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Eloise almost wished that she had stayed in Scotland.
Yes, Scotland did not have nearly as many people willing to talk to her without requiring a translator, and she had missed her family, especially Penelope. But coming home also reminded her of what she had been running away from. Scotland had no Mama threatening to find her a husband. At Kilmartin Castle, she might receive letters about Penelope giving birth to a baby boy, Eloise's little namesake - still frustratingly light on detail about the process - but she did not have to witness Penelope's life evolving without her.
In London, Penelope and Colin spent most of their days trying to get the Featherington finances into a less disastrous state, in between meetings with publishers and the Queen's demands on Penelope's time. At Bridgerton House, Eloise had to be chaperoned by her Mama or one of her brothers. Mama had not trusted the maids to be suitable deterrent against improper behaviors since Eloise's first Season, and her visits to the Publishers in Bloomsbury. With Anthony in India, and Gregory still at Eton, Eloise's options were slim.
Scotland had been instructive in other ways, too. Michaela, on their long walks while John and Francesca were being newly weds, had been willing to offer the kind of advice Daphne would have never needed or thought to offer, as proper as she was. Michaela had put into words the kind of advice that gave Eloise some much needed perspective.
"I can be a rebel, because my situation allows it, while yours does not. The Stirlings are a reclusive bunch, appearing for important votes in parliament and a few social outings, then vanishing back to our estates. I have no sisters to be affected by my actions or reputation, and the wool mills supplied by my lands, my father's before mine, do not care about my gender, as long as the sheep continue producing. Other farmers do not care, either, as long as the stud fees are paid. I am John's heir, until he has his own children, and suitors will overlook much, for an heiress."
The message had been clear: The Bridgertons were too active in society, with too many still-single children, for Eloise to go about insulting all comers in an attempt to avoid the marriage mart. Michaela had mastered the various accomplishments and social graces, and was charming enough to be forgiven when she danced around the edges.
"I speak boldly, I flirt with all comers, I do the things a son might do, but I do not challenge in ways society fears. People can tell themselves that it is because we are so reclusive, or because I have no brother, so I am merely looking after my Mama. A woman who is rebellious, but framed as nurturing, is not a danger to society's ways, in the way that a rebellious woman who rejects society is."
To Eloise's great annoyance, it had worked. She had dressed as Jeanne d'Arc, the woman who led armies, and no one cared because it was a masquerade. She softened how she spoke, and the debutants were her best friends. Gentlemen still looked for a welcoming approach before beginning any long conversations, which meant that their interactions were brief.
Unfortunately, it had only reinforced Eloise's certainty that she did not want to marry a Society Lord and become her Mama or Lady Featherington, forever worrying what others thought of her. She still missed the natural beauty of the country, where there was always something to do, whether it was walking among nature that didn't expect her to converse back, or learning new things about the area, or the shepherds and goose girls willing to talk her ear off about whatever took their fancy.
Eloise had spent a lot of time writing letters in Scotland, mostly to her family. She'd written to Cressida, not that she expected an answer, and to Lady Crane. Hindsight had allowed her to be more sympathetic to them, trapped between multiple bad choices with no way out but through worse choices. Cressida's Aunt Joanna had replied on her behalf, stating that Cressida was currently not permitted to recieve letters. Lady Crane had written back, mostly about how much she missed the husband she should have had, Sir George, and how dreary it was to be trapped away from society and expected to assist her young twins with their first lessons and manners, as if any of them would ever leave the little country town where everyone knew them.
Eloise had attempted to be sympathetic in writing back; sometimes it was hard to be about people who could not see who you were, for remembering the child you used to be. Lady Crane was not a lively correspondant, but she seemed as much in need of an ear to vent to as Eloise was.
The Kilmartin carriage had stopped at Clyvedon, where Daphne and Simon had happily retreated. Daphne liked society, but the London Season was all about those seeking to marry, so until it was time for little Augustus and Bianca and Cassandra and newborn baby David to enter society, Daphne was just as happy to play hostess at home. Simon, of course, had never been a great lover of Society, something he and Eloise heartily agreed upon, and was happy for the excuse of young children to spare him the ordeal.
