Author's Note: 

Apologies for this chapter and the last not being the most eventful. I am aware that things are progressing slowly, but consider this the calm before the storm as Eloise and Damon have a lot coming their way. I hope that you all are enjoying the book so far and that I am doing their characters justice. Thank you, as always for your support. 

It has been two months since my arrival to this village. So much has happened. So much has changed. Things I did not foresee, nor expect, or even dream of, have happened. No matter how many times I told myself I was not returning to find Eloise, I knew deep down in my heart that I was returning just for her. I knew that there was little opportunity for a warehouse here – it is not near sea or any open water through which my company could improve trade. The location was completely wrong, but I could not stop myself. I had to search for her at least one time.

I must be the luckiest man in all of England. Rather than me finding her, she found me. She showed me that life is still worth living, she showed me that there is still meaning to my existence, she showed me that even I can experience happiness once more. More importantly, she gave me the role of being a father and returned to me the title of being the man she loves.

As I enter through the front door, I look around the large room for them. The two people who have transformed me. Ella and Eloise. They are nowhere to be seen, but the door to the inner hallway is open and I can hear tinkling laughter emanating from another room.

I step forward, following the sound until I peek into the parlour. This room is usually reserved for guests.

Inside, Eloise, Ella and Mary are sitting on a chaise and opposite them, facing away from me, is a tall man with a dark head of hair.

I freeze. Is that...? Has he returned? In just one breath, it is as though my heart has sunk. All of the light, airy feelings in my chest have dropped and a heavy press has replaced it, taking with it my ability to inhale and exhale. If he has returned, then... what will I do? What does that mean for me? Would I be allowed to continue seeing Ella? What about Eloise? What does this mean for my family, if it is him?

As a tumultuous storm rages inside of me, Eloise looks up and sees me standing in the doorway.

She smiles. "Damon, come in!"

Why does she look so happy?

My legs trembling, I take a shaky step forward, going around the chaise and the man sitting on it to where Eloise sits. Taking a sharp, painful breath in, I turn to face the man and see –

A man I have never seen before.

Relief, confusion and apprehension flood me all at once. I take a seat next to Eloise.

The man has friendly brown eyes, teeth that are slightly crooked and a face that is beginning to weather with age. He smiles, revealing dimples in his cheeks.

"Welcome. I am Stuart Edenfield, I am attending all the homes in this village to inform and cordially invite everybody to the National Ball."

"The National Ball?" I echo.

"Yes. The Ball is held every ten years in different parishes, towns and villages across the nation. This decade, The National Ball will be held here. It is open invite, but only to the residents within Shrewsbury."

Ella claps. "Mummy, may we go? Please? I have never been to a ball before!"

Eloise chuckles and says, "Of course, dear. We will go."

"Here is your invite, Sir." Stuart hands me an envelope with the official seal of the National Ball. "Thank you for having me. I shall take your leave now."

"Thank you for the invite." I say.

As Stuart stands, Mary mirrors him and leads the way so that he may leave.

"Mummy, this is so exciting! Everybody will go to the ball, won't they?"

"I am sure they will, Ella."

"When is the Ball?" I ask, a number of thoughts swimming in my mind.

"It is in twelve days. That number will be just enough for the ladies in our village and the neighbouring ones to have dresses made by the seamstresses. Their business will boom as the ball approaches." Eloise says, her own eyes flicking from one thing to another. Thoughts are clearly flooding her mind, too.

"Leave the dresses to me. The village seamstresses will be overwhelmed with business from the local people – who knows if they will have the ability to sew your dresses well? I will send a messenger out tonight and call in a seamstress from my town. She makes all of my clothes – I trust her."

"Are you sure, Damon? I do not wish to be a burden. If the seamstresses here really do not have capacity for Ella and I, I could call Mother to send us her seamstress."

"Eloise, you could never be a burden on me. Besides, we should all wear matching outfits to the ball." I shrug.

"Yes, Mister Damon!" Ella shrieks, running into my arms. "We should match, me, Mummy and you! That would be so much fun!"

Eloise looks less thrilled. Her eyes meet mine, hesitant and murky. "Are you sure, Damon? Would it not draw a lot of attention? The people are already suspicious of you spending so much time around us and..."

"And nothing." I emphasise, holding Eloise's gaze with my own. "Is it necessary for me to remind you that I do not exactly live my life the way society would have me live it? I am asking you to wear co-ordinated outfits with me because that is what I would like. I take no notice of anybody else."

Eloise's gaze flashes to Ella and I can almost hear the thoughts racing in her mind. Reaching out, I take one of the hands she has clasped in her lap, giving it a tender squeeze.

"If it is Ella you are concerned about, then we will protect her. We will do that together."

Eloise sighs and bites her lip. Eventually, she nods. "Okay. We will go to the ball in coordinated clothes."

I grin and Ella squeals with delight, spinning around the room.

***

As I sit at the desk, poring over the most recent letter sent from my business partner, there is a knock at the door.

Standing, I make my way to the door and pull it open to reveal the owner's wife, Mrs Rawtenstall. She is a plump, red-cheeked, stout little woman who makes devastatingly delicious pies.

She smiles up at me in greeting, "Hello, Mr Wilcox. You have a visitor in the foyer – a Miss Lillian Thorpe?"

"Oh, yes. Is there anywhere private we may talk?" I step out of the room, locking it behind me.

"We have a conference room available. Would that suit your needs?" Mrs Rawtenstall leads the way to the lounge.

I straighten my necktie. "That would be perfect, thank you."

As we approach the foyer, a woman in her mid-forties stands to greet us. She has light brown hair swept back into a low bun, dark, calculating eyes and a thin mouth protected by deep smile lines on both sides.

