Chapter Text
They did indeed pass a fine evening together. Francesca, determined to make the most of her newest audience member, demonstrated her mastery a few new (and a few unknown) composers, creating the perfect atmosphere for Gregory and Hyacinth to start dancing together.
Although Eloise was certain Cressida didn’t know all the ins and outs of the music (and neither did she herself, to be clear) she seemed moved by the merry scene before her, smiling along as Colin called out encouragement and Hyacinth tromped on Gregory’s toes. The conclusion of concert hour came about an hour before dinner, which Eloise spent giving Cressida a proper tour of the manor and telling her of certain fond memories she had associated with the place.
They themselves had spent a majority of their budding friendship outside on private walks, with only their maids to keep them company. However, this afternoon, Eloise saw an entirely different side of Cressida, one that, at first, hesitantly joined in the revelry of her siblings. She became more emboldened as time passed, making jokes of her own, remarking on the beauty of the estate, and pointing out (only a polite few) things that weren’t to her taste.
“I simply think her gown could use more accoutrements,” Cressida had argued at one point. They were staring at a portrait of Eloise’s great-great grandmother. Eloise had barely remembered that the painting existed, but Cressida spotted it a mile away.
“I shudder to think what you would do if you were a tailor.”
“Please,” Cressida said, throwing a playful glance over her shoulder. “The ton wouldn’t know what hit them.”
Dinner that evening was held in the green dining room, which came as a (minor) shock to Eloise, partially because she’d forgotten that Lady Danbury was also joining them for the evening. She counted this as a win, since she and Mamma would be too busy gossiping to pay much attention to what would surely be happening at the other end of the table. The room was what Colin playfully referred to as “formally informal,” used when the entire family was at residence, or when one two personal guests came to dine with them. Pale green flowers creeped up the wallpaper from the wainscoting, complimented by a similarly colored tablecloth and a set of dishes whose border featured delicately painted green jays.
The table seatings were arranged so that, in Anthony’s absence, Mamma was seated at the head of the table. Then, going around from her left, came Lady Danbury, Hyacinth, and Benedict. Francesca claimed the other end of the table, with Eloise seated next to her. On the one hand, sitting next to Francesca was always a pleasant experience, and on the other, Eloise cursed her unfortunate luck that Cressida, seated on her left, was directly across from Benedict. As they all took their seats, Benedict grinned at Eloise, sly, while Eloise alternated shooting glares at him and Mamma.
Once everyone was seated, the servants stepped forward to serve the appetizer: an elegantly plated salad. Eloise began eating while keeping her ears open for the conversation that she hoped would never come; unfortunately for her, Benedict had other plans. He waited until the chatter around the table had risen a considerable amount before smiling at Cressida.
“So, Miss Cowper,” Benedict said, stabbing at his salad. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something, but it never seemed to be the right moment.”
Thankfully, Cressida’s mouthful of salad prevented her from answering; Eloise could do the job for her. “Oh? And what could that be, Brother?”
“I was just wondering,” Benedict continued, wholly ignoring Eloise, “if you live on that side of the oak tree, if you take my meaning.”
That gave Eloise pause. She didn’t even know what that was supposed to mean, but Benedict’s tone made it clear that he was, perhaps as unsubtly as possible, referring to something else entirely. Cressida, whom Eloise considered the master of double entendre, picked up on it immediately. She swallowed down her bite with a sip of water and aimed a level-headed stare at Benedict.
“Are you referring to the one that bisects our properties?” she asked. Layered under her tone where a whole myriad of additional questions.
Benedict sat up straighter in his seat. Eloise understood that look: he’d found a worthy opponent. She glanced around the table to see if anyone else was paying attention to their little game, but Mamma had roped Colin into informing Lady Danbury all about his various travels. Gregory and Hyacinth were absorbed in an argument about, as far as Eloise could tell, proper dancing technique. The only person who most definitely was listening was Francesca, though with her eyes glued to her plate and face carefully devoid of expression, any outsider would assume she was lost in her own thoughts. Unfortunately, Eloise was no outsider; she knew her sister, and she knew that she was listening.
“Indeed,” Benedict was saying. “I’ve always thought it was lovely, but I was always interested in the goings-on of the other side.”
“Ah,” Cressida said. It was the ah of a person who’d caught onto the deeper meaning being applied to the words, which must be lovely. Eloise would love to have a similar epiphany, but the two of them continued on, uninterested in clueing her in. How could anyone focus on the first course under these circumstances?
“I have been interested, as well. I mean, I thought I might remain where I am, since it’s what everyone expects—”
“Hear, hear,” Benedict muttered.
“—And I wasn’t even sure where I’d go if I did decide to live on the other side, but I’m thinking…” She glanced at Eloise. Eloise had seen that soft and searching expression on her face before. She’d first caught sight of it a while back, at the lake, sharing a particularly funny anecdote. It had been returning more and more, lately, and now, at the dinner table, she wondered, not for the first time, what on earth it could mean.
“I’m thinking I might live on that side of the oak tree,” Cressida finished.
