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Tears welled up in Eloise’s eyes, and she put her hand to her cheek, which was smarting with pain.
The words he spoke were the truth – at least they had been. It had all seemed so simple. The pretense of courtship, the coming marriage, the outward show they had made. All of it had been a ruse. But the feelings she had experienced had been very real. Entirely real. What had begun as a convenience was now the one thing that filled her heart with hope and joy. There was no one else she wanted – not in a ruse, and not in truth.
“It’s not like that, Father. Please, you’ve got to believe me. I encountered Lord Crawford and his sisters last night at the ball. Jackson had gone to fetch some wine, and they cornered me. Lord Crawford seized me, and it was only because of Jackson I wasn’t hurt. He saved me. I can’t marry…” she cried, but her father banged his fist down on the table and snarled at her.
“You’ll marry Lord Crawford, Eloise. That’s my final word on the matter,” he growled.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. She shook her head. She could not marry Lord Crawford. She would not marry him. He was nothing but a wicked rake. He did not love her, he did not care for her, and he wanted only to possess her, not out of anything sincere, but for power and power alone.
“I can’t marry him, Father, please. I won’t marry him. He’s a wicked man. He’s stirred up lies against me, and against Jackson, too. I don’t know what he’s told you, but it’s not the truth. We didn’t do anything scandalous at the Midsummer Ball. We joined the procession of courting couples,” she pleaded, but her father shook his head and scowled at her.
“You took me for a fool, Eloise. You lied to me. It was all a ruse, a falsity. It meant nothing.” He pinned her with an irate look.
“At first, perhaps, maybe… I don’t know. I knew I couldn’t marry Lord Crawford, but you forced me to dance with him. Didn’t you see the way he treated me!” Eloise exclaimed.
“He’s willing to forgive your misdemeanors,” her father said.
He was not listening to her. It was as though he did not care about her, just as he had seemed not to care about Alice. At that moment, the door to the dining room opened, and Anderton appeared, bearing a silver tray with the day’s post on it.
“Your correspondence, My Lord,” he said, lowering the tray.
One of the letters was addressed to Eloise, but before she could take it, her father snatched it up and tossed it into the fire.
“But Father…” she gasped, as she recognized the wax seal and the arms of the Duke of Kenwood embossed there.
“You don’t need to read anything from him,” her father snapped, as Eloise watched the flames turn the letter to ashes.
Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. Happiness had been so close for her, and now it had been so cruelly snatched away by the whims of her father.
“But I… we’re to be married,” she croaked, her voice choked with emotion.
“Not any longer, you’re not. I’ll break off the engagement myself. You’re to have nothing to do with him. Do you understand me?” her father hissed.
Eloise shook her head. She could not agree to it, even as it seemed she was to be forced to accept her father’s will. She wanted desperately to know the contents of the letter. When they had parted the night before, Jackson had told her again he loved her, and she, too, had repeated his words. He had promised to call on her the following Monday with Arthur Dobson, but now such thoughts seemed a mere fantasy in the face of her father’s cruel words.
“But I love him, Father,” Eloise whispered, feeling as though she had no more fight left in her against his vicious onslaught.
“A ruse isn’t love, Eloise. You only wanted to fool me. You lied, and I believed you.”
“But it’s not like that. Not anymore. I love him and he loves me,” she insisted.
“It’s too late for such foolish sentiments, Eloise. Forget him. You’re to marry Lord Crawford. And I don’t want to hear another word on the matter. Do you understand me?” her father said with finality.
But Eloise made no reply, and instead, turned and left the room, closing the door behind her before falling to her knees in the hallway and sobbing. It was Delphine who found her. She was carrying a pile of sheets down the stairs to be laundered. She set them down and hurried to Eloise’s side.
“Oh, My Lady… what’s wrong? Did you father…” she began, and Eloise nodded.
“He told me I have to marry Lord Crawford and that I can’t ever see Jackson again. He told me I’d lied and didn’t deserve such happiness. But it’s not a lie. It’s the truth. I do love him. I love him with all my heart, and I can’t marry Lord Crawford. I’ll run away.” She hiccuped, looking up at Delphine through tear-filled eyes.
The idea had struck her with such force as to be quite overwhelming. If Alice could run away, then why could Eloise not run away, too? It would be simple enough. She could let herself out of the servant’s door or slip across the garden. It did not matter where she went or what happened next. She would lie low and wait. She and Jackson could flee to Gretna Green or even abroad – anything to prevent the terrible certainty of remaining. If she and Lord Crawford were to be married, then all hope would be lost. She would be his, and he would never let her go.
“Oh, My Lady. No, you can’t go. You can’t run away,” Delphine said, as she helped Eloise rise to her feet.
“But what do I do, Delphine? I can’t stay here. I can’t wait for that terrible inevitability. You should’ve seen him, Lord Crawford. His sneering face, his cruel eyes, his anger… and there are his sisters, too. Oh, I couldn’t bear it,” Eloise whispered.
“Come and sit in the morning room, My Lady. You’ve letters to write, and I’ll bring you some tea. Did you eat breakfast?” Delphine asked, fussing over her, but Eloise shook her head.
She was not hungry. She could not think properly – not about anything. Her mind was spinning, her thoughts confused, and nothing now seemed to matter. What difference did it make if Alice was missing? Lord Crawford did not care. He would not help Eloise to find her sister. He would not care if Alice was dead or alive.
