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CHAPTER EIGHT;
society is broken, not us
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Eloise had not laid eyes on her girl for many days now. She had initially feared Ophelia had fled, as she had so harshly threatened to during their fight, but Violet confirmed she was still in residence with them, just confined to her room for the time being. Mabel pranced around the house as if nothing was wrong, and every time Eloise saw her, tears welled in her eyes.
It was a disgusting feeling that plagued her, these feelings and this guilt; she had ruined Daisy's life. Now, she knew, the girl would go off and marry as soon as she could, if only to flee far from Eloise and her ruinous actions.
She knew she had been quieter than usually, but she was thankful her family was so involved in their own lives to notice. That was, until one night Benedict found her moping out in the gardens, as the moon rose to its place in the sky.
The evening was chilled, nipping at Eloise skin until goosebumps formed across the delicate layer of pale skin that covered her arms. The swing set that now laid mostly unused in their gardens was once a place of great entertainment, when she was a child. Now, they were a place of comfort, and a place of thought.
"You'll freeze if you stay out here any longer," Benedict called, as he approached her from behind.
Eloise rolled her eyes, ungrateful for the interruption. She was most content with the wretched thoughts that plagued her mind. But if she knew Benedict, and she thought to know her brothers quite well indeed, she knew he would not leave until she opened up. He was irritating like that. "Perhaps that is what I desire. To freeze peacefully into a statue, and be free of the burdens of this...torturous world".
"I doubt freezing to death would either be peaceful or pleasant, but believe what you wish, sister," He settled in the swing beside her, eyeing her carefully, as if he wished to depict each and every thought that made its way into her mind. "What has happened? You are duller than usual, and Ophelia refuses to see anyone. She's been taking her meals in her room, alone, in case you were unaware. I'm afraid the poor girl might go mad!"
"Or she is simply hatching her plans of escape," Eloise countered bitterly, "Wouldn't be the least surprising".
Benedict clicked his tongue, unsure of how to proceed. "What happened, Eloise?" He asked, leaning towards her as if that would beckon her to reveal her truth, "What happened between you and Ophelia".
"Nothing," She lied, refusing to look at him. Instead, she stared off at the skies, taking in their beauty.
Benedict lent back. Anthony had a habit of oversharing, but he was unsure if the things his brother had told him in confidence were kind enough for Eloise's ears. But as he sat there, deliberating, he watched as Eloise's face fell into a place of sadness, as her eyes searched for answers within the stars. "Do you know why Ophelia came to London, Eloise?" He asked eventually.
This caught the sad girl's attention. "Her brother, Sir Alexander Williams, died," She answered knowingly.
"Yes, that is true. He did pass. But there were many eligible men within her small community. Anthony easily could have matched her with a family friend, or an acquaintance of her brother. But he chose to bring her to us, to London. Do you know why?"
Daisy's words replayed on a loop in Eloise's head. "I have been ruined by this scandal once before, I will not allow you to drag me down for a second time, Eloise Bridgerton". "I'm guessing it was some scandal or another," Eloise said.
"It was. She was in love with someone below her station. Someone...improper," Benedict said, drawing out his words. "She was in love with a girl by the name of Jessamine Lovett".
And suddenly, all the pieces fell into place.
Eloise sighed. That is what she had meant. But it also meant she would take no risks, and Eloise would most certainly never ask her too. She came to London to change the narrative, and Eloise wasn't helping in the slightest.
"I know many people alike Ophelia, dear sister," Benedict continued, Eloise looking to him with saddened eyes, "They are everywhere, and right here in London too. The Academy Schools are filled with them. We are not uncommon, sister".
Eloise halted forward. "We?" She questioned, her eyes bright and wide, "You..you are like them. You-"
"Like men?" He asked, making a face. "Sometimes. I also like women. It is a scale, you see, and sometimes you are not this nor that, but both," He paused for this next question. He did not wish to offend his sister, despite confidently believing he already knew the answer.
"Do you love Ophelia?"
Eloise bit her lip, but it wasn't enough to keep the waterfalls from flowing from her eyes. She collapsed into her brother's arms, sobbing into her linen shirt. "Shh, shh, it's alright," Benedict comforted, stroking her hair in the moonlight, "We are not the broken ones, Eloise. Society is".