In spite of the innocuous sentence, Eloise still felt herself blush.
Benedict looked between the two of them, his gaze warm. Before he could speak, however, Gregory asked, “What on Earth are you two talking about? Property lines?”
"You’re too young to understand,” Benedict told him. Then, he gave a little nod to Cressida before took a helping bite of his salad. Cressida sat back in her chair with a pleased, self-satisfied smile. So, not only was that conversation finished, but it would seem that Cressida had come out of it on top. Eloise wasn’t sure if she should be worried about that or not, but they finished the first course in companionable conversation and Eloise figured she could relax just a little bit.
Mamma signaled for the dishes to switched out, and the first course plates and food were whisked away, to be replaced with the main meal: roasted duck in pear sauce, with potatoes and green vegetables. Wine was poured for those who would drink it, and Eloise dug into this plate with gusto. The salad had done little more than whet her appetite.
“Miss Cowper,” Mamma called a few minutes into the course, causing the table to fall silent. “I do hope you enjoy duck. With such short notice, I didn’t quite have the time to tell our cook to prepare something to your liking.”
“Part of the fault is mine,” Lady Danbury tacked on. “As I am quite fond of duck.”
“To be honest, I haven’t actually tried it before,” Cressida admitted. Eloise thought she wasn’t missing out on much. If you’d had one bird, you’d had them all, but Cressida continued on before Eloise could make that opinion known to the table. “My parents prefer to stick with more traditional options.”
“And how are Lord and Lady Cowper?”
“They are well. Getting ready to return to London, as I imagine everyone is. They’re probably eating dinner now as well.”
“Do you think they’re sad to be eating without you?” Hyacinth asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a meal with just two people.”
“It’s probably much quieter,” Gregory added.
“It tends to be quiet, regardless,” Cressida said. “We don’t speak much during mealtime.”
“But surely after? Do you play games together?”
“No. My parents don’t believe in fun.”
Her tone implied that the statement was meant to be a joke, but the resulting silence descending in the dining room around them indicated that no one interpreted it as such. Eloise opened her mouth to say something, but for once, nothing would come out. As if sensing that she’d made an error, Cressida rushed on to explain: “I mean, of course, we pass quiet evenings together, especially my mother and I, but we do not… talk.”
Eloise tried for a moment to imagine it: sitting in the drawing room with her siblings, everyone silently completing their business without the least bit interest in what anyone else was doing. It seemed a sorry way to carry on. A life like that would take its toll on those living it; Eloise saw that toll reflected in Cressida’s downcast smile and her ruthless behavior on the marriage mart. If that was the only way out, who wouldn’t fight to get ahead? Glancing around, she saw her own thoughts reflected in the faces of her siblings. Great, they’d made it depressing. Eloise cleared her throat.
“Yes, well,” she said. “We’ll be sure to show you a good time. I’m sure we can fit a few games into the schedule…?”
“We could play Kim’s game,” Francesca suggested, which effectively encouraged an argument into which games would be played in what order. While her siblings bickered, Cressida looked over to Eloise.
“Should I be worried about not being familiar with any of these games?”
“Not unless you’re extremely competitive. If Anthony were here, he’d already be mentally planning his strategy.”
Cressida paused to eat, watching the chaotic conversation, then leaned back over. “Is there anyone else I should be worried about, if not Lord Bridgerton?”
At that, Eloise couldn’t hide her wicked smile. “Me, obviously.”
~*~
As it turns out, Cressida needn’t have worried too much; most of the games picked by Eloise’s siblings turned out to require partners. Eloise easily roped her arm into Cressida’s, holding her partner close, lest someone else (Hyacinth) attempted to nab her. When tucked against her side, Cressida was warm; Eloise leaned into her and watched her siblings gather the materials for the first game.
Gregory had disappeared to put together a tray of miscellaneous objects. While he was gone, the others divided themselves up readily into new pairs. Mamma, of course, was working with Lady Danbury. Hyacinth threw an arm around Francesca’s waist, claiming someone older and presumably wiser to help toward victory. This left Colin with Benedict, which came as a concerning revelation to the younger brother.
“Why am I always stuck with Benedict,” Colin complained.
“It is difficult, being the smarter and more handsome member of our duo,” Benedict replied. He relished the laughter that followed, then patted Colin on the back. “Seeing as I am already carrying most of the weight, I don’t mind working alone for this round.”
“Go right ahead,” Colin declared. “And when I name more objects than you, we’ll see who’s carrying the most weight then.”
Without removing her eyes from the bickering, Cressida turned her head to the side and whispered softly, “Name objects?”
“Yes,” Eloise replied. “Gregory should be back shortly; whenever he returns, we’ll be given two minutes to memorize whatever he’s collected, and then two more minutes to write down as many of the objects as we can remember.”
“Seems simple enough.”
“The hard part are the ordinary items. The unique items are memorable, but the small, everyday objects? Not so much.”
Footsteps on the stairwell signaled Gregory’s return, and the teams gathered around as he placed his covered, laden-down tray on one of the small tables in the middle of the room.
