Chapter Thirty-Seven:The Woman She Is

The Duke and Duchess of Islington had always been known for their strict adherence to tradition. To them, there was an unspoken rulebook, a way that every family member was expected to behave—especially women. The notion of quiet submission, of a wife who spoke only when spoken to and kept her opinions to herself, had been passed down through generations of Islington women. Eleanor had known this, of course, but she had never anticipated just how suffocating the weight of their expectations would feel until now.

As she sat in the plush carriage with Theo, making their way to a formal dinner at the home of another esteemed family, Eleanor couldn't help but let the frustration bubble up inside her. Her body was tense, her posture rigid, though she tried her best to mask it. Her mind, however, was a storm of thoughts, and she couldn't contain them any longer.

The carriage, elegant and smooth in its motion, felt more like a prison than a mode of transport to her. The polished wood and luxurious velvet seats, the golden trim that decorated every inch of the space—all of it seemed to mock her. The very life she was now expected to lead felt stifling, like a dress that was too tight, a corset drawn too sharply.

Finally, unable to contain herself, Eleanor broke the silence.

“Theo, I can’t do this,” she said, her voice surprisingly loud in the stillness of the carriage. The words seemed to spill out before she could stop them. “I can’t be the woman they want me to be. Quiet. Submissive. Always nodding and smiling like some docile thing.” She turned to face him, her eyes bright with the raw emotion that she had been trying to keep hidden for far too long. “They’ve made it clear—every moment since I’ve arrived here—that I am to be nothing more than a reflection of their values. A woman who keeps her thoughts to herself, who never challenges what’s expected of her. I can’t do that.”

Theo, who had been gazing out of the window, shifted his attention to her. He took in her flushed face, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, and he could sense the frustration and anger radiating from her. His heart swelled with both admiration and a touch of concern. He knew how important her independence and strength were to her, but he hadn’t fully realized just how much this pressure was weighing on her.

“You need not be someone you’re not, Eleanor,” he said softly, his tone steady but filled with an undercurrent of warmth. He reached out and took her hand, his touch grounding her, even though the intensity of her emotions didn’t fade. “You don’t need to fit into some mold, and you certainly don’t need to become this... ideal wife that they’ve imagined for you.”

Eleanor’s eyes softened as she looked at him, a mixture of relief and gratitude flooding through her. She had been so afraid that he might expect her to fall in line, to become a mere shadow of herself in order to fulfill her duties. But hearing him speak now, she felt a weight begin to lift off her shoulders.

Theo squeezed her hand gently. “I didn’t fall for a quiet, docile lady who only smiled and obeyed,” he continued, his voice low and sincere. “I fell for you, Eleanor. The woman who speaks her mind. The woman who challenges me, who dares to be bold, who isn’t afraid to stand up for what she believes in. I wouldn’t want you to be any other way.”

Eleanor blinked back the sudden sting of tears that threatened to surface. His words, so simple yet so powerful, struck a chord deep within her. She hadn’t realized how much she had been craving someone to truly understand her, to see her for who she was beneath all the expectations.

“I don’t want to change,” she whispered, almost as if the admission were a secret she had been keeping locked away. “I don’t want to lose myself to this life, to this family, or to society’s expectations. But I don’t know how to keep being myself when everyone around me keeps pushing me to be something else.”

Theo’s gaze softened, his hand still holding hers with a comforting steadiness. “You don’t have to change, Eleanor. You are perfect just the way you are. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

She looked down at their joined hands, the warmth of his fingers giving her strength. For a brief moment, Eleanor allowed herself to breathe, to let the tension slip away, even if just a little. She didn’t have to mold herself into the image of a woman she wasn’t. She didn’t have to please anyone but herself and Theo.

“The Duke and Duchess,” she said, her voice still laced with frustration, “they don’t understand me. They don’t understand us. They want me to be quiet, reserved. They want me to fit into their little world of perfection, but they don’t see how suffocating that is.”

Theo nodded, his jaw tightening slightly as he thought about his parents. “I know. They’ve always had a specific vision for how a lady of our stature should behave.” He paused, glancing out the window for a moment before his gaze returned to her. “But that’s their vision. Not yours. You don’t have to sacrifice who you are for them.”

Eleanor's heart swelled with affection for him. He truly understood. He didn’t want her to become a version of herself that she wasn’t. He wanted her to be the woman she had always been—the woman who had captivated him from the start. The woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, to challenge the norms, to be bold.

A small, grateful smile tugged at Eleanor’s lips as she squeezed his hand in return. “Thank you, Theo,” she whispered. “I needed to hear that.”

Theo smiled back at her, his expression tender. “You don’t need to thank me, Eleanor. I’m here for you. Always.”

The carriage continued its journey toward the dinner, but for the first time in what felt like ages, Eleanor felt at ease. She still had the pressures of her family’s expectations to contend with, but now, with Theo by her side, she felt a renewed sense of confidence. She didn’t have to be someone else. She didn’t have to surrender herself to society’s idea of a perfect wife. She had Theo’s support—and that meant more to her than anything.

They arrived at the dinner soon after, and as they stepped out of the carriage together, Theodore’s hand resting gently on her back, Eleanor took a deep breath. The weight of the world still hovered over her, but with Theo at her side, she felt ready to face whatever came next.

They entered the grand hall, where the other guests had already gathered, their conversations a murmur of politeness and propriety. Eleanor straightened her back, holding her head high. She was not the quiet, submissive woman the Duke and Duchess of Islington wanted her to be. She was Eleanor Theodore Blackwood, the Lady Islington and wife of Lord Theodore Blackwood, and she was about to make her mark on this world, on her own terms.

Theo’s eyes caught hers from across the room, and a small, knowing smile curved on his lips. She returned it, a spark of defiance in her gaze.

Together, they were unstoppable.

And as the evening wore on, with each passing moment, Eleanor knew that this was only the beginning. She didn’t have to change. She just had to stay true to herself—and with Theo’s unwavering support, she would do exactly that.