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Scotland had been invigorating. Boring, empty, full of stone halls at the Kilmartin estate that stretched on endlessly with only a few servants and Stirlings around for company. Invigorating, none the less. Eloise loved to walk out to the nearby moor in the early morning, the mist seeming to rise from the dewy grasses themselves, the trees only soft shapes in the dawn light. The fresh air was almost magical out there, filling her with an energy that made her want to kick off her heels, hitch up her skirts, and run like she was a little girl again. Though she would admit it to no-one, she would follow that urge on occasion and relish the wind in her hair.
Returning to England was a blessing, as Eloise had discovered in her quiet solitude that she did, in fact, prefer the bustle of the city and her family’s country manor with its many servants. Beginning her third season on the marriage mart, however, was something she would have preferred to avoid. If only she were a man, able to hold off marrying until she pleased. If she were anyone but a Bridgerton, she would be well on her way to spinster status.
Eloise wasn’t opposed to the idea of love itself. She had felt a stirring or two in her life, a bit of a flutter in her chest when she read Lord Byron, the desire to always be in one's presence when she met Theo Sharpe. It was the ton that bothered her. It was the idea that she was a prize, that she must be courted and married as soon as possible. Mama may have always told her that a love match was possible with anyone and did not need to be rushed, but Eloise could see the anxiety in her face when she spoke of Eloise’s prospects this season. Even her mother thought it would be best for her to simply pick a man and learn to live with it. What her mother always failed to see was that none of the men in the ton suited her!
Passion was something she was beginning to appreciate in the romance stories she had picked up. Intelligence was a must. The ability to see her as an equal was something Eloise would not compromise on. Qualities, it all seemed, that every eligible man her age lacked. At this rate, she would have to live with Benedict for the rest of her life just to have someone who would respect her autonomy. Still, Kate and Anthony had found each other at the ages of twenty-six and thirty. Eloise was only twenty years of age. It was that fact that had her deciding to declare herself off the market.
Penelope was married now, and Cressida had burned her bridges before she left. Eloise would have no one to share her misery with at the balls, especially since word before their return had indicated that Benedict was frequently missing them these days. Eloise might have considered the intelligent, socially conscious Lord Debling as a suitor, but after he’d ended his courtship of Penelope, he’d found another woman to marry just as the season closed. Declaring herself off the market removed all the stress and anxiety for her, though Mama certainly did not feel the same. Eloise didn’t care. Scotland had reminded her of her passions in life.
Mama would soon have her hands full with Hyacinth, anyways. Eloise had caught her trying to sneak into another ball hosted at Bridgerton House, this time wearing some ridiculous wig she’d managed to procure. Eloise had to take a moment to herself after that, stepping out into the cool night to fan herself. Hyacinth had a sharp tongue, honed by years of being the youngest in a chaotic family. She could be vexing, and Eloise needed a refreshing air to remind her of the peace of Scotland.
Outside, she could see shine of a nearly full moon, though the stars were far duller than they had been in the Highlands. The flicker of lamp lights down the path to the carriages illuminated the figure of her brother walking towards them. Eloise sighed—how she wished she could escape the way Benedict did from these functions. He’d returned to doing so with ever-increasing frequency, his search for the Lady in Silver yielding fruitless results.
Although…Eloise glanced back towards the hall, the windows lit brilliantly from inside. Mama was sure to be dealing with Hyacinth for the remainder of the evening. Eloise couldn’t imagine her sister would go quietly to bed and let their mother return to the party without argument. Francesca and John were dancing, Penelope and Colin had retired from the public eye for the evening already (one of the few upsides to married life that Eloise wouldn’t mind). If there was ever a time, it would be now.