As she sees me, her eyes shimmer with recognition and happiness. I mirror her expression, bowing as I stand before her and taking her hand, bringing it to my lips and brushing a kiss against her skin.

"Always a charmer, Damon!" Lillian titters. "I have missed you."

"I suppose our little town has become gloomy since my departure." I chuckle and allow Mrs Rawtenstall to lead the way to the conference room.

She leads us down a multitude of corridors to a room that is longer than it is wide, set up with clusters of round tables and mismatched chairs. They all are cushioned by a generous layer of dust. I suppose not a lot of people utilise this room. Lillian and I choose a table that appears to be the least affected by the dust, taking our seats opposite each other as Mrs Rawtenstall scurries away.

"It is not just gloomy, your partner in crime has made all of the worker's lives hell. He has them working from dawn to dusk. Do you know how many of those men stain their clothes with wines and beers on a daily basis? Their wives cannot deal with them at home, so I am the one stuck with all the work."

I grin. "Well, when you go home, you tell him to relax a little. He ordered me to leave for a vacation and is working the men harder than ever. Will we have to close up when I return so we do not have a riot on our hands?"

Lillian rolls her eyes. 

"He told you to come for a vacation but he does not know how to rest himself. I will tell him you send your regards. However, it looks as though you are enjoying your vacation!" She reaches out and pinches my cheek. "You have fattened up, Damon!"

"Hey!" I grumble, rubbing the sore spot. "Have I put on weight? To be truthful, Lillian, I have been eating very well since I got here."

Thinking of the food that is cooked daily by Mary and Eloise, I smile. How could I resist their cooking? How could I possibly resist food that I have longed for so often in the last six years? Their cooking is love, warmth, affection. It is the embodiment of home. I love eating, especially when I am able to sit opposite Eloise and watch her cheeks redden under my gaze. When she senses me watching her, her spoonfuls become smaller, as though she is trying to present herself well. I like that most of all – her coyness, how she is still affected in my presence.

"I have a feeling it is not just food you are enjoying here, Mr Damon Wilcox." Lillian's calculating eyes rove over me. "Is there a woman who has appeared in the picture?"

I fight the urge to tell her Eloise has not suddenly appeared, that she has been in the picture all along but instead, shoot a playful smirk in her direction. "My, aren't you curious?"

Lillian laughs, a musical sound. "When it comes to you, always. Now, you have not asked me to travel all this way for idle chit chat. What is it you need from me?"

"Yes, let us get to business. Have you heard of the National Ball?"

"Of course. It is held each decade, in a different parish. You will not know this, but some marvellous designs by equally marvellous designers have made their debut at the National Ball."

"It is going to be held here this decade and I need three matching outfits. A suit for myself, a dress for a woman and a dress for a child."

"Woman and child?" Lillian questions, looking at me through squinted eyes. "Damon, what woman? What child?"

"I am sure you have heard the saying, patience is a virtue. Contain yourself, my friend. If all goes well here, if I accomplish what I am here to do, then you will know of them very soon. All you need to know for now, is that they are two very special people for me. I want these dresses to convey that to them. I want love to be put in these dresses, I want them to be special and unique. I wish for them to be the perfect accessory to their beauty."

Lillian pats my arm. "You came to the right person."

She pulls out a thick pad full of drawings and together, we pore over the paper, discussing and debating various designs, fabrics, cuts. Lillian draws for me the latest trends that have been rippling through the nobility, what has been selling in London, what is being imported from the nearby nations.

I will have only the best for the two ladies in my life.

When we eventually agree on a design, both my own and Lillian's neck and back are aching. The time has escaped us whilst we have sat here, entranced and engrossed in our labour, the desire for perfection keeping our focus peaked. Now that we are done, the world seems to filter back in. The noon sun is streaming through the windows at the opposite end of the room, highlighting the dancing dust motes. The heat is beginning to press through, a layer of warmth caressing my face.

"These are everything I dreamed they would be, Lillian." I say, hopeful that my gratitude is conveyed through my words.

"I told you, you came to the right person." Lillian smirks.

I chuckle. "As always, you are most humble. Now that we have the designs, all we need are the measurements of those who will adorn them."

"Yes." Lillian says, rising to her feet. "Shall we?"

Together, we traipse across the village to Eloise's home. We do fetch some curious, questioning looks but Lillian acts as though she is just as oblivious as I pretend to be. As we approach the garden, I turn to face the seamstress.

"Lillian, please, this is very important to me. These dresses need to be perfect."

"They will be, Damon. Why do you worry so?"

"This is the first time in so long that I am doing something for this woman. I cannot afford any mistakes."

"Who is she?" Lillian asks, drawing closer to me.

"She is somebody special. To describe what she means to me is something I cannot put easily into words. She is like the rain that comes after a drought; she quenches all troubles, she showers everything with her love so that it may grow, like a mercy that has been sent down from a great power above."

"She is the woman who you have been trying to drown in alcohol and work for the last six years." Lillian states.

I meet her gaze, shocked. "What?"

"They tell me I am a rather intuitive lady. My intuition is usually correct. This time, it is telling me that the woman we have designed this dress for is the woman because of whom you came to our town, a shadow of a man, barely surviving the day using the crutch that alcohol gave you. Here, I have seen you at the healthiest and happiest and most passionate that I have ever seen you. Therefore, I am drawing the conclusion that this woman has a lot to do with your troubles and a lot to do with your happiness. I am drawing the conclusion that you love her."

Allowing myself to smile, I look down at Lillian. "Your conclusions are correct. Would you like to meet her, the woman who is the cause of my past troubles and my present happiness?"

"It would be my honour." Lillian smiles back.