a/n: Hi everyone! Thank you for being so patient with me. Part of the reason why it's taken so long for me to update was because I've had serious writers block lately. Hopefully I'll be able to finish the story soon. :D Thank you for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma
Eleanor returned to Ernest's side, and decided to wait until they left the social before mentioning anything to him. It would attract too much attention to anyone else who may have been an enemy, and Ernest seemed to have an inkling of what she was thinking from the look in her eyes.
When they finally left the hall, he pulled her cloak over her shoulders. It was early enough in which most of the crowd was still present, but late enough to not gather suspicion. Ernest lead her out of the hall, and didn't speak to her until they were in the carriage. By that point, her hands were shaking. Ernest felt her cold fingers, and began to rub them in between his own palms. Eleanor didn't think that was the reason why she was shaking.
There were tears in her eyes.
"Miss Campbell?" Ernest whispered to her as they headed back to the apartment, "What happened? What did he say to you?"
Aver would surely go and tell her father everything that was going on, and her family would be in London to collect her without another word. She would be dragged back home and married off to Duke of Brighton and no one would care whether she liked it or not. Her mother simply did whatever her father said, and her father didn't give a damn about anyone but himself.
She wouldn't tell Ernest about the part where Aver threatened her life. He already worried about enough without the added burden of worrying about her.
"Aver knows about you, us. It won't be long before he spreads the word that I'm staying with you." she said, "He's the one, Mr. Reeve. He's the traitor. "
Ernest swore, and Eleanor didn't even care. She was on a clock now, it was only a matter of time until she would be forced to leave his side. Ernest would be alone again, fighting for the country against horrible people all by himself. She wanted to stay with him, to fight with him, to take care of him, and to be there when he came home.
A terrifying thought suddenly dawned on her.
She looked up at Ernest, who was now pressing her hands to the side of his face. His cheeks were warm. There was such a look of worry and concern in his face that she wanted to cry. It was so plain on his face in what he felt for her, it was so obvious that he was in love with her. This amazing, intelligent, wonderful man in front of her loved her.
A tear fell down her cheek.
"He said..." she whispered, "...the Duke of Brighton has accepted my family's offer for an arranged marriage. Once he tells my father about what I've been doing, Father will come to get me and take me back home."
She felt like she was going to be sick, watching the pain fill his eyes.
Ernest looked away from her, "I see."
He released her hands and eased into the bench beside her. They were silent for the rest of the ride. It only gave Eleanor the chance to come up with three conclusions in her mind. One, she would rather die than marry the Duke of Brighton. Two, she didn't care if her family disowned her because they didn't love her anyway. With the exception of Monica, who would adore Eleanor no matter what, no one in the Campbell family cared about her well-being.
And three, she was in love with Ernest Reeve.
Ernest was quiet as he helped her out of the carriage. The maid was waiting at the front door to help them with their coats, and took Eleanor upstairs for a bath. He watched Eleanor disappear into the bathroom, and heaved a deep sigh. There was nothing that he could do now, he couldn't expect her to give up her whole family for him.
As far as he was concerned, there was no way he was going to let her know about his feelings. It would only upset her, and it would make it more difficult for him to bare parting with her.
Letting himself into his office, Ernest wrote a letter to Hale. He was half-tempted to jump back on the coach and deliver it himself, but didn't feel comfortable leaving Eleanor alone in the house with so few staff present. If Aver were to send someone to attack here, Ernest would be unable to protect her. It would be best to lay low until Hale sent them further orders, especially now that Aver seemed to have pegged Ernest as investigating all of the ministers.
After sealing the envelope, he left the study to find that Eleanor was handing a letter to the doorman.
"Miss Campbell?" he frowned.
She smiled, "Just some instructions for Annie. She's more of a friend than a maid, and I wanted to make sure she's alright."
He nodded, and handed his letter to the doorman as well. For some reason, she seemed strangely happy and relaxed, when moments ago she was upset. Ernest couldn't help but smile himself, "Are you alright?"
Eleanor did something the surprised him. She raised a hand, and touched his chin. Ernest froze as she rose and kissed the right side of his cheek.
"You know," she smiled, her cheeks were red, "You are, undoubtedly, the most wonderful man I have ever met."
What was going on? He was starting to think something was wrong, "Are you alright, Miss Campbell?"
She nodded, "Good night, Mr. Reeve."
He watched her disappear up the stairs, and Ernest had an odd feeling something was going on had happened. Eleanor was acting strangely, and he had no idea what to say about her strange behavior. For most of the trip, she had been treating him like a neighbor or associate, and now...he didn't know what.