With a sense of excitement, Gregory explained the rules of game for everyone. He produced a time piece from his pocket, which Eloise recognized as one of Anthony’s, and dramatically whipped the sheet off of the tray. It was littered with miscellaneous items. A single, gorgeous green earring, that he’d probably removed from one of Mamma’s jewelry boxes. A handful of marbles (9, to be exact) cluttered around writing utensils and small carved, wooden toys. Eloise studied, counted, and memorized as much as she could, but as usual, the time was over much too quickly. Gregory redonned the sheet, and from there it was time to write.
Eloise took a few seconds to scrawl down what she remembered while Cressida waited anxiously beside her. Once finished, she watched, fascinated, as Cressida took the pen and completed what she had started, adding details that she herself hadn’t noticed. Had there really been three random playing cards on there, as well as a butterfly hair pin? Around the room, the other pairs were just as intensely focused, but Benedict was pretending to copy down everything Colin wrote, and cheerfully dodged the faux-punches his brother threw his way.
They gathered back around when Gregory called time. Then began the recitation of what had been written. In spite of the bravado, Benedict and Colin both came up with the same number of items; they shook hands and vowed to join forces for the next round. Mamma and Lady Danbury came up with a high amount, setting them above Francesca and Hyacinth. Eloise allowed Cressida to do the honors, when their turn came. And once it became clear that their team had won, Eloise happily joined in Cressida’s revelry.
The game reset. Hyacinth traded places with Gregory, going to gather objects. They played two more rounds. Cressida was an excellent partner to have, and together they devised a straightforward strategy, splitting the tray in half. Eloise was responsible for everything on the right, Cressida, the items on the left. Eloise thought they put up a good fight, but Lady Danbury and Mamma came out on top, winning the next round and one after that.
Colin suggested switching the games at the conclusion of this third round. The partners shuffled with the games. Eloise splits unwillingly from Cressida and spent two rounds of Fox and Geese simultaneously leading Colin around, chasing Hyacinth and Gregory, and attempting to eavesdrop on Cressida and Benedict’s whispered conversation.
“They’re not talking about you, if that’s what your worried about,” Colin told her.
Eloise dragged him away from Gregory and to the relative safety of a corner. “I fear they’re plotting against me.”
“I wouldn’t have imagined that they could get along. Nor you and her, for that matter.”
“Well, we do. Is that a problem?”
“No,” Colin huffed. He bit his lip, watched as Cressida and Benedict, arm-in-arm, hustled away from Hyacinth. “But are things truly over with you and Penelope?”
Eloise rolled her eyes. Penelope and Cressida were as far apart in her mind as the sun and the moon. Cressida wasn’t a replacement for Penelope; she was too different. She wanted to interrogate him, to ask why he cared so much, to tell him, why don’t you ask her about it? But the sad, inquisitive look in his eyes cooled her tongue.
“We had a fight. I don’t know if I’m ready to… forgive and forget. I might be, one day, but not soon.”
Colin studied her. “You’re serious about this.”
“I am.” There was more she could’ve said: that the whole Penelope Debacle had brought her Cressida, which certainly softened her attitude toward Penelope, but she figured that would bring about a whole new line of inquiry that she wished to avoid. “Besides, if you’re so worried about her, why don’t you go and check in?”
Colin’s face went slack, as if that very idea hadn’t once occurred to him. Idiot, Eloise thought fondly. Around them, cheers and laughter erupted. Hyacinth, the quick fox, had managed to kill a goose. Benedict clutched his side and dramatically keeled over, collapsing onto the wooden rug. Hyacinth graciously accepted the applause, and then it was onto the next game: Blindman’s Bluff. Colin abandoned Eloise to go and fetch a blindfold while Mamma organized some of the servants. The furniture would have to be moved.
Lady Danbury watched the set-up with an amused smile. “Well, I am much too old to participate in such a game,” she announced, signaling to a maid to bring her a chair. “But someone should at least direct the poor victim.”
Eloise rejoined Cressida while her siblings chattered about their successes and losses over the course of the night. If her bright smile and flushed cheeks were anything to go by, Eloise thought, spending an evening in good company agreed with her well.
“How are you doing?”
“I really hoped to win that last one. Your siblings are fast.”
“They’ve had years of practice.” Eloise glanced to make sure that they were busy arguing, then leaned over and whispered, “They wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but Gregory and Hyacinth have been keeping tally of who wins the most games between them; they’re also fiercely competitive. I think Hyacinth learned it from Anthony.”
Colin returned with a length of cloth. To determine who would go first, they drew straws. Gregory lost.
“Now let me see that blindfold,” Benedict said, taking it from Colin. “Last time, you could see straight through it.” He pressed it tight to his eyes, then declared, “It’s thick enough.”
Placing his hand on Gregory’s forehead, he pushed his bangs out of the way to tie the cloth into place over his eyes.
“This all seems…” Cressida started, surveying the servants as they shuffled sofas and end tables out of the way.