Eloise made her way down the steps, her heart beginning to pick up pace. She hadn’t done anything so daring since her scandal two seasons ago, but she knew now that Whistledown hadn’t intended harm with her report, and Penelope wouldn’t do that to her again. Besides, she wasn’t meeting unchaperoned with young men in unseemly parts of London this time, just…exploring. She was often curious where Benedict escaped to on nights like this, and smart enough to know it was no place for a lady to follow. She wouldn’t, not really. She would only go far enough to get a sense for where he went, and no further.
Calling for the footman, Eloise wrapped her shawl tightly around her. The months were turning warmer, but there was still a slight chill to the air this time of night.
“Miss? What are you up to?” Eloise looked up, grinning hesitantly at John, the footman. As the grandson of Mrs. Wilson, John had been around her whole life and was one of the few servants she trusted not to run off to her Mama. They had been thick as thieves when they were younger, when it was still acceptable for her to play with the boys and Mama would allow them to shoot marbles while Mrs. Wilson worked.
“Two weeks of pin money for us to follow Benedict,” she said. John firmly shook his head.
“Absolutely not Miss. ‘Tis no place for a lady to be going. Sides, I thought your running off days were over,” he said. Eloise crossed her arms, her grin turning into a frown. John remained the picture of perfect posture. “I must ask, where is your chaperone?”
“They were over. They are,” she corrected herself. She ignored his chaperone question. “Three weeks, a personal signature from Lady Whistledown, and I won’t leave the carriage. Final offer, we must make haste if I am to know where he seeks solace from society.”
“The one pleading to make the bargain does not have the final say,” John said, but turned to open the carriage door for her as he did. Eloise climbed in, smiling brightly at him.
“Says the one who took the bargain,” she teased, and he shut the door before she was fully settled. She could see the small twist of his lips through the open window as he swung around to the front, climbing up to spur the horses into movement.
The carriage rattled down the streets of Mayfair, moving towards the outskirts of the district. Eloise watched the steady trot of the horses, her elbow propped up on the windowsill as she contemplated how much more freedom men had than women to move freely in the world. Colin had taken two Grand Tours on his own before marrying, and here she was having to bribe her footman into taking her about the city without her handmaiden. At least John could be bribed, Eloise might have gone insane if the older, much more uptight footman hadn’t retired the year before her debut.
They came to a stop far sooner than Eloise had expected, not quite out of Mayfair but certainly straddling the line of where she would normally be allowed. They were down the street from a lively building, and Eloise watched her brother in the distance hop down from his own carriage and enter the place from which music and laughter spilled from.
Eloise leaned her upper half out of the carriage, craning her neck to see inside. John made a disapproving noise, and she waved her hand dismissively at him.
“I said I would not leave the carriage, did I not? This is not doing so,” she said. “Can we get closer?”
“As I’ve said Miss, ‘tis no place for a lady to be,” John repeated. Eloise sighed in frustration. “You’ve seen it now, best to leave soon. You know your brother, it would not be proper for you to witness such activities.”
“But I do not know him!” Eloise declared. “I mean, I do know him, but I do not know this side of him, this part of him that gets to be free. If I am to be a spinster already, do I not deserve some freedoms of my own?”
“A spinster you may have declared yourself to be, but even if Society agreed with you, you have already pushed the boundaries of your freedom, if I may be so bold as to say.” John was sat up on the coachmen’s box, his watchful eye on the streets around them.
“I welcome other people’s thoughts,” Eloise said ruefully, “even if I do not appreciate the contents of them.”
The street lights had already been snuffed in this part of town, the only source of light coming from the place where Benedict was doing Lord-knows-what. Eloise was a well read women, but the topics of men’s festivities were not discussed often in her books. She stared at that building like a moth drawn to a flame, desperate to know what it was like to be free.
It was not long before the front door swung open, a shaft of light silhouetting a strangely large and misshapen figure leaning against the doorframe. He was moving oddly and Elosie squinted as she leaned further still out the window, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. John shifted uncomfortably in her peripherals, glancing at her with the strongest display of concern she’d seen him show all evening.
“Er, Miss—” he said at the same time she muttered, “What is that—?”
