"That seems excessive."
"My father believed in discipline." Aubrey's voice held no resentment. "He wanted me to be perfect. To never make mistakes. To be exactly what an Earl's heir should be."
"Did you rebel?"
Aubrey nodded. "I did when I became old enough to stand up for myself. I took every chance to choose something for myself instead of having it chosen for me. Turns out I chose poorly." He looked at her pointedly. “I should have known my parents would choose the perfect woman for me.”
Eleanor looked away first, colour flooding her cheeks. They ate in silence until Aubrey broke it.
"You have a dear friend in Steven Kedleston." The words came out sharper than Aubrey intended, edged with something he refused to acknowledge as jealousy.
Eleanor's eyebrows rose. "I do."
"He's been a good friend to you. Better than I've been a husband."
"Yes." Eleanor's voice was matter of fact. "Steven has been kind and supportive and everything a friend should be."
"Just a friend?" The question escaped before Aubrey could stop it.
"What else would he be?" Eleanor's tone was pleasant, but something flickered in her eyes—amusement, perhaps, or annoyance.
"He loves you." Aubrey forced himself to say it. "He told me himself. He would have married you if you'd let him."
"Yes." Eleanor met his gaze steadily. "He would have. And my life would have been much easier if I'd said yes."
Her words, because they were true, left him feeling bitter. "But you didn't."
"No." Something sad crossed Eleanor's face. "I couldn't. Because I was foolish enough to love someone else. Someone who I didn't know didn’t want me."
Past tense. Was foolish enough. Not am.
"Eleanor—"
"It's gettinglate," she said, standing abruptly. "I should—"
"Wait." Aubrey reached out instinctively, then stopped himself. "Please. I have something for you. A gift. Or rather... several gifts."
Eleanor froze. "My lord, you've already given me too much. The lady's maid, the gowns—"
"This is different." Aubrey felt his heart hammering now. "These are things you should have had years ago. Things you deserved but couldn't have. I—" He stopped, gathering courage. "I want to give them to you now. If you'll let me."
Eleanor's expression was wary. "What sort of things?"
"Come here." Aubrey patted the bed beside him. "They're hidden under the counterpane. You'll need to come closer to see them properly."
He watched her hesitate, saw the war in her expression between curiosity and self-preservation. Finally, curiosity won.
Eleanor moved to the edge of the bed, her movements cautious. "Where?"
"Here." Aubrey pulled back the blanket beside him, just a little to tease.
Then, as Eleanor took a deep breath, he pulled back the cover completely.
And watched Eleanor's face transform.
Spread across the bed were treasures from her childhood. The things Liz had mentioned. The things Eleanor had wanted but never had.
A porcelain doll with dark hair and a silk dress. "You told Liz you wanted one like this when you were eight," Aubrey said quietly. "But there wasn't money for such frivolities."
