"This room is rather bare, Eloise." Emmanuel says, his nose crinkling, as he assesses his surroundings.

He is not wrong. All that this room houses is a bed and a chest of drawers. Flimsy net curtains keep the darkness at bay. Even the oil lamps in this room are sparse. Damon and I never got around to decorating this room. Blissfully wrapped up in each other, all that concerned us was a room for us and for my mother, when she visited. I will be damned before Emmanuel lays his head in the same bed that any of my family has rested in.

I snort. "You asked to stay a night. I have obliged. Your comfort is of no concern to me."

Emmanuel smirks, his mouth twisting with malice. "Have the years away weakened your memory or do you forget what I can do?"

"I have not forgotten even a second. What would you have me remember? Your mother's taunts? Your continuous failed attempts to consummate a sham of a marriage? The starvation? The beatings? The two months of isolation in a shed? What is it, Emmanuel, that you think I have forgotten?"

"Do you know what I remember?" Emmanuel walks over to me, his hands in his pockets. The glint in his eye tells me he is savouring each second of this. "I remember the look in your eyes when my father killed your horse. I remember the fear trembling through your body when I would raise my hand to you. I remember the resignation in your voice the day you were let out of that shed I locked you in."

My hands are itching to make contact with his repugnant face. I fight back the retort I wish to throw at him. A reaction is exactly what he wants. He wishes to prolong this confrontation, he wishes to frustrate me and make me lose control. I will not give him that satisfaction.

"Sleep well, Emmanuel." I growl before turning to leave the room.

As I close the door behind me, his rippling laughter echoes in my ears. I make my way downstairs. I need to be as far away from him as possible.

There are noises coming from the lounge. I enter to see Mary closing the front door. She looks to me as I approach and smiles.

"Ella is safe at my home. She will be looked after tonight." She looks at me pointedly. That must mean Damon is also there, taking care of Ella.

"Thank you. Ella being here whilst he is, I just cannot..." I trail off. Even saying it aloud is too difficult. My daughter spending a night under the same roof as that monster, the thought of it makes bile rise in my throat. He is too dangerous, too unpredictable. I cannot take that risk.

"I know, Eloise. Come, child, it is late. You need to sleep. I will stay with you for the night."

I allow Mary to lead me back upstairs to the familiar embrace of my bedroom. She waits whilst I change into a nightdress and then guides me into bed, her touch soft and maternal. As she leans over me, stroking my hair, I meet her gaze.

"Mary, thank you."

Mary chuckles. "Whatever for, my dear?"

"For always being by my side."

"That is what mothers do. Now, close your eyes. You look worn out."

"I hope Ella is okay."

"She is well looked after. This time, although brought on by strange circumstances, is exactly what they both may need. Being alone together may work to mend some of the distance created by all the time they have had apart."

"You always know what to say, Mary."

Mary smiles. "Sleep, so you may be reunited with your cherub a little sooner."

She sits down on the bed near me, stroking my hair until I succumb to sleep.

***

It is late afternoon. I am sitting in the kitchen, at the table, chopping vegetables. Emmanuel is seated opposite me, his arms folded, his gaze piercing through me. I can almost feel the inane smirk on his face. I know it all too well.

"Well, Eloise, thank you for being such a gracious host." His tone is laden with sarcasm.

The knife I am holding glints in the light and for a moment, I picture myself leaping across the table and driving it through his body.

Unaware of the dark turn my thoughts are taking, Emmanuel continues. "Our time together has been wonderful, as always. However, I must take your leave now. My family must be awaiting my return."

I glance up at him. "Forgo these false formalities and just leave."

Emmanuel smirks and stands, saying, "I will be back soon. We are in town for several days so I am certain our paths will cross again."

My fingers curl around the knife in my hand and I fight the urge to throw it at him. I keep my gaze on the table until I hear the front door closing and I know he is gone.

The knife slips from my fingers and clatters onto the table. My shoulders slump and I sigh, closing my eyes against the onslaught of relief surging through my body.

It was not meant to be like this. Today, I was meant to be basking in the afterglow of attending the Ball with Damon and Ella, the three of us together as a family. We were supposed to be marvelling at how we all looked in our matching clothes. I would have spent all of last night admiring Damon in his suit, admiring his rise from being a footman to a celebrated businessman. There would have been snide comments from other people at the Ball about the attendance of a single mother and her fatherless daughter, but it would not have bothered me in the slightest. I know that my attendance there would not have been as a single mother, but as a wife and a mother to a legitimate child born in wedlock. Even if no one else knew that but Damon and I, it would have been sufficient for me. I would have been so happy.

Emmanuel showing up had never been part of the plan.

I stand, shaking my head. Focus, Eloise.

I remind myself of my priorities. Get tea prepared. Go to Mary's house and bring Ella home. Ensure Damon is safe.

There is no time to sit and ponder on 'what ifs' and 'what could have been'. I brace myself and begin cooking. Being apart from Ella for such a long period of time is painful. The faster I can do this, the sooner I can see her.

It takes me an hour and a half, but finally I have prepared the braised meat and vegetable soup. I cover the pot with a lid to preserve the food's warmth.

Ella will love this.

"It smells fantastic in here."

At the sound of the male voice, my muscles tense.

Not again. Please, not again.

I turn to see none other than Emmanuel. The happiness that was beginning to bubble within my chest plummets to the bottom of my stomach, leaving me with a feeling of dread.

Emmanuel beams, inhaling deeply. "You have become an exquisite cook, Eloise."

"Why are you here?" I ask, my voice shaky. All I want is to see my daughter. Why does he not leave me alone?

"It is time for tea, is it not? I have come to join you. I thought you may be lonely, eating in this house all alone."

"I was never alone in this house, Emmanuel. I always had Damon and when you took him, I had my daughter. I have Mary. I have all that I need. You may crawl back to the dirty hole that you came from."

"Oh yes, your daughter. I cannot see her anywhere, is she around?" Emmanuel peers around the kitchen.

"Do not concern yourself with her whereabouts, she is someplace safe." I retort.

Emmanuel looks at me and pauses, one side of his mouth tilted in an almost imperceptible smirk. His eyes are devoid of emotion. They make me want to shudder. Something in his face is making my stomach turn.

"Are you sure about that, Eloise?" He questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Of... of course I am." I stutter, his expression making me doubt myself. Ella is at Mary's home. Nothing will happen to her there, she is with her father. Isn't she? "She is safe, I know it."

"Is she?" Emmanuel holds my gaze.

Why is he challenging me on this? Is he deliberately making me paranoid? Nausea is creeping up my throat, clawing at my insides.

I need to see her.

I dash past Emmanuel, running into the street.

My daughter is at Mary's house, Mary took Ella there herself. She entrusted Ella into Damon's hands. Nothing will happen to her whilst she is with them.

My breath is ragged as I run, my feet pounding against the road, the cobblestone slippery and unyielding. The streets are a blur. My blood is throbbing and the only sound I can hear is Emmanuel's last words echoing in my ears. My chest is tight and I take deeper gulps of air, but I cannot stop. I cannot stop until I see her.

My daughter has to be safe.

Emmanuel has no way of knowing where she is. He cannot cause her any harm. He can't, can he?

The sliver of doubt in my gut makes me press on, tears springing to my eyes.