Work Text:
She refuses to speak to Eloise for the rest of the night. Not that her sister minds. She just keeps carrying on as before, snark-y comment here, roll of the eyes there, eventually drifting out of the conversation entirely and sticking her nose into a book, rudely ignoring the company. Hyacinth feels fully justified in her assessment of her sister's character. It's not just her who Eloise doesn't care about. It's everyone but herself.
She holds onto this thought with bitter sense of victory, ostentatiously ignoring Eloise's goodnight when they come back to the house. She has to get ready for bed on her own, Eloise undoubtedly hogging Sophie once again, probably forcing her to speak with her about books or whatnot. Resentment towards her sister keeps mounting and mounting, sizzling under her skin. She will go to mother tomorrow and asks her to remove Eloise from her vicinity. Forget hopes of influencing one another! It is more than clear Eloise will do no such thing. And Hyacinth will rather hang herself on one of her ribbons than to let herself be influenced by her. Why, she could be ruined by mere association!
She keeps bubbling with rage, so caught up in her inner thoughts she completely misses the knock on her door at first. Only after the second round of tapping is unleashed, Hyacinth takes notice. She doesn't miss her sister's hesitant voice, muffled behind the heavy wood.
“It's Eloise. May I come in?” The fury is momentarily exchanged for genuine shock. Eloise rarely ventures into her room, only ever caring to come inside when demanding Hyacinth gives back any books she borrowed without asking. (One and only concession she will give her sister is that she has an amazing collection of novels, some of them even interesting.) Hyacinth has no idea what could she possibly want with her now, so she ignores the pleas to enter and stubbornly stays silent, huddled under the covers.
Of course, that does not deter her sister in the slightest. The door creek open, sliver of light entering the room and Hyacinth makes a mistake of audibly huffing in annoyance when Eloise calls her name again, revealing herself still awake. It seems as enough of an invitation for her sister and Eloise quickly closes the door behind her and walks towards the bed. Hyacinth doesn't care if it makes her seem petty. She turns her back at Eloise the second she feels the mattress dip and Eloise seating herself at the edge.
There is few moments of complete silence. And then, just when Hyacinth thinks that maybe Eloise has lost her nerve and will leave again in face of clear disinterest, her sister speaks:
“I'm sorry for being so dismissive towards you. I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry.” She sounds genuine, but that is not what gives Hyacinth a pause. It's the note of utter exhaustion that lingers underneath that makes her eyes snap open, that makes her head twist ever so slightly to hear better.
“You take joy in those things, in all that we are supposed to take interest in. And I reckon I should be happy for you, for finding your purpose. Even if I think you could be doing so much more with your life than wait for a husband. But if that's what makes you happy, than… I shall respect that. All I'm asking, is to have that respect extended back to me.” One thing Hyacinth hates the most about her sister is how eloquent she can be. She can string her words into sentences with such ease, crafting the most appealing arguments in her favour even in most hostile conditions. She feels a pang at her heart because, yes, even now her sister sounds so very reasonable, she sounds right. But Hyacinth is not ready to give in, not willing to back on her stance.
“You were just being mean to me.” Even she can hear how petulant she sounds, but to her credit, Eloise doesn't call her out on that, doesn't ridicule her for sounding like a child. (Even though Hyacinth feels like one now. Another surge of ire goes through her. It's all Eloise's fault.)
Her sister sighs heavily, that exhaustions more and more pronounced with every other word she utters. It's almost heartbreaking, the genuine sorrow that colours Eloise's voice. It's so heavy and palpable that Hyacinth can barely take satisfaction in another concession to being (partially) in the wrong her sister gives her at the beginning:
“Yes, I was. But not because I hate you. It's not an excuse, I'm enough self-aware to know that. I let my frustration get better of me and you were the first and most convenient target for it.” Again, no time to bask in her victory, for Eloise continues.
“You have no idea – and I hope you never will – how exhausting it is to live a life that's slowly draining the very marrow from your bones. To have everything I'm interested in, everything that makes me happy and what is important to me laughed at and dismissed and outright forbidden. To be constantly punished for even trying for something else, for trying to win at least little something that would make my life here bearable.”
“Like you care. You do anything you want anyway.”
