8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Colin

The building vibrated with the force of the music before they even reached the doorway. That was, if the thudding noise could be called music. Colin brushed his hands over his too-small shirt, the whiskey he'd partaken in back in Ava's apartment churning in his stomach. At his side, Eloise wore her excitement all over her face, as she bounced on her toes. Looking at her, Colin knew there was absolutely no chance he could back out now. He tried not to think of what Mama would say.

Penelope Featherington was dangerous to look at. He was sure his newly discovered feelings were written all over his face, and he hadn't even had the chance to understand them fully himself. She watched the queue around them with keen eyes, curiosity and interest clear in her posture and movements. Her fingers twitched at her side in a too-familiar manner. Colin watched for a moment the shapes her fingers made in the air, sure for a moment he must be mistaken.

He was not. He felt his head tilt to the side as he watched Penelope draw letters into thin air, a habit he himself was guilty of—especially on his travels, if he ever made the mistake of forgetting his notebook, he spent his entire excursions aching to return, to write down what he had seen, or done. His notes filled entire books, pages strewn with rough-drawn pictures and so many words. Words which never quite seemed enough to portray his thoughts, but which allowed them to settle just a little.

He itched for a notebook now, to try and untwist the chaos his thoughts had become. To think Penelope had the same fixation… Her letters were always eloquent and detailed, of course, but Colin had to wonder if there was something more. A secret journal she kept, a novel she was writing? What he wouldn't give to find it, and read it. To unveil every hidden part of her.

Perhaps, when he demonstrated his full commitment to a proper courtship of her, he would discover all the secrets he had never imagined she was keeping.

She glanced up at him, catching his gaze on her, and he gave her a smile, even as a strange kind of panic seemed to take up residence behind her eyes. Her returned smile was tight, and he wondered what he might have done to cause such a response. Perhaps he was coming on too strong, but just holding himself at arms length from her was getting more difficult.

Before he could ask, however, they reached the front of the queue and, following a nudge from Jack, and Lacey's bright smile for the enormous man on the door, they were all waved inside.

The noise consumed him. Colin felt the beat pulse in his throat. His ears ached almost immediately, and as they passed through the dark corridor and stepped into an enormous room packed with dancers, he quite forgot how to breathe.

There were people everywhere. Girls and guys alike brushed against him; a throng of friends snaked past them, all holding hands in a line. The room seemed to bounce, the dances nothing like anything Colin had ever seen, all jumping and writhing to the tuneless beat.

"This way," Ava yelled in his ear, grabbing his hand. "The music's better upstairs."

It could not be much worse, Colin thought, gladly following her.

They formed their own train; as Ava tugged at his hand, pulling him towards the stairs, Colin reached for the nearest person, taking Penelope's hand in his. He had taken her hand before, without thinking about it twice. Now, though—his skin felt suddenly too tight. He was so aware of the warmth of her touch, the pressure of her grip (a touch looser than he'd like).

He had not danced with her before without gloves on. The concept made his heart skip a pulse, as they galloped upstairs towards a different feel of music, just as loud and thundering but this time accompanied by clearly audible words wrapped around half a tune.

Jack and Lacey led them into the fray, Lacey with her head tipped back and the words of the song shaped by her lips. Then they were surrounded. Bodies pressed in from all sides, as brief gaps between dancers opened and closed with little predictability. Penelope pressed close to his side, a frown ghosting across her forehead as she glanced back into the crowd.

Had someone touched her?

Colin felt something claw its way up his throat. They broke into what was almost a clearing, the smallest gap opening up between dancers, and the unease on Penelope's face seemed only to increase. Her throat bobbed, her hand clung tighter to his, and a flush overtook her features.

Colin had to return her to comfort and excitement. To interest and intrigue. He turned to her, still holding her hand, and bowed as deeply as he could.

"May I have this dance?" he asked.

Pen pressed her lips together, looked down at their entwined hands, and gave the barest nod.

It was enough. Colin took her hand, cycled through the dances he knew and chose the one which required the smallest amount of space. Then he settled into a familiar hold, watched the slightest hint of comfort and understanding come over Penelope's face, and he led her into the strangest dance he had ever had the pleasure of engaging in.

Space was tight, pushing them closer together than the hold usually allowed. She stepped on his toes, flushing in apology, and he only beamed in response, watching as the unease she felt slowly melted away, as her focus gradually settled on him, and her body relaxed.

Space seemed to form wherever they stepped, until Colin forgot to be aware of his surroundings. He just moved where the music indicated, Penelope's bare hand pressed tight to his, her spellbinding blue eyes enrapturing him. He felt her every breath, as one song morphed seamlessly into another and she made no attempt to move away.

Normally, dance meant conversation, but the music here was far too loud for such an endeavour, so neither Colin nor Penelope made any attempt to talk. He did not know if he could have formed words, anyway. His entire being felt electrified, as if the lightning had struck his bones and filled him with its power. He was so aware of every brush of her leg against his, as their feet moved in practised steps around each other. The flush on her skin darkened the longer they danced, the tumble of her hair slipping towards the plunging neckline of her dress.

