Another month passes. The snow melts, more falls and it is melted again. Buds begin to appear on the trees, the grass seems more green, the sun begins to venture out a little longer every night, the cold air shrinks away in fear of the warmth and longer shadows retreat into each other with the passing of days. Emmanuel buys me another horse. A stallion called Streak. He attempts to coax me into riding him, but I can barely make myself look at another horse. I cannot betray Chastity that way. I could never commit such adultery against her. Lady Elizabeth does not change her belittling demeanour towards me; it is my reaction to it, that changes. I do not serve her taunts with a response, I just stand there, letting her words drown into the well of similar phrases, locking it up after she is silent so that the frustration that is simmering down there never explodes.

To me, my silence is deafening. Emmanuel seems to prefer me this way. Broken, incomplete, invisible. Almost dead. He seems to enjoy the submission in my eyes whenever he demands something of me. A kiss or an embrace. He receives it all; everything but the consummation of our marriage. Even now, I cannot bring myself to allow him to touch me, to take the one thing that I now treasure with all my life.

Master Phillip had broken two days after I had been let out of the shed. He had begged and pleaded and apologised and told me that he had felt guilty, that he could not keep betraying his son, his own flesh and blood. He lied about me because he could not bear to think of his son discovering of his part in the story of Damon and I. He had pleaded for my forgiveness. I had merely walked away, too disgusted to meet his teary gaze. How could I forgive a man who had ruined my life? Who had brought my life to a standstill? Who had taken away everything I survived for? Tell me, how could I pardon the sins of such a man?

"Eloise, sweetheart." Emmanuel calls as he walks into his chambers.

I am sitting on the bed, my gaze fixed on my lap, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, thinking nothing. At the sound of his voice, I look up.

"Yes, Emmanuel?"

"I wish to discuss something with you, darling." Emmanuel states, striding over to the bed and sitting down. I tuck my legs under myself and wait patiently for him to continue.

"As you well know, we have been wedded for six months now. My mother is quite concerned about us. Rose has yet to conceive a child, she is experiencing difficulties. Mother wants us to grant her a grandchild, her first grandchild. She would prefer a boy, but we shall see. What do you say?"

I stare at Emmanuel silently, my heart throbbing in my chest, fears and memories of previous arguments haunting my thoughts, affecting my response.

I clear my throat and say, "Emmanuel, I am not ready. I do not want to conceive a child."

Emmanuel frowns at me and I shrink back ever so slightly.

"Eloise, how long are you going to continue to hide away from your duties? We must consummate our marriage. You have to stop taking me for a fool! Why are you treating this like a joke? Marriage is not marriage unless it is consummated!" Emmanuel says, raising his voice, jabbing at the air with a finger.

I swallow nervously. "I understand that, I do not treat this issue as a joke. I do not take you for a fool, either. You have to understand I am not ready. Emmanuel, in another four months, I will be turning eighteen. I will be a woman and my body will be capable enough to carry a child."

"I do not understand what you are trying to say." Emmanuel shakes his head in confusion.

I sigh in defeat, bowing my head so he cannot see the tears in my eyes.

"In four months, Emmanuel, the day I turn eighteen years of age, our marriage will be consummated."

Emmanuel beams with delight. "Really? In four months' time, it will happen?"

"I swear it." I say, my head still bowed, my eyes aching with the pain of unshed tears. This is it. My final defense. My final weapon. It is all in his hands now. He has won. He is the king. He is the puppeteer and I am the helpless puppet forced to dance by the actions of his hands.

Damon is gone and he is never coming back. He will never save me, like he promised to do. What choice is there for me but to accept defeat and give Emmanuel what he wants?

"I will go and inform Mother of this joyous occasion! You may take a walk around the grounds, Eloise." Emmanuel calls as he bolts from the room.

Do not be fooled by his language. 'You may' does not mean I have a choice. It means I must obey. I do not have any choice when it comes to Emmanuel's demands; they must be obeyed or else there will be consequences. The fading bruises on my legs and arms are just a proof of that.

I rise to my feet, my knees shaking slightly and pull a shawl around myself, heading out of the house and to the furthest field from the confining walls of Emmanuel's home.

I stand in the middle of the field, facing the horizon with a blank expression gracing my face, as has been the norm for the past three months. The cutting words of Emmanuel and his family slash holes in my mind, making my head spin, making the field around me rotate at a dizzying speed.