“Like a spectacularly bad idea?” Eloise asked. “You’d be right. We can’t work together on this one. It’s every woman for herself. You have one job: don’t get caught.”
“Is that all?”
Eloise was already moving away, toward her preferred starting point, by the window. Benedict was spinning Gregory around and around. “That’s all. Be ready to run.”
Cressida mimicked her position, scooching away from Gregory to hug the walls. Once everyone was in position, the game began. Eloise, employed her usual survival tactic: stay in one place until it was time to run. Unfortunately for her, Lady Danbury seemed well-aware of her plan; she directed Gregory immediately to head left toward the window.
Eloise bumped into Cressida on her path to escape and dragged her out of the way, all the way around the perimeter of the room. Once Lady Danbury moved on to a more secure target, Eloise squeezed Cressida’s hand before separating, migrating away from where Gregory was cornering Benedict and toward the entryway door.
They played two rounds of Bluff. Francesca lost round one, graciously accepting defeat as Gregory encircled her in a hug. Francesca managed to capture Hyacinth, and now Hyacinth was prowling around the room, on the hunt for her next victim.
Eloise came to a stop by Lady Danbury at the fireplace. Mamma stood by her other side, a hand pressed to her stomach as she laughed at some joke. Across the room, Hyacinth walked slowly toward Colin with her arms outstretched.
“A little further forward, you’ve got someone in your sights!” Lady Danbury called.
“He might let her win,” Mamma said.
Eloise scoffed. “No, he’s waiting for the last minute to dodge. Watch.”
Hyacinth continued at her same pace; once she was two paces away, Colin easily side-stepped her, waited for her to pass him, then reached out and tapped her shoulder. She whipped around and gave chase.
“There, see?”
“And what are you doing over here, Miss Bridgerton?”
“Hiding, of course.”
Her mother clucked her tongue. “Eloise, you’re young, you should be out there entertaining your guest and participating—”
“Trust me, Cressida is thoroughly entertained—Look, Hyacinth is chasing her around right now— and I am participating! I’m merely taking a break. Running around isn’t easy, you know—”
Mamma opened her mouth to answer, but something across the room caught her eye and forced her to do a double take. From her chair, Lady Danbury began to stand, one arm already stretching out as if to prevent whatever was happening. Eloise followed their panicked expressions across the room to see Hyacinth and Cressida falling in a tumble onto the decorative suit of armor in the corner.
Eloise didn’t feel herself move— one moment, she was with Lady Danbury by the fireplace, and by the next, she was standing above the Hyacinth-Cressida heap on the hardwood floor. Pieces of metal littered the area around them; the sound of the crash lingered in Eloise’s ears. She could even almost hear it over her own pounding pulse. All the other injuries over the years from played this damned game sprung into her mind: the twin, throbbing knots on Anthony’s and Benedict’s foreheads; Lord Grousing’s sprained back from that one eventful evening in London; her own broken wrist, which has hurt like hell and taken months to heal.
Her brothers had begun to sort out the mess and help everyone up. Off came the blindfold from around Hyacinth’s eyes, and with Benedict’s help she climbed to her feet. Eloise glanced over her to ensure that she was not injured, and once satisfied that she was alright her attention was pulled to Cressida.
Immediately, Eloise noticed something was wrong. Colin knelt on one knee beside her, a hand braced against her back to help her sit up, but her face was contorted into an unpleasant shape. Eloise’s gaze bounced from her face to her shoulders to her hands and wrists, which all appeared unharmed. Perhaps it was just a momentary pain, stinging after the initial fall? But no, Cressida gasped when she shifted her leg, a sharp intake of breath, and Eloise tracked the movement down to her ankle.
In the fall, her dress had ridden up a few inches. Cressida’s right ankle was rapidly swelling; it was noticeably larger than the left. Eloise looked from the ankle to Colin to Mamma, whose cheery disposition had disappeared.
“Eloise,” she said, voice tight, “Would you please give Cressida some support?”
Without hesitation, Eloise switched places with Colin, steadying her with one arm and taking one of her hands with the other.
“It’s going to be alright,” she said, offering a reassuring smile.
Cressida’s expression morphed from pain to panic. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you think something is broken?”
“No, of course not,” Elosie said. Benedict and Colin had reported to Lady Danbury. She was telling them to take a carriage and fetch the nearest doctor. Gregory had one arm wrapped around Hyacinth. “If it were broken, it would hurt a lot more.”
“It hurts plenty now!” Cressida said. Her voice was dangerously close to a shriek.
Mamma shot her a look as she bent to better inspect Cressida’s ankle. “May I, dear?”
Hesitantly, Cressida nodded her assent, her grip on Eloise’s hand tightening as Mamma tugged off her heel and removed her sock. Underneath, a huge knot had formed on her ankle. It was rapidly taking on a bluish-purple tinge. Seeing it brought a sense of relief to Eloise; all things considered, she thought it could’ve looked worse, but one glance at Cressida’s horrified expression convinced her to keep that thought to herself. Instead, she squeezed her hand again, murmuring quiet affirmations while Mamma rose to counsel with Lady Danbury.
