I sit on a high-backed chair, forced into a 'pleasant' conversation with a woman I have never met.
She whines on in a mild wine-induced stupor, "So my husband decided that enough was enough... This bachelor thought that he was good enough for our little girl. The outrage! My husband banished him from the county and now, my daughter is married to a suitable man and is the mother of two!! Not to mention, she is only your age!!"
The woman titters hysterically.
I chuckle softly at her drunkenness, which is so rare amongst 'women of society', looking around the rest of the heaped ballroom for a means of rescue.
Once I had woken from 'hitting my head', my dress was sewn and my face scrubbed once more to help regain the colour it had lost. I have not seen Emmanuel since.
Rose appears, blocking my view of the guests. "Mother-in-law calls for you."
"Of course." I say, rising to my feet as gracefully as possible. "Excuse me."
I follow Rose, weaving through the throngs of strangers, smiling when a 'congratulations' is thrown my way. Wine is nearly spilt over me numerously by patrons of the welcoming ball, but Rose always pulls me away with lightening reflexes, chiding the other person softly. Lady Elizabeth is standing in the middle of an arc of women, all laughing and gasping at her words. As we approach them, Lady Elizabeth beckons me.
She winds an arm around my waist and pulls me closer. "This is my daughter-in-law, Eloise. Emmanuel's wife. Rose darling, go and call Emmanuel."
Rose rushes off immediately without another word, zipping in and out of peoples' paths.
The women - there are five of them - all coo at me, grabbing my hand to gaze at my wedding ring, tugging gently on the material of my dress, running their eyes appraisingly over my whole body. I feel like an object at an auction, put on display for everyone to declare their prices. 'One, two, three sold!' and I belong to you now.
That would be all it would take.
"How old are you, darling?" One woman asks.
"Seventeen, Miss." I reply curteously, lowering my gaze respectively.
"Oh, pish-posh!" The woman chuckles heartily. "Call me Arlene. And seventeen. My, my, what a ripe age!"
"I do not understand."
"Why, my dear, seventeen is the perfect age to bear your husband children!!" She announces excitedly.
I almost choke on the air I'm breathing and my neck flushes, the redness seeping upwards into my face. I splutter, "We just got married yesterday!"
Even though it seems so much has happened...
"The sooner, the better, my dear." Arlene winks suggestively.
"Arlene!" Lady Elizabeth chides. "Do not be so forward, you have barely met her!"
I sigh in relief.
"They have only had one night together, give them a few months!"
My sigh turns into a suppressed cry of surprise.
"A few months for what, Mother?"
An arm curls itself around my waist. I fight the urge to slap it away and look up into the blank eyes of Emmanuel.
"Here is the man of the ball!!" Arlene squeals. "Don't you look handsome!"
"I have to make the effort now, Arlene." Emmanuel grins, pulling me closer into his side. When Arlene looks at me warmly, I have no choice but to manifest a smile for her.
The evening wears on with no sign of ending. I soon forget the number of drinks pushed into my hand, the number of times Emmauel and Lady Elizabeth introduce me to someone new, the number of times I am whisked away to dance and the number of times I am warned to perk up and act like a woman. When everyone finally filters out to their homes, my feet ache from walking and dancing, my jaw aches from talking and smiling, my head aches from too many drinks, my hands ache from being squeezed in Emmanuels', my sides ache from being encased in Emmanuel's hands and I can barely keep my eyes open.
I look up through bleary vision to see Annalette standing in front of me.
"Master Emmanuel instructed me to escort you upstairs."
I rise to my feet, trying to groan in pain. "Thank you, Annalette. I am rather tired."
Annalette smiles gently at me and proceeds to lead me up the stairs towards Emmanuel's room. The bed is already made and Annalette prepares me for bed. Once I am in my night gown, I crawl on to the bed and bury myself sullenly between the sheets, wishing I had Damon's arms around me, or his gentle hands carressing my throbbing forehead, or his sweet words to banish my worries away. How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to live without someone who is my life?
Damon completes me; that is nothing but a mere fact. When I am around him, everything dissipates into cherries on a bough. Even my darkest, deepest fears become nothing but a dark dot on the horizon. How can I live without that?!
Why didn't he say goodbye?!
If only he had told me he loved me for one last time, maybe I would have been able to bear this pretentious life. Maybe I would have been able to tolerate all the fake smiles and gazes. If only I was poor, then Damon and I could be together. If I was poor, then nobody would care who I married and whom I loved. Damon and I would be free to love each other. I rub my temple and a tear rolls down my cheek.
