After lunch, Mother suggests Emmanuel and I take a walk around the gardens. Emmanuel holds his arm out and I take hold of it, my hand fitting snugly in the crease of his arm.

“Miss Kempston,” He begins.

“Please.” I interrupt, “Do call me Eloise.”

“Then you must call me Emmanuel.”

“Of course.” I agree, my eyes on the path ahead of us.

“Eloise,” He starts again, “It seems as though you really like horses. I, myself, am a champion rider. I am currently holding five trophies.”

“Congratulations. That is a big achievement.” I attempt to smile, all the time trying not to yawn.

Already, I am ever so bored. I wonder what Damon is doing? 

Emmanuel continues, “What do you think of our betrothal?”

“I have not had much time to think about it.” I state truthfully, “Mother informed me last night. It was most shocking.”

“Yes, I suspect it would be. I learned of the matter three weeks ago, on my twentieth.” Emmanuel tells me as we stroll through the garden.

What is Damon doing, I wonder? I reach up and pluck a pink flower, inhaling it's aromatic scent. 

I look up at Emmanuel, “Smell this. It has the most wonderful aroma.”

Emmanuel takes it from me, his fingers brushing against mine momentarily. I let my hand drop to my side, averting my gaze. I hear Emmanuel take a deep breath in.

After a few moments of silence, he speaks, “You are right. It smells exquisite, indeed. What are these flowers called?”

“I do not know, but they have grown every spring since I have been a child.” I look around myself at the lush garden with the healthy trees and luscious blades of grass and stone benches.

“Let's sit down for a while.” Emmanuel says, leading me to one of these stone benches. I sit beside him, my hands clasped on my thighs.

“You are very quiet.” He observes. 

I sigh, “Forgive me, but I do not know you well. I do not mix well with strangers. It will be a few days before I feel comfortable around you and your mother.”

“I understand.” Emmanuel rests his hand over mine and brushes a stray strand of hair away from my face. I look away instantaneously. Emmanuel withdraws, “Oh, I am ever so sorry. You must think me so forward.”

“No, definitely not. Like I said, I do not feel comfortable around people I do not know well. You are not at fault in this.” I shake my head. Emmanuel seems convinced; he leans back, relaxed.

At that moment, Damon strolls into the garden, bearing a clipping tool.

“Damon!” I call to him, waving excitably. Damon smiles at me and then his eyes hover over Emmanuel.

He walks over to us, “Good afternoon. How are you, Miss Eloise?”

I frown, “Why are you addressing me so formally?” 

Damon glowers at me. 

“Oh! I mean, I am doing well, Damon. What are you doing out in the gardens?” I say hastily, biting my lip.

“There is a branch that needs clipping. Mistress Adeline says it is blocking her view of the village, so I am on my way to fix it.”

“Mother is fond of her view.” I risk a glance at Emmanuel, who seems puzzled to see me interacting with a worker so well, “Emmanuel, this is Damon. As Mother told you before, he is our footman but he and I are very close. Friends, of sorts.”

“I see.” Emmanuel's eyes darken, “Well, I think it is fair to say that we will be seeing a lot of you in the future.”

I frown in confusion. Why does he seem so... threatening? 

Damon nods, seemingly oblivious to Emmanuel's reaction. I resume talking, undeterred, “Damon and I have known each other since we were at a young age, so Mother hired him as our footman to make things easier for me. Society is not kind.”

“No, society is not. I wonder what they might say of you and Damon roaming around together despite you being betrothed to me. I have to say, my family is well-known around these areas.” Emmanuel boasts darkly.

Damon narrows his eyes, “Well, I'm certain they will get used to it. After all, I am going to be your personal footman once you have got married.”

“Really?” I exclaim with glee.

Damon grins, “Yes, Miss Eloise. Mistress Adeline disclosed the news to me this morning. I have to say, I did not expect this.”

“Well, it is wonderful, Damon!” I beam, “Having you around is most relaxing. Now, I shouldn't be stopping you from working. Go, before my babbling causes you to receive a punishment.”

“Yes, Miss Eloise. Mister Emmanuel, I shall take your leave.” Damon bows.

“Of course.” Emmanuel smiles icily. 

I scowl at the ground, perturbed by the sudden change in his mood.

It is late when Mother asks Emmanuel to escort me to my room. We are both silent as we walk up the stairs. When we stop in front of my door, Emmanuel rakes a hand through his hair, putting it to rights, “I must say, Eloise, do you think having such an intimate friendship with a worker is appropriate?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your footman, the one with the unusual name.”

“Are you speaking of Damon?” I raise an eyebrow. 

“I am, indeed.” Emmanuel nods briskly.