"We need to consummate our marriage...."

"I wish you would forgive me..."

"I apologise for my mistake...."

"You know, Eliza Frederick's daughter-in-law is expecting her third child...."

"You need to learn to obey me!"

"Our family is not as bad as you think..."

"I will beat obedience into you!"

"I am sorry for hurting you, it will never happen again..."

"Your arms are becoming pudgy, my dear. I have the perfect remedy...."

"My intent was not to hurt you, I swear...."

"You are scum, you hear me? Scum!"

"We need to consummate our marriage...." "I wish you would forgive me..." "I apologise for my mistake...." "You know, Eliza Frederick's daughter-in-law is expecting her third child...." "You need to learn to obey me!" "Our family is not as bad as you think..." "I will beat obedience into you!" "I am sorry for hurting you, it will never happen again..." "Your arms are becoming pudgy, my dear. I have the perfect remedy...." "My intent was not to hurt you, I swear...." "You are scum, you hear me? Scum!"

Clutching my hands to my ears, tears pouring forth from the dams in my eyes, I let out a loud, shrill scream, silencing the voices in my head. It feels so good that I do not stop. I scream and I scream and I scream, collapsing to my knees, my head raised to the sky, my arms open, aching for something to hold. I scream, my eyes closed, my mouth open as wide as it can go. My body shudders from the volume of the scream but I do not stop. I will not stop.

"I hate you!" I screech into the air. "I hate you, Damon! Why have you not returned? Why have you not come to save me? You promised me! You swore to me that you would save me! Why haven't you come yet? Why have you given up on me?"

I fall forward, planting my hands into the earth to hold myself up on all fours, breathing as though I have just finished a four kilometre marathon. I sob, my throat hoarse.

"Why haven't you come yet, Damon? Don't you love me? Do you not want me any more?" I curl into a ball, my tears wetting my face, the soil yielding to my body, curving tightly against it, hugging me to it's surface. At least the earth accepts me, at least the earth is willing to hold me when no one else will do the same. I wail silently into the comfort of the earth, whispering to it all my secrets, sending them on an unknown journey through roots and soils, past earthworms and into the deep vastness that the Earth holds in it's middle.

It is perhaps hours, or seconds, later that I hear approaching voices on the gravel pathway leading to this field. I shoot to my feet, running over to a nearby bench, wiping my tears and smoothing my dress, pretending to look off into the distance.

Emmanuel and his elder brother Richard stride into the field and trotting behind them is the stallion Emmanuel got me, Streak. I look towards them and respectfully rise to my feet, nodding in greeting.

"Eloise. What do you say to riding Streak for a while?" Emmanuel says immediately, bringing Streak to a halt in front of me.

I shake my head. "I have told you before, Emmanuel. I do not like horses any more. Please take Streak away, I do not wish to ride him."

Emmanuel glares at me. "Eloise. It will do you good to ride a stallion. You have only ever managed to ride mares. You used to love riding horses. What happened?"

I fight the urge to scoff. How can he dare to act so clueless?

"Well, Emmanuel. What happened was my horse was killed before my eyes in the most monstrous way possible. I cannot ride Streak and I will not. You may beat me however much you want, it will not change my decision." I say, stalking off angrily back into the house.

At dinner later that day, Lady Elizabeth leads the taunts once more.

"So, Eloise, tell me please. Why have you decided to wait four months before deciding to grace this family with a possible heir?"

I grit my teeth and my hold on my cutlery tightens. I have to force myself to reply in a civil manner. "Well, in four months, I will be eighteen. My body will be more healthy and more capable of carrying a child. That is my only reason to wait for so long."

Lady Elizabeth glowers at me before saying, "Are you certain you are not planning anything within this time period you have given to my Emmanuel?"

My hands clench, the cutlery clutched tightly in my palms, digging into my skin. "I most certainly am sure, Mother-in-law. Of course, once I become a mother myself, there is no way in which you could punish me again. My child would not be able to live without me and Emmanuel would certainly not let his child rot in a cold, damp cellar!"

Lady Elizabeth's nostrils flare and she slams her cutlery down on the table. She stands up and sweeps out of the room. Everyone turns to look at me and I smile innocently.

"Did I say something wrong? I did not mean anything of it. I was just attempting to tell Mother that a child needs attention and I cannot be separated from it." I blink, looking mock-concerned in Emmanuel's direction.