“I do the very opposite, Hyacinth. If I did what I wanted, I would be long gone from here.” The wishful finality in her voice is what makes Hyacinth turn at last. Eloise still sits at the edge of the bed, the candle she brought with her flickering on the bedside table. One hand curled in her lap, the other idly picking on a loose thread on the duvet. She's staring ahead, eyes fixed on something at the wall. Hyacinth can only see her sister's profile but even that is enough to nearly make her choke. She never saw her so… devastated.
“What do you mean?” She kind of hates how soft and worried her own voice sounds now. She wants to stay mad at Eloise, a cold treatment is the very least her sister deserves for the way she treated her. But she cannot make herself so. And then Eloise turns to look at her and the sad little smile she gives almost makes Hyacinth sob.
“I tried it once. I got a glimpse of life that… could have made me happy. I was tricked into giving it up and I never went back even after finding out the truth because I knew it would have unprecedented consequences. For me, for our family… for everyone.” There is something about the way she utters the last word that makes Hyacinth think that everyone might be in fact someone, some very particular person. But before she can ask, her imagination running wild with thoughts of Eloise having some failed love affair in her past, her sister continues, for the first time sounding like the Eloise Hyacinth knows, sharp and unyielding. But for some reason, this time her words don't read as dismissal, even if they still sting.
“You live in a bubble, Hyacinth. Your idea of happiness corresponds with the one you are supposed to want and so you are praised and supported unconditionally. I don't have that. I never will, not in this society, not in this family I'm afraid. Not unless I give up everything that makes me me. I'm drowning here, struggling to breathe, choking on things I really want to say. Yet I stick around, trying to preserve the peace. So don't you bloody tell me I only care for myself. You have no idea what I sacrificed for this family. For you, so you could happily learn how to set a dinner table and dream about your perfect future. I gave up mine, so that would be still possible. I'm not clamouring for round of applause for it. But I won't pretend it didn't hurt me. It hurt like hell. And it hurts me still to have my pain ignored, to pretend like it was nothing.”
They stare at each other for a while afterwards, Eloise apparently not having anything else to say and Hyacinth in too much of an inner turmoil to formulate any of the follow up questions already running in her head. She can only grunt out a startled “Goodnight” when Eloise stands up abruptly, grabs the candleholder and escapes from the room. Hyacinth stays awake for hours afterwards, her mind too active to give her rest.
To the outside observer, their days following are no different to those before. Eloise still sulks during her chaperoning, dripping sarcastic comments and exhibiting no interest in anything Hyacinth's governess is trying to teach them. It still annoys Hyacinth to no end, but her sister's words are now firmly etched into her brain, forcing her to entertain a different perspective. She imagines herself being forced to partake in something she detests with only alternative being to attend something she abhors even more and she actually grows to almost admire Eloise for her restraint. If Hyacinth would be forced into, lets say, extended economy lessons and forbidden from visiting her friends, she would set the house on fire. And then went to Anthony and demanded he fixes it.
That thought particularly gives her a pause. Eloise's words about not being supported in her ambitions seem incomprehensible to Hyacinth. She was never told no, in anything she wanted to do. Not by Anthony and certainly not by their mother. In fact, mama only ever had words of praise for her enthusiasm about learning how to be a lady, encouraging her in her efforts even if not letting her partake directly so far.
But as Hyacinth takes to observing Violet's interactions with Eloise in next few days, an uncomfortable feeling of unease starts creeping up her spine. Mama's attitude towards Eloise is staggeringly different. There are frequent sighs of disappointment and reprimands and more “Even Daphne/Francesca/Hyacinth” when Eloise is being told how lacking she is, than Hyacinth can count. Hyacinth supposes it should give her joy, to be used as an example for her sister to follow, but it just makes her sad.
Still, she refuses to fully believe mama would be as unfeeling towards her as Eloise has tried to insinuate. She's convinced that if Eloise weren't so obstinate all the time, so set in her refusal of everything that mama throws her way, they could find a middle ground. She's absolutely certain and feels suddenly so much more grown up than her sister when she sets out to have her hypothesis confirmed.