The figure contorted and stretched and—the pieces clicked together as the figure became two men, one grabbing the other’s wrist and leading him down the stairs toward the street. Eloise flung herself back against her carriage seat with a speed she didn’t know was possible, one hand pressed to her bosom where her heart was racing. One of the men had been her brother, she was certain of it. What he was doing was a downright scandal worthy of calling for a bishop to marry them on the spot should that have been a woman he was with. The fact that it was a man…well, Eloise didn’t know what that meant but she was certain she’d never heard talk of men engaging in affairs with other men. She knew she did not know of what a man and woman did with one another, but there must be a reason men and woman married. Two men surely was an anomaly, and what did that mean of Benedict’s activities?
John’s face appeared at the carriage door, his brow creased in worry. Eloise was barely breathing, and she knew he was saying something to her, but all she could hear was a rushing in her ears and the pounding of her heartbeat. The carriage door opened and then John was there, pulling her fan its place on her wrist and flicking it open. Cool air wafted across her face and Eloise gulped it in, her face beginning to burn as she processed the situation.
“—Miss?” John’s voice filtered through. “Miss Eloise, you must slow your breathing else you will make yourself faint.”
“Already done so,” she gasped out, snatching the fan from him and quickening its pace. Still, she tried to do as he said and took deeper breaths, forcing herself to hold them for a beat before exhaling. “Take me to my brother’s house.”
“Miss—” John’s voice was sharp, but Eloise’s was sharper as she cut him off with a glare.
“Take me to my brother’s house, now.”
John held her gaze for a second before relenting, pressing his lips tight as he left the carriage. Eloise thought she might have heard him mutter something about ‘Bridgertons’ as he did so, but it was not on her mind. She needed answers.
The ride to Benedict’s bachelor lodgings somehow felt like an eternity, despite the fact that she knew it must be shorter than the ride to the building on the edge of the district had been. She kept turning over the moment she saw in her mind, trying to reconcile it with her worldview. There had been hands in places, and shirts untucked. It was entirely indecent, and Benedict had been doing it on the street with a man.
Finally, the carriage came to a halt again and Eloise stumbled out of it, pulling her shawl as tight as she could around her shoulders. This time, it was not the cold she was trying to keep out, but her sanity in. John hopped down from his place, and not even her threat of taking back her pin money kept him from insisting on accompanying her. There was a light in a second story window, and Benedict’s carriage was in the stable to the side, so Eloise knew she at least would not be kept waiting for her brother to return from his activities. John hurried along beside her as she marched up to the front door, knocking briskly upon it.
The doorman opened it, and she heard some muttered exchange between John and the man as she swept past them and into the entrance hall. Eloise sucked in a deep breath and, as loud as she could possibly muster, screamed for her brother to come down this instant.
There was a loud thump from upstairs and muffled voices. Eloise crossed her arms, tapping her foot as she waited. John and the doorman were stood with backs ramrod straight, presiding over the scene. Benedict appeared at the top of the stairs in a state of disarray such that Eloise promptly averted her eyes.
“Sister? Has someone died?” Benedict was buttoning his shirt as he hurried down the stairs. “What has happened?”
“You!” Eloise clenched her hand in one fist. “What—Get dressed!”
“Are you well?” Benedict was in front of her, sweaty and his hair ruffled, smelling like liquor and…and…something else that Eloise couldn’t place. “Eloise, what’s wrong?”
Eloise looked heavenward, praying for patience, and caught sight of a man peeking over the bannister. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place his name. She hurriedly shifted her eyes away, not wanting to see what state he might be in. Benedict was touching her now, placing his hands on her forehead and cheeks, doubtless worried that she was ill with a fever from how hot her face felt.
“Stop that,” she groused, pushing his hands away and taking another breath. At least his shirt was closed now. She stabbed her finger into his face, her brother drunkenly swaying backwards. “You have some explaining to do.”