He nods in a reassuring fashion. "I will see to Mother. Eloise, please eat. We need your body to be healthy, remember?"

"Of course." I beam and tuck heartily into the feast before me.

With my troll of a mother-in-law gone, dinner just became all the more appetising.

After dinner has come to a close and Lady Elizabeth and Emmanuel have still not returned, I head up to Emmanuel's chambers, exhausted from the events of the day. As I approach the door leading to Emmanuel's chambers, I hear the whiny voice of Lady Elizabeth emanating from inside.

I stand beside the door, listening to the voices.

"Well, after whatever has happened," Lady Elizabeth is saying. "I simply cannot trust that girl. I still do not know how you can bear the sight of her, Emmanuel. That is why I have hired a man. A servant who will keep an eye on her all the time, apart from when you are in her presence. He will ensure that she does not try to escape in these next four months."

"Mother, I do not see the reason...."

"Emmanuel!" Lady Elizabeth snaps. "Ever since you have been married, you have become more and more disrespectful to me! I am your mother and you will do as I say! Do I make myself clear?!"

"Yes, Mother."

"Good. Now, my little ball of sunshine, I must leave - "

I dash back to the end of the corridor and then double back, ambling slowly down it as though I have just come upstairs, my eyes on the floor, my ears straining to hear the door open. Lady Elizabeth emerges into the hallway. She does not acknowledge my presence or even say anything to me, she just brushes past me rather violently on her way.

I roll my eyes and then walk into Emmanuel's chambers, rushing into the restroom and locking the door after me and waiting until I hear Emmanuel snoring before emerging into the bedroom.

It is not until I have settled on the edge of the bed, as far away from Emmanuel as possible, that I remember the words Damon had whispered to me before he had left for the second time.

"I will send somebody for your protection. Trust no one but him, Eloise. No one."

The next morning, after breakfast, Lady Elizabeth clinks her fork against her glass. "Hear ye, hear ye! I have an announcement to make. Yesterday was an occasion of great joy for me. Tonight, there will be a celebratory ball occuring. Eloise, your dress will be arriving later in the day along with Rose's. Now, to ensure your safety and the health of your body, I have appointed you a bodyguard."

As if on cue, the door opens and in walks a burly, intimidating giant of a man.

"Meet Tristan Rousseau."

Tristan has a mop of dark, curly hair that fringes his forehead, piercing green eyes, a nose that is crooked as though it has been broken before, a mouth set in a straight line and the broadest shoulders I have ever seen on a man. He is dressed immaculately in a raven-black suit and he does not say anything in greeting; he just stares beyond us all with a knowing gaze that must be burning holes into the opposite wall.

This is the man Damon has sent for my protection?

"Tristan will be accompanying you everywhere you go, Eloise. He will meet your every need and supply you with whatever you desire. He will also keep you out of trouble." Lady Elizabeth says smugly, smirking at her ability to add a quick taunt into everything she says to me.

Tristan - in an almost robotic manner - turns to me and says in a clipped voice, "Tristan Rousseau à votre service. Madame, Tristan Rousseau at your service."

I blink in shock. He has the strongest French accent I have ever heard. I fight off a smile, a conversation that Damon and I once had popping into my head.

I had told him that I loved French people, mainly because of how they spoke. He had scoffed and called French people pretentious with their fancy foods and eateries.

I cannot believe he remembers that conversation; I must have been thirteen when I had told him that. Warmth fills me and all my previous anger and sorrow fleets from my body in just a moment, just by this considerate thought.

I turn to Tristan. "Thank you, Mr Rousseau."

"Call me Tristan, Madame."

I nod silently, glancing at Emmanuel who just smiles uncertainly. It occurs to me that he is still not decided on this issue, still does not know whether he wants an unknown French man tailing behind me at all times. This thought gives me immense satisfaction.

Finally, my two months of roiling in depression will be paid off with interest, just by the arrival of a certain Mr Rousseau - sorry, Tristan.

I beam with delight and rise to my feet. "Well, I see it only appropriate to show Tristan around the house and in the process, get to know each other."

Emmanuel frowns at my choice of words but Lady Elizabeth just waves her hand in my direction dismissively.

I lead Tristan out of the dining room, my blood rushing in my veins. I feel as though I should be dancing in a euphoric daze; Damon has not forgotten me. He still loves me.

This revelation elates me and I cannot help a squeal escape my lips as I drag Tristan outside, past the stables to the field where I broke down yesterday.

