Chapter 1 - reunion
"You're not rid of me yet, viscount Tewksbury, marquess of basilwether"
He hoped so, as he felt a warm, salty tear escape his eye as he watched her leave. He had grown so fond of her in the past weeks and realised just how much he would miss her company.
-1 month later-
It was a fine, September afternoon and Tewksbury was wandering in the basilwether estate, marvelling at the stunning red leaves above him. He often thought of Enola on days like this, when he was alone with his thoughts and not busy with politics that didn't much interest him. He wondered if she would stick to her promise.
Just then, Matilda, a fine young maid came running towards him. "Sir, you must come inside! We have been looking for you all afternoon! The ball starts in two hours and you haven't even changed!" The ball. He had completely forgotten, possibly because he desperately didn't want to go. He would have to be polite, pretending to care for people he had never met. And then he would have to dance with all the young ladies, all of whom he already knew he wouldn't love, much to his mother's dismay.
It was 6pm. The ball had started exactly half an hour ago, and he thought to himself how irritatingly on time posh people were. There was a certain young lady named miss Rosie Summers who seemed to be attracting lots of attention, and he grimaced for he knew he would now have to ask her to dance with him.
Just as he was thinking this, his mother came over to him and told him to do just that. As he made his way through the crowd, he found her deep in conversation with Elizabeth Dawson, a well respected young woman who had played a key role in the fight for the reform bill.
As he was approaching, she suddenly turned her head. Tewksbury was overjoyed to see the familiar face that he had missed so much. "Enola?"
She should've thought that Tewksbury would be foolish enough to expose her identity in public, and cursed herself for not sneaking in as a maid. She had come to the ball to check on Tewksbury, as she knew it was still possible that there was someone out there who wished him dead. She had hoped to blend in with the crowd, however she had created quite the opposite reaction when she walked into the vast hall. She wore a navy blue satin dress with silver lacing and tiny silver starts stitched into the skirt. It had been made especially for her by an elderly woman who lodged in the room next to her, a kind hearted widow whom she cared for deeply.
She knew it was a mistake when she turned to see Tewksbury, but she had managed to pretend that he was talking to someone in the distance. He quickly picked up on her cue and introduced himself to her, incredibly remembering her fake name. "And this is Miss Elizabeth Dawson, although I'm sure you've met" Enola added, before anyone could notice that he'd only spoken to her.
He could not take his eyes off her. He felt so bad, realising that he could have put her at risk by revealing her true identity. "Would you care to join me for this first dance, Miss Summers?" He knew that if he didn't, then there was no way he could have survived watching her with another man. To his relief, she said yes without a second thought as he whisked her onto the dance floor.