Jane looked up at the sound of his footsteps, and the expression on her face cut through him as cleanly as a blade. There was no surprise in her eyes, so she must’ve been expecting him. But no joy either.
He’d hoped she would be glad. When he’d imagined this moment—as he often had those many months in his lurching bunk or while on watch, with nothing but his thoughts for company—she’d always been happy.
Of all the disappointments his return to England had brought him so far, this was the worst.
“Hello,” he managed. His voice was pitched low, but it seemed too loud for the stillness of the room.
He finally realized that there was another lady with them, sitting on the love seat. He hadn’t even noticed her.
“Forgive me,” he said quickly. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I didn’t intend to surprise you.”
He’d meant the explanation to reassure the young woman that he was no threat to her reputation, but upon closer inspection, she didn’t seem worried in the least.
“Cordelia Danby.” She inclined her head gracefully.
With a speaking look to Jane, she rose to her feet. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”
Jane raised a hand, as if to call her friend back, then let it fall without voicing her objection. She acted as though she had reason to be wary of him. What had he done to deserve that? They’d often stolen time alone on her uncle’s estate or his parents’ adjacent property, and he’d never abused her trust. They’d been at ease in each other’s company.
Before he went to sea. Before Cecily.
And now she was standing four feet away, rigid and remote, as though to move one inch closer would bring certain doom. She still hadn’t said a word, though she’d had more than enough time to compose a response to his greeting.
What had he expected? That Jane would throw herself into his arms?
Actually, yes, Eli realized with keen discomfort.I was hoping for that.
He took a deep breath, and found the air tinged with her scent. Light and sweet, with faint notes of lilac. The same as always.
“I hope you aren’t so silent because you’re overcome with shock,” he tried. “I don’t have any smelling salts.”
He’d thrown the words out in jest, to break this unbearable tension and pry open a window into Jane’s thoughts. But she merely replied, “I don’t faint.”
Of course she didn’t. One arch of her brow left him feeling utterly foolish.
“I’ve offended you.” If levity wasn’t getting him anywhere, Eli would try being forthright. “My apologies.”
He wished she would give him some hint of how they were supposed to act. At least when his parents were quarreling, or Hannah had been hurt by some childish disappointment, he always knew the words to set things right. He hated being suspended this way, unsure of the path forward.
“Why should I be offended?” she asked mildly, in a voice that spoke of complete indifference. It was worse than anger somehow. “I’m very happy to learn you’re alive. It’s remarkable; everyone says so. Welcome back.”
She fixed him with a look from those cool, gray eyes that seemed to lower the temperature of the air. He almost expected his breath to fog. “I wish you would speak to me plainly,” Eli insisted. “You never stood on ceremony before.”
Jane was always direct. It was one of the things he admired about her. She never hesitated to speak her mind or worried what others thought. He sometimes envied her ability to separate her own wishes from the obligations others imposed—a skill he’d never mastered.
“Perhaps I should have,” she said. “Our acquaintance was inappropriate for two unmarried persons, particularly once you were engaged.” She smoothed down her skirt and looked to the door, as if preparing to leave already. “In fact, it’s inappropriate for us to be alone like this. We should go back to the party before Cecily misses us.”
Cecily. Was she still angry about his engagement, five years later? He had only himself to blame, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept this punishment.
“Jane, look at me,” he commanded.
She obliged, though her gaze was less steady than it had been a moment before. He studied the liquid whorls and flecks of her irises, searching for…something. A trace of understanding.
“I’m not engaged to her any longer,” he said. “There’s nothing between us.”
“Yes, I’d gathered. You have my sympathies.”
“Oh, for—” Eli bit back the rest of his retort, wishing he could remain as cool as Jane. “I was eighteen. I made an impetuous decision. Can’t you forgive me for that?”