I turn to him, not wishing to give anything away if by chance, Damon had not sent him. "Is there anything you wish to say to me? Any messages you must pass on? Anything?"

Tristan nods and an ear-splitting grin slaps itself onto my face.

"I have been sent by Mister Damon. I work for him. I have been sent for your safety. He has told me to tell you that his improved plan will be in motion in a fortnight's time and that he has not forgotten you. He said... he loves you and he will come to save you soon. Just like he promised."

Tristan's french accent just makes the words seem all the more romantic.

Tears glaze my eyes and my bottom lip quivers with emotion.

Tristan balks visually. "Oh, Madame. Excusez-moi! Ai-je dit quelque chose de mal?"

I look up at him, sniffing. "What did you say?"

Tristan's eyes light with realisation and then translates his mother tongue for my sake. "Have I said something wrong, Madame?"

I smile. "Oh, no, Tristan, you have not! You have given me the best news I could receive! These tears you see? They are tears of happiness, not sorrow. Thank you, Tristan."

Tristan's shoulders relax and he replies, "Vous êtes les bienvenus, Madame. You are welcome, Madame. Is there anything I should know about the family? About your husband?"

"Emmanuel? Please do not consider him my husband. I can never accept him as a spouse of mine." I say coldly.

"Je m'excuse. I apologise, Madame." Tristan says obediently, bowing his head slightly in respect.

I smile. "That is quite alright, Tristan. Well, Emmanuel is prone to violent bursts of anger, both towards me and towards furniture. You must be careful around him. Master Phillip, Emmanuel's father, is a traitorous beast and you must steer clear of him completely. He betrayed Damon and I to Emmanuel. I dislike him greatly! Lady Elizabeth, Emmanuel's mother, is the most cold and vicious woman I have ever met. She hates me and she is incredibly perceptive, so you must be aware of what you say when you are talking to her. Rose is Emmanuel's sister-in-law and she poses no threat. Richard, Emmanuel's brother, he is ruthless. He killed my horse, my Chastity... in cold blood... in the most... the most brutal and violent way."

Tristan looks down at me with pity. "Qu'elle repose en paix. I hope she rests in peace, Madame."

"So do I, Tristan. So do I."

The parlour is dimly lit, the corners shrinking into blackness. Mindless chatter and shrieking laughter rides high in the air, along with the smell of cigar smoke and the unreined use of alcohol. People are jammed up against each other, some swaying to the music with partners, some talking animatedly to others, some drowning in a haze of alcohol, some covertly attempting to court potential bachelorettes and some, like me, surveying the room, eyes halting for nothing.

My arm is linked with Emmanuel's and behind us, in his tailored suit, Tristan watches our every move.

People move out of our way as we pass, creating a pathway for us, yet still keeping us trapped in with their human fence. Emmanuel points towards a gaggle of women surrounding a gushing Lady Elizabeth and we approach them. Emmanuel disengages my arm from his hold and then strides away in the direction of a few men.

Lady Elizabeth turns to me and stops her conversation to welcome me into the circle. "Ladies, ladies, meet my daughter-in-law, Eloise. She is the one who will be gracing my family with its first granchild, come four or five months."

I wince, but do not react, looking up at Tristan. He nods imperceptibly and I lick my lips, attempting to moisten them.

The ladies coo at me, rubbing my arm and stroking my hair, even daring to sneak peeks at my stomach to ensure I am not pregnant just yet. I sit there awkwardly, Lady Elizabeth talking enough for the both of us, the ladies captured in her dialogue. I sense Tristan standing behind me, a tall, dark, everpresent figure sent by the man I love.

I cannot help but feel relieved; despite every time I told myself to forget Damon, there was a subconscious part of me still desperately holding onto the edge of a cliff that was beginning to crumble away. There was always a part of me that hoped - no, that believed - that Damon would return to me, that he would at least fulfil one of the promises he had made to me.

He will return. Damon will come to save me. He has not given up on me. He has not deemed me too much trouble for my worth. This realisation fills me to the brim with affection and admiration. Despite nearly losing his life because of me, Damon didn't give up. He waited for the dust to settle and then reconstructed his plan, this time with a more concrete structure. How can you not admire such a man?

"Eloise?" Lady Elizabeth says, breaking me from my reverie. "I have a surprise for you."

"What is it, Mother-in-law?"

"Look behind you."

