“Well,” she said, her sharp gaze moving between them, taking in their guilty expressions. “I cannot decide whether to be pleased or concerned that you two have found a way to continue arguing without speaking aloud.”
“Grandmother,” Jasvian began, “we were merely?—”
“Exchanging notes regarding our respective work,” Iris finished smoothly.
Rivenna arched an eyebrow. “Indeed? How very collaborative of you both.” The skepticism in her voice was unmistakable. “In any case, Lady Iris, I require your assistance downstairs. We have received a shipment of specialty tea leaves that need proper cataloging.”
“Of course, Lady Rivenna.” Iris rose, casting a quick look at Jasvian before very deliberately placing what appeared to be a cake fork on the page of the open book nearest to her before shutting it and following his grandmother to the door. As she pulled it closed, she glanced back at him. For just a moment, their eyes met, and he could have sworn he saw a hint of amusement in her gaze.
After they were gone, Jasvian found himself staring at the last paper envelope, his fingers tracing the crisp folds Iris had created with her magic. He should return to his work, now that the distraction had been removed.
Instead, he found himself wondering what retort she might have offered to his next message, had their exchange not been interrupted. Pushing the thought aside, he turned back to the pile of invoices, determined to make progress. But the scent of orange blossom lingered in the air, and the silence that had once been so welcome now felt strangely empty.
Chapter Nineteen
Evening light spilledthrough Iris’s bedroom window, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Iris sat before her vanity as her maid, a quiet human girl named Brenna, made the final adjustments to her hair for the Thornhart Garden Maze Soiree. The girl’s fingers worked carefully, weaving small blossoms through the elaborate arrangement of twists.
Despite Iris’s best efforts to focus on the evening ahead, her thoughts kept drifting back to the study that morning. To folded paper envelopes darting across the room and words appearing via magic on blank pages.
A smile tugged at her lips before she could suppress it, causing Brenna to pause momentarily. “Something amusing, my lady?” she asked, meeting Iris’s eyes in the mirror.
“Nothing of importance,” Iris replied quickly, schooling her features into neutrality. But as Brenna resumed her work, Iris found the smile returning unbidden. The verbal sparring with Lord Jasvian had been … dare she sayenjoyable? No, that couldn’t possibly be the right word. Stimulating, perhaps. Intellectually engaging. Certainly notenjoyable. Not when it involved that brooding, judgmental man.
What had made the exchange even more amusing was her notebook’s inevitable commentary. Lord Jasvian clearly had no idea that his notes were appearing on an enchanted notebook with opinions of its own. The notebook had remained silent during the first few exchanges, but after his message about her unconventional bookmark choices, elegant script had appeared beneath his words:I hardly think this is the appropriate place for Lord Jasvian to reveal he cannot get you off his mind.
Iris had been too busy penning her own replies to acknowledge the notebook’s observation, though she’d felt an unexpected flutter at the thought that the infuriating Lord Jasvian couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her fingers had moved faster across the paper, crafting her response about his attention while pointedly ignoring the notebook’s smug commentary.
Later, after several more exchanges, the notebook had added:I am left somewhat in the dark seeing only one side of this conversation. Do you plan to fill me in later?She’d almost laughed aloud at that. Insufferable notebook, demanding to be kept abreast of their argument as if it were entitled to the full story. Yet she couldn’t deny she’d been tempted to write out the entire exchange that evening, if only to receive the notebook’s undoubtedly cutting assessment of Lord Jasvian’s attempts at wit.
“Perhaps just a few more blossoms, my lady?” Brenna said, stepping back to survey her work with a tilt of her head. “Yes, perhaps two or three more.”
“Oh, yes, if you think so. I trust your judgment.” Iris didn’t want to admit she had not been paying attention, her thoughts still lost in the memory of that curious morning. She had intended to ignore him completely, had even convinced herself it was the sensible approach. Instead, she’d spent far too much time engaged in what was essentially an argument by correspondence, with a sarcastic enchanted notebook providingrunning commentary, and found herself disappointed when Lady Rivenna had interrupted them.
“I’ve heard such fascinating things about the Thornhart maze,” Brenna remarked as she carefully tucked another blossom into Iris’s hair. “Apparently the hedges actually move while you’re walking through the pathways.”
“So I’m told,” Iris replied, grateful for the distraction from her thoughts. “It sounds rather intimidating, doesn’t it? What if one becomes trapped with no way out?”
Brenna smiled reassuringly. “Oh no, my lady. It’s all in good fun. I believe the maze itself is quite simple. And it reads your emotions, they say. If you begin to panic, it will show you the way out.”
“But how can it possibly shift its construction to accommodate everyone within it at once?” Iris wondered aloud. “Surely different people would need different pathways.”
Brenna merely shrugged, adding the final blossom to Iris’s hair. “Well, that’s magic, I suppose. It doesn’t need to make sense to work beautifully.”
A firm knock at the door interrupted them.
“Enter,” Iris called, her eyes flicking to the door’s reflection in the mirror before her. Her grandmother appeared in the doorway, elegant as ever in a gown of deep green silk. “Grandmother,” Iris said, surprise coloring her tone as she turned to face her. “Apologies for keeping you waiting. I’m almost?—”
“There is no rush. Your grandfather is seeing to the final arrangements with the carriage.” Her grandmother’s gaze shifted to Brenna. “That will be all for now. I shall assist Lady Iris with the finishing touches.”
“Yes, my lady.” Brenna curtseyed and slipped from the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Iris felt herself tense slightly. She couldn’t recall ever being alone in a room with her grandmother. What could possibly have prompted this unexpected appearance?
Her grandmother moved to the window, adjusting the curtain slightly before turning back to face her. “How are you finding the season thus far, Iris? Your conversation with Lord Hadrian Blackbriar in the park seemed quite animated. Did you feel there might be a connection worth pursuing there?”
Iris hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “He is easy to converse with, to be sure. He seems genuine in his interest and kind in his manner. But it’s possibly too early to determine if there might be something more substantial between us.”
“True. Perhaps you will see him tonight at the Thornharts’ soiree.” Her grandmother’s gaze moved over Iris’s appearance. “You look lovely, my dear. That shade suits you.”