Ernest sighed, and retired to his room for the evening.
It had been the most difficult letter she had ever written in her entire life. Eleanor sat in the bathtub, the water touching her chin, thinking about the words that would most likely decide her fate.
Dear Annie,
I hope everything is alright, and I hope everything is going well at the Reeve estate.
For matters that have suddenly become out of my control, I feel the need to write this letter to you. In the years since I have left home, you have become more than just my maid. I consider you my closet friend, one that I know I can confide in.
Eleanor waited for the maid to leave her clothes on the other side of the screen before getting out of the tub. She dried herself off after ordering her maid to retire for the night, and slipped into a clean shift. Moving back to her room, she sat at the vanity, and began to brush her hair dry.
It appears that my family is dead set on marrying me off to the Duke of Brighton. I know that this is something my father has done in order to settle some of the family debts, and to expand the business. I fear, however, that if I were to marry the duke it would mean the figurative end of my life.
I need more, Annie, than hosting parties and having children. After everything I have experienced in my years of freedom, I have learned that I have a curious and adventurous soul. I want to learn new things about the world, and feel free to explore what I will.
She set the brush down on the vanity, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her long blond hair was grown well past her waist, and hung loosely about her shoulders. Eleanor thought about the choice she was about to make, and the possible consequences that she would have from that decision.
There was part of her that knew it would be difficult, but she knew she wouldn't have any regrets.
I am in love with Lord Reeve, and I will do everything I can to remain with him. Although he has not said directly, I know he has the same feelings for me, and does not express them in fear of anger from my family. But I do not care about my family's anger. Besides Monica, who I am sure will love me unconditionally, the Campbell family has never once truly cared about me.
It is not long before my father will send for me, and I have no intention of returning. This may bring you some hardship if my family were you discharge you, but I promise, I will do everything in my power to protect you. If I am disowned, I will do whatever if I must to see to my well-being as well as your own. It would be difficult, but at least I would live happy and without regret.
No matter what your decision is I would not hold it against you, and I wish you the best of luck. I will always think of you as my closest friend.
Eleanor
She had signed only her first name, because she didn't like to think that there was any sort of class separating Annie and herself. It would take two days for a reply, and in that time, Eleanor wouldn't worry about it.
Raising from the vanity, she blew the candle out, and went to the door of her room. Stepping barefoot into the hallway, she closed the door quietly behind her. Her feet padded over the wood floor and the rug, listening to the quiet sounds that filled the apartment, before she stopped in front of Ernest's door. There was still a flicker of candlelight that reach underneath his door.
With a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
Ernest stood in the middle of the room, and gasped as Eleanor stepped in without waiting for a response. She closed the door, and leaned against the back of it. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in nothing but a pair of breeches and a white shirt, preparing to go to bed. His hair was mussed from washing it in the basin. His feet were bare.
He looked glorious.
"Miss-"
"I love you."
She had a whole slew of things she had wanted to say, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was they only had one night at the most, and that was all before reality returned. The moment she spoke the words, he stood up quickly, a look of shock on his face.
"Miss Campbell, it's late-"
"Stop it," she snapped.
"I-" he stopped, "I do not think this is wise. You have had an upsetting day."
"Do not let yourself suffer, Ernest," she whispered, "I suffer too. You do not have to be alone anymore."
He stared at her, suddenly silent.
Eleanor looked away, unable to concentrate while looking at his eyes, "I...I am well aware that any relationship between the two of us could ruin your family status, and for that, I will understand if you do not wish to pursue it. Since my father has made it clear that I do not have any use besides breeding heirs, I do not care if I am disowned or ruined. But, I can not let my father marry me off to someone else when the man I am in love with is standing in front of me."
Ernest opened his mouth to answer, but couldn't get the words out.
"Ernest, please tell me what you are thinking," tears gathered in her eyes.
The silence roared around them. Her vision was blurred as she blinked to clear the tears, her heartbeat froze in her chest. Had she read him wrong? Did he not have the same feelings for her? Eleanor didn't know what she would do if he didn't-
Ernest suddenly shook his head, and rushed towards her. She gasped as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards him. He couldn't take it anymore, there was only so much he could handle before it was too much. His hands roamed over her, his fingers tunneled into her hair to pulled her face back.
"I do not care about family status. If I have you with me, it wouldn't matter," he whispered, "Oh god, I love you so much, Eleanor."
He parted her lips, and kissed her.
