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“Yes, My Lady?”
“Have you ever…kissed someone?” Eloise asked.
Upon finding it impossible to suppress the memories of that night, Eloise finally gave in to all the overwhelming intrigue she was feeling. The masked man had sparked a new desire she didn’t know she possessed, and she was desperate to uncover his identity, even if it required attending every ball this coming Summer season.
Unless she was forced to marry James first.
No, don’t think like that. I’m sure it’ll all go away when James voices his disapproval.
“Yes, My Lady. But only once, some years ago.”
“How did it…feel?” Eloise blushed at her own words.
“I loved the man, so it was something very dear to me. Did you kiss someone, My Lady?” Letitia snapped a hand in front of her mouth, feeling the shock of her words. “My apologies! I didn’t mean to sound—”
“Oh, please, don’t worry! It was an odd question, so I understand the reaction.” Eloise smiled to assure her everything was all right. “I think I did kiss someone,” she finally said. “But it felt like a dream.”
“Sometimes the best things feel like dreams, My Lady.”
That could make sense, Eloise concluded. Perhaps her experience with the masked man was a dream, one she, unfortunately, awoke from and one that had spiked her curiosity in unexplainable ways. Her thoughts surrounded the way he had touched her leg, the way he wrapped his hand around her waist, and the way his still voice—No. This was so much more than simple curiosity. It was madness.
Letitia noticed the silence, and after a few moments, said, “My Lady, pardon me, but the steward has called for me.”
“That’s all right. Please, attend to your duties.”
Letitia left the room, shutting the door behind her. Eloise turned back to her thoughts, biting her lip at the rousing recollections of the ball. The manor was silent now, and Aunt’s panicked voice no longer coursed through the walls.
Soon, she exited her chambers, stepping through the hallway. Upon descending the stairs and arriving at the entrance hall, the realization hit her; it was empty. Except for the maids, who, the moment they noticed Eloise’s presence, widened their eyes as if they’d spotted a wraith.
Eloise suspected something was wrong right then—had they forgotten about her? It wasn’t unusual for them to neglect or ignore her, but forgetting her at home was something even she hadn’t experienced before. Her stomach churned in embarrassment. It wasn’t the thought of remaining here that hurt her, that’s what she wanted after all, but it was the actions of her so-called family. Was she so insignificant to them?
“M-my Lady? You’re…still here?” one of the maids asked as she ran to her side. There was panic residing in her tanned face.
“Did my Aunt leave?”
Another maid stood by them, listening on uneasily. If there was one thing they each had in common, it was their fear of Aunt Alexandra and her temper when things didn’t go as planned. “They left but a few minutes ago, My Lady. Should we notify His Lordship?”
“No, don’t do that!” the first maid yelled. “Apologies, My Lady.”
There was a long pause, where the maids debated among themselves, trying to decide how best to handle the situation. Eloise, however, was already over it—if they happened to forget about her, then she was more than content to remain here.
But soon, the door to a nearby room thundered open and heavy footsteps followed. It was Uncle Marcus.
His frail body was hunched, supported merely by his walking stick as a few coughs rattled in his throat. He was ill, but he was also growing older day by day, which only worsened his condition. His graying hair remained regal, only thinning at the very top, and despite nearing the age of sixty, there were only a few wrinkles on his face.
Uncle Marcus was like a guardian to Eloise. After Eloise’s mother—Uncle’s sister—passed, he promised he would take her in and care for her as his own. And he was also the only one who kept his promise, supporting Eloise every step of the way.
“What is the meaning of all this commotion?” He stepped into the entrance hall, staring sternly at the panicked maids. He stepped even closer to Eloise, extending his arms for a fatherly hug.
“You look delightful,” he paused. “Look at you…just like your mother.”
Eloise grew teary. Uncle Marcus always had the right words to say. After she pulled away from his embrace, he turned to the maids.
“I suppose there is a good explanation why my daughter isn’t on her way to the evening dinner?” His voice was loud and firm, not leaving room for any excuses.
“It’s not their fault, papa. I decided not to go—it was simply a last-minute decision, is all.”
He raised a bushy eyebrow, seeing straight through her lie. “Nonsense. You’ll go and enjoy your time just like your Aunt and cousins will.” He turned to the staff, who were still frozen. “Prepare the spare carriage at once.”