“I—” Benedict blinked in confusion, a frown taking over his features. “What?”
“I saw you,” Eloise said, her teeth clenched. Her voice lowered, even as she consciously knew no one would overhear who didn’t already know what was happening here. “Doing…I don’t know what, but it was unmentionable!”
Clarity followed by horror then anger washed over Benedict’s features. He took a step backwards, mirroring her accusing finger.
“You followed me.”
“I did not mean to…” see what happened were the words she meant to say but they got caught in her throat as she realized her lie. She did intend to see what happened. She wanted to know what Benedict did when he escaped society, she wanted to feel the freedom he did. She simply hadn’t been prepared for what she learned.
Benedict scoffed. Eloise thought it might be deserved, a sort of shame starting to take her over as she realized what she was doing.
“I’m sorry brother, I am simply…shocked,” she said, coughing in embarrassment. Benedict threw his hand in the air, a sense of ‘well, obviously’ conveyed in the motion. “I only wanted to know what you did when you escaped, when you were…free. I did not expect…that.”
“Thank you,” Benedict said, placing his hands on his hips and sighing. “Right.” He swung around, looking up the stairs. “Paul! Come on down, it’s alright!”
Eloise looked on in curiosity as the man reappeared, fully clothed thank-the-Lord, and cautiously made his way down the stairs. Benedict waited until he had joined them on the ground floor and threw his arms around the man’s shoulders, gesturing between them in introduction.
“Eloise, this is Paul. Paul, this is my sister.” Benedict gave her a tight smile. “The one who should never meet Lady Arnold.”
“Who?” Eloise asked, but it didn’t matter because the man, Paul, was lightening up and giving Benedict a grin.
“You were right, she certainly does have a spitfire attitude.” Paul held out his hand for a proper handshake, the first time Eloise could ever remember being greeted as such. “It is nice to meet you, Miss Eloise. Benedict has told me much about you.”
“And he has told me nothing of you,” Eloise said with a nervous laugh, adjusting her glove as she reached out to grasp his hand. He shook it firmly, and Eloise could have teared up in that moment.
“Paul shares many of your beliefs about the way of the world,” Benedict said. “And…I share his interest in exploring the fringes of propriety.”
“Come now, no need for metaphor here,” Paul said with a friendly wink at Eloise. “I enjoy the company of both men and women, as does your brother. It is not often spoken of, but there are many of us out there.”
“Oh,” Eloise said, slotting that piece of knowledge into what she knew. “So…do you…are you…courting then?” Her brow furrowed even as she asked it, for courting declared an intent to marry and marriage between two men simply was not done. Benedict snorted with amusement.
“No, the only person I intend to court is my lady in silver, should I ever find her,” Benedict said. “Paul is simply a friend whose company I enjoy from time to time.”
“You and I have a very different definition of friends,” Eloise joked, beginning to feel a bit awkward for interrupting their time together. It was becoming clear to her that this was one of the many things in life that men got to enjoy while women were kept in the dark about. She knew that men in society would often keep mistresses of lower classes, and the occasional scandal would break about a man who had compromised a lady, and now it seemed that men could also share their bed with other men of society, though Eloise was certain it would cause scandal to be talked about openly as it was with mistresses. She was a lady, she was not meant to know of men’s dealings, though it vexed her to be kept in the dark. “Forgive me, I should return to the ball before I am missed.”
“Indeed, our mother would not be pleased to discover both our disappearances,” Benedict said, gesturing towards the servants. “John, see to it that my sister gets home safely please. And do try to resist her bribery in the future.”
Eloise winced as John nodded solemnly. She would have to compensate him handsomely for his troubles. Though, she thought as he escorted her out, she did not want to return home quite yet. She had questions still, and she knew that as free-spirited as Benedict was, he was a gentleman and he would not answer them for her.
“I wish to visit Penelope,” Eloise said as they returned to the carriage. John gave her a withering look, but she held her head high. “She is family now, it would not be improper for me to visit them.”
