Aubrey lay in the darkness, his hip throbbing, his mind churning.
The thought sat heavy in his chest as the sun rose and Morrison crept back in with a tea tray, still looking mortified by his spectacular failure.
"My lord, I am profoundly sorry…"
"It's fine, Morrison." Aubrey accepted the teacup. "You're better with cravats than with injured viscounts. We all have ourstrengths."
"My lady was quite fierce." Morrison shuddered. "I've never seen a lady move so quickly. Or shove quite so effectively."
Despite everything, Aubrey found himself almost smiling with pride.
"Yes," he said quietly. "She was, wasn't she?"
Chapter seven
Steven Kedleston
Eleanor was reviewing household accounts in the morning room when Mr Davies announced a visitor.
"Mr Steven Kedleston, my lady."
She looked up in surprise, then pleasure. "Steven? Show him in at once."
Steven entered with his characteristic easy grace—tall, fair-haired, with the kind of pleasant, open face that inspired instant trust. Their families had been closest friends since their childhood, spending holidays and summers together, their nurseries practically shared.
"Ellie." He crossed the room and took both her hands in his, studying her face with concern. "You look exhausted."
"How gallant of you to say so." But Eleanor smiled, genuinely pleased to see him. "What brings you to Willowbrook? I thought you were in London until Christmas."
"I was. But Mother sent an urgent summons in London. Apparently, she's arranged for me to meet no fewer than three eligible young ladies over the next fortnight." Steven grimaced. "The Haversham girl, Lady CeciliaWorthing, and some niece of the Duke of Avon. I'm fleeing to the family estate for sanctuary."
"And stopped here on your way?" Eleanor gestured for him to sit. "Tea?"
"Please." Steven settled into the chair across from her, his expression growing more serious. "Actually, I came specifically to see you. I heard... that is, there are rumours about your husband."
Eleanor's hands stilled on the teapot. "What sort of rumours?"
"That he was injured. Thrown from his horse in Hyde Park several days ago. Some are saying it was quite serious." Steven leaned forward. "Ellie, is it true?"
She poured the tea with careful precision, buying herself time. "Yes. It is true."
"Is he all right?"
"He will recover. Eventually." Eleanor handed Steven his cup. "Severe bruising. Nothing broken, but... he requires nursing care. Constant attention."
Steven's eyebrows rose. "And where is he convalescing? Not his townhouse, surely?"
"Here." The word came out flat. "His parents brought him here three days ago. He is upstairs."
The silence that followed was profound.
"He ishere," Steven repeated slowly. "The husband who has not set foot in this house for two years. Who has publicly ignored you at every social function. Who left you alone to face the pity and gossip of the entire county." His voice was rising. "That husband is now residing under your roof, requiring your care?"
"Yes."
"And you agreed to this?"
Eleanor met his eyes steadily. "I had little choice. He is my husband, Steven. In the eyes of the law, the church, society. I could not turn him away."