“I’ve seen a lot of injuries in this game,” Eloise told Cressida, “And I think you’ll recover nicely.”
Cressida swallowed a few calming breaths. “It’s not so bad when I don’t move it.”
“Perfect. All there is left to do is to not move it until it’s healed. I suppose you’ll have to move in.”
Cressida offered Eloise a wobbly smile. Eloise took the win and prepared to say more, but a sob caught her attention.
“I’m so sorry!” Hyacinth cried. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Eloise moved to comfort her sister, but then remembered that she was helping Cressida sit up.
Francesca wrapped their sister up in a hug, but Hyacinth was looking at Cressida. For a moment, Cressida seemed unsure as to the best course of action, but then shifted more of her weight to Eloise and beckoned Hyacinth closer. Once Hyacinth knelt by her side, Cressida clutched one of Hyacinth’s hand.
“Of course it was an accident,” she assured her. “Unfortunate, but I promise you: I’ve never had more fun than the moments prior to our untimely fall.”
Hyacinth’s lips trembled. She was holding on to Cressida’s every word. “Are you certain?”
"I am. Besides, I’m more glad that you’re alright.”
Cressida extended her free arm, and Hyacinth took her up on the offer of a tentative hug. In spite of the situation, something warm blossomed in Eloise’s chest. She hadn’t been worried that her family wouldn’t like Cressida, but to see her folded in so well relieved some tension that she hadn’t been aware of.
“We should move to her a guest room,” Francesca interrupted, causing everyone to fall silent. “She obviously can’t go home like this.”
Eloise blinked at her sister. She was right. Cressida could barely move her foot; there was no way that she would hold up in a carriage, no matter how short the ride. Her evening with the Bridgertons would have to be extended. Mamma had taken up her classic worried look, mouth pinched to the side, but Lady Danbury tapped her cane against the hardwood.
“I’ll go to the Cowper Estate myself,” she announced. “I’ll tell them what happened, and once the doctor has looked over her, you can send him my way with an update.”
“It’s a good idea,” Mamma said.
“Then I shall make haste,” Lady Danbury said. “Mr. Bridgerton, will you help me prepare for the journey?”
Gregory jumped to attention. “Of course!”
Together, they departed, and Mamma bustled upstairs to prepare a room for Cressida’s impromptu arrival Mamma rushed upstairs with a few servants to ensure that a guest room was prepared. With Eloise on side and Francesca on the other, they managed to get Cressida onto her good foot. Their trio made slow progress out of the parlor and up the grand stairwell.
Along the way, Eloise told Cressida about her broken wrist all those years ago. She managed to get a few startled laughs out of her on the way, which Eloise hoped took her mind off of the pain. Upstairs, they settled Cressida onto the bed in the hurriedly prepared guest room and shared more stories of various incidents and accidents. That was how her brothers found them when they returned, doctor in tow: Mamma pacing at the edge of the bed while Eloise and her siblings posted at various spots around the room, each contributing bits and pieces to the stories they were telling. Eloise was seated in the plush armchair next to the bed, Cressida’s hand clutched in her own. Cressida was laughing just enough for Eloise to almost forget that she was in pain.
Almost.
Doctor Edmunds was a portly fellow; the brown pants and blue jacket of his hastily thrown-together ensemble poorly accentuated his figure. His hair looked as though it had been finger-combed in the carriage, but his dark eyes scanned the room and settled on Cressida’s ankle with a sharp alertness, in spite of the hour.
“Viscountess Bridgerton,” he said, dropping into a short bow. “Your boys informed me of the situation.” He patted the black utensil bag clutched in his right hand. “I’ve brought with me all the tools for a medical examination, but if it’s as they say, I’m sure it won’t be necessary to do anything drastic.” He turned to Cressida. “Miss Cowper, if I may, ma’am?”
Cressida shifted in the bed but nodded. From his seat on the window, Gregory asked, “Are you certain that you won’t have to use those scary tools?”
“How else will you make sure her ankle is okay?” Hyacinth said.
Here, Eloise interjected that the first assessment was usually tactile, the determination of whether or not a bone was broken—
“Alright,” Mamma announced, with some consternation. “Let’s give her some privacy, please. It’s time you all headed to bed, in any case.”
From her place on the armchair, Eloise watched her siblings file out, smug, but then Mamma turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “You too, Eloise.”
“But—”
“She can stay—”
“It isn’t proper,” Mamma said, silencing them both.
Eloise squeezed Cressida’s hand and rose reluctantly from her seat, casting a final glance at Doctor Edmunds before waving good-bye to Cressida. She smiled back, and then Mamma was ushering her out of the threshold and closing the wooden door after her. In the hallway, Eloise eyed her siblings. Benedict and Colin had already disappeared; Gregory and Hyacinth lingered by the door, as if the Doctor would open the door only seconds later and announce a bill of perfect health. After a moment of silence, they parted ways as well, stalking down the hall to their bedrooms. This left Eloise alone with Francesca.