And her lips. They were softly parted pillows, rich and red and terribly kissable. Her body was sinfully tempting, her chest heaving as they danced on and on and on. She did not complain, however, and she kept up phenomenally, her eyes trapped on his, unwavering, scarcely blinking. He felt he might fall into the sea of them, that all her secrets were written there, just behind the film of blue, and that if he looked hard enough he might just learn them all.

He would have to marry her. There was no other possible course of action. He had supposed that he would never marry, the coax of travel tugging at his being, but now he was quite certain the beaches of Cyprus would be dull without Penelope upon their sands. The mountains of France would seem small without her eyes to take them in. He could not comprehend the concept of ever leaving her side again.

His bed would seem empty without her upon the sheets.

The final thought sent a jolt through him, and his gaze snared upon the soft pillows of her lips, imagining the pleasure of tasting them every day of his life. To continue to exist without kissing her was unthinkable. He swayed, as their dance slowed. Beads of sweat brightened Penelope's skin. She seemed to gasp for air, her hand tightening in strange spasms on his. Her throat bobbed (he imagined kissing the length of her throat), and then her eyes broke away from his, her gaze dropping to his lips.

Her tongue darted out, brushing her own lips, and the final tether of Colin's honour snapped. His careful plans, his determination to woo her properly flew out the window as he dove for her, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her with abandon.

How had he ever lived without kissing Penelope Featherington?

His entire body flared with energy; his every nerve came alive as she wound those delectable fingers into his hair and she kissed him with every ounce of passion he imagined the world contained. He grabbed handfuls of her hair, and it was just as soft as he had dreamed. He dragged his palms over the span of her back and every inch of her body pressed to his, her breath mingling with his, the smallest of noises she made somehow audible above the thunder of the music.

And Colin's brain caught up with him. He jerked away, gasping. The room was unchanged. Music pounded and bodies filled the space, but there was no sign of Eloise or Ava, or Jack and Lacey.

Pen pulled her hand from his, and he returned his attention to her, to the redness of her lips and the ragged curls of her hair and the flush of her skin.

He had done that to her. He had kissed Penelope Featherington, and his life would never be the same. He had done this entirely wrong.

"I'm so sorry," he said, knowing his words could not be heard.

Pen saw the words on his lips, nonetheless. A thousand expressions crossed her face, from sorrow to hope, through confusion and denial, and back to a steely determination. She reached for his shoulder, tugged his ear down to her lips.

"Nobody has to know," she said. Then, when he turned his face to hers, confusion spiralling through his mind, she kissed him again and all his thoughts became her.

Eloise

As Colin and Penelope came together in a dance, the crowd seemed to shift around them, giving them space which surely hadn't existed in the room before. People turned to watch, jabbing each other and marvelling at the pair who had no idea they were even there. They moved in sync, Penelope following Colin's lead without any verbal communication necessary, and Eloise felt a jolt in her chest. They were meant to be together, she knew. They were meant for this.

She would never experience what they did. People would never stop and marvel at her terrible dancing, even if it was with a partner she were in love with. The only whispers which would follow Eloise would be barbed.

She took a step back, then she fled. The music was too loud. The room was too close. She shoved through the mass of bodies, wishing she had paid more attention to where they had come in. Everything looked the same. Cries of irritation followed where she went, elbowing her way onwards and treading on toes, until she burst out of the crowd and found herself facing a huge window with a slim balcony on the other side.

Where was the door? She followed the wall, breathing hard. The air in here was far too stuffy. She thought she might faint when her hands finally caught on a handle, and she shoved the door open, gulping at the cool evening air. She braced herself on the balcony, ashamed to find tears stinging her eyes. She should be glad for Penelope and Colin. Was true love not what Mama always said was the world's most beautiful gift?

Penelope would be her sister, if they wed.

Eloise grit her teeth and clung to the balcony as the tears she failed to suppress rolled down her cheeks. She had not had nearly enough wine for this.

Or perhaps she had had too much.

"Hey."

Eloise jumped half out of her skin, whirling to see Ava behind her, an understanding smile on her face.

It was too much. Eloise curled her hands into her hair and sunk down to the floor. "I never even wanted to fall in love," she said into her hands.

A hand pressed to her shoulder. A shift sounded, and a body pressed to her side. Eloise leaned into it. "I never cared about any of it," she insisted. "I never wanted to marry, or give myself to another. I always wanted to be more than that; to be intelligent, to learn, rather than shackle myself to a man."

Ava squeezed her shoulders, and Eloise could not keep the words from falling from her. "It seems I am doomed to neither," she spat. "I will return home, knowing this world exists, and I will never be able to go to school in the way you have; I will never understand all those words you say… and I will never know love. I will remain a burden to my family for the rest of my life, and if anyone ever finds out my true feelings, I will become nothing more than an embarrassment. The world is run by men, and so I will have no place in the world."