She digs into her memory, trying to recall something Eloise asked for that has been dismissed, denied. Wraps it into a suitable enough cover to be respectable and asks her mother with all the respect and politeness the situation deserves. Nothing ever hurt her more in her life till then when she has her efforts ripped to pieces and she find herself at the receiving end of the first truly disappointed stare from her mother.
“There is a lecture about women health and marital relations next week. I would very much like to attend, if you allow. I think it could be very informative.” She waits with abated breath, eager smile on her lips. It freezes as she first watches her mother's smile freeze as well and then drop entirely and be replaced by disproving frown.
“What on earth! Hyacinth Bridgerton, where did you get such idea?”
“I read about it in some news-leaflet when I was last at Gunters. It's perfectly respectable. I just though…” She scrambles for arguments, trying to remember the details of her lie. Her mother doesn't even let her finish the sentence when she throws the accusation in, her face clearly showing she already made up her mind
“Eloise put you into this, didn't she?”
“Eloise had nothing to do with it. I just thought it might be interesting.”
“Those are not appropriate topics for a young lady, Hyacinth. You will learn about these things when the time is right. I don't want to hear any more of it.” Her dismissal of the subject is definitive, the ever open and supportive mother turning into something entirely new and foreign in front of her eyes and Hyacinth can only stare in shock, not capable of any retort, of holding an argument.
And then she stares in shocked awe some more when Eloise enters the drawing room at that very moment and is immediately targeted by their mama as the culprit of this disturbance. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Hyacinth watches her sister at first bear in stoic silence the reprimands and laments rained on her head, mama saying she “has some nerve to put her younger sister up to something like this, how disappointing of you Eloise, I thought we were pass your stubborn rebelling and disruptions, after all, you were doing so much better lately, why cannot you just be a bit more mindful like Daphne and Francesca, it is your responsibility to set an example to Hyacinth”. She watches how Eloise then argues back, and yes, there is a lot of bark in her voice, but it no longer can be called a reason for being dismissed so. Eloise crafts her statements with precision, argues that obtaining such knowledge would only be truly beneficial, but their mother is deaf to her reasoning, repeating over and over how inappropriate it all is and what would people think if they saw her daughters attending such gathering.
Eloise doesn't even rat Hyacinth out for this being truly her idea, accepting the blame mama puts on her and Hyacinth's perception of her sister, of their lives, shifts permanently at that moment. She sits on the sofa and watches mama leave the room demonstratively, leaving one more how disappointing of you behind. She watches Eloise close her eyes for few seconds, steadying herself, before turning to her. Hyacinth squirms under her sister's gaze.
“What was that about?” Eloise sits down opposite her, continues to watch her, waiting for answer. And Hyacinth suddenly feels like the child she continues to claim she's not. Chastised and dismissed like one. Ignored by the one person whose support she never had to doubt before.
“I just wanted to see if mama… if mama would let me go.” The murmur is barely legible, but Eloise hears well enough. Understanding settles over her features, something so soft and consoling it makes Hyacinth's eyes water.
“Oh Hya…” The childhood nickname is what does her in. She starts sobbing, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, her nose getting runny. Gone is her practised elegance and poise. By the time Eloise changes seats and drops down next to her, putting a hesitant arm around her shoulders, Hyacinth is a blubbering mess. Robbed of her rose-coloured glasses, she is at loss at what to do now.
(She could be just as blameless and shielded and innocent tomorrow as she was yesterday. She could ignore Eloise's reality in favour of remaining in hers that is still perfect and all she ever wanted. She could still go to mama and ask her to relieve Eloise from her chaperoning duties, for both their sake's and it would probably be readily agreed. She could go back to her dream, but Eloise's gentle presence at her side leaves her uncompromisingly awake.)
They don't become the best of friends afterwards, of course. And Hyacinth doesn't just turn her back on her plans and hopes for future, just because it seems unfair to have them when her sister cannot have hers. But some kind of peace is established, understanding and that desperately longed for respect. Next time the situation allows, Hyacinth asks Eloise to share her book, not the other way around. And she is taken aback how lovely Eloise actually is when someone reaches out to her, when she is not the one expected to correct her interests to suit the others. She realises that when locked in a friendly kind of bickering, one born of teasing and arguing over something she finds important, Eloise is never cruel or mean. Very sharp and very decisive, but always open-minded and inviting to new ideas, even if they don't correspond with hers. When she feels she is being listened to, Eloise is much more open to listen in return and Hyacinth finds herself sharing her book about Marie Sellé with her after all, Eloise accepting it happily, sharing her thoughts in the aftermath, the conversation pleasant and thoughtful and ever encouraging to more.
