Recap:

It's only when the horse-ridden coach pulls away that Mary turns to me and conveys any sign of emotion.

"I'm sorry!" She exclaims. "I had to lie to you!"

Chapter Fifteen

“What?” I say, scrunching my face up in an equal mixture of curiosity and confusion. 

Mary takes my hand and squeezes it before confessing to me, “I was not relieved permanently from my position. It was a temporary thing, just until today, so that she could be sure that you would cooperate.”

I gawk at Mary in disbelief.

“I was sent away, just so that your mother could ensure that your mental strength, your very spirit would crumble. She knew that as long as I was here, you would have hope. She couldn't let you have that, she wanted you to go through the motions amicably, without trouble. She knew as long as I was here, you would continue to protest.”

The disbelief takes a back seat to the fury bubbling in me like a potion in a witch's cauldron. 

“Why does she want to destroy me?!” I scream, banging my fist against the cushioned seats. Mary does not reply and the rest of the journey is spent in a roiling silence full of outrage (coming from me) and an acquired calm (coming from Mary). 

When we arrive at my home, there are four security guards waiting to hustle me into the house unseen. They do a good job, surrounding Mary and I like a flock of birds until we get into the safety net of the house. They then relax their positions but accompany me up to Emmanuel's quarters.

A woman is waiting there for me, holding up a scarlet dress that is delicately choked in quartz gems. 

“I'll change her.” Mary says, taking the dress. “You wait outside. I'll call you when you're needed.”

Without saying a word in response, the woman retreats from the room. 

Mary walks behind me and begins to untie my dress, all the time talking to me. “I'm sorry I lied to you, but it had to be done. I couldn't make Duchess Adelina suspicious of me.”

“Why? Mother didn't suspect you of anything.” I say, turning and raising my arms as Mary pulls the gown over my head.

Mary looks up at me and I see a gritty determination in her eyes. “Your mother would maybe suspect me... because I am involved in the escape plan Damon has constructed for the two of you.”

“What? How? How are you involved?” I babble.

Mary shakes her head. “That is not important. You will find out when the time comes. For now, you must go along with everything that happens. Do not do anything that can risk the outcome of what Damon and everyone else is working on.”

“Everyone else? Who is everyone else?”

“The less you know, the better.” Mary shushes me and then goes over to the door, beckoning the woman back into the room. 

My hair is taken out of it's complicated up-do and re-styled, with half pinned up and half left to ripple down past my shoulders. My make-up is removed and re-applied in a much more subtle and comfortable way. I take off those tedious heels and am bought purple ballerina shoes. Before I put them on, my tired and sore feet get a chance to soak in a foot bath for a couple of minutes. During this time, a bouquet of flowers, a fresh pair of gloves, a new set of pearl necklaces, two rings to put on my middle fingers and a bracelet are all delivered to my room. 

Maids fuss over me, deciding whether to put the rings or the gloves on my hands. Finally, one leaves to Mother in order to consult with her and the order comes back to put the rings on. My feet are dried and the shoes are slipped on to my slightly wrinkled, damp toes. My hair is combed out for a final time and the necklace is roped around my neck. The bracelet is pushed onto my wrist and the bouquet misted with water to keep it from drooping before it is pushed into my hands.

Mary helps me to my feet and I stretch once, yawning behind my hand like a real lady. My mother is ushered into the room by another maid. She, also, has changed. Now dressed in a more age-appropriate pastel pink gown with a black swirling print. Her hair has been tied in a less intricate coiled bun and her make-up – like mine – has been applied in more subtle lashings. 

“The guests have now arrived in the garden.” Mother informs me, her eyes running over me. “You look good. Mary and I will escort you to the garden, where Emmanuel is waiting. You will be interacting with the guests for half an hour while the food is being set up on the tables. After you have ate, there will be dancing. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Mother.” I nod. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, come over here.” She urges, flapping her hands at me. I walk over to her, half of my focus on my mother, the other trying it's hardest not to let me trip over my dress, which licks the floor as I walk.

Mother makes me hook my hand around her arm and then holds her chin up, ordering me to do the same before striding out of the house and into the garden with me in tow.

