Why does it hurt?
Eloise sat at the edge of her bedchamber, her hands clenched tightly in her skirts as she stared at nothing. Her thoughts circled endlessly, refusing to settle, each one pulling her deeper into confusion.
James isnae mine, he never has been, never would be, and yet the sight of him with Mairead has cut me deeply.
She pressed her palm to her chest as though it might steady the ache there.
“I’ve nae right to feel this,” she whispered, though the words did nothing to ease it.
A knock sounded at the door, and she rose quickly, grateful for the distraction.
“Finally, Beatrice,” she called, brushing at her hair. “I’ve been waitin’ for ye to return from yer walk by the river.”
She pulled the door open, and froze. It was not Beatrice.
Mairead stood there, composed and calm, holding a tray with a teapot and two cups.
Eloise’s expression tightened. “Mairead,” she said cautiously.
Mairead dipped her head slightly, her gaze softer than Eloise had ever seen it. “I’ve come to apologize to ye,” she said. “And to explain meself… if ye will have a cup of tea with me.”
Eloise hesitated, her instinct urging her to refuse. She did not want this conversation. And yet… curiosity stirred beneath her resistance.
After a long pause, Eloise stepped back. “Ye may enter,” she said.
Mairead moved inside, setting the tray carefully upon the small table. She poured the tea with steady hands, then offered one cup to Eloise.
“Thank ye,” Eloise said quietly, accepting it.
They sat across from one another, the silence stretching between them as Eloise took a small sip.
Mairead watched her, then folded her hands in her lap. “What happened in the corridor… it was nae James’ fault,” she said gently.
Eloise’s gaze lifted. “Was it nae?” she asked, her tone measured.
Mairead shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “It was mine.” She hesitated, then continued. “I’ve had me heart set on him most of me life.”
Eloise softened slightly at that. “I can understand that,” she said.
“I lost control,” Mairead admitted, her voice tightening. “I thought… if he would only kiss me for the first time, he might see what I’ve always believed, that we belong together.”
Eloise blinked, startled. “Ye have never kissed?” she asked.
Mairead gave a small, sad smile. “Nay,” she said. “We have nae kissed. He has always been a gentleman.”
Eloise studied her, uncertainty flickering in her chest.
Is she speakin’ truth?
Or was this merely an attempt to soften what Eloise had seen? She kept the thought to herself, her expression neutral.
“Go on,” she said quietly.
Mairead drew in a steady breath. “I owe ye an apology,” she said. “For what I did, for how I behaved.” She met Eloise’s gaze fully now. “I am sorry.”
Eloise nodded slowly. “Thank ye,” she said.
Mairead’s lips pressed together briefly before she continued. “I see now that he has made his choice,” she said. “And I must accept it.”
