubt, she was issuing strict instructions about propriety and vigilance.

Iris retreated to her room. She paced the length of the chamber, pausing occasionally to straighten a book on her shelf or adjust the curtains. Her fingers itched to touch the keys of the pianoforte, to practice one last time before meeting Lord Thornbrook, but she feared the sound would only heighten her nerves.

Instead, she sat at her writing desk, pulling out the sheet music for her sister's wedding composition. As she hummed the melody softly to herself, she made notations in the margins, ideas for embellishments and harmonies dancing through her mind.

A soft knock at her door startled her. She looked up to see Lucy entering with a tray of tea and biscuits. "Thought you might need a little sustenance before your lesson, My Lady," the maid said with a kind smile.

Iris returned the smile gratefully, realizing she had worked through the lunch hour without noticing. As she sipped her tea, she felt a little calmer.

Afterward, she gathered her sheet music and made her way downstairs. Maude was waiting for her in the foyer. Their eyes met.

"Iris, wait. I... I wanted to talk to you before you left."

Iris paused, noting the concern in her sister's eyes. "What is it, Maude?"

Maude bit her lip, hesitating. "I just wanted to thank you again for what you're doing. Composing a piece for my wedding means so much to me."

"Of course, Maude. You know I'd do anything for you."

"I understand, and that is precisely what concerns me," Maude said softly. "Iris, I am well aware of your feelings for Lord Thornbrook, but I fear you are becoming too deeply entangled."

Iris felt her cheeks flush. "Maude, I assure you, it's nothing like that. This is purely about music."

"Is it?" Maude pressed. "Because from where I'm standing, it seems like there's more to it. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"You're imagining things," Iris insisted, though her voice lacked conviction. "I told you. My fascination has nothing to do with…whatever you're implying. In any case, Lord Thornbrook doesn't reciprocate it. He is merely my teacher."

Maude sighed. "I want to believe you, Iris, but you worry me. Your encounter with him when we went for a walk, asking Lucy to collect information on him, and now these lessons. Just... be careful, please?"

Iris looked away, feeling as if she'd been caught doing something terrible. "I appreciate your worry, Maude, but there's nothing to fear. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Maude asked gently. "Because sometimes I think you're so caught up in the moment that you can't see the danger."

Iris paused, considering her sister's words. "Perhaps you're right that I admire him more than I should, but I promise you, Maude, I won't let it interfere with my judgment."

Maude nodded, though she still looked unconvinced. "I hope you're right, Iris. I just don't want something bad to happen to you."

"Nothing will happen," Iris assured her, squeezing her hand. "Now, I really must go. I don't want to be late."

Iris pondered Maude's words as she approached the waiting carriage. It wasn't long before the imposing fa?ade of Thornbrook Manor came into view. Iris's breath caught in her throat as she took in the grand structure. The gardens surrounding the house were a riot of color, a stark contrast to the austerity of the building itself.

As they alighted from the carriage, Iris smoothed her gown once more, her hands trembling slightly.

"Remember, My Lady," Lucy murmured, "we must comport ourselves with the utmost propriety."

Iris nodded, her eyes wide as she took in their surroundings. "Of course, Lucy. I'll not leave your side for a moment."

The heavy oak door swung open, revealing a stern-faced butler who regarded them with a raised eyebrow. "Lady Iris Rosier and companion, I presume?"

Iris nodded, willing her voice to remain steady. "Yes, indeed. We are expected by Lord Thornbrook for a music lesson."

The butler's expression didn't change as he stepped aside to allow them entry. "This way, if you please, My Lady."

As they followed the butler through the grand hallway, Iris's eyes darted about, drinking in every detail. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, interspersed with portraits of stern-faced ancestors. Their footsteps echoed on the marble floor, seeming to announce their presence to the walls themselves.

At last, they reached a set of double doors. The butler rapped smartly upon the wood before announcing, "Lady Iris Rosier and companion, My Lord."

The doors swung open, revealing a room that took Iris's breath away. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating a space that seemed dedicated entirely to the worship of music. Instruments of all kinds adorned the walls and corners, but at the center of it stood a magnificent grand pianoforte, its polished surface gleaming like black glass.

And there, seated at the instrument, was Lord Horatio Ainsworth himself.

He rose as they entered, his stormy eyes fixing upon Iris with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

"Lady Iris," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. "How good of you to be punctual."

Iris curtsied, willing her voice to remain steady. "My Lord. I thank you for agreeing to these lessons. "

Lord Thornbrook's gaze flickered to Lucy, who stood respectfully behind Iris. "And this must be your chaperone. How reassuring."

Lucy bobbed a curtsy, her eyes wide as she took in the opulent surroundings.