"It's not fair," Ava said softly.

"It is not!" Eloise agreed vehemently. She lifted her head and looked at Ava, the girl with so many thoughts in her head, so much learning, and so much strength and kindness.

"I wish I could stay here," Eloise whispered.

Ava sighed, reaching out to brush Eloise's tears from her skin. "You know, here isn't really the paradise you believe. It's hard, too."

Eloise could not believe it to be true. How could it possibly be so hard to have everything available to her? All her dreams were achievable here.

"I'm the only girl in my lab group," Ava admitted. "Things have come a long way, but I still have to fight every day to keep up. I feel like everyone's always just waiting for me to make a mistake, so they can accept they were right the whole time. That I can't really be worth the same as them, because I'm a woman. Nobody would say so out loud, but I just know they're all thinking it."

"You're the smartest person I've ever met," Eloise breathed.

"I'm pretty sure I'm the dumbest person at work," Ava whispered. She leaned into Eloise's side with a heavy sigh. "I've never told this to anyone before. I know Jack worries, because I never take any holidays. I work in the evenings and the weekends, and I feel like I still have nothing to report every time I see my supervisor. I feel like I'm just a huge disappointment to everyone."

Eloise dragged a hand across her face and laughed faintly. "I am quite sure that is not true, but I cannot begrudge your feelings. I guess some things never change."

"I guess not." Ava's head fell onto Eloise's shoulder. "You're right that many things are easier, nowadays. But it's not easy. It's like, so many people have fought so hard to give me these opportunities. And I know I'm so lucky to have them—so many people like you would have killed to have what I have, but… it's just hard. I feel like if I fail, I'm letting down every woman who ever wanted what I have."

"I'm lucky, too," Eloise admitted. She thought of Theo, and closed her eyes. "I may never know love, and I might be a burden to my family, but I know they will never forsake me. Back home, I have so many opportunities that nobody else has. More than many women, in fact. More than many men, as well. I have a library of books I know how to read. I have new dresses for every ball, and a name which turns heads. I have never been hungry, or cold, or alone."

"And yet," Ava breathed.

Eloise sighed, turning to take in Ava's profile; the long length of her nose and the tilt of her lips. The purple vibrancy of her hair tugged back into a tail, and the outfit Mama would have choked upon seeing.

"I believe I could love you," she whispered. "If I were given the chance."

Ava's lips twitched into a smile. "That would be nice," she said. "I've never been loved before."

"I do not believe that can be true," Eloise said.

"And yet," Ava said, with a soft laugh. She looked up at Eloise through her eyelashes. "Do you mean it?"

Eloise blinked. "Why would I say it if I did not mean it?" she demanded. "I already told you that you are the smartest person I have ever met. You are kind-hearted and compassionate to take us in, and every time you speak, I am left speechless. I have never met anyone like you, and I am quite sure I am halfway in love with you already."

Ava stared, before drawing in a deep breath, a glaze of tears gleaming in her eyes. "Eloise," she breathed. "You're the sweetest girl I've ever known."

"That is not a descriptor commonly used."

"And yet," Ava said, grinning now. Her eyes skipped over Eloise's form, from the black knee-length skirt pooled around her legs and the button-up shirt patterned with tiny starbursts. Ava reached out and curled a strand of Eloise's hair around her finger. Then she sighed and dropped her hand. "You say the most romantic things," she said, "but I don't know you enough to say I feel the same. I won't take advantage of you; you are far too lovely to break."

Eloise's breath skipped in her throat, and she leaned forwards. "Won't you let me make that decision?" she asked. "I will likely never get the chance to be broken like this again. I am happy to accept the danger."

"Eloise—"

"And in two weeks, I will be gone, and you will not have to worry anymore," Eloise continued. "If you truly feel nothing, I will understand. But if you are scared for me, know that it is likely too late for me, either way."

Ava swallowed hard, a crease forming between her eyebrows as her eyes roved over Eloise's face. Eloise knew she must be blushing, but she stubbornly held Ava's gaze nonetheless.

"You're so pretty," Ava breathed. "I can't—" she shook her head, not looking away from Eloise's face. "You really like me?"

As if she was anything other than remarkable. Eloise let out a soft laugh.

"Kiss me," she said, "and I'll prove it."

Ava's eyes widened. Her gaze flicked down to Eloise's lips. "Oh, fuck it," she whispered, and leaned in.

She was gentle. One hand pressed to the side of Eloise's face as her lips touched very lightly to hers. Eloise gasped softly, and Ava shifted, turning and pressing a little closer, her tongue sweeping over Eloise's lips and softly parting them.

It was sweet, and gentle, and caring, and Eloise sank into the embrace, her heart cracking open in her chest even while it seemed to come alive for the very first time.

She would never be the same.