Chapter Text
'I wonder, if there's true value in being married or If I'm being too stubborn.'
Eloise pondered as she stared at the book in her hand, not reading nor absorbing anything, not even turning a page in the last hour. Her face is carefully blank, so as not to show any emotions or what she is thinking about at that moment. She can see her Mama hovering and worrying over her oldest sister, Daphne, who in turn is also in a similar state. Daphne's presentation will be due next month, so Eloise supposes that the excitement and nervousness surrounding the majority of her family is justified as it is an important event. And Daphne is the eldest daughter. Next year will be her turn and she shudders at the thought. She hates the fact that she has to do the same archaic tradition that Daphne is about to do next month but she is also aware that she is obligated to do it.
Even if her heart is not in it.
( She would rather spend the day with Pen, talking about the books they've read, comparing notes, laughing, and being comfortable around her sister in anything but name and blood. Hopefully without Colin ruining the day by taking away her Pen's attention. )
She lowers her eyes back to the book in her hands and tries, and tries, to read and block out everything around her.
(Blocking out the combined voices of her mother and sister, still talking about flowers and checking over and over everything else. Daphne the ever perfectionist, the prettiest, the one that might or might not gain the Queen's favor. The one who has a similar, if not the same, dream as Mama. The sister of hers wants to have her children, her own family, and her own happiness ever after, like in fairy tales. But Eloise knows that life is not a fairy tale. She's not optimistic, nor a dreamer. She's a realist, and pragmatic, and her head is not in the clouds like Daphne. At least, Eloise thinks she is.)
She forces herself to turn a page, even though the words barely register in her mind, focusing more on the book.
She suddenly feels suffocated. She couldn't breathe. Everything's overwhelming.
She feels bad for Pen, she does, she hates Portia Featherington for forcing her friend to be here. Pen's too young, too soft, and just too vulnerable to be out. Out in this gilded cage called society, there's a huge chance Pen could be trapped in a miserable marriage with an awful man. Forced to bear his children, a glorified babymaker. Eloise knows that logically, there are some good men, like her late Papa ( The memory of him still gives her heart an acute prickly pain that slowly makes her bleed.), and maybe her brothers too.
And she knows that there's nothing that she can truly do to stop Pen from marrying. That breaks her heart, because try as she might, she couldn't save her chosen sister from the horror that is marriage.
Eloise can admit that Pen does look pretty in her gown, but she sees the apprehension on her face. She saw the fear.
(She wants to shout and scream how unfair all of this was, not just for Pen but to every young girl like her who's forced to do this peacocking, being glorified dolls that are forced to do all of this. Even if they are not ready for it. Even if they have dreams to do something else. Be someone else. She hates this, she truly hates all of this. Nobody listens, nobody notices. She wants to cry. She wants to rage. But she can't. She is told to be quiet.)
'Lady Whistledown, I wonder how she does it. It must have taken her a lot of courage to write and publish all of this.'
Eloise thought to herself as she read the latest issue of the so-called gossip rag. Everyone else might dismiss it as just a gossip rag, but she thinks it's a stroke of genius. Women are limited in what they can and cannot do. Even for her, she might have been afforded certain freedom due to her status and wealth, but her options are limited. It's either you marry, or be a spinster. And to Eloise, being a spinster is a more appealing option than marrying a man who won't value her as her.
(She also knows that, though having more significant freedom compared to a debutante, being a spinster is still being a woman in a world ruled by men. She will probably have finite means of getting an occupation and earning her keep. But to her, it's better because she knows that what she has earned was from her own two hands and not relying on a man that will dangle it in front of her eyes like a lure in a pond.)
She heard from Pen that there's a maid in her household who's with a child, she wonders how one has a child, the real way a child is made, not the hogwash that the so-called ladies of the ton are taught. Only the men are informed while the women are left in the dark.
'It's probably to make the women pliable and subversive, in the complete mercy of their husbands.' She thought darkly, bitterness lingering in her tongue and lead in her throat.
Her heart feels rather tired but there's an ember of something she couldn't explain.