"Shall we begin?" Lord Thornbrook asked, gesturing towards the pianoforte. "I'm curious to see if your skills extend beyond the merely ‘passable.'"

Iris felt a flush rise to her cheeks at the reminder of his earlier assessment. She moved to the instrument, seating herself with as much grace as she could muster. Lord Thornbrook stood beside her.

"We'll start with scales," he said, his tone businesslike. "Let's see how your fingering technique has progressed since I last heard you play."

She caught Lucy settling herself in a corner of the room, her watchful gaze never leaving the pair. For a moment, Iris felt a pang of frustration at the necessary presence of her chaperone. There was so much she longed to say to Lord Thornbrook, so many questions she yearned to ask, but propriety demanded restraint, so she simply nodded.

As Iris began to play, her concentration wavered. Lord Thornbrook's proximity was intoxicating, and the scent of sandalwood filled her senses. She stumbled over a simple run, her fingers tangling clumsily.

"No, no," Lord Thornbrook said, a hint of impatience coloring his voice. "Like this." He leaned over her, his hands covering hers on the keys. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through Iris, her breath catching in her throat.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Iris was acutely aware of every point of contact between them—his chest nearly touching her back, his breath warm against her ear. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the moment passed. Lord Thornbrook stepped back, clearing his throat.

"Try again," he said, his voice gruffer than before.

Iris nodded, unable to trust her voice. She began the scale once more, this time executing it flawlessly. As she played, she felt something shift in the atmosphere of the room. Lord Thornbrook's critiques became less biting, and his praise became more frequent.

"You've been practicing," he observed as she completed a particularly challenging passage. "Perhaps there's hope for you yet, Lady Iris."

Iris felt a warm glow of pride at his words. "Thank you, My Lord. I've been most diligent in my preparations."

As the lesson progressed, Iris found herself relaxing into the music. Lord Thornbrook's guidance was firm but fair, and his passion for art was evident in every instruction. They moved from scales to more complex pieces, their hands occasionally brushing as they turned pages or reached for the same keys.

Each accidental touch sent a thrill through Iris, leaving her flustered and breathless. She caught Lord Thornbrook watching her repeatedly, his stormy eyes unreadable. The music they created together seemed to take on a life of its own, filling the room with a passionate intensity that left Iris both exhilarated and overwhelmed.

"Now," Lord Thornbrook said, pulling out a music sheet, "let us attempt something more challenging. Are you familiar with Bach's Concerto No. 5 in F minor?"

Iris nodded, her eyes scanning the complex notes before her. "I've heard it performed, My Lord, but I've never attempted it myself."

A ghost of a smile played about Lord Thornbrook's lips. "Then consider this your baptism by fire, Lady Iris. Begin."

As Iris's fingers danced across the keys, she felt herself transported to another world. The music flowed through her, each note showcasing the passion and skill of its composer. Lord Thornbrook stood beside her, his presence both intimidating and inspiring.

"More feeling in the allegro," he instructed, his voice low and intense. "Let the music speak through you, Lady Iris. Don't simply play the notes—feel them."

Iris closed her eyes, allowing the melody to wash over her. She thought of the joy she felt when playing, the freedom music gave her from the constraints of society. Her fingers moved confidently, coaxing a rich, emotional sound from the instrument.

When she finished, there was a moment of silence. Iris opened her eyes to find Lord Thornbrook regarding her with an unreadable expression.

"Well," he said at last, "it seems I may have underestimated you, Lady Iris. That was... surprisingly competent."

Coming from Lord Thornbrook, Iris knew this was high praise indeed. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks, pleasure warming her from within. "Thank you, My Lord. Your guidance is invaluable."

Lord Thornbrook's eyes met hers, and for a moment, Iris felt as though she could see beyond his usual mask of cool indifference. There was a warmth there, a flicker of something that made her heart race.

"My Lord," Iris began, her voice soft, "I wonder if I might seek your advice on a personal matter."

Lord Thornbrook raised an eyebrow, curiosity evident in his expression. "Oh? And what matter might that be, Lady Iris?"

Iris took a deep breath, steeling herself. "My sister Maude is to be married soon. As you know, I wish to compose a piece for her wedding. I deeply wish to express my love and best wishes for her future happiness, but I fear my melody lacks the depth of feeling I want to convey. "

For a moment, Lord Thornbrook was silent, his expression unreadable. Then, to Iris's surprise, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I hope to guide you in this noble endeavor, Lady Iris. It is a challenging one, but one I welcome. Composing is no easy task, even for those with years of experience."

"I thank you, My Lord," Iris's cheeks flushed.