The air is full of lively banter and cheerful laughter. Ribbons and strips of silk have been tied from tree to tree, tying and trapping us in the small orchard. There are tables laden with all types of finger foods, a little appetiser before the meal. Little circular tables are clustered around a swing set upon which Emmanuel and his brother are chatting animatedly. His mother, father and sister-in-law are standing close by, each of them engaged in chatter with the guests.

As I emerge into the orchard, trumpets signal my arrival and a deadly silence falls on the guests as they all turn to see me. I gulp nervously, glancing at Mother and desperately avoiding Emmanuel's eyes. 

Mother confidently leads me over to Emmanuel. She then turns to the audience, smiling and Lady Elizabeth joins her. 

“Thank you for joining us today for the unification of our two children.” Mother begins.

Lady Elizabeth then continues, “As you all know, the wedding was just completed in the church. It was a beautiful ceremony and we know that many of you couldn't make it due to seating spaces. To make up for that inconvenience, we hope you enjoy the reception we organised.”

“The band will be here throughout the reception.” Mother takes over, giving me the suspicion this was rehearsed, “I hope you will all indulge in some dancing and celebrate this unforgettable day with our families. Today is the beginning of a new life for my daughter, my only child so this experience has been both a joy and a mourning for me. I'm happy she was married into such a good family.”

Lady Elizabeth smiles and finishes by saying, “Everybody, please do not hesitate to approach any of us. We're in the mood for a good chat!”

There is laughter at this and everyone resumes their conversations. 

Mother turns to Emmanuel and I, her cheery façade falling away. “Emmanuel, take Eloise and please interact with some of the guests.”

“Of course, Duchess Adeline.” Emmanuel says, hooking his arm around my waist and steering me in the direction of a large-mouthed woman and her wild-haired husband. I have seen them in the papers before, however, their name escapes my mind.

They smile as we approach, seeming nice enough.

“Good afternoon, Mr and Mrs Rutherford.” Emmanuel plasters a charming smile on his face, tightening his hold on my waist in an I'm-warning-you fashion. I plaster an identical smile on, but it seems to slip away after a few minutes and I have to keep reminding myself to lift up the corners of my mouth again.

“Good afternoon, Emmanuel.” Mrs Rutherford says. “I presume this is Eloise?”

“Yes.” I put my hand out for her to shake. She takes it and gives it a firm tug, nearly pulling me with her when she drops her hand back to her side. 

“You make a wonderful couple.” Mrs Rutherford smiles, the edge of her eyes crinkling with warmth. Emmanuel chuckles modestly and pulls me closer to him, his fingers nearly piercing my side.

I fight to muster a smile and feel the corners of my mouth attempting to lift. “Thank you.”

“You're most welcome, dear.” Mrs Rutherford looks at me as though surprised I can talk.

Emmanuel then cuts in, “Well, if you'd excuse us, we've been ordered to mill around with as many guests as possible.”

“Oh, of course. We shan't keep you any longer.” Mrs Rutherford takes a step back, smiling politely at her.

Emmanuel drags me with him, leading me across the orchard. I see Mary deep in conversation with Lady Elizabeth, Peter showing off Chastity to the guests and there is still no sign of Damon. I sigh and let Emmanuel lead me to another couple, letting the words wash over me and replying with polite yet brief sentences. I am too immersed in wondering where Damon has got to, what they've done to him. I wonder whether I should ask Mother, whether that will infuriate her. But will it be worth it? As I think this, Emmanuel whisks me around nearly the whole garden before the music stops and my mother's voice booms out, “Everybody, may I have your attention? Some of my dearest friends tell me that this reception is a little dull. So, in an attempt to liven it up, let's have some dancing!”

Everyone cheers and claps.

“Music, please!” 

The music begins and dozens of people mill in the centre of the room, beginning to dance to a jaunty and cheerful tune. Dresses start to fly everywhere, hair is let loose in the wind, cheeks turning crimson with exertion, laughs unravelling with joy. 

Emmanuel starts to tug me towards the crowds of people dancing but I shake my head. 

“No, I can't dance!”

