act II
Mother you misunderstand;
I ran from men like Apollo
Who cast curses when they are scorned
And burn you eagerly with their touch.
They never saw my heart; just my skin.
- a. davida jane
Nineteen-year-old Eloise Byron had been trouble since birth and her parents ensured that she would never forget it.
They loved her perfectly well, as much as any other parent loved their child, but she baffled them. She was beautiful, intelligent, and well-mannered (whenever she bothered to be, at least), but she was also sharp-witted, strong-willed, and had dreams far beyond her station.
"Eloise, you best not be filling your sisters' heads with nonsense again," her mother scolded.
Eloise looked up from the book she had been reading her sisters with an innocent expression. To her mother, nonsense was anything a young lady needn't worry herself with, such as biology or economics.
This meant, of course, that Eloise and her mother often disagreed about the definition of the word nonsense.
"I would never dream of doing such a thing, mother," Eloise said, smiling angelically. Her sisters, Abigail and Sarah, giggled. They were twelve and ten, respectively, and viewed whatever their sister said to be indisputable truth. So when Eloise told them they were just as clever as their brothers, they believed her, and as such both grew to be brighter than any of the Byron boys, who concerned themselves with hunting and fishing rather than their studies.
"Mhmm," her mother said, shaking her head. As soon as she had gone, Eloise went back to teaching her sisters about the anatomy of birds.
"Father's home, Father's home!" George's voice echoed throughout the house. The three sisters exchanged grins, the book forgotten as they raced out the door to greet their father, who had been absent some weeks on an extended business trip.
The youngest Byron children greeted their father with exuberance that wasn't entirely matched by their elder siblings, who were long accustomed to his lengthy trips.
"Eloise, Henry, say hello to your father," Eloise's mother said when she spotted her two oldest children standing by as their siblings greeted their father.
"We were just giving them room," Henry said, staring amusedly at his younger siblings.
"Henry, Eloise, come over here so I can see you," their father said, at last disentangling himself from his younger children and striding over to them. The years since Eloise's birth had been kind to him; he was tall and still relatively lean, his dark hair speckled with gray that made him look refined rather than aged.
"Henry, I would swear you've grown another three inches since the last time I saw you," he said, clapping his eldest son on the back.
Henry grinned. "Two and a half, actually, but three's close enough. Mother had me measured just yesterday."
"A father always knows." Their father turned to Eloise. "And Eloise, my dear, you grow prettier by the day."
"Thank you, Father," Eloise said, smiling and embracing him. "I hope your trip went well."
"Oh, marvelously, my dear, you wouldn't believe the half of it." Her father gave her a kiss to the forehead before going to greet her mother, and the six siblings slowly returned to their normal activities as the excitement of their father's return faded.
The evening found Eloise in their sitting room after dinner, engaged in a game of checkers with Henry, who out of all her siblings tended to cheat the least.
"I'll take that, thank you," Henry said, plucking one of her red pieces off the board after making his move.
"And I'll take these," Eloise said with a smirk, claiming two of his pieces in return.
"This is why we cheat, you know," Henry said, nibbling his thumbnail as he mused over his next move. "You're a bit too good at this game."
"Don't sulk, Henry, it does not become you. And the game isn't over quite yet," Eloise said, though it was leaning heavily in her favor.
He grumbled. "May as well be."
"Miss Byron, Mr. and Mrs. Byron wish to speak with you in the study," one of their servants said, stepping into the room.
"I've lost anyway," Henry said good-naturedly. "I'll reset the board while you're gone."
"Thank you," Eloise said, rising from her seat and proceeding to the study.
"There you are Eloise, dear. Take a seat," her father said when she entered his study. He was seated on the couch beside her mother, so Eloise sat in the chair adjacent.
"What did you wish to speak with me about?" Eloise asked her parents, placing her hands neatly in her lap.
"Your father has the most wonderful news. He met many an important person during his trip, as you know, one of them being a baron," her mother said, unable to hold back the news.
"Mother, you know I have no intention of marrying yet," Eloise said. Least of all a middle-aged baron, she thought, though she was wise enough not to say this aloud.
"Well, I hope you change your tune, as the baron your mother speaks of - a fine, high-ranking man, very powerful - has agreed to take your hand in marriage. Everything is arranged, and the two of you shall be wed in a month," her father said, clearly expecting her to be thrilled by the news.
"W-What?" Eloise whispered, her stomach dropping. She felt as if the air had been knocked out of her.
"Don't look so nervous, my dear, he's a perfectly sensible man," her father said, misreading her. "And you will meet him beforehand, of course; he'll stop by on his way to London in a few weeks, and upon his return you will be married."
"This is very good for all of us, dear," her mother said. "It is a very advantageous marriage. Your brothers and sisters will be able to enter higher social circles than they ever could otherwise, and you will live a comfortable life, wanting for nothing."
Wanting for nothing except freedom, Eloise thought bitterly. "What is his name?"
"Baron Joseph Winslough. He's not yet forty-five, I believe, so really still quite young," her father said.
"I see." Her voice was soft.
Joseph Winslough. So that was the name of the man who would ruin her life.
Her mother smiled gently at her. "I know this is quite a shock for you, so we won't discuss it any further tonight. Perhaps tomorrow we can talk about wedding clothes."
Wedding clothes. Eloise felt nauseous. "Yes, perhaps that would be best. May I be excused?"
Her father nodded, and she controlled her steps out of the study, not wanting to appear hurried. She made her way to her bedroom, sinking down onto her bed.
Betrothed. To a man old enough to be her father. Everything Eloise had been striving towards had been stolen from her. A choked sob left her lips.
Betrothed.
Her life was over.
And she didn't even have a choice.
And so begins Eloise's story! I'm very excited to dive into the plot of Pomegranate Seeds and I hope you are as well! Thank you so much for your support and please let me know what you think!