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“I don’t want to write any letters. What use is it, Delphine? It won’t make any difference. If I’m married to that man, I’ll be forced to cease the search for my sister. She’s gone, and she’s not coming back,” Eloise muttered.
It was defeat, pure and simple. She could not imagine anything beyond that moment of misery. She had been on the cusp of happiness and now that happiness had been cruelly snatched away. She was left a broken woman, filled with dread at the prospect of what was to come.
“No one’s going to force you to marry Lord Crawford, My Lady. I’ll bring you some tea. Try not to worry.”
But Eloise did worry. She could think of nothing else. What was in the letter Jackson had sent her? What would he think when she did not reply?
“I’m going to run away. I’m going to leave. I won’t stay here any longer,” she told herself, as Delphine went off to fetch the tea.
But the futility of such resolve was entirely apparent. Eloise was not like her sister. She could not simply disappear as Alice had done. She was trapped, entirely dependent on her father, and now she could do nothing but await the inevitability of what was to come and fear for her future.
CHAPTER15
“Arthur Dobson? What are you doing entertaining him?” the Baron of Loxury asked Jackson.
They were sitting at breakfast, and Jackson had just informed the butler of his expected guest. It was Monday morning, and he was due to call on Eloise, along with the investigator to begin the work of gathering information in the search for Alice. There had already been some progress, and when Jackson had returned home from the Midsummer Ball, he had found a letter from Arthur himself, detailing all he had discovered so far. Jackson had wasted no time in communicating his findings with Eloise, and whilst he had heard nothing from her over the past few days, he was looking forward to seeing her that very morning.
“He’s going to help in the search for Eloise’s sister, Uncle,” Jackson replied, helping himself to toast, which he began to spread liberally with butter.
His uncle tapped his foot.
“A fool’s endeavor, Jackson. She went missing ten years ago. If she’s not dead, then she doesn’t want to be found. Can’t you see that?”
Jackson fixed his uncle with a defiant gaze. He did not share such a defeatist attitude. He was determined to help Eloise find her sister. There was still hope of doing so – Jackson was convinced. Arthur had written to tell him he had discovered certain names corresponding to Alice’s age – married women who matched a description of her looks, and it was these leads he was following.
“Eloise deserves to know the truth. Whatever that might be,” Jackson maintained.
His uncle shook his head.
“You really do want to marry her, don’t you?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Uncle? I love her, and I want to marry her. It’s as simple as that.”
His words were no longer couched in a ruse. He did love Eloise. The feeling had come over him unexpectedly. It had started with merely a physical attraction. She was very pretty, and he had felt terribly sorry for her, too. The way Lord Crawford had treated her was abhorrent. Jackson despised the man and would gladly have dueled with him at the Midsummer Ball. But he knew Eloise had not wanted him to fight, and for her sake, he had drawn back.
“You really have these feelings for her?” his uncle asked, and Jackson nodded.
“On my honor, Uncle, and on all things good and true. I love her with all my heart.”
His feelings for Eloise were no longer merely physical. Their encounter in the shrubbery, his arousal in the theater, and their lovemaking in the drawing room of his uncle’s house had only served to confirm his now deeply rooted feelings. This was no longer to be a marriage of convenience. It was a marriage Jackson would have desired in the most conventional of senses, too. He felt happier than he had ever been before and was excited at the prospect of seeing Eloise that very day.
“And not only for an inheritance?” his uncle pressed, fixing Jackson with a searching gaze.
“No, Uncle. And I resent you for saying so. Is it so far beyond the realm of reason that I should choose to marry?” Jackson tried to conceal his frustration.
His uncle shook his head and took a sip of coffee. Silence reigned at the breakfast table, and Jackson was relieved when the butler came to announce the arrival of Arthur Dobson.
“Excuse me, Uncle.” Jackson rose from the table.
“You won’t find her,” the Baron repeated.
Out in the hallway, Jackson found the investigator waiting for him. He still had the look of a military man. His stiff gait and broad shoulders gave an air of confidence. He still wore his faded red uniform and greeted Jackson with a curt nod and a firm handshake. He was perhaps approaching fifty, his black hair streaked with wisps of gray, and his features weather-beaten, though his eyes were bright and keen.
“Ah, Your Grace, it’s good to see you again,” Arthur said.
The two men had met the previous week when Jackson had enlisted Arthur’s services. He had wanted to surprise Eloise by presenting her with the certainty that her sister had been found. But it had soon become apparent that such an investigation would not be easy. Too much time had passed to allow for a simple search of the city, and Arthur had been clear that finding Alice would be no easy task.
“Likewise. I’m very grateful for your time. I relayed everything you told me to Miss Snowden. She’s eager to meet you.” Jackson ushered the investigator into the drawing room.
