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“Eloise, I want to speak to you,” her father called, appearing in the drawing room later that afternoon.
Eloise was drinking tea and had just finished writing her letters. Her father’s face was stern, and he was holding a letter in his hand, which now he held out to her.
“Who’s it from?” Eloise asked, as she took it and began to read.
“Lord Crawford. He writes in protest of your appalling treatment of him last night and informs me you were seen by his sisters in the park today, behaving scandalously with the Duke of Kenwood,” he replied.
The letter said as much and reminded the Viscount of his promise to offer Eloise’s hand in marriage to Lord Crawford.
“We were walking in the park. That was all. His two horrible sisters followed us. It’s not my fault they fell in the water,” she defended.
Her father looked at her curiously. The letter had not mentioned Penelope’s and Claudia’s humiliation.
“Fell in the water?” he prompted, and Eloise explained what had happened.
“They were being so horrible, Father. Why should I put up with it? You told me I could marry whomsoever I chose, as long as I did so by the end of the season. Well, why not the Duke of Kenwood? He possesses every quality you could wish for, an aristocrat of title and good fortune. He is kind and considerate, and quite the opposite of that horrible man, Lord Crawford. Can’t you see? He only wants to possess me, that’s all,” she stressed, and her father shook his head.
“I’m wary of this match, Eloise. There’s something not right about it,” he said, and Eloise sighed.
“And there’s something not right about a man who would ill-treat a woman as Lord Crawford did and consider her merely an object for his own gain. I don’t like him, and I don’t want to marry him.” She tossed the letter aside and folded her arms, staring at her father defiantly.
Her father sighed and shook his head.
“And if this courtship comes to nothing? What then?” he demanded.
Eloise shook her head. She knew the courtship would bear fruit. It was all arranged. The charade was working, and soon the whole of London society would be talking about the forthcoming marriage of the Duke of Kenwood to Miss Eloise Snowden.
“Why do you think that, Father? You’ve not even given him a chance. We have hardly known him,” Eloise said.
But that fact was the Achilles’ heel in all of this. She knew nothing about Jackson. He was an unknown entity, and she had only his word to judge him by. He had spoken of an uncle, and she presumed there was an estate to his name. But as for the details, they were still to be revealed.
“Precisely. We hardly know him. We don’t know his true intentions,” her father replied.
But Eloise was far more willing to trust Jackson’s perceived intentions than give way to Lord Crawford’s certain ones. Jackson’s explanation had been clear, and Eloise was willing to take a risk – not only for herself but for her sister, too.
“He told me he’ll help me look for Alice,” Eloise added.
She knew these words would make her father angry. He had already made his opinion clear on that matter. He shook his head and clenched his fists.
“How many times must I tell you, Eloise? I want this nonsense to stop. You won’t find your sister. She’s gone, and that’s all there is to it.” He banged his fist down angrily on the nearest table.
Eloise shook her head. She was not about to accept her father’s words. Her sister was missing, but she was not gone, and Eloise would never stop searching for her.
“I want to know what happened to her. Even if she’s dead, I want to know it,” Eloise dared.
Her father scowled at her. She remained convinced he knew more than he had told her in the past. Something was missing. Some clue she had still to find. But whatever it was and wherever it was, Eloise would not stop searching until she had found it.
“It’s been ten years, Eloise. Ten years since she disappeared. You’ve got to move on. You’ve to put her out of your mind. Won’t marriage do that? If you’re to marry the Duke of Kenwood, he’s not going to allow you to continue your futile search!” her father exclaimed.
“He’s already promised me he will. He knows all about my search. I wrote to him once, some years ago, and though he knew nothing, he was sympathetic to my cause. Why don’t you want to find her, Father?” she pressed.
It was a question Eloise had long pondered, though one she knew would make her father angry. He had never even attempted to find Alice and had accepted her disappearance as though a horse had bolted, or a dog escaped its kennels. Now, he looked at her and sighed.
“She ran away, Eloise. What was the point in searching for her? To bring her back would only cause her further heartache. Haven’t you ever thought about that? Perhaps she doesn’t want to be found. Perhaps she’s quite happy where she is, wherever that might be,” he argued, and turning on his heels, he marched out of the room.
Eloise fought back the tears. Her father’s words had cut through her like a knife. What if Alice did not want to be found? It was an awful possibility, one which Eloise could hardly bear to contemplate. But the possibility was stark. Alice had left no note, no indication of why she had run away. She had just disappeared, and that was that. Eloise had always assumed – or tried to believe – that her sister wanted to be found, and that at some point, she would be. Eloise could not bear the thought of her sister not wanting to see her again, or of intentionally putting a distance between them.
“She wants to be found. I know she does,” she told herself, as tears rolled down her cheeks.
