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“But we’ll show her,” Penelope let out, nodding to Lord Crawford, who smirked.
“A dance, Eloise, come along, there’s a good girl,” he said, and Eloise had no choice but to obey.
CHAPTER22
Awaltz kicked off the proceedings. Dance cards were filled, and the music was played enthusiastically by the musicians, who now occupied a small stage at the end of the grand hall of the Mansion House, in which the Royal Dance was taking place. The King and Queen had risen from their places on the dais and were now invited to begin the dance. Eloise was standing to one side with Lord Crawford, with Claudia on her left and Penelope behind her. She was trapped and was enduring the sympathetic glances of those around her – all of whom believed she was mad.
“The King and Queen,” the Master of Ceremonies announced, and their majesties took to the floor as the music sped into the waltz.
Eloise watched the King, whose face was set in a blank expression. She felt terribly sorry for him. It was as though he was not present, as though he was an empty shell led around the dance floor by the Queen, even as everyone pretended all was well.
“Such elegance,” Penelope said.
“You’re right, my dear, our dear monarch,” Claudia enunciated in a patriotic tone.
The other couples joined the throng, and Lord Crawford took Eloise firmly by the arm and led her forward. The Queen turned and gave Eloise a smile of sympathy and understanding.
“It’s so good she still dances,” the Queen said, as Lord Crawford put his arm firmly around Eloise’s waist.
“I’ve always said normality is the most important thing, Your Majesty.” Lord Crawford smiled, and the Queen nodded.
“You’re quite right, Lord Crawford. One must always keep them in what one hopes is a state of comfort. I sympathize,” she said, glancing back at the King, whose expression remained blank.
Eloise wanted to cry out in anger and frustration. But Lord Crawford had her precisely where he wanted her. If she shouted her protest, if she raged against him, if she broke down in sobs and tears, it would all be the same – madness, they would say and offer their sympathies whilst lauding Lord Crawford for his staunch willingness to marry a woman in such state.
“There now. It wasn’t so difficult, was it?” he murmured, as the dance came to an end and the two of them stepped out of the throng.
“I don’t want to dance anymore,” Eloise snapped, as Lord Crawford and his sisters led her into the ante-room.
“No, time for some refreshments now, I think. You’ve had far too much excitement for one day, Eloise.” Penelope clucked her tongue, and Claudia went to fetch one of the dainty cakes displayed on the refreshment table.
Their tactics had changed. They would appear diligent in their sympathies, whilst reinforcing the myth of her madness. Eloise knew precisely what they were doing, and she knew they would try every trick to persuade her of the affliction they claimed she suffered.
“But I’m not mad, I know I’m not,” she muttered to herself, repeating it over and over again to cling to hope, rather than descend into despair.
She thought of Jackson. He would soon discover what had happened at the Royal Dance. Would he think she was mad? It horrified her to think he, too, might be convinced by this wicked turn of events. She knew nothing of where he was or what he thought of her. Perhaps he would think she was mad, and that would be the end of it. If the whole world believed she was mad, then there could be no denying it.
“I think you’ve had enough excitement for this evening, Eloise. I’ll have your father take you home now,” Lord Crawford uttered after they had finished their refreshments.
The dance was continuing, but Eloise wanted only to leave. She would gladly have shut herself away forever and never spoken to anyone ever again. She was humiliated, a mad woman in the eyes of society, one whom Lord Crawford was to be applauded for his kindness towards.
“We should see she gets home,” Penelope said, taking Eloise by the arm.
“Yes, we’ll all go,” Claudia agreed, and they escorted Eloise through the throng to where her father was in conversation with another guest.
“I think it’s time Eloise went home,” Lord Crawford said, and her father nodded.
“I agree. It’s been an… interesting evening.”
There was much sympathy in the onlookers’ goodbyes. As they progressed towards the door of the hall, they were met with offers of help and practical advice relating to Eloise’s current state.
“I found my mother’s condition improved remarkably after she took the waters at Cheltenham,” one man said, whilst another offered the use of his country home as a place of retreat and reclusiveness.
Lord Crawford smiled and nodded, thanking their fellow guests for their concern, and assuring them he would consider their kind offers carefully. Eloise made no comment. There was no point in doing so. She would only be considered mad. In the carriage, she sat in silence, lamenting her sorry fate at the hands of Lord Crawford and his sisters. Not only was she to be married to him, but he was to control her completely. He had created a false narrative, one which would only serve to his advantage. She wept silently in the dark carriage compartment, reminding herself how close she had come to happiness, and how cruelly it had been snatched away.
CHAPTER23
“No, that’s not the one, nor that. I don’t even know if she’d be using her real name. She wouldn’t, would she?” Jackson pondered, looking up from the ledger he was examining.
