And so a month passed, and then another month.
Francis called on her weekly, and they spent some time together. He'd tried to kiss her only once in that time, a kiss which she'd avoided by pretending her attention was captivated by something nearby. Francis hadn't seemed to mind it too much.
But she'd also found out the reason for Royce's absence. He'd relocated to his new seat, an hour outside of London, and two hours away from the Crawfield house. He'd been gone this whole time, and he hadn't told her anything.
No, she'd had to find everything out from her mother, who'd been told by Royce's mother. Elis couldn't help but feel slighted. They were still friends, weren't they?
But probably the worst news came to her sometime two months after the Crawfield house party. She was having tea in the gardens with Francis when he'd suddenly brought up a topic that she'd tried to put out of her mind.
"The last few weeks have been wonderful," Francis commented, his voice far from excited.
"Indeed." Elis plastered a smile on her face and agreed.
"I believe we've had enough time to get more intimately acquainted and to confirm our compatibility." Why did this sound like a rehearsed speech?
Francis kept talking, and Elis finally started paying attention when she heard the word marriage from his lips.
"Dearest Elis, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Francis suddenly went on one knee, his fingers holding a ring and pointing it towards her.
She had to blink twice to focus on what was happening in front of her.
"Me?" She barely whispered. Her face paled. She should have known it was coming. They'd been regularly spending time together. But now, with recent news, her decision was even more cemented.
Francis was still smiling at her, urging her to reply.
"I'm sorry, Francis, I really am," Elis said. Francis frowned at her words.
"What do you mean?"
"I can't marry you."
"What? Why? Of course, you can marry me. You love me." He said with so much conviction that Elis was stunned for a second.
"I'm sorry, Francis." She repeated, not knowing exactly what she was supposed to reply to that. She made to leave the garden, but a hand stopped her.
"No. I don't believe it." Francis took her arm and brought her in front of him. His hands went to her shoulders, and he was trying to get her to look him in the eyes.
"Why? Tell me why." He continued.
"I'm pregnant..." Elis whispered.
"What?"
"I'm pregnant. I can't marry you, Francis. I'm pregnant with someone else's baby." Elis finally got the words out. She dreaded the look that Francis gave her. There was so much contempt in his gaze.
"Who? Royce? Fuck! I should have known it." He spat, his hands slightly shoving her away.
"No, no. You have it all wrong. It's not Royce's." She quickly responded, trying to defend Royce to the best of her abilities.
"Then, who?"
"A gentleman I met at my come-out ball." Elis lied through her teeth. But Francis believed her. His expression told her as much.
"Fuck!" He cursed again, his eyes burning a hole through her. "All this time... why did you even agree to a courtship?" He asked her.
"I... it was a good excuse. The gentleman in question is not someone my parents would have approved of." Elis could not believe how the words were flowing out of her mouth. She was inventing a whole narrative, and Francis seemed to believe her.
"Fuck!" He turned his back and left, leaving her alone in the garden. Tears threatened to make their way down her cheek.
She did well, Elis told herself. So many people were getting hurt because of her selfish choices. She needed to figure something out. But she'd do it on her own. Yes, she wouldn't let anyone pay for her mistakes.
CHAPTER 13
Royce was not happy. He was currently working on getting sloshed in his new house. Just as he'd been doing for the past month, after Francis had taken him aside to let him know that he'd be proposing marriage to Elis very soon. Royce had tried to keep his feelings to himself and had congratulated his friend. But inside... he had been dying.
Interesting how the moment he'd been awarded a title for his services to the Crown, all of the debutantes that had otherwise scoffed their noses at his meager position as a third son had suddenly flooded his gates. He'd had so many calls to his new residence in the past month, that he'd taken to pretending to be away. All so he would not come face to face with the marriage mart mamas. And besides, it's not like he'd ever want any other woman but Elis. He'd tried. He'd made himself look at other women, try to see something in them. But it was futile. Royce knew that he'd never be able to feel what he felt for Elis for another woman. What was even more depressing was the fact that he'd just stopped trying altogether. If only he were more selfish... Then, he could confess his feelings to Elis, maybe even compromise her into marrying him. But he couldn't... Not when it meant she could end up hating him. Not when he would become the reason for her unhappiness. His mother had been right about one thing. His love for Elis should not blind him to her own needs and wants as a person, and he should respect them all the more.
Which was why he'd developed a routine of imbibing maybe too much wine. Even the few servants he'd taken on had noticed that their new master was a drunk. Of course, they would excuse his behavior by blaming it on the horrors of the war.
Royce sighed, his hand on the bottle, ready to pour himself another glass when his footman announced a visitor. He frowned, knowing he wasn't expecting anyone, especially this late at night.
"It's Lord Francis Callaway, my lord." The footman
