Chapter Text
Cressida's life had always been cold.
Her upbringing was lonely. The Cowpers were the stern and icey sort, held together but the term 'family' so loosely that blood seemed to be the only connection they had.
Cressida was used to this existence, the thick tension in any room in which all of them were present. Her parents had a strained relationship at best, worsened by her mother's inability to produce a male heir. Any efforts in that department had long since ceased, and thus from a young age Cressida was ingrained with the knowledge that her sole purpose all hinged on finding a husband to continue the family's legacy.
This was a duty her mother took incredibly seriously, as after all, the way Cressida was to marry had direct impact on their family's social standing. She would not stand for humiliation, both from society and from her husband. She was a woman who ensured her daughter wore the most fashionable gown and shone as brightly as possible, no matter what... liberties were necessary in taking to reach that path.
This was why Cressida never got visitors. Her mother had taught her any other women were direct competition, and therefore she did not require any friends. Friends are like tools, to use until they can be discarded, and in the circles Cressida surrounded herself in, she knew other girls thought similarly. Who laughs at you if you are the one laughing first? Who embarrasses you when you are the one to humiliate others?
Cressida tried to tell herself she didn't need friends. Not proper ones anyway.
Not until she met Eloise.
Eloise was just... different.
Refreshingly candid in the best way, witty and quick on her feet, intelligent and more carefree than Cressida could have ever dreamed to be. Cressida was jealous of her, how she was surrounded by family that evidently loved and cared. How Eloise passionately believed that perhaps one day, things could change for women, that perhaps she really didn't need to marry. So when over the summer Eloise approached her, she was more shocked than anything.
It was at a garden party on the Cowpers summer estate. Members of the ton had been extended invertations, and being in the area Eloise and her mother Violet Bridgerton were in attendance. Seeking to have a moment alone from her mothers heavy eyes and the suffocating pressure to adhere to any lackluster match making, Cressida had separated herself from the party to recompose herself overlooking the family's lake. She gazed out upon the water, at how the beginnings of an orange glow were starting to play against the surface and let the evening breeze wash against her cheek, waiting until her breathing became regular once more.
So preoccupied was she in her solitude, that the sudden voice beside her was startling.
"Miss Cowper, how lovely to see you are engaging with your own party," Eloise Bridgerton stood beside her, the hint of a smile on the lips.
"I merely seek a moment to admire the evening," Cressida replied, trying to regain her composure.
Eloise shot her a quick glance before averting her eyes towards the lake.
"Likewise."
They stood in silence for a minute. Then, feeling a little awkward and confused as to why Eloise had approached her, Cressida tried to spark up some kind of conversation.
"So... where is the Featherington girl today? Are you not always together?"
At this mention Eloise stiffened ever so slightly. When she replied it was with a mesured tone, as though rehearsed. "I no longer associate in Miss Featherton's company. It appears we have less in common than I once thought."
Now Cressida was really looking at Eloise, she could tell something had changed. She looked paler, more pinched and reserved. Despite this, she also looked very pretty. Cressida tried not to think about that.
"Well whatever happened for her to loose your friendship, I am certain it is her loss," Cressida said, and Eloise gave a small smile. Then, with a rare moment of courage and compassion, Cressida continued, "say, how about you join me for tea tomorrow afternoon? I personally can recommend that a freshly prepared carrot cake has a wonderful property of allowing one to forget any troubles."
For a moment, Eloise looked a little surprised as she considered this proposal.
"You know what... I can not refuse a carrot cake. So it was tomorrow at...?"
"Three thirty."
"Lovely, see you then," and with that Eloise turned and made her leave, giving Cressida a light squeeze on the arm as she did so.
And Cressida was left wondering how an earth that happened and why, minutes later, she could still feel the ghost of Eloise's fingers on her arm where she had touched her.
~~
The ensuing summer was remarkably one of the best Cressida had ever had. Finally she had a real friend, a confidant, someone who spoke their opinion plainly and could see the world for what it was. It was refreshing and exhilarating, and finally Cressida was starting to believe that she was worth something. That her opinion mattered and someone might see her not as just a bride, but as a person. She placed immense value in Eloise's friendship and that was not something she would jeapodise over gossip. In her third season, after suffering misfortune after misfortune, Eloise became the one good thing to look forward to.
She began to become more aware of Eloise, where she was in a room, to whom she was conversing with, the absence she felt everytime Eloise excused herself from a conversation. She gave fashion tips and advice, and could hardly look away the next time she saw Eloise and realised she had implemented them. In a way Cressida was grateful that Eloise had not shown romantic interest in anyone this season as it meant that Cressida got her all her attention and knowledgeable wingwoman aid to herself. At least that's what Cressida told herself.
In truth, when Eloise showed up in her living room to call on her, Cressida had never had her heart feel so full.
Not from any prior suitor, not even Lord Debling.
When Eloise slides their arms together, or brushes her shoulder, or laughs brightly, warm light on her face, shining in her eyes, Cressida feels it in her chest. Because that is the joy of a close friendship, is it not?
To live with every moment craving her presence and company and touch, that is true friendship is it not?
Is it not?