"I will make certain of it."
The offer was too tempting to refuse. A few hours away from this house, from the constant tension, from the suffocating silence. A few hours to pretend she was simply Eleanor, dining with old friends, maybe even laughing.
"Yes," she said finally. "Yes, thank you. I would like that very much."
Steven's smile brightened. "Excellent. I shall expect you by eight."
After he left, Eleanor stood in the morning room gathering her courage, then climbed the stairs to Aubrey's bedroom.
He was awake, propped against pillows, staring at nothing. He turned his head when she entered, his expression wary.
"I came to inform you that I shall be out this evening," Eleanor said, keeping her tone professional. "I’m dining with the Kedleston family. But I shall return before midnight."
Aubrey's expression darkened. "The Kedleston family."
"Yes. Our neighbours. I mean your neighbours, but I have known them since childhood."
"Steven Kedleston." His voice had dipped lower.
"Yes."
"The unmarried Steven Kedleston."
Eleanor blinked. "I... yes, he is unmarried. What of it?"
"You are dining at a bachelor's home. Alone." Aubrey's voice was tight. "That is hardly appropriate for a married woman."
For a moment, Eleanor could only stare at him. Then she laughed—a sharp, incredulous sound.
"I beg your pardon?" Her voice shook with something between fury and disbelief. "You—you, who have lived in London and have attended every party and ball and dinner without a thought to your wife, you are concerned about my propriety?"
"That is different."
"How? How is it different?" Eleanor moved closer to the bed, her hands clenched at her sides. "You have lived as though I do not exist. Dining with whomever you please, wherever you please. And I am quite certain those dinners included women, even while you were pining for your lost love."
Aubrey's face hardened. "Yes, but none of those women were my lovers."
His statement shocked her into silence. "I beg your pardon?" she asked finally.
His gaze met hers directly. "Steven Kedleston. There has been a rumour that you two have been lovers for a long time. Are you still carrying on?"
She opened her mouth then closed it again. "Who? Who is spreading these ridiculous claims? We have never…" Eleanor shook her head. “We have never acted improperly. There has never been any romantic notion on my part.”
“You would say that. Even if that was true, I’m sure he feels differently.”
She schooled her features into a hard line. "I fail to see how that is any of your business anyway." Eleanor's voice had risen despite her best efforts. "Steven Kedleston is a decent man which I cannot say the same for you. He’s been my dearest friend since I was six years old. That’s all you need to know."
Aubrey's eyes narrowed. "Does he harbour romantic feelings for you?"
"What Steven Kedleston feels or does not feel is irrelevant. I have never betrayed my vows, never—" She stopped, breathing hard. "Unlike some people in this marriage."
“Nevertheless—”
"Nevertheless nothing." Eleanor’s fingers dug into her skirts. "You have no right—none whatsoever—to comment on my behaviour. Not after what you have put me through."
A vein pulsed at his temple. "I am still your husband."
"Yes. You are." Eleanor's voice dropped, becoming dangerously quiet. "A fact you have conveniently remembered only now that you require my care. How fortunate for you."