I crane my neck to see behind me and gasp, my hand flying to my neck.

She stands with pride, her hair piled high on her head, a smirk adorning her lips, her lithe body swarming with lace and silk. Her eyes pierce into me, holding strictness, but letting a hidden mischieviousness shines through. She holds her arms out to me, "Don't you look beautiful, Eloise? Come over here and embrace me, dear."

I rise to my feet, nearly tripping over Tristan's feet in my haste to lunge into my mother's arms.

I constrict my arms around her, squeezing my eyes shut, listening to the comforting sound of her heartbeat, burying my face in her chest, refusing to budge. Mother holds me just as tight, her cheek pressed against the top of my head. I feel something wet drop into my hair.

Tears. Mother is crying?

Mother sniffs, confirming my suspicions. She pulls back, holding me at arms' length and admiring my dress.

"You look radiantly extravagant, my darling. Marriage becomes you, dear, it really does." She places a gloved hand to my cheek, cradling my face in her hands and pressing her lips against my forehead.

My lower lip trembles, unable to believe that Mother is being so affectionate towards me.

"We have so much to catch up on, my little Eloise. Lady Elizabeth, I hope you don't mind if my daughter and I occupy a room? I do wish to talk to her greatly about the next phase of her life." Mother smiles dazzlingly at my mother-in-law.

I look back at her, waiting for her response.

Lady Elizabeth rakes her eyes over me and then smiles back at Mother, "Of course, Duchess. Tristan, please escort them to a room."

"Of course, Madame." Tristan says in his delectable French accent, proceeding to lead us up to Emmanuel's chambers.

When we arrive up there, Tristan says, "Je vais rester. I will be out here to ensure nobody intrudes, Madame."

"Thank you, Tristan." I nod in appreciation before following Mother into the bedroom.

She strides confidently over to the bed, sitting down and patting the place beside her. I rush over and settle on the bed, waiting for Mother to say something.

"Eloise, I am most worried!" Mother exclaims, clutching my hand in hers. "I have heard many vile things concerning you from Mary. I have been in contact with her. What is happening here? You have lost every inch of flesh you had on your body. What are they doing to you?!"

At the sound of concern emanating from my mother's tone, I cannot help but to explode into hot tears, throwing myself at her, aching to be comforted by her hands.

Mother holds me to her, "Eloise! Oh, my darling! What has happened? What is wrong?"

"Mother! You don't hate me! You do not despise me, Mother!"

Mother sits back, her eyes cutting straight into mine. "What are you talking about, Eloise? Of course I do not hate you! You are my daughter, my own flesh and blood. How could I hate you? Tell me what has been occuring here. Tell me everything, my darling."

And I do. I tell her everything in a heartbeat. The punishments, Master Phillip's help, Damon's return, Lady Elizabeth's taunting, Master Phillip's betrayal, the issue of consummation, Damon's form of protection in Tristan, the four months' time I have left, everything. I do not leave anything out. All that has been troubling me since the marriage pours forth from my mouth in a tumble of speech. Mother sits silently, listening to me, squeezing my hand in reassurance whenever the words stick to my throat with sobs.

When I conclude the events of the last six months, I look up at Mother, chewing on my lip nervously.

Mother's eyes are blazing. "They did that to you? They starved you? They locked you in a shed?! How dare they?! That lying, bloody wretch! How could she have the courage to treat you like this?! Oh, and Damon! Poor Damon!"

"Poor Damon?" I repeat, doubting my ears. "Mother, you hate Damon."

"Oh, I don't hate Damon, dear." Mother scoffs. "I adore the boy. However, I had to keep you safe and healthy. I thought a family like this would be able to give you that. That was the only reason I hated your friendship so much!"

"So, you approve of him?"

"Eloise, he is the only male around you that I approve of." Mother assures me. She stands up, wearing an expression of determination. "Call Tristan. I have an idea."

I just wanted to take an opportunity to thank all of you readers. The fact that you guys take so much time to just comment and vote amazes me. I just have you guys to thank for so much! If I didn't have you, this story probably would have been taken down a long time ago. You readers are the reason I write, you inspire me, you drive me, you're the reason I want to upload more often! I feel like I don't say thank you enough to you guys, so this chapter isn't just dedicated to @dacherryboss, it's dedicated to everybody who even just reads this chapter! THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, and a final thank you to Google Translate for giving me the ability to be able to add a hot French guy into this story ;)

Lightness x