“Then I will say this. Damon and I share a close friendship, but calling it intimate is like suggesting it is something more than friendship.”

“I am not accusing you of anything, Eloise.” Emmanuel sighs. 

“I simply want to say that Damon and I have known each other all our lives. I cannot imagine my life without him and I do not see how that is improper.”

“There is nothing improper about being friendly to a worker. Taking it beyond a simple friendly gesture is what is improper.” Emmanuel points his nose to the sky.

“Emmanuel, you have known me for no less than a day. You do not know me and you do not understand me. I am not like most girls, who dream of a fairytale wedding and the perfect husband. I do not care for money, for society, for balls and cotillions. All this does not matter to me. Happiness, satisfaction, these emotions are what are important in my life. Damon brings that into my life, so he will stay in my life, whether I am betrothed or not.”

“Eloise, why are you arguing with me over a mere servant boy?” Emmanuel spits out.

“Pardon me? I hope you do not mean what you have just said. Damon is not just my friend, he makes up a part of me. Now, if you excuse me, I'd like to be left alone before I say something I may later regret.”

Glaring, I walk into my room and shut the door with a little more force than necessary.

Mary is in my room, fluffing the pillows. She looks up as I enter, “Eloise! Whatever is the matter? Why have you slammed the door like that? Is something wrong?” She hurries over to me, taking me by the hand and leading me over to the table. I sit down, staring into the mirror at my reflection. Mary undoes my chignon so my hair falls around me.

I see the same thing I have seen everyday since forever. Brown ringlets of hair, deep eyes the colour of a thunderstorm, a snub of a nose and thin lips that get chapped easily. 

“Oh, Mary.” I swivel around in my seat and Mary kneels before me. “Mary, he's positively terrible!”

“Oh, you don't mean that, Miss Eloise.” Mary frowns.

“I most certainly do!” I rise to my feet, walking over to the bed and gripping one of the four posts, “Mary, do you know what he said to me? He said 'why are you arguing with me over a mere servant boy?' He called Damon a mere servant boy! How dare he?”

“You had an argument concerning Damon?” Mary walks over to me, taking my arm and making me sit on the bed.

I sigh, “Yes, Mary. He does not understand and I do not expect him to. I don't understand my mother's decision. He is so arrogant and snooty and horrible. Oh, Mary. How am I to spend my life with such a man?”

“You do not understand him just as he does not understand you. Give him some time; this is his first day and you are a most unusual girl compared to others your age. Let him adjust to your way of thinking.”

Mary leads me over to my wardrobe and helps me undress. Once I'm clad in my night gown, Mary hauls me to my bed and tucks me in, just like she used to do when I was nothing but a child who knew nothing but the comforting touch of her best friend Damon.

“Mary,” I say, laying there, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Yes, darling?”

“What if he truly is horrible? I have no way out of this betrothal that will free me and keep the family honour intact.” A tear rolls down my cheek, “Mary, what do I do? I have to get married to him, but I'm not prepared to lose my friendship with Damon.”

“And you won't have to.” A gravelly voice says firmly.

I sit up, propping myself on my elbows. Damon stands in the doorway. Mary smiles at me and then leaves the room. Damon strides into the room, perching on the edge of the bed. I sit up properly, clasping my hands neatly, just as I have been programmed to do.

“What's the matter?” Damon asks, slipping out of his loafers and sliding between the covers, just like we used to do when we were small. I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder, telling him everything. When I finish and finally look up at him, Damon's face is dark and his eyes are raging a battle with his composure.

“He raised his voice upon you?” Damon asks, without an ounce of emotion but there is a momentous underlying threat to his words.

I ignore him, “Damon, he thinks our friendship is improper. How can he think that? How can anybody think that?”

“He doesn't understand us, Eloise.” Damon tells me simply, “He doesn't understand that we are the most important people in each others' lives.”

“Yes, well, until he does, he won't know me. He won't know the real me.” I state firmly. 

Damon reaches out, cupping my cheeks in the rough hands that I have held so many times, “I want you to get some sleep. I know you, Eloise. You will worry about this all night and toss and turn if you have to.” He rises to stand by my bed, pushing my shoulders gently so I'm lying down in the bed. He tucks the duvet under my chin, “Sleep, Ellie.”

Ellie. His nickname for me ever since we met and he couldn't say my name because of his temporary lisp. 

“I will.” I promise. Damon smiles and then glides gracefully to the doorway, flicking the light off and leaving the door a smidge open, just the way I like it.

I look into the blackness for a few moments, before closing my eyes, still smiling about the way Damon knows everything about me and has me figured out to the very last inch, the way he knows what I'm about to say even before I say it.

Damon is everything Emmanuel could only aspire to be...

P.S. the picture is of Emmanuel