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“You care for the classics, My Lord? I see you have several statues about the place,” Eloise asked, as they sat down at the table.
“I find the Greeks inspiring. A civilization which knew what power was,” the Baron replied.
Eloise did not particularly care for the idea. She imagined it to be the sort of thing Lord Crawford himself might say, and she was glad to be distracted by the arrival of the first course, a soup served in a large silver tureen.
“We’re going to attend the Midsummer Ball on Friday, Uncle,” Jackson put in, as they ate their soup.
This was the first Eloise had heard of it, but she tried not to show her surprise. The Midsummer Ball was a highlight of the Season. It was said that if a woman had not found a suitable match by then, she would have to wait for the next Season to do so. The ball was a chance for new courting couples to show themselves in public and offer no doubt as to their future intentions. If Eloise and Jackson were seen together at the Midsummer Ball, and if their performance there was convincing, then there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind as to what was to come between them.
“Yes, I’m so looking forward to it. My father says he’ll buy me a new dress for the occasion,” Eloise quickly put in.
“The Midsummer Ball. I’ve not been to it in years. Perhaps I’ll be persuaded. Is this to be a moment of announcement for you both?” The Baron paused from his soup and looked up.
“I wouldn’t presume anything, Uncle. Not until the right moment,” Jackson responded.
He was sitting opposite Eloise, and his uncle was at the head of the table. As the empty soup bowls were cleared and a large side of beef was brought in on a silver platter, Eloise felt a sudden movement against her ankle. It was Jackson’s foot, gently stroking the side of her leg. Eloise was wearing only ball slippers that evening, and the flesh of her ankles was exposed. She almost gasped at his touch before realizing what was happening and composing herself. The Duke gave no indication on his face as to what he was doing and helped himself to vegetables from a large dish as he continued to converse with his uncle.
“These things shouldn’t be delayed, Jackson. If you’re intent on marrying, then so be it,” his uncle urged.
“I’d need to ask Eloise’s father for permission after asking Eloise, of course.” Jackson glanced across at Eloise with a smile.
Their feet were now entwined in what could only be described as a passionate embrace. Eloise’s heart was beating fast, even as she tried her best to maintain a calm demeanor as a footman offered her the dish of vegetables.
“Thank you,” she said, helping herself to greens.
“Do you think you’ll ever find your sister?” the Baron asked, fixing Eloise with a searching gaze.
Jackson drew his foot back, and Eloise raised her napkin to her mouth and dabbed the sides.
“I… well, I pray for it, and I don’t ever lose hope,” she said.
There was no other response she could give. Her sister’s disappearance overshadowed her life. Every day, every moment, her loss was felt. She was a part of Eloise, and that part was missing. Eloise would never be whole until Alice was found.
“But do you believe she’ll be found? It’s been ten years,” the Baron persisted in his interrogation.
Jackson glanced warily at Eloise, but she was used to such questioning, from her father, no less, so she drew herself up and nodded.
“With all my heart, I believe one day she’ll walk through the door, and we’ll be reunited, and we can be happy again. I’ll walk down the aisle, and…” she began, but paused, suddenly realizing what she had been about to say.
Eloise had almost reiterated her resolve not to marry until her sister was found. To utter such words would be to prove the falsity of what she and Jackson were engaged in. She stopped herself just in time, even as Jackson’s uncle looked at her suspiciously.
“You’ll walk down the aisle and what?” he prodded.
“And know she’s with me in spirit. I always feel close to her. She’s a constant presence. I feel surrounded by her love, and I know I will on my wedding day,” Eloise finished, glancing at Jackson, who smiled encouragingly.
“She sounds a remarkable person,” Jackson said, and Eloise nodded.
Eloise’s father often accused her of remembering Alice through rose-tinted spectacles, and it was true her memories of her sister were growing vague. She thought of Alice as her confidant, her closest friend, the one with whom she could share anything, and who loved her unconditionally. Such hallowing, Eloise knew, was not the entire truth. Alice had her faults. They would argue, they would compete with one another, and they would vie for the affections of both their parents. But at heart, they formed the closest of bonds. It was that bond that had persisted, even in her sister’s absence.
“I see. I admire your fortitude, though I doubt the success of your quest,” Lord Kenwood said flatly.
Jackson moved to object, but Eloise was used to such conclusions. She rarely met anyone who truly believed her sister would return. Kind platitudes and comforting words were the best she could hope for. Even her own father, Alice’s father, believed the cause was lost.
“Shall we retire to the drawing room?” Jackson suggested when dinner was finished, and the last scrapings of an apple pie had been taken from its dish.
“I’m going to my study. I’ve got correspondence to see to,” the Baron decided. He rose to his feet and nodded curtly at Eloise, who smiled and did the same.
“I’m glad to have met you,” she said.
