"You could have." Steven set down his cup with more force than necessary. "You should have. Let his parents tend him, or hire nurses, or—"
"His parents have washed their hands of him until we... sort ourselves out." Eleanor sighed deeply. "So here we are. Playing at being husband and wife for the first time in our marriage."
Steven studied her face, his expression troubled. "How are you bearing it? Truly?"
"I am managing." Eleanor took a sip of tea to avoid his eyes. "It is only temporary. After Christmas, he will return to London, and I..." she looked down at her hands, "I am leaving for St. Catherine's Orphanage on the twenty-sixth. I have accepted a position there."
"Leaving?" Steven sat forward. "Permanently?"
"Yes."
"Ellie, you cannot… Why? Because of your marriage?"
"Partly." Eleanor set down her cup. "Miss Penny is gravely ill and needs someone to take charge. At least at St. Catherine's, I can be useful. I can be surrounded by children, even if they are not my own."
Steven was quiet for a moment. Then: "I am sorry about Miss Penny. I know you are very fond of her, but you are much too young to be giving up on your future.”
“What future?”
“You could divorce him."
Eleanor stared at him. "Do not be absurd."
"I am perfectlyserious." Steven's voice was calm, measured. "I know it would be difficult and the scandal considerable, but you have grounds—non-consummation, abandonment, surely. Cruelty, even, if one counts public humiliation."
"You know it’s nearly impossible to obtain a divorce, and even if I could, I dread how much time, energy, and money would be wasted."
"Marry me instead."
The words hung in the air between them.
Eleanor laughed. A shocked, incredulous sound. "You are joking."
"I am not." Steven's face was entirely serious. "You should have married me, Ellie. We both know it."
"We..." Eleanor shook her head, completely at a loss. "We have known each other since we were children. We are friends. I could never see you as… We are practically siblings!"
"I know." Steven's smile was sad. "You have never looked at me that way. And I have always known it. But Ellie, I could have made you happy. Or at least, happier than this." He gestured vaguely at the house, at the situation.
"No." Eleanor stood abruptly, moving to the window. "I am done with marriage, Steven. Done with men. I cannot have children of my own since my husband doesn’t want me—that much is clear—but I can be surrounded by them at St. Catherine's. I can make a difference in their lives. That is enough."
"Is it truly enough, Ellie? To give up entirely on your own happiness?" Steven's voice was gentle.
Eleanor pressed her forehead against the cold glass. "I… I still want to remain his wife."
Steven sighed. "He does not deserve your devotion. I am going upstairs to give him a piece of my mind—"
"You will do no such thing." Eleanor turned, her voice sharp. "Steven, I forbid it. Whatever lies between my husband and me is not your concern."
"You are my concern. You have always been my concern." Steven's hands clenched into fists. "To see you like this—exhausted, worn down, nursing a man who has treated you abominably—"
"It’s my choice," Eleanor finished. "My duty. My marriage, however broken it may be." She softened her tone. "I appreciate your concern, Steven. Truly. But you cannot fight this battle for me."
Steven looked like he wanted to argue, but something in her expression stopped him. He took a breath, visibly forcing himself to calm.
"Very well. But I am not leaving you to spend the evening serving the man." His tone became determinedly cheerful. "Come to dinner tonight. Julie and Sarah would love to see you, and Cook is making that roasted duck you love. A few hours away from this... situation... would do you good."
Eleanor hesitated. "I would need to return by midnight."
