Chapter Text
Rain drummed against the car window as it drove down the narrow country road. Eloise had been dozing, but was nudged awake by Francesca.
“We’re almost there, El.” Francesca turned in the passenger seat. “John wants you to experience the moment when we pull into the driveway and enter the grounds.” Eloise rubbed her eyes.
“You’ve been talking this up ever since we left Mayfair, it better be worth it John,” she said in a teasing tone.
Francesca and John had been dating less than a year when they got engaged, and they had the wedding shortly after, a small ceremony surrounded by family at Bridgerton House. It had been rather fast, a little too fast for Eloise’s liking, but she knew her sister didn’t do things on impulse, and it didn’t seem like John did, either. She and her sister were different people who wanted different things out of life, and Eloise was confident in her choices. The more time she spent with them, the more Eloise saw how well they complemented each other. John was, without a doubt, one of the kindest people Eloise had ever known, and it warmed her heart to see how he treated Fran with such gentle love. As the two biggest introverts of the family, Eloise and Francesca had always talked about wanting partners who knew the value of quiet spaces and alone time, and Eloise knew that John understood those things well.
So it shouldn’t have been too surprising when, after learning about Eloise’s stressful term of grad school, he and Francesca invited her to spend part of the summer at the Kilmartin estate in the Scottish Highlands. Pursuing a Master’s degree in Humanities at Cambridge, Eloise had spent the spring as a teaching assistant for the Women’s, Gender and Queer History course. It confirmed for her that she did not have a desire to become a professor. While some aspects of the work had been fulfilling, the rest of it had left her completely drained. Planning class discussions and lectures, reading hundreds of pages of student essays, while also working on her own capstone paper had taken its toll. Eloise saw how much academia could overtake one’s life and knew she needed a better balance. Francesca reassured Eloise that coming with her and John to Scotland wasn’t an intrusion on their lives. It would give her the kind of rest that she needed, a rest that she wouldn’t get if she stayed at home, with their family constantly coming and going and their mother always hovering over one of them.
The prospect of not becoming her mother’s “summer project” sealed it for Eloise, so now here she was, sitting in a car with her sister and brother-in-law as they drove through the rainy Scottish countryside. John looked at her through the rear view mirror and smiled warmly.
“Trust me, El, you’ll understand when you see it. It’s like…being able to breathe again. At least, that’s how I feel every time I come home.”
Francesca nodded in agreement and lovingly squeezed John’s arm.
“I can’t wait to show you around,” she said, turning back to Eloise. “The manor house is over 300 years old.”
Eloise looked out the car window. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, improving the visibility. They had just turned onto a long, dirt and gravel road lined on each side by ivy covered dry stone walls. The fields were covered in tall green grass, broken up by gentle hills and livestock shelters, where cattle and sheep huddled from the weather.
“Are your family farmers, John?” Eloise asked, seeing the animals.
John chuckled. “No, but our neighbors are. We let Mr. Boydin graze his sheep and cows on our property. It helps maintain the land, and in return his family gives us milk, cheese, and meat that they process themselves. My dad struck up the agreement with them decades ago and it’s worked out splendidly. Mrs. Boydin is our housekeeper, so it seemed only natural.”
“Oh, wait till you meet her, El,” Francesca said. “She’s an absolute gem!” Eloise smiled. She’d always had a soft spot for their own housekeeper, Mrs. Wilson. This thought was abruptly cut off, however, when Eloise turned back to the window and gasped.
They were crossing a wooden bridge over a wide stream, the bank studded with moss covered stones. Up ahead was the front gate, a giant, ancient linden tree looming over the left side. John rolled down his window and typed in a passcode on the keypad next to the gate, and it slid open.
“Welcome to the Kilmartin Estate, Eloise,” he said, smiling with pride.
The manor house had been partially hidden by the linden tree, but as they drove through the gate, it came into full view. It was made of dark gray stone, with ornate decorative carvings on the blocks that bordered the rooftop. A large chimney sat on either side, puffing slow streams of smoke into the air. The front of the house was lined with flower beds of poppies and rose bushes, their pastel colors in full bloom with shades of red, white, peach, and others Eloise couldn’t place. What was the most striking though, was the front door. It was perfectly framed by a great wisteria vine, creating a beautiful purple trellis above the curved wood door. As they pulled up to the side of the house and parked, Eloise could see that they were on the top of a hill that gave a near full view of all the fields and land they had previously seen. It was no wonder the house had been built facing it, with large windows to take in the view. The backside of the house looked over a forest of evergreen trees.
Stepping out of the car, Eloise took a deep breath, taking it all in. It was stunning. Outside of the sound of the rain, it was wonderfully quiet. She hugged her coat around herself, feeling the weight of the past months slowly falling from her shoulders. The peace was almost overwhelming. She was surprised to find that she was getting choked up. As Francesca walked over, Eloise reached out her arm and pulled her into a great hug.
“Oh, El, what’s this?” Francesca asked with warm surprise. “Are you all right?” Eloise pulled away, her hands on her sister’s shoulders.
“Thank you, Fran. For convincing me to come.”
“Oh, El, of course!” She wiped a tear from Eloise’s cheek and hugged her again.
“I just…I didn’t realize how much I had been holding onto until we got here, and it feels like I can finally let go. It’s just-“
“A lot,” Francesca said when she saw Eloise searching for words. “I totally get it, bud. It’s ok, let yourself feel. We’ve got you.” Eloise took another deep breath.
“You were right. This is exactly what I need.”
“See? I knew you would get it!” John stood by the boot of the car, a suitcase halfway out. Eloise laughed and wiped her eyes.
“I’m definitely starting to see why you love it here, John.” She said as she walked over to grab her bags. John playfully put out a hand to stop her.
“No no, you are here to rest and relax, and that starts now with not having to carry your luggage.”
“Oh please, I’m not that helpless, John!” Eloise laughed and swatted his hand away.
Francesca watched this exchange and smiled. It was good to see her sister laughing again.
John closed the boot and picked up his and Francesca’s bags. “Come along, all! Let’s get inside before the rain picks up again.” Eloise turned and caught up with Francesca as they walked towards the front door.
“Is he never not a gentleman?” She asked Francesca. “I mean, I appreciate the offer, but I am perfectly capable of carrying my bags myself.” Francesca laughed and gave Eloise’s arm a punch.
“Always the independent woman, El. But yes, that’s how John is, always willing to lend a hand. It’s ok to let others help you, you know. Speaking of which, give me that!” Francesca took Eloise’s backpack that she had slung over one shoulder.
“Hey!”
“Good lord, El! What did you put in this, your entire library?!” Francesca pretended to struggle under the weight.
“No! Just the books I’ve been wanting to read but haven’t been able to during school!” Eloise replied sheepishly.
“You know we have a full library, right?” John asked as he got his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. Eloise’s eyes widened.
“A full library?”
“Yes, very well stocked, I assure you.”
“Do you have a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray?”
“Try a first edition copy.” John grinned as he watched Eloise’s excitement grow.
“What are we still doing out here? Open the door John!” Eloise said in a mock tone of demand.
They all laughed and John opened the door into the foyer, a warmly lit room with great iron coat racks ready to receive their dripping coats. Despite it being May, the weather was much cooler in the Highlands than the rest of Scotland, but Eloise didn’t mind. She had always preferred cooler weather. Hanging up her coat, Eloise turned to find Francesca holding out a pair of very cozy looking slippers.
“Are those for me?”
“A Kilmartin house custom,” Fran explained. Guests are always given a pair of slippers when they first arrive, to make them feel more at home.” Eloise broke into a smile and accepted them. She was starting to think she would truly be able to rest here.