“By the way, whatever all that was at dinner,” Francesca said, reaching out touching Eloise’s arm, “I want you to know: I love you a lot.”
“I know,” Eloise replied, squinting at her. Dinner seemed so far away, now. “I love you, too. But what’s that got to do with the conversation at dinner—”
“—And I like Cressida. I think you make a good match.”
With that, she drifted away, leaving Eloise blubbering for a moment. She called after her, “As friends, right?”
Francesca glanced back, her brown eyes alight with mystery. She didn’t answer.
“Francesca, as friends?”
Francesca disappeared around the corner. Excellent. And here she thought Benedict was bad.
~*~
With going to bed the only thing left to do, Eloise set about doing just that. Her hair undone and prepped for the night, jewelry put away, dress swapped for a night gown. She laid in bed for about five minutes and gave sleeping her absolute best effort, but having gone to bed without saying a proper good night to Cressida was keeping her up. How was her ankle? Would she be alright? How was Eloise expected to sleep in this condition?
You could just go check, you know, a small part of her brain reminded her. She’d spent more than enough time sneaking through the halls when she was younger. She wanted to do that with Cressida, to venture to her room and stay with her all night, instead of spending it alone in her dreary bedroom. That injury could not be how they ended their night. Eloise wouldn’t allow it to be.
Propelled by these thoughts, she slipped out of bed and threw on a robe before beginning her mission. She peeked her head out of her door, found no one in the hall, and as stealthily as she could manage, but of course, Benedict just had to be walking down the hall once she turned the corner.
She briefly entertained the idea of ducking behind a pillar and letting him pass, but quickly dismissed it. She had nothing to hide. Unlike herself, he was still fully dressed for the evening, with a hat clutched in his right hand; he was going out. Once he caught sight of her, his face broke into a huge smile.
“Going somewhere, Sister?”
“I am, though it’s absolutely none of your business.”
“A midnight visit to Miss Cowper? Quite the scandal.”
“It is not nearly so late,” Eloise protested. She also felt the need to point out that she’d done the same thing with Penelope many times, and Benedict tsked as though he were disappointed.
“For some reason, I get the feeling that this is different. And if you exercise that big brain of yours,” he said, attempting to flick her temple as she swatted him away, “I think you’ll figure out why.”
He started down the hall, tipping his hat onto his head. Eloise rolled her eyes, walking past him toward the guest room, but before she could turn the corner, Benedict called out to her again.
“Oh, and Sister?”
Eloise sighed, impatient, and turned to glare at him. “What?”
“I was wrong about Miss Cowper,” he said. The silliness from the previous moments had vanished completely; in its place was a serious sort of sincerity. “She is definitely our type of people.”
“Don’t start with this again,” Eloise hissed. She shooed him away and watched him disappear, laughing, down the stairs.
She shook her head fondly as she completed her journey to the guest room. If Benedict were anything, she thought, he was a pretty good judge of character. It made her feel nice, knowing that he approved of Cressida.
In front of the guest room door, she paused, hand raised to knock. Knowing Cressida, she probably needed every minute of her beauty sleep, and certainly an injury would only magnify that need. She let the hopes of an extended sojourn dim down a bit, resolving not to overstay her welcome, should Cressida let her in. With that, she knocked quietly and stepped back to wait for answer.
“Come in!”
Eloise pushed open the door and popped her head inside. Cressida was sitting against the headboard, her ankle wrapped in cloth and propped up under several pillows.
“Oh,” Cressida said. “I thought you were Lady Bridgerton again.”
“Again?”
Cressida ushered her closer and Eloise crept inside, closing the door behind her. She made her way to the bed while Cressida spoke. “Your mother just came in to check that I was comfortable.”
“And are you?” Eloise asked. She’d settled herself on the edge of the bed. “Comfortable, I mean.”
“Yes, very. And I think my ankle is feeling better already.” To demonstrate her recovery, she wiggled her foot, then cringed.
“Let’s take it easy,” Eloise laughed. “Better is not recovered.”
“Agreed.” Cressida picked at a loose thread in the blanket. Sensing she had more to say, Eloise settled herself more comfortably on the bed. The guest room, with its soft pink wallpaper and cherry wood furniture, fit Cressida’s aesthetic quite well, she thought. A pity that the room and its occupant weren’t closer to her own.
“Your mother also gave me a quick update,” Cressida said. “The doctor will return in the morning, as will my parents and Lady Danbury.”
“Do you think they’ll be put out, hosting Lady Danbury?”
“I doubt it. To host someone so close to the Queen? No, they’ll be ecstatic. I think they’d be more worried that I’m imposing on you all.”
Eloise couldn’t help the scoff that arose at that statement, and Cressida smiled. “I actually tried to apologize to your mother. She did the same thing.”
“Good.”
“She also said that she enjoyed having me over. Apparently, I made quite the impression over the course of the evening. She thinks that we should be never stop being friends.”
“…Is that what she said?”
