Chapter 5: A Dinner of Revelations
The Thorne estate, grand yet subtly austere in its decor, was a fitting reflection of its master—impressive but not ostentatious. As Eloise, accompanied by her mother and older brother Benedict, stepped into the foyer, the air was charged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.
Oliver greeted them at the door, his demeanor impeccably polite yet noticeably reserved. Lady Bridgerton, ever the astute matriarch, and Benedict, protective yet curious, were initially wary of their host. However, as the evening progressed, Oliver's charm and attentiveness began to ease the tension. His conversation was engaging, filled with witty yet respectful anecdotes that delighted Lady Bridgerton and intrigued Benedict.
Dinner was served in a finely appointed dining room, where the conversation flowed around topics suitable for polite company—art, music, and the latest political developments. Yet, beneath the surface-level pleasantries, Eloise was bursting with the need to discuss what she had witnessed at the docks.
Seizing a moment when the conversation turned towards a new opera in town, Eloise caught Oliver's gaze, her eyes conveying a depth of respect and admiration. Oliver, reading the unspoken message in her eyes, excused themselves from the table under the pretense of showing Eloise an antique map of London that might interest her.
Once alone in his study, the air between them shifted, charged with unspoken words.
"Mr. Thorne, I must confess," Eloise began, her voice low, "last evening I saw how you handled the crisis at the docks. I cannot express how much I admire the respect and care you show for your workers."
Oliver's expression tightened, his initial pleasure at her praise quickly overshadowed by concern. "Miss Bridgerton, while I appreciate your kind words, I must express my displeasure at your decision to venture into such a place unescorted. It was reckless and could have put you in great jeopardy."
Eloise bristled at his words, her admiration souring into irritation. "I am not some wilting flower, Mr. Thorne, that I should fear stepping into less polished parts of this city. I am perfectly capable of handling myself."
Oliver sighed, his frustration evident. "It is not your capability I doubt, Miss Bridgerton, but the propriety of such actions. It is my world, and it is fraught with dangers you are unaccustomed to."
Her anger flared at his implications. "So, you would rather I remain ignorant of the realities of your life? Am I to admire you from afar, only when it is suitable?"
Oliver paused, recognizing the passion and earnestness in her challenge. "No, that is not what I want. But I wish you would trust me to share my world with you at the right time, in the right way."
The tension lingered, but as they continued to talk, a new understanding began to form. Oliver shared more about his daily struggles and ambitions, and Eloise listened, her anger giving way to a deeper, more complex connection.
They returned to the dining room with a quiet agreement, their interaction marked by a mutual respect that was stronger for having weathered the conflict.
As the night drew to a close and the Bridgertons prepared to leave, the air between Eloise and Oliver was filled with a silent promise—a promise of more honest and open dialogues in the future.