Auggie was far less objectionable, now that he could hold up his end of a conversation, than he had been as a squirming infant. He was learning to read, and Eloise could sympathise over letters that were so much easier if you wrote them the other way, or formed them differently, than to how your Governess instructed.
Eloise was still very sure she didn't want children of her own. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear Mama's screams, as if she would die from the agony, and the long years where Lady Bridgerton had drifted about like a ghost, barely noticing her children.
Mrs Wilson had called it 'normal enough' at the time. Eloise hadn't seen Daphne or Penelope after they had their children. Had they also been so listless, so detached from the world around them? Was it truly normal, or had Mrs Wilson been attempting to offer comfort?
Eloise had begun the season determined to put herself onto the Shelf and enjoy Spinsterhood, but she was coming to realise what Kate had tried to gently tell her two years ago, Spinsterhood was not easy. It was being sidelined, chaperoning still-eligible sisters, likely being expected to stay home with the hoardes of nieces and nephews while others socialised. It was still needing a chaperone, with none of the freedoms that married women seemed to be afforded. In some ways, it felt like being stuck in time, forever an unmarried young lady, until she was old enough that no one could expect her to marry, and became an un-needed extra in her own family.
She might as well become a Governess and at least have something to do all day.
Maybe Eloise could bear marriage, if she found a widower with children old enough to be interesting and a brain in his head. Someone who would talk to her like an equal, and share at least a few interests. Someone to be a partner in life, like she'd thought she and Benedict would be...
Eloise didn't need to speak the wish out loud to know how much of a fantasy it was.
Perhaps Penelope would tell her, if she asked. It did not count as being unchaperoned if she was going to visit her brother, after all.
Francesca was also visiting Penelope, and they were deep in conversation that abruptly stopped when Eloise walked in. "Oh, Eloise, we were just talking about..."
Francesca cast about for an excuse and Penelope chimed in, with that little smile she used to aim at Eloise over a shared, secret joke. "Birds."
Francesca laughed. "Thank you for receiving me, and for your conversation today, Mrs Bridgerton."
Penelope smiled warmly, the same way she used to smile at Eloise when she was nervous about coming out. "It was my great pleasure, Lady Kilmartin."
Once Francesca had departed, Eloise sat down. "What was all that about?"
Penelope frowned slightly. "A private confidence from your sister, that she specifically asked me not to share."
For all that she was London's greatest gossip writer, Penelope could also be a steel trap when she wished to. "I feel as if there is so much we cannot talk about, now."
Penelope shifted, "It is not that we cannot talk as we used to, but that a great deal of my life relates to those things that are the domain of married women; running a household, and children, and husbands."
It was Eloise's turn to frown, "And you cannot discuss those things with me?"
Penelope blinked. "You have repeatedly made it very clear that marriage and children are not things that you wished to ever discuss, and you seem content at home. We certainly can talk about setting up and running an establishment of your own, if you wish."
It probably was something worth knowing, especially with the Maid Wars rocking London at the moment. But there were more important things. "Is something wrong with Francesca? I did not think anything bothered her."
Another frown from her friend. "It is not that Francesca is unbothered, but... differently bothered, I suppose. She prefers people to speak plainly, because she takes everything at face value. You or I might not notice something out of place, but it matters to her, because if one thing is out of place, how does she know everything else is not affected?"
Francesca had been the quiet one among the outspoken and dramatic Bridgerton siblings. Could Eloise not even be the odd one out without battling someone else?
A footman opened the door. "Mrs Bridgerton, the Queen wishes to speak with you."
Eloise was probably the only one who saw the flicker of frustration cross Penelope's face, no doubt wishing she could go back into the shadows. "Forgive me, Eloise, I should not delay."
It was fine. Benedict would be back from that house party soon, and Eloise could go back to disracting gentlemen while Benedict interrogated young ladies, searching for his mystery maiden.
Eloise was fine.
Really.