Through My Eyes

Chapter Twenty-One

The ballroom heaves with crowds of people; some twirl around the raised platform of the dance floor, some huddle in corners squealing with laughter and most of them jostling each other around the ballroom, determined to get to their predetermined destinations. The air is heavy with idle gossiping, the latest scandals and pointless bickering over which woman is the best dressed. The oxygen I breathe mixes with the smell of smoke, sweat and alcohol, combining to create a deadly odour.

I sit at a table, staring down at the silk white cloth with a red stripe through it, designed to give the ball that upper-class feel it so direly requires. I am at a ball with Emmanuel; his family remained at home this once. Two nights ago, an invite was sent to us by a Mr. and Mrs Hadeston, asking if we could honour them by having our first public outing as husband and wife to the ball they are holding. The ball is in favour of their twenty-one year old daughter, who has apparently just announced her second pregnancy.

Emmanuel sits opposite me, his beady eyes fixed on me.

Finally, unable to bear his gaze on me, I snap, "Yes, Emmanuel?"

Emmanuel smirks. "You look rather enchanting tonight. Is there anybody you were hoping to impress?"

I fight the urge to roll my eyes and then scan the grandeur of the ballroom. "Yes, actually." I point in the direction of an elderly man with a record-breaking moustache drowning in a stupor of alcohol. "Him. Do you not think he is rather dashing?"

To my surprise, instead of lashing out angrily at me, Emmanuel lets out a bellow of laughter.

"Oh, Eloise, do not jest so! My sides ache already from the excess of food!" He cracks a grin, baring all his teeth.

I regard him silently, not acknowledging his comment with a response. Emmanuel's laughter dies down and he looks at me intently, his eyes burning through me with a curiosity I have never met before.

"What?" I whisper, unable to muster enough courage to be able to emit any sound louder than that.

Emmanuel leans forward and says softly, "I wish things weren't like this between us, Eloise. I just wanted to love you. Do you know how hard you make that?"

I wait for him to laugh evilly at me, but the same grave expression holds Emmanuel's face in place.

"I did not want you to love me. My mother wanted you to love me and me to love you." I say, looking at a space above Emmanuel's head.

Emmanuel reaches out and takes my hand across the table. "I know and I do not hold that against you. I would just like for you to be able to look at me and not hate me, at least, for now. We have the rest of our lives to love each other."

I cannot give in to Emmanuel's sweet talking. I have seen this before, many times. One minute, he can be the Prince Charming of every girl's dreams and within the next, he can be a brutal monster.

I shake my head and slide my hand away. "I do not plan for our marriage to last that long, Emmanuel."

"And where will you go?" Emmanuel asks, the hardness in his eyes returning slowly.

"Wherever I go, it won't matter to you." I say, sitting back in my seat and folding my arms.

There is a shrill voice calling Emmanuel's name and Emmanuel sighs, sitting back as a tall, slender woman with striking green eyes rushes to us.

She sends a warm smile in my direction before proceeding to kiss both of Emmanuel's cheeks profusely. "Emmanuel! You made it! The girls are just dying to talk to you two. Let's go!"

She hauls Emmanuel to his feet and grabs my hand, dragging us both along with her like a hurricane of energy. She leads us over to to a gaggle of ladies, who all stop and stare when we approach.