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Chapter 15
Eloise stood rooted in an empty corridor, tapping her foot on the carpet, contemplating her next move. And whether she should look for Simon—see if he was indeed all right. She might have known him for just a few days, but she could tell from the way his eyes flickered, and his nerves took hold of him that he was far from his usual self.
Deep down, she did wish to seek him out, talk to him, even comfort him. But it wasn’t her business, really. Well, she…she didn’t want to step out of turn, have Simon shoo her away, ask her to leave him be. After how close she had got to him, she wasn’t sure she could handle his rejection. She could ask the servants, perhaps Fenella, if he was better by the morning and if not, then she could try to find out more somehow.
Yes. That’s what I’ll do.
Upon reaching a satisfying conclusion to bed her worries, she shifted her mind to a different task.
Going door by door down the brightly lit corridor, she looked out for Walter. According to Sally, he should have arrived by now and would either be laboring away at the Game Larder or gathering supplies from a storage room by the west wing of the castle. After confirming he was not at the former, she made her way across to the so-called west wing, with the direction of servants and maids she had encountered on the way.
“My apologies, but have you seen Walter?” Eloise asked an unnaturally tall servant whose back hunched like an arched gate.
“No, apologies, My Lady,” the servant replied, returning back to her duty and dusting the portraits on the wall.
Eloise pushed forward, storming each room uninvited and unattended, feeling a sudden urge to escape the Castle. The drumming of wind and racketing of hail felt as though it had abated over the course of the day, giving Eloise a newfound hope of making it back in time before that…ill-fated dinner planned on her behalf.
“Walter? Just passed him moments ago ‘eading up to that make-do granary he’s built. Damn kid, throwin’ grist about everywhere,” a male servant said, his voice loud and husky, “just down this hall, up the staircase, and take two rights from there. Matter a’ fact, just follow this seed trail. It’ll be impossible to miss…My Lady.”
“Thank you,” she smiled as widely and warmly as possible.
The man only grunted in return, stepping out of view and disappearing out of sight. Walter seemed to have a reputation with the staff here, it was the third time just asking for him had evoked such a reaction. She shook her head, following the directions and thinking back to the plan at hand.
She had tried to plan it out thoroughly. Having only ridden a horse a handful of times in her early childhood—before it was deemed unbecoming by Aunt Alexandra, she now banked on the stable boy’s experience as a rider to see her through this storm. And hopefully, she could pick back up from where she had left off as a child.
Her hands touched the cool tapestries as she edged to the end of the hall, humming in deliberation. She momentarily halted, her heeled shoes no longer clicking through the hallway. Tracing a finger against her lips, her mind momentarily traveled back to the night before, the dance, the…kiss. It was her second-ever kiss.
It is not your business. He wants to be by himself, he’s made it quite clear, don’t be a nuisance now.
She forcibly marched on, and up a spiral staircase as the servant had foretold. But a muffled sound of distress quickly slowed her steps. Her head perked up, eyes widening. It sounded like Simon, and it was coming down a dreary passageway to her left.
Without a second thought, she spurred into action. Bolting down the narrow corridor, side-stepping some cobwebs, then stepping over a loose floor plank, until she reached closer to the origin of the sound.
“Simon?” she said quietly at first, into the empty corridor. Another noise, this time the sound of bottles clinking, reached her ears.
Looking through the gap of a crooked, low-hanging door, the stench of alcohol reached her nostrils. Afraid of what she would witness, she opened the door wider, bit by bit. But then gasped at the sight that beheld her.
It was Simon. Slouched against a wall, knees to his chest, and head in hand, with a bottle in the other. His neat clothes were wrinkled, coat tossed to the side of the dim room, and his usually pulled-back hair now falling over his eyes, masking half his face. He threw the empty bottle to the side alongside a dozen others—maybe more, grabbing yet another one and gulping it down without forethought.
Eloise took a careful step inside the disordered room. The scene was quite upsetting, and though she had only known Simon for just a few days, she almost felt sorry for him, immediately recognizing how he must have felt.
It was the same as she felt after finding James with another Lady at the season ball—a feeling of desperation and loneliness. And when she needed it most, a stranger had sat by her through it all, helping her in her time of need. So without a word, she walked over to him, slouching against the wall beside him, shoulder to shoulder.
Simon finally looked up, a blank expression painting his face. “Don’t worry, attending to me wasn’t part of our deal, you can go,” he said, roughly.
She rolled her eyes, pulling her knees to her chest too, and turning her head to face him. “Is it really too difficult to believe that I care about you?”
“So, did I win the wager after all?” he asked, and Eloise shook her head in frustration.
“For once, can we just speak like normal people, instead of…whatever this is, please? ” she asked.
“Why?”
“I already told you,” Eloise sighed deeply, “I care about you.”
Simon placed his head back against the wall, groaning and reaching for another bottle of whatever he was so desperately trying to drown out his consciousness in. But right before he could put the bottle to his lips, Eloise grabbed it from him, drawing it to her lips and drinking it all down in one go as he watched on.
She tossed it to the side, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