She's a whole different Eloise when she is not constantly forced to be on the defence and Hyacinth finds out she enjoys this side of her sister tremendously.
She listens with great interest as Eloise slowly opens up to her in the following weeks. Over books at first, of course, almost shy and despite their progress still a bit on guard, expecting disapproval. Hyacinth cannot say she finds the dry philosophical texts very invigorating, but she finds herself listening to Eloise breaking them down for her later with unadulterated interest. The ideas behind are magnificent (and frankly not as scandalous as their society would like them to believe, there seems to be nothing wrong with a notion of men and women being equal when one thinks about it).
She finds the story behind how Eloise came to contact with many of these ideals even more intriguing. Listens to her sister speak about parts of London she was never supposed to visit on her own, playing with fire of ruination on her quest for understanding. It doesn't take Hyacinth long to understand that Eloise's adventures might have started as a hunt for Lady Whistledown, but have quickly turned into something much different, something deeper. It doesn't take her long to confirm her suspicion from their first truthful conversation shared, Eloise not denying that there has indeed been a certain someone in need of protection as well, some actual person she left behind in order to spare the family any more pain.
“Are they the one who gave you those?” Hyacinth asks, pointing to the small pile of books sitting aside all others. They are much more battered than the rest, obviously handled often and with great care. Eloise let her read one of them, a short compilation of essays. There were dozens of little notes written all over the pages, squished into the margins and curling around the printed text. Some of them were written by her sister's hand. Some by a stranger. Hyacinth spotted a T. Sharpe neatly penned at the bottom of the front page and she thinks she already knows the answer even before Eloise confirms it with a nod and somewhat wishful smile.
“He was a friend. We understood each other… perfectly.”
Once she starts, Eloise has trouble stopping, talking about this friend repeatedly, revealing maybe more than she ever wanted. After few days, Hyacinth is absolutely certain that this friendship, this particular part of her sister's dream life, had an undoubted element of love as well, not a mere intellectual understanding.
Her first instinct is to run to mama with this information. Not to get Eloise in trouble. Quite the opposite. To get help. For if there is one thing Violet Bridgerton repeats with astounding kind of confidence above anything else, it's that love is the most important thing in life. It is something she falls onto every time when she pushes Eloise to yet another suitor and the immediate, unburdened part of Hyacinth thinks that mama would be delighted that Eloise is, in fact, interested in love herself. But then that recently awoken part of her takes a word and asks, quite unrepentantly shattering the hopeful picture she painted in her mind. Would their mother actually support this kind of love, love that doesn't fit into the mould of the life she wishes Eloise took an active part of? Hyacinth's hopes are still yes. But Eloise's are a hard no, her confidence in their mother's support no longer existing. As much as it all pains her, Hyacinth decides to respect that.
Of course, that doesn't stop her from getting involved anyway.
Her siblings often call her meddlesome and Hyacinth actually takes a great deal of pride in the title. Her instincts when it comes to love lives of those around her have yet to fail her and she intends to act on them this time as well. She cannot give Eloise the life she longs for, but maybe she can nudge her towards taking it on her own after all.
At the end of the day, Hyacinth is a romantic, heart and soul. If her future husband should be deterred by an idea of a scandal not of her own, pass her and her many accomplishments only because her sister dared to find love outside the ton – well, then she doesn't want him, whoever this mysterious gentleman might turn out to be. And she will say so to mother and Anthony and anyone else as well, if they try to intervene. She will tell that to Eloise herself, if she tries to argue, clinging to the notion of protecting them as she does now.
(When she's older and thinks back to this moment, Hyacinth will smile at her unbridled enthusiasm, at her still lingering naiveté. In her fourteen year old mind, the majority of the scandal comes from the unsuitability of Eloise's potential husband, not the world and thoughts that Eloise wants to speak aloud for all to hear. The political side of the issue, while not entirely hidden to her, doesn't fully register. She mostly just thinks that Daphne and Anthony and even Colin were embroiled in love-related scandals of their own and were forgiven, so why couldn't Eloise do the same.)