I love him so much.
How can my heart be so big as to harbour such love? My chest heaves with the effort to hold all my troubles in and I clench my fists, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. I attempt to close my eyes and drift to sleep, but thoughts of Damon haunt me, forcing me awake. I sit up in bed, sighing in frustration.
Are you thinking of me, Damon? Is that why I can't sleep?
I give up trying to sleep and drift over to the window, sitting down on the window sill and dragging my knees up to my chest, staring out into the vast, enveloping darkness.
The moon gazes down at me, large, colourless and all-knowing. I stare back, knowing that if Damon is looking out of his window, then the moon will be what he is searching for. He has an obsession with the mother of the night. When we were small, Damon used to take me into the orchard and we would lie down on a picnic blanket, just watching the moon shine her maternal rays over us, basking in her creamy light. I smile gently at the memory, remembering how Mother would always scold me for staying outside so late and how Mary would always protect me and wash my dirty dresses secretly so Mother would not discover the outings that, according to her, never existed. Damon and Mary... the two most important people in my world, and I have lost them, because I could not control my own emotions and just keep myself to myself.
My chest constricts again and I groan, resting my head on my knees. Damon will be the death of me. A rather cheerful death, at that... I shake my head and almost immediately, regret it. It is not a good idea to shake your head when you have a raging headache, let my royal self tell you that.
"Hello, wife."
"Is that all you have demoted me to?" I ask without looking up. "A role?"
"You know, all you have to do is love me and I will be the perfect gentleman." He says and a hand rests on my back. My head snaps up and I shrug him away.
"I cannot do that. I cannot love you. You ask too much." I look up at Emmanuel, who responds by hooking his arms around my curled-up body and carrying me to the bed. He drops me on top of the sheets and straddles me, hovering over me threateningly.
"What are you doing?!" I ask, my voice breaking with fear.
"I will not hurt you. Let me love you." Emmanuel lowers his head and I push my hand against his chest.
"No! Stop. I cannot let you do this. I... please, just let me be. You have won already, I am your wife. Please do not do this..."
My head screams at me, demanding to know why I am pleading with Emmanuel, of all people, but my heart sticks with me, telling me that this could possibly be the only reason for him to leave me alone.
"Eloise." Emmanuel rolls off of me and drags me into a sitting position. "Why do you not see? You do not have a choice. You are my wife, yes. It is my right and my duty to touch you and love you."
"Duty?" I whisper.
"The only reason I have married is because my mother needs grandchildren. Perhaps a family would be good for me, too." Emmanuel shrugs and I see something in his eyes I have not seen before.
Vulnerability.
"I am sorry. I love somebody else." I say, attempting not to let tears rule my impulsive eyes.
"Him again?! Damon?" Anger seeps into Emmanuel's eyes. "Why can you not let him go?! He has left you forever. For all you know, he could be rolling in the hay with some other servant girl!"
I gasp in outrage, "Damon would never do that to me!"
"Do you know what your flaw is?!" Emmanuel barks. "You are too naive! You trust people too easily!"
"I certainly do not!" I retort, clenching my fists. "I do not trust you!"
"You will learn to." Emmanuel spits out, glaring at me, the embers of a short-forgotten anger roaring back to life in his stormy eyes.
I shrink back and Emmanuel smirks.
"Are you still afraid of me?"
I straighten back up, frustrated at myself.
"Afraid of you? Why, that is like saying I am afraid of the mouse that scuttles beneath the floorboards!! Do not make me laugh, Emmanuel. Afraid of you! Hah!"
Emmanuel reaches forward, his hands twisting round my wrists and pulling me dangerously close.
My breathing hitches to a painfully fast rate, my wide-eyed gaze unable to rip itself from Emmanuel's face. The smirk is back again.
"Not afraid, are we?" Emmanuel cups the back of my head with his large paw, opting to capture both of my hands in his one hand, boasting of his physical superiority. His eyes close and he leans in closer, our noses joint like bridges for ants to cross. I can't stop myself from shivering and inching my head away from him, but Emmanuel just persists, following the motion of my face.
The door swings on its hinges and Rose strides in. Emmanuel jumps back in surprise and I run a shaky hand through my hair, silently thanking the heavens, silently thanking Damon, wherever he may be.
"Father-in-law is calling both of you." Rose states calmly, refusing to acknowledge what she has just witnessed.
I glance at Emmanuel and then jump off the bed hastily, sighing in relief...