Lord Thornbrook regarded her thoughtfully. "Very well. Let us hear this melody of yours."

With trembling fingers, Iris began to play the simple tune she had crafted for Maude. It was a sweet, tender melody filled with her love for her sister. As she played, she could feel Lord Thornbrook's intense gaze upon her.

When she finished, she looked up at him expectantly. Lord Thornbrook's expression was thoughtful, his fingers tapping lightly against his leg as if playing an invisible instrument.

"It has potential," he said at last. "But it needs work. The emotion is there, but the structure is lacking. The structure will facilitate the depth of feeling you seek. We shall work on it in our future lessons."

Iris felt her heart soar at his words. "Thank you, My Lord. Your assistance means more to me than I can express."

All too soon, the chiming of the clock on the mantelpiece signaled the end of their lesson. Lord Thornbrook stepped back, his expression once again inscrutable. "It seems our time is at an end, Lady Iris. You've made progress today. Continue practicing as you have been, and I believe we may see some real improvement."

Iris rose from the pianoforte, feeling a pang of regret that the lesson was over. "Thank you, My Lord. I look forward to our next lesson."

She was about to leave when Lord Thornbrook reached into his coat pocket. "Before you go," he said, his voice low, "some instructions for your practice." He held out a sealed note, his fingers brushing against hers as she took it. The contact, brief as it was, sent a quiver through Iris.

"Thank you, My Lord," she murmured, clutching the note tightly.

"Also, I must admit, I'm rather intrigued by your insistence on taking lessons from me. Most young ladies of your station would run screaming from the mere thought of being in the same room as the notorious Lord Thornbrook. Undoubtedly, more... conventional tutors are available to someone of your standing."

"But none are as talented nor as conveniently located as yourself, My Lord," Iris blushed.

The short journey back to Rosewood Manor seemed to pass in an instant, yet paradoxically, each moment stretched into eternity. Iris sat rigidly in the carriage, her mind replaying every nuance of the lesson—Lord Thornbrook's intense gaze, the warmth of his hands as he corrected her fingering, the rich timbre of his voice. Beside her, Lucy chattered excitedly about the grandeur of Thornbrook Manor, but her words went through Iris unheard.

As the carriage pulled up to Rosewood Manor, Iris felt a sudden urgency. She needed solitude and time to process whatever the lesson had stirred within her. More than anything, she yearned to read the note Lord Thornbrook had pressed into her hand at their parting.

"Lucy," Iris said, cutting off the maid's animated description of the music room's tapestries, "I'm feeling rather fatigued. Would you mind informing my parents that I've retired for the rest of the afternoon?"

Lucy's brow furrowed with concern. "Of course, My Lady. Are you sure you're quite well?"

"Perfectly well," Iris assured her, already stepping down from the carriage. "Just in need of rest. Thank you, Lucy."

Without waiting for a response, Iris hurried into the house. She climbed the stairs two at a time, her heart pounding. Reaching her bedchamber, she closed the door firmly behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she caught her breath. Then, with trembling fingers, she withdrew Lord Thornbrook's note from her reticule.

Breaking the seal, Iris unfolded the paper with bated breath. Lord Thornbrook's bold, elegant script filled the page:

" Lady Iris,

Your performance today was surprisingly adequate. You've managed to elevate your skills from merely "passable" to "somewhat competent."

Regarding your composition for your sister's wedding, I suggest you focus on developing the middle section. While saccharine enough to suit the occasion, your current melody lacks depth. Consider incorporating a contrasting theme—perhaps something that speaks to the complexities of love and marriage rather than mere sentimentality.

I'm most eager to hear your revised version at our next lesson. Perhaps you'll manage to surprise me again.

Lord Horatio Ainsworth

P.S. I find myself wondering about your motivations, Lady Iris. Is it truly just the music that draws you here? Or is there something more? Your eyes betray a curiosity that extends beyond mere musical instruction. Be careful. Curiosity can be dangerous, especially when directed towards men with reputations such as mine.

And yet... I find myself intrigued. A fire in you, Lady, is hidden beneath your proper exterior. What might happen if you let it burn freely? But such musings are hardly appropriate for a music lesson, are they? Until next time, my unexpectedly interesting pupil.

Iris read the note several times, her cheeks flushing with pleasure at his words. The subtle hints of his growing regard for her talents thrilled her. She clutched the paper tightly to her chest.

She knew she was treading dangerous ground, her growing feelings for Lord Thornbrook a perilous path that could lead to heartache or scandal.

And yet, as she closed her eyes, the memory of Lord Thornbrook's touch still lingered on her skin. The note remained clutched tightly to her chest, a tangible link to the man who had so thoroughly captured her imagination.