“You do realize Miss, that it will be my head should your mother find out about your escapades?” John asked. “She is already upset with your brother.”
“I apologize,” Eloise said, twisting her hands together. “But surely you would not deny me the company of my dearest friend in this shocking and world-shattering time? I have been quite overcome by what I have learned, and I have become faint even, it makes far more sense to stop closer where I can recover than to make the trek all the way back to the house. Wouldn’t you agree?”
She put the back of her hand to her forehead for good measure, eyes bright and hopeful as she looked at John. The footman shook his head, but she could see the wry smile pulling at his lips, and she knew he would give in.
It was a short ride to Penelope and Colin’s, and though Eloise felt a little bad for turning up at this hour of night, she knew she couldn’t return home yet with all that she had learned. Luckily, the valet informed her that both Colin and Penelope were still awake in the library, and she waited in the parlor while Penelope was fetched.
The fire was warm and John took up a post by the door, her official chaperone for the evening. Not necessary here, where she was simply meeting her sister-in-law, but she suspected he would not be letting her out of his sight until she was in her bedroom safely handed over to her handmaiden.
“Eloise!” Penelope appeared at the door, wrapped in a frilly night robe with her hair down in loose curls around her shoulders. “Are you well?”
“In matters of health, you have no need for concern.” Eloise sat back against the seat cushions as Penelope joined her on the settee. “In matters of the mind, however, I am most disoriented.”
“Speak your mind, I am here to listen,” Penelope said. Eloise sighed, leaning in close as she dropped her voice to a whisper.
“What is it that a man and woman do with one another?” She asked. Penelope’s face immediately reddened.
“Eloise!” She whispered back. “I—I cannot—”
“Pen.” Eloise gave her a hard look. “How am I meant to know if I truly wish to be married if I do not know what it entails? And clearly, the production of a child and certain acts can be done by men without God’s blessing, as scandals happen all the time. My own family has been in more than I can count these recent years. I want to know why marriage is required for a woman and not a man.”
“Eloise.” Penelope pinched her brow, two spots of rouge-red flaming high on her cheeks. “It is not discussed even amongst married women of the ton, much less between a woman who is married and a debutante.”
“Penelope, sister…” Eloise sighed. “Promise me you will say nothing.”
“You have my word Eloise, you know my pen is guided by good intentions only. I will say nothing if you do not wish it.” Penelope covered Eloise’s hand with one of her own. “Did someone…make an advance on you at the ball? I can fetch Colin—”
“No, no, best not involve any more of my brothers,” Eloise said with a grimace. Penelope cocked her head in curiosity. “I saw Benedict…with a man.” Penelope’s expression remained unchanged, save for an increase of confusion in her eyes. “With a man…as a man might be with a woman.”
“Oh.” Penelope’s eyes widened as her eyebrows raised and her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’. “Well, yes, that is…erm…well that’s quite…are you certain?”
“I spoke to both of them, they were quite clear that some men enjoy the company of other men as they would a woman,” Eloise said flatly. “I just do not understand, I do not even know what it is that a man and woman do together other than promenade and maybe kiss. If there is nothing that physically presents a man from being with another man, just as it is physically possible to be with child without being married first, what is the point of marriage then? And why must it be a man and woman if men can enjoy one another?”
“You are asking far too much for this time of night,” Penelope said as she too settled back in the cushions. “I know you, Eloise, and I know you will not rest until you have answers and it is for that reason only that I will do my best to give them.”
“Splendid,” Eloise grinned brightly. Penelope did not return the expression. In fact, she almost looked unwell now herself, rubbing at her brow in consternation.
“When a man and a woman are with each other,” Penelope started, “there are feelings. Desire, passion, love. I presume in an arranged marriage, these feelings can be manufactured, but I do not know. These feelings can come before marriage, that would be what initiates courting, of course.”