Convincing Eloise to go back to Bloomsbury is easier than Hyacinth anticipates. In a way it's not surprising, truly. While she came to find her sister's thoughts and opinions quite intriguing, she lacks the passion for arguing the issue with vigour matching hers, debating the different minutia and details for hours and not getting tired (both of the argument and the opponent). Hyacinth can see Eloise is frankly starving for this kind of interaction and she tells her there is no better place to get it than the one where she was introduced to such ideas in the first place. If she were to meet her wished for debate partner there, well, that is a lovely bonus.
Eloise folds easily and they make good on their plans the very next time they head for the shops, the roles of overexcited young charge and her resigned chaperone firmly in place as not to let anyone know the truth. Hyacinth is little bit worried about transportation, but the second Eloise tells the footman their desired destination, his face positively lights up. He actually waves off the pin money her sister is already offering him and eagerly helps them into the carriage.
“Thank you, John.” Eloise says and Hyacinth watches with fascination as she gets a cheeky and frankly borderline insubordinate smirk and wink in return.
“Like the good old days, eh?” He closes the carriage door, climbs up and then they are going and Eloise doesn't stop smiling the whole ride. Hyacinth gets infected by her sister's good mood easily and she wonders, if their footman, if John, is a part of Eloise's dreamed for life as well.
The place, Bloomsbury Assembly Hall, definitely is. If she thought Eloise got excited when offered a stimulating conversation in the safety of their home, here she positively beams. It doesn't take long before she gets drawn into a discussion with couple of women standing next to them by the podium. The speeches are at the pause right now, allowing for the debates take place uninterrupted and Eloise takes to it with gusto. Hyacinth watches her sister, her burning cheeks and glowing eyes, with immense fondness. She is happy, more happy than Hyacinth can remember ever seeing her.
(And if that doesn't say it all.)
John joins them shortly, wig off and coachman's coat over his shoulders to hide his livery and make himself stand out less. He asks them if they want something to drink and Hyacinth is tempted to ask for a cup of ale, just to test how far the freedom here goes for her. She resist at the end, shakes her head just as Eloise and turns her attention back to her sister. New speaker finally makes it up on the stage and starts talking and Hyacinth lets herself be pulled close, Eloise linking their arms and whispering into her ear explanations and additional information, making sure she feels included even when not fully understanding all that is being said. And Hyacinth listens and she laughs (because god, happy Eloise is so funny!) and presses closer to her sister and gives John cheeky smiles over her shoulder when he comes back to them with a drink in his hand because this day might have been about Eloise experiencing her kind of happiness, but Hyacinth feels like she is floating as well. And then she floats some more when after the speech is once again done and debate erupts all around, she catches Eloise repeatedly looking somewhere to the other side of the room, always averting her gaze instantly like she have been burn.
John behind them snickers, but doesn't say a word and Hyacinth knows better than to demand answers from him. She has a distinct feeling that his loyalty is to her sister first. So she asks Eloise directly.
“Where do you keep looking?” She tries to follow her line of vision, but sees only more people talking, none of them standing out in a way warranting any special interest… unless they are actually already known. Suddenly remembering the “bonus” reason for this expedition, Hyacinth raises on her tiptoes and tries to catch a sight of the person that caught Eloise's attention.
“Do you see your friend here somewhere?” She doesn't even bother to cover her excitement, shamelessly staring at every man in vicinity. Her eyes search for someone scrawny and possibly bespectacled, for that is the type she imagines under the description of an intellectual Eloise gave of him. That much bigger is her surprise when the crowd around parts, allowing them to see with clarity for few moments again. Eloise does her “I'm not looking” routine once more and this time Hyacinth is able to catch the target it is directed at. She blinks in surprise. And appreciation. The man is rather handsome.
“Is that him? Well done, sister.” It's most amusing to watch Eloise being reduced into a fish, gaping in shock for few seconds before managing to snap back to her senses.
“Don't be vulgar! And stop ogling.” She tries to sound offended, but there is no real heat behind her words, just a lot of flustering. Hyacinth grins and sets to do what she does best – getting her way.