Cressida sniffed. “Not in quite so many words.” Cressida said, nose in the air, then smiled when Eloise laughed. “I’m glad you’re here, but should you not be asleep?”
“Hmm. When we were younger, Penelope used to stay over all the time during the summer,” Eloise confessed. She couldn’t reach Cressida’s eyes, opting instead to study the fluffy pillow right by her head. “When it was completely quiet in the halls, I would sneak out of my room and join her in her usual guest room, and we would pass the entire night talking or reading by candlelight. It’d been a while since we’d done that, even before our argument,” she pressed on, the memory of those nights bittersweet on her tongue. In spite of the rage and betrayal, she could not help tacking onto the end: “I miss it.”
Cressida watched her quietly for a moment. Somewhere in the house, a door opened and shut. The wood in the fireplace crackled as it split and burned. The thought that she should probably leave Cressida alone for the evening sprung into her head right as Cressida patted the empty space beside her.
“As you can see, there’s plenty of room, here, if you’d like to stay the night,” she said, and Eloise’s heart soared. “My company might not be as informative as Penelope’s—”
“Oh nonsense,” Eloise interjected. “In all honesty, I came with the intention of asking if I could stay, but I did not mean to exhaust you. Even if we were on speaking terms, there’s no one else with whom I’d rather spend the night.”
With that, Eloise kicked off her slippers, shifting herself on the bed so that she was side-by-side with Cressida, but fully leaned against the headboard whereas her friend was more reclined. She then set about getting comfortable, a process which relied upon Cressida donating one of her pillows to the cause. She offered one from the pile under her ankle, which Eloise gladly accepted. Back support now in place, she lifted her hips and rearranged her night gown to allow her to pull her legs up and sit cross-legged on the bed.
“Settled?” Cressida asked, once Eloise had stopped squirming.
“Settled.” She confirmed. They sat in their respective poses in silence, taking in the change. It’d been… forever, since Eloise had been in this room in particular. She thought briefly of her own bed, a world away, and the novel feeling of doing something new, something not-quite allowed washed over her. From the corner of her eye, she caught Cressida’s gaze; nothing in the world could’ve stopped the giggles that burst out of them.
“I feel so mischievous,” Cressida whispered. “What would someone think if they were to come in?”
“At this hour, absolutely no one would think of disturbing an honored guest, and especially not if she’s on the brink of death.”
“It is not that bad. I’ll be fine by the morning.”
At that, Eloise felt the oddest tinge of regret. Not because Cressida would be healed by then (she didn’t want her friend to suffer unnecessarily) but because then their time together tonight would end, in spite of it having only just begun. Before she could voice any of these thoughts, however, Cressida delicately turned onto her side and asked, “So what do we do now?”
Eloise tucked away her thoughts. “Anything we want. But whatever we do, we must do it with the goal of staying wake as long as possible. Preferably until sunrise.”
“Why sunrise specifically?”
“So that then we can say that we stayed up the full night, but there’ll still be a few hours for us to sleep before everyone actually awakens.”
“Hm…” Cressida’s eyes drifted to the side. She was very cute when was thinking; in particular, Eloise liked that little crease in between her eyebrows. She wanted to reach out and smooth it out, but then worried that might distract Cressida from her train of thought.
“I know I said that my family doesn’t believe in playing games,” she said, “but when I was younger, my mother and I used to spend hours playing this one game. I had wanted to suggest it after dinner, but there were so many people, and I think it’s best a two-player game.”
“I’m amenable to that,” Eloise said. Then, carefully, “Are you and your mother particularly close?”
Whatever excitement that had blossomed in Cressida’s expression dimmed immediately at the mention of her family. Eloise would’ve kicked herself, but Cressida just cleared her throat and said: “we were, when I was younger. That’s true for both of my parents, I think. But the older I became, the more all three of us… drifted apart. Entering my third season on the marriage market is certainly no additional help to our relationship.” Here she paused, her gaze drifting around the room. “They love me, in their own way. I just… have not felt like we were a true family for a long time."
“You said something like that earlier today, when we were at the lake.”
Cressida smiled, but it wasn’t her usual self-confident look; this one betrayed a hint of that sadness and jealousy Eloise had seen shortly after their arrival. “No sumo wrestling adventures at the Cowper Estate, I’m afraid,” Cressida said, her smile turning genuine when that startled a laugh out of Eloise. She continued: “After spending the evening here and seeing up close for myself how you all get along, I just wish. I could’ve had something similar.”
Eloise hesitated, then offered Cressida a hand. “I cannot proclaim to know the future,” she said, “But I think, eventually, you’ll have the family you deserve.”
“Thank you, Eloise,” Cressida replied. She wrapped up Eloise’s hands in her own. The light from the fireplace reflected warmly in her blue eyes. “I think I might already be on that path.”
Eloise nodded once. “Good. So, tell me about this game.”