“Yes yes,” Eloise made an impatient motion with her hand, hoping to speed things up.
“These feelings carry physical sensations,” Penelope said. She flushed darker, the red beginning to spread down her face to her neck. “They are most overwhelming. A…tingling. A burning. All throughout your body, but…centered. Strongest in one spot.”
“Oh.” Eloise tipped her head to the side. She knew of what Penelope was talking about. She had felt it herself when meeting with Theo, when reading of the great romances in Jane Austin’s works. She felt it when imagining being greeted by a man who would respect her, allow her autonomy, listen to her when she spoke. It was an odd feeling, similar to the one she had when in need of a chamber pot. Once, she had been briefly unclothed in her dressing area while her handmaiden searched for a dress that had gone suddenly missing. It was early in the morning during the summer months and the window across the room had yet to be shuttered, a cool breeze entering the room as she stood waiting. As the air had brushed across her skin, goosebumps raised on her arms and she felt the touch of it in areas that were almost always concealed. It had been most fascinating, the strange aching that had risen in her from that brief sensation.
“You are aware of the feeling then, and where it comes from?” Penelope asked. Eloise nodded.
“From…” Eloise cleared her throat and gestured vaguely towards her skirts. Penelope nodded back.
“Yes. Have you ever…” Penelope’s face tightened. “Do you know what it looks like?”
“Pen!” Eloise’s felt a blush rise to her own cheeks and she glanced at the doorway, hoping the servants were far away enough to not hear their whispering.
“You are the one who wanted answers!” Penelope admonished. Eloise made a face. That was true, and she knew decorum had been out the door when she demanded Penelope reveal the secrets of married life to her.
“Yes…I know what it looks like.” Eloise admitted. “A little funny looking if you ask me. Mama said everyone has one.”
“All women have one,” Penelope corrected. “At least, I assume so. Colin did not indicate that I was different from any other woman.”
“What do men have then?” Eloise asked, skipping over the mention of her brother. She did not wish to remember that Penelope only knew such things because of him.
Penelope gave a determined sigh. “It is not—I do not know how to explain it. Women…it is like a second heart, a place that pulses as such when marital activities take place. It is where one bleeds from, and births a child from, and it goes inward, like the tunnel of a rabbit’s burrow, or…or…like one’s ear or mouth.”
“There is a hole there?” Eloise exclaimed, and then clapped a hand over her mouth. That certainly had been too loud, but when she glanced at John, his statue-esque posture at the entrance of the room hadn’t changed.
“Indeed.” Penelope shushed her. “A man’s second heart is different though. His does not go inward, but outward.”
“I am…confused.” Eloise’s was having trouble picturing what on earth Penelope was describing. She had seen what her own body looked like a couple times in her life, and remembered once when she was younger starting to touch it in the bath before a servant swatted her hands away and warned that if one did such things, they would grow hair all over their body until they turned into an ape and have to go live in the jungle. In hindsight, Eloise might have preferred a jungle over the ton, but the lesson had been instilled quite strongly. There were…folds…but no tunnel she had been aware of, and without knowing what that looked or felt like, she was woefully unprepared to try and imagine a man’s.
“Oh dear,” Penelope said, bending forward and placing her fingers on her temples. “This is why marital activities are not discussed with debutantes, it would be so much easier to explain if you had a husband.”
“Well I do not and I am beginning to feel certain I do not ever want one!” Eloise yelped. “Does every man walk around with an outward-tunnel under his trousers?”
“Hush, Eloise,” Penelope admonished. “It is not…whatever you are picturing.”
“I am having a great deal of trouble picturing anything at all!” Eloise snapped, though she did take care to keep her voice low this time.
“It is like…an arm.” Penelope held up her forearm, and Eloise felt her jaw drop open. “Not in size! It is much smaller, maybe the length of a hand-width at most. But during marital relations, it is strong and hard like one, with a sort of small cap at the end and two round fists below. It is inserted during the marital act.”