“You have to. It's obligatory for the bride to dance with her groom.” Emmanuel says, dragging me in the centre of the jovial crowd. He takes both of my hands in his and holds them in front of us. Along to the upbeat music, Emmanuel pulls me closer, so close that our hands touch his chest and then I take a step back, just like I was taught in ballroom dancing class. Emmanuel spins me around twice and dips me low before spinning me around, this time letting my hand go. 

I spin into another man's arms and he twirls me around the garden, one arm secure around my waist and the other holding mine high in the air. He turns me around so my back is to his chest and plants both hands around my waist. Holding my waist, he spins me and then raises me off the ground, spinning so fast I feel a little dizzy. 

He lets me back down and then we switch partners again. This time, my partner is someone I am rather familiar with – Master Phillip. “Hello, Master Phillip!” I say as he whirls us around the garden, his cheeks slightly rosy, a slight tinge of whiskey on his breath. 

“None of that formality now, my dear!” He says, all the time keeping his distance from other dancers, “I know your father is long gone, so consider me a replacement!”

“Why not, Father?!” I giggle. Lord Phillip – Father – smiles down at me and then glances over my shoulder, “Here comes your next partner.”

Father does another twist so I can see. My breath catches when I see who it is.

Damon.

He is dancing with some bachelorette, his eyes on me. He is dressed in the same long waist-coat with tails that all the male maids are wearing.

I look up at Father.

He winks deliberately. “Don't tell Emmanuel.”

My eyes water but I choke them back as Father prepares to spin me into Damon's arms. I quickly glance at Mother, who is engulfed in a group of ladies, busy chatting about the latest gossip, no doubt.

Damon comes closer and closer and the girl is out of his arms. I jump into his arms, feeling his hands tight around me. The dancing gets more and more genuine; the pained smile on my face becomes real; the spring in my step as we flounce around becomes true.

I gaze up into Damon's warm eyes. “Where have you been?”

“Other duties had captivated me, my love.” Damon says gallantly, spinning me around into the next enclosure. This enclosure is decorated, but empty of people, allowing us the privacy we so direly need. We stop dancing and just stand in each others' arms, content with our little moment. 

“Maybe I'll forgive you.” I grin. “Do you know? Emmanuel's father, he...”

“Is part of the plan.” Damon finishes for me. 

“What?” I stare at Damon. “He's part of the plan? How?”

“Your curiosity is going to kill you, Eloise.” Damon cups my face in his hands, “Why don't you let things unravel for themselves?”

“Because... I can almost feel you slipping through my fingers.” I say, fighting the urge to step back and watch my shoes glitter in the light.

Damon looks back right into my eyes. Mashing his lips together, Damon pulls me into his embrace, holding me to him. Both of his hands are as tight as they could be around my waist, his head buried in the crevice of my neck. I throw my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in the short hairs at the back of his head and holding on for dear life with my eyes squeezed shut. 

Damon pulls back a little and his eyes are wet with held-back tears. He lowers his face to mine and whispers in the softest voice, “You will never lose me.”

“I hope so.” I whisper back.

“There's no hoping to do about it.” Damon shrugs as much as he can under my grip. “You. Will. Never. Lose me.”

I nod silently, my eyes gazing into his determined ones. I close my eyes and bring Damon's face just that inch closer. His lips meet mine and meet in a frenzied touch. I sink into his arms, my knees almost giving in. Damon holds me up, his lips glued to mine, one hand hooked behind my head, pulling me ever closer.

I finally have to pull away in order to breathe but Damon still holds me close, his eyes smouldering, a rosy blush painting his cheeks. He leans his forehead against mine and I rise on my tiptoes so Damon doesn't have to bend his neck so much. 

Damon closes his eyes as though in pain, swallowing stiffly.

“Are you okay?” I ask, still dizzy from the kiss.

“It's nothing, just that I'm still a little sore. It's okay though; you don't need to worry.” Damon assures me.

Mary rushes in to the secluded enclosure, “Damon, you're needed. Sweetheart, you are also in demand. It's time to eat, honey.”

Reluctantly, Damon and I walk over to her and then Damon leaves with one, two, three last glances in my direction.

I watch him go with a sinking heart...