“Right! So, it’s very simple, and we don’t need anything special to play…”
Eloise listened to her friend explain the rules in rapt attention. It was simple enough in theory; when a question was asked, the first word of the answer had to rhyme with the last word of the question. In practice, the result was a shocking amount of laughter and words made up to rhyme so as not to forfeit the point. At a certain point, Eloise had to sneak into the library to steal the dictionary and prove that her rhyming word, pandiculation, was actually a word and could indeed be used to improve circulation. They passed an enjoyable bit of time with Cressida’s game, before eventually using the dictionary to search for funny words and definitions. For all the artfully selected furniture in the room, there was no clock. At the suggestion that they keep track by watching the moon, Eloise climbed out of bed to throw back the curtains and reveal that, by her estimation, the full moon had pulled itself a little past halfway in the night.
“You know,” Cressida said from the bed. “You’re beautiful, too.”
Eloise froze. “…Pardon?”
“You called me splendorous when we were on the way to the lake. I wanted you to know that I think you’re resplendent.”
Eloise felt suddenly self-conscious, with her hair down and long, shapeless nightgown. But Cressida’s eyes were intent on her. She opened her mouth to say more, but then her stomach rumbled, loud enough for Eloise to hear, and the spell that had fallen over the moonlit room broke.
“Snacks!” Eloise yelped. She hoped that she was not as red as her cheeks felt. “I’ll go get some.”
“Eloise—”
“Not to worry,” Eloise was saying. She was already heading toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”
In the cool safety of the kitchen, she fanned herself until her blush faded, then loaded a tray with some biscuits and jam before hauling it upstairs. She paused outside of Cressida’s door, just to gather herself, then reentered.
Cressida squinted at her as she unloaded the tray, but if she had something to say, she kept her thoughts to herself. Eloise settled back down as they nibbled, and when Cressida asked her thoughts on what the newest opera in the city might be, Eloise was more than happy to oblige her. Once the tray was finished, it was placed onto the bedside table, and they passed time whispering, laughing, and passing secrets.
At a certain point, they’d ended up laid on their backs next to each other. The sky was becoming pinker and pinker as the moon sunk behind the trees. It’d be sunrise soon. To the ceiling, Cressida said, “Can I tell you something?”
Sleep was tugging Eloise’s eyelids closed. They’d been talking about something, but now, Eloise couldn’t remember what it was, exactly, just the comforting sound of Cressida’s quiet murmuring. When she hummed, Cressida shifted beside her, from the sound of it, flipping onto her back.
“I was always jealous of Penelope,” Cressida whispered to the ceiling. Eloise cracked her eyes open to peek at her, but Cressida was staring resolutely straight ahead.
“Even when we were young, you were so outspoken with your ideas, always running around with your brothers, free in a way what I never was.” Her voice trembled, and Eloise, compelled, reached across the soft cotton to grip her hand. “It seemed to me that, just by association, Penelope was able enjoy the benefits of that freedom. And now, by some miracle, I’ve taken her place, and I feel freer than ever before. Like I could do anything. Like I could have what I want.”
Cressida’s words washed over Eloise. There was much she wanted to say, that the feelings welling in her chest were incomparably different to what she feels for Penelope. That she’d never wanted to card her fingers through Penelope’s hair, or be close enough to smell her perfume, or trace her outline as she laid next to her. Eloise said none of this, instead turning onto her side, propped on her elbow, and whispered softly, “What is it you want?”
As if emboldened by her sleep-deprived drunkenness, Cressida shifted carefully and placed one hand over Eloise’s. The tiredness had fallen away from Eloise; every part of her vibrated with sudden nerves. In the early morning light, Cressida’s eyes were a brilliant, shining blue. A thousand conversations with her family, about what love makes one do, how it makes one feel, flashed through her mind. She thought on Benedict’s teasing grin in the hall. He was right; she had figured it out. She knew what answer she was hoping for.
“You, Eloise,” Cressida said. “I want you.”
In that moment, it was the easiest and hardest thing in the world for Eloise to lean forward. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and didn’t relax until she felt Cressida’s lips press against her own, until Cressida’s hand came up to cup her cheek. Eloise sighed; Cressida’s lips were softer than she’d imagined, and warm. She suddenly understood why her siblings remained attached to their spouses; if she had her way, she would kiss Cressida forever. Eloise dropped a hesitant hand onto Cressida’s hip, started to move closer—
A sharp intake of breath. Cressida pulled away and Eloise recoiled, worried something had gone wrong, Cressida held her in place. “It’s alright, it’s my ankle,” she said. Cressida studied Eloise, her pinched expression settling back into something calm, contented, and more than a little sleepy.
“Can I come closer?” Eloise asked. Cressida smiled, nodded her assent.
Carefully, they rearranged themselves. Cressida returned to her back, and Eloise curled into her shoulder. The barest hint of blue was emerging through the hazy oranges and purples. It was going to be a beautiful day.
“Sun’s coming up,” Eloise murmured. Cressida hummed; the sound reverberated right through to Eloise’s core.
“What shall do now?”
Eloise let her eyes flutter closed. There would be much to discuss in the morning, parents and doctors and knowing siblings. Cressida’s arm cradled her side. She’d worry about that later.
“Sleep.”