“...Huh…” Eloise tapped her chin as she tried to form the diagram in her mind. Her eyes unwittingly drifted back to John and she found herself staring at his trousers for a moment before snapping back to herself. It was improper what she was doing.
“When not engaged in the marital act, it is smaller, and…squishy. Touch causes it to grow. This is why men and women must maintain a distance from one another before marriage, I have been told it can be quite painful if it grows and does not reach completion.”
“Completion?” Eloise’s eyebrows raised. “What does that mean?”
“It is when the seed of life is expelled from a man’s body. It is required to be deposited in a woman’s second heart for her to swell with child, but a man can reach completion in other ways.”
“So…what would two men do? How do they lie as man and woman? Do they…complete each other in other ways?” Eloise asked. Silence fell over them as Penelope contemplated the question.
“I do not know,” she confessed. “It is a most heavenly act though, when one is married. I do hope you find someone with which to experience it someday.”
“But marriage is not required for it, is it not? I mean, if all men and women have these second hearts, surely they could do such things without being married.” Eloise waved her hand in the air, frowning in consideration.
“That is how illegitimate children are born!” Penelope grabbed her hand, gripping it tightly. “Eloise do not tell me you would compromise yourself and bring scandal on your family simply because you do not want to marry. That is something only the lowest of classes would risk.”
“No! No,” Eloise reassured her, though the very thought had crossed her mind. “If there are no suitors I wish to marry, then there certainly are no suitors I would want to engage in such intimate acts with. Rest assured dear sister, my curiosity has been satiated by your explanations and I need nothing more.”
“Good,” Penelope nodded, looking reassured. “As…awkward as it may be, I would much rather you come to me with your questions than even think of such things.”
“Of course,” Eloise said, smiling at her. Penelope smiled back, relief evident in her expression.
“I do not think I shall be able to sleep now,” Penelope confessed, sitting back in the settee. “Let us talk of other things. How has watching over Hyacinth’s finishing lessons been coming?”
“Dreadful,” Eloise rolled her eyes, and launched into a story about Hyacinth’s governess suggesting that Eloise participate in their daily lessons instead of sitting to the side.
They talked into the early hours of the morning, until Penelope had finally tired and Eloise bade her farewell with a promise to visit for tea in the afternoon. John escorted her to the carriage, and Eloise watched the early dawn light starting to bloom on the horizon as he brought her home.
The house was quiet when they pulled up, and Eloise took John’s offer of a hand as she stepped down to the entry path. She bade him goodnight and was about to begin to make her way inside when his hand caught her wrist, gently stopping her.
“Miss,” John said. “I know of a scientific book on the body. It is usually reserved for men pursing the field of medicine, but you may borrow it.”
“Oh.” Eloise cocked her head, regarding him with a new respect. “Do you have an interest in medicine, John?”
“I do,” he said with a nod. “And I know how far your pursuits of knowledge oft take you, Miss. I should not like to think where you may ask me to take you next if your further questions arise while Mrs. Bridgerton is not available.”
“Perhaps all my questions were answered already,” Eloise challenged. John cocked an eyebrow.
“I should not think it possible for you to have asked every question that comes to your mind. For every answer you receive, two more must arise in its place,” John said. “Knowledge is a worthy pursuit, I do not think your family appreciates your thirst for it well enough.”
“Thank you.” Eloise smiled, and considered him. “I shall borrow your book, only if you do not mind my coming to you when my questions inevitably arise.”
“As you wish,” John acknowledged, a small smile gracing his face that sent a small flutter through her chest. “Goodnight, Miss Eloise.”
“Goodnight, John.”
Eloise watched from the gate as he left, returning to the carriage house as the sun peeked through the early morning mist clouding Mayfair. She felt the urge to run again, as she had on the Scottish moors, and could not hold back a small bounce in her step as she returned to the quiet house. Perhaps she did not need to quite take herself entirely off the market…not yet.