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Chapter 13

El drew away.

"I can't do this, Jerrold," said El quietly. "Forget about me. I'm just a shadow… a scrap of your past. Forget you ever knew me… I was just a girl on the side of the street cheering as you rolled by in your carriage."

"You will never be a stranger to me." Jerrold placed one finger under her chin. "Never." El turned her head away.

"But I must." She murmured. There was such desperation on her face. "I must. I am married. You are engaged to be married. What good will ever come out of such an alliance?"

"Not all things in this world are done for good." At his words, El turned back to face him.

"But they should be." She was so determined, her eyes flashing and her face alight. "Daria loves you. Isn't that enough?"

"Do you?" Jerrold asked quietly. She clutched his arm.

"Oh, of course, I do, Jerrold! But what does it matter now? Forget about me. I am nothing. But if we must meet again, we meet as strangers. And I have no doubt that we will meet again… my… husband is a member of court after all… but we will be nothing more to each other." She looked away. "Go. Be happy with Daria. Or if you prefer… just be happy."

They looked at each other for a long, long moment.

"Your wish is my command, fair lady," said Jerrold with the faint air of detachment. He spoilt the effect, however, by dropping a kiss on El's hand as it rested on the table.

"Be happy, dear heart." El whispered as the kitchen door shut. She sat at the kitchen bench and allowed herself to dissolve into tears.

Jerrold stood outside the kitchen door listening to El's sobs. A part of him wanted to go back to comfort her, but another part of him knew that she didn't want him there.

"Be happy, beloved stranger." He whispered. He blew the closed-door one last kiss, turned and walked down the corridor.

Away from love.

Daria sat in her room, wondering what would happen now. Jerrold was an honourable man. He wouldn't abandoned her and elope with El… he just wasn't that type of person. Was he?

She had seen how he'd looked at El… at the balls… at dances… at the dinner. Was she jealous?

No, she decided. Even if Jerrold might… for she didn't know him well… El would never. Ever. They were closer than sisters. For heavens sake, she was all El had! Her mother had never really cared… her father was never around…

And she had just caused El to give up the one thing in her life that El had always needed:

Love.

"What sort of friend am I?" She implored the heavens. She turned away, disgusted at herself, cursing her own existence.

"El turned out so much better than I would have – living in that household." She realised. "And I have just betrayed her… like she would never betray me."

"Eleanor?" El turned around.

"Peter!" She exclaimed.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"All the better for seeing you." She smiled girlishly.

"I was just wondering… you weren't at dinner today… so…"

"I wasn't hungry."

"I see…" He walked closer to her. "Next time, do let me know."

"Yes, dear."

Lady Rosalind sat in El's old bedroom. She had never come here while El was still living here.

"I was a bad mother." She acknowledged in the simplest terms possible. "Bad."