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“My Lady, should I get His Grace?” Fenella muttered.
“No need,” James lifted a hand toward the young maid, “Though I shall speak to the man myself once this farce is over. Now off you go, scuttle away, little girl.”
Eloise gave a slight nod to Fenella, assuring her it was okay. No use bothering him when he had made his position quite clear, she thought.
Before Eloise had the chance to pull away or protest, he dragged her forcefully toward the front gate. She was pulled outside as the cold penetrated her skin through the thinness of her gown. There wasn’t a speck of snow falling from the sky, but the chillness was the same as before. She had been in the Castle for more than seven days now, but it felt so unnatural to be away from it and away from Simon. It certainly didn’t feel right.
He continued pulling her through a straight narrow path, his grip only loosening when she showed no desire to object. Squinting her eyes to see where he was taking her, she caught a glimpse of the raven carriage awaiting them just outside the streets, the coachman holding a cigar in his hands and patiently waiting. They stood outside of it for a moment longer. Until the coachman finally opened the door.
They each stepped inside the carriage, the left side of it drooping slightly from the sudden weight. Her hand was finally set free, though his handprints had lined on her skin. She curled close to the carriage window, pushing the curtain aside so she could watch outside; the snow was yet to melt away, but the streets were clear and a lot easier to navigate compared to a few days ago.
“Were you hurt?” he asked, catching her attention.
“What? Oh—” she ran her hand against the bandage. “Oh, it’s nothing, I just fell a few days ago.”
“Hmmm, it looks serious to me. I will have a word with that blackguard of a Duke for treating you in such a manner. Disgraceful. You must have been so relieved when I arrived. Were you mistreated here?” asked James.
Eloise shook her head automatically. “No, I was treated with the utmost respect. Everyone was lovely to me. There’s no need—” But Eloise bit her tongue, preventing herself from saying more. The last thing she needed right now was an argument with James too.
“Still, being away from your family must be horrible. And the Duke doesn’t hold the reputation of a gentleman either.”
Eloise once again chose silence. Though Simon had been standoffish and extremely rude in their final moments together, over the last week he had been nothing but respectful to her. A particular memory of the time they spent dancing together tugged a faint smile across her cheeks.
What changed? Was it all really one big game to you? Was the story of your past even true?
“It didn’t snow much in London, you know,” James started, breaking her from her thoughts.
“Oh, it didn’t? That’s odd.”
“Peculiar, right,” he paused. “But I suppose it’s good for our marriage—won’t have to keep the ceremony restricted to an indoor affair.”
“Our…?”
“Our marriage, yes.” He studied her features closely. She had no way of knowing how she must have looked as she lost all control and composure of her expression and emotions. “Has your aunt not already told you?”
Her fingers suddenly trembled as she intertwined them together to repress their shaking. The word marriage stung in a way she would have least expected. “I never gave my consent,” Eloise snapped. “Does Uncle Marcus even know about this?”
James’ eyes darkened, and his eyebrows furrowed. She’d never seen him look this way before, except the time he chased her at the ball.
“We don’t need—”
“I don’t want to marry you. You’re a horrible person! I saw what you did at the ball. I saw you, James,” she continued, “you were kissing a lady while pretending to court me with your words of sweet nothings. No, this marriage won’t go ahead. I would much prefer marrying that rogue Simon than even consider marrying—”
“Stop speaking!” His pale face quickly turned red in anger as Eloise realized what she had said. He raised his hand in the air, ready to strike her. All Eloise could do was flinch, remaining tensed as she waited for the blow to come her way. “That was you, at the ball?”
His voice quickly changed to quiet and calm, though his face and gestures claimed otherwise. She refused to be intimidated by him, though her pulse thundered so loudly, she could only assume he, too, felt it. She felt like a fool. In her eyes, James was a charming and kind man who would never dare raise his voice or mistreat anyone. But as she sat here, across him, her eyes sparkled with tears at her possible nightmarish future.
“Yes, and—”
“And you think that somehow the revelation of this information will call off the marriage? Open your eyes, Your Ladyship. Nobody wants you. Your Aunt is practically throwing you at me, don’t you think she already knew about all of this? Oh, my darling, you truly are naïve.”
“What are you trying to say,” said Eloise.
“You’re nothing, Eloise,” he said. She shuddered at the way he uttered her name. “Right from your debut, your own family has tried to offload you to the most convenient suitor. And now, after years of no luck, your aunt was practically chewing my hand off to take you in with the promise of inheritance and a large dowry.”
“No, that just isn’t true. I know my aunt, she wouldn’t sell me for—”
“Oh, but she already has. And if you refuse to marry me, I’ll tell everyone where you’ve been living for over a week—you know the Duke’s reputation. All it takes is one rumor, and I’m sure you’re well-aware of how news like this spreads.”