“It is him, right? Your friend? The one who gave you books? The one you had to leave?”
“Hyacinth, please.”
“Are going to talk to him?”
“I… wouldn't possibly… what… I…”
“Oh sister. Maybe mama was right to want us rub off each other a bit. Because you have obviously no idea how to talk to a suitor.”
“Theo is not my suitor!” Finally getting the concrete confirmation she indeed knows the man, Hyacinth claps her hands in excitement and pushes her mission to its final stage.
“Oh so it is him! Perfect.” She is striding across the Hall, determined, elated, relentless, her sister's hurried steps and squeaky “Hyacinth, came back!” sounding behind her back. She doesn't stop until she stands right in front of the man himself, tapping his shoulder insistently to get his attention. It works perfectly and Hyacinth musts commend her sister's choice of company once more. He's even prettier from up close.
“Excuse me? Mr. Sharpe?”
“Uh… yes?” He blinks at her, startled. Both Eloise and Hyacinth are wearing their oldest travel cloaks over their dress, but even then Hyacinth can see he noticed the fancier fabrics peeking from underneath. It seems to evoke some kind of memories in him, undoubtedly, and Hyacinth can't believe her luck. Well, Eloise's luck. Not only she gets to meet him at her first time back, but he obviously remembers her well. (Hyacinth refuses to entertain any other, maybe more practical, explanations.)
“Lovely to finally meet you, Mr. Sharpe. My name is Hyacinth Bridgerton.” The way his eyes widen when hearing her family name is downright comical. Hyacinth takes a step aside and reveals the person that has been breathing behind her neck:
“I believe you know my sister.”
To be absolutely fair, given how flustered Eloise got at the mere sight of her friend, Hyacinth doesn't have that much of a high hopes about the following conversation. And to be even fairer, it is not only her sister who just dumbly stands and longingly stares at their opponent at first. Mr. Sharpe seems to be similarly affected and Hyacinth fears she will have to intervene to get this moving. But then, like a turn of a switch, something changes. Eloise's face breaks into a wide smile, bright and open thing and Mr. Sharpe responds in kind, his voice full of wonder when he finally speaks:
“What are you doing here?” Hyacinth has just enough time to get out of the way as the two step closer, much more than propriety allows. She watches, completely enchanted, as her sister… flirts? It must be, even though the form is somewhat baffling.
“I've kept up with your work over the years and simply could not stay away any longer.” A pleased smile on Mr. Sharpe's side, roll of the eyes on Eloise's. It's some kind of an inside joke, Hyacinth is sure. There is no other reason why the following three words should sound so suggestive otherwise.
“Is that so?” It feels like she's intruding now, but wild horses could not drag Hyacinth away as she watches the scene in front of her unfold.
“Still smug, I see.”
“Good thing you're back to put me in my place.”
“I just hope it's not to late?”
“Never.”
One of the reasons Hyacinth longs to join the society is the promise of great love-stories unfolding before her eyes. She still cannot wait to experience this, for others and for herself. She will polish her graces to make her story all that much more spectacular and she will enjoy every second of it. She will dance under glittering chandeliers and sneak smiles at her suitors from behind her fan. And who knows, maybe she will cause some little scandal of her own on her way to her happy ending. It's all in the open, ready for her to reach and take it. She will get where she wants to go, one way or another.
And so will Eloise. Her happy ending will happen in dingy Assembly Halls, with beer cups instead of champagne flutes and fevered debates instead of hushed secret conversations. It will have thoughts shared freely and words listened to with interest and undoubtedly Mr. Sharpe throwing moon-eyes at her sister and holding her hand as she jumps off the stage after delivering a speech of her own. Hyacinth can already see it in their eyes, in a way Eloise lingers when kissing Mr. Sharpe on the cheek as they say goodbye that first day. In a way he stares after her, mix of longing and determination radiating from him even from afar, easy to see as Hyacinth looks out of the carriage on their way back.
Hyacinth is absolutely certain that this love-story will be more than rewarding to watch and she intends to be there to see it unfold.
(And she knows she will be as happy for her sister achieving her dreams as Eloise will be for her, reaching hers.)
