Chapter 5: Chapter Four

RECAP:

"Well, I see I cannot get you to see it from my point of view." Emmanuel states, looking away from me into the distance.

"No. You cannot." I say, untying Chastity, hopping on to her and galloping off, leaving Emmanuel to stare at me in disbelief. Mary walks after me, looking back at Emmanuel, chewing her lip nervously...

Mary has just pinned my shawl back on me, my hair already fastened into a loose bun at the nape of my neck when Mother storms into my room, her face crimson with rage. She grabs my forearms in a vice-like grip, bruises flowering at her touch, “Why did you leave Emmanuel in the gardens alone?”

I look up at her, “Mother, there is nothing wrong with letting him have some peace!”

“He wanted to talk to you, Eloise! I cannot believe you would argue with him on his first night here.”

I free myself from Mother's grip, walking over to the bed and leaning against the post. “Mother, leave it alone.”

“No, I shall not!” Mother hisses, “How dare you try to ruin this? Do you know what happens to a girl whose engagement has been broken?!”

“Mother!” I turn to face her, “Yes, I do. Do you want to know what happened last night? Well, listen. He was unhappy with the fact that I am Damon's friend. He had the audacity to call Damon a 'mere servant boy'. I'm not going to tolerate that, Mother, not from anyone.”

“You silly girl!” Mother grabs both of my arms, forcing me to stare up into her clear eyes, “You have to stop recklessly protecting everyone you love! No matter what he said, a lady – a true lady – never raises her voice upon a man. Especially if she is going to be married to that same  man.”

“Mother, why do you only see my mistakes?” I ask of the woman who birthed me seventeen years ago, only to rear me so she could bundle me off at this moment, “Why can you not see what Emmanuel did?”

“Emmanuel?! Emmanuel?! How can you address him so informally? It is most disrespectful of a woman to do that, Eloise. Have you forgotten everything I taught you? The values, the rules, the requirements of society? What has gotten into you, Eloise?”

“Nothing has gotten into me, Mother. In fact, I cannot think of one reason that you had to betroth me to that man.”

“That man is going to be your husband, Eloise!” Mother snaps, “Clear your mind of all doubts, of all unruliness. You must start thinking of yourself a married woman. You must not keep committing these foolish mistakes. He shan't put up with it for long. You are lucky he has not informed his mother about your ghastly demeanour.”

“What ghastly demeanour, Mother? I have not done anything wrong.”

Mother connects the back of her hand to my cheek without an inch of remorse, my whole head snapping to the side from the sickening impact. I stare at the ground, tears piercing my eyes, my cheeks stinging, my temper flaring.

“When you come down for dinner, ensure that your manners have been set to rights. I will send Master Emmanuel and you for a walk. I expect you to apologise to Master Emmanuel for your behaviour and that you act like the perfect lady – flawless. Have I made myself clear?”

Clenching my jaw, I reply, “Yes, Mother.”

“And tomorrow, you must be ready to leave by seven am.”

“Why, Mother?”

“We are going to see some designers concerning your engagement dress.”

“My engagement dress?” I echo.

“Yes, Eloise, your engagement dress. You are getting engaged next week. Congratulations.”

The word 'congratulations' has some mirth in it, a rejoice, a celebration. However, when Mother says it, there is no  emotion, no joy; just the stony, cold-blooded woman who I have got to know these past seventeen years.

Mother spins and glides out of the room, her nose stuck in the air.

Mary takes me in her arms, “Oh, Eloise. Are you okay, my darling?”

I shake my head, pulling myself from her embrace, “We have an hour until dinner, I have some time on my hands. Get me Damon.”

“Do you really think that is appropriate, given the current circumstances?” Mary wavers.

“Mary!” I exclaim, “Please. Do this for me, just this once.”

Mary sighs in defeat, “I shall be right back, Miss Eloise.”

She dashes out of the room, muttering to herself in agitation.

I sigh, going over to the tall mirror and examining myself, my womanly curves that are just beginning to emerge, my rolling locks and my feminine heart-shaped face. If I were a man, if these female features of mine did not exist, none of this fuss would exist in my life. No one would judge me on the company I kept; on how I spoke; on how flawless my etiquette was or on what I chose to wear each day. No one woiuld concern themselves on whom I was going to marry, or how many kids I would choose to have, or how educated I would choose to be. They would leave me alone, just because I was a man. If only I was a man.

If only...

There's a flutter of murmurs and Damon bursts into the room, his eyes scanning the room for me. Mary stands behind him, anxiously rubbing her hands together. I run to Damon, to my best friend, sobbing and wrapping my arms around him, burying my face in the crevice of his neck, “Damon, it's terrible! It's all going wrong. Mother says she is getting me engaged next week! I hate him! I positively hate him.”

Damon pushes me back, pushing me towards a stool. He shoves my shoulders gently downwards so I am seated and kneels in front of me, his hands resting on my knees. I look at him, tears streaming from my eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Damon asks me, staring deep into my soul, “Why are you crying? Because you are to be engaged? This should be one of the happiest days of your life! You are to be married to a respectable man who will take you on trips all over the world and you will have children who will call you Mummy and stain your petticoats – ”

“I don't want any of that!” I hiss at Damon, “I do not want to be engaged or married. I do not want to travel around the world, I do not care for spoilt little children soiling my petticoats! Not if it means that you are required to leave me.”

Damon's eyes sparkle in the light, wet with appreciative tears, “We are best friends, Eloise. But even the bestest of friends have limits to take into account.”

“What are you saying?” I stare deep into his clear eyes.

“I am saying that maybe I have complicated your life enough. We are not seven years old any more; we do not play on sand-filled beaches, we do not run through muddy tenements, we do not dig the soil for worms and insects any longer. There are divisions between us and those have been amplified since your betrothal. You must commit yourself to your marriage and to your husband-to-be.”

“No!” I stand, almost knocking Damon over. He rises to his feet steadily, just watching me with those all-knowing eyes of his. I stride over to the windows, looking down at the gardens surrounding our house, “I shan't. I shan't do anything that results in our friendship being risked. Damon, you mean everything to me. You are the only thing that has kept me sane through these years.”

Damon places a soft hand on my shoulder, “I may be your best friend, but Emmanuel is to be your husband. No one is going to ask me to leave you, Eloise. I shall always be by your side, but you must prioritise.” Damon turns me to face him and cups my face in his large hands, “Eloise, you must be wise. There are people out there waiting for you to trip up, waiting to critise, waiting to judge you. Don't give them the chance to do that. You know better than to do that; you are better. Accept this marriage and prove them wrong. Most of all, prove me right.”

Damon presses his lips against my forehead before turning on his heel and leaving the room. I stare longingly after him.

What I would do to switch places with Damon!

Sighing, I turn back to the window, leaning my head against the glass, staring out at the motionless, manicured garden before my eyes...

P.S. The picture is of Eloise's house, or what I think it should look like, anyway.