A tall figure stepped into the candlelight.
James.
He emerged from the shadow like a man arriving precisely when he intended to be seen. He wore black, severe and immaculate, with a cravat tied so perfectly it looked like a weapon. His gaze swept the room, then fixed on Eleanor.
Something in her chest tightened, swift and humiliating.
He began to cross the hall toward her.
Lady Whitcombe’s posture shifted subtly. Not a flinch, but an imperceptible tightening along the corners of her eyes and lips, as though she had felt his presence like a change in weather.
Her eyes moved toward him.
James’s gaze met hers for a fraction of a moment.
Eleanor felt the air between them sharpen.
Lady Whitcombe turned back to Eleanor with a smile that did not reach her eyes. “Your Grace,” she said softly, “you must forgive me. I have promised another acquaintance a word before the music begins.”
“Of course,” Eleanor replied, though her instincts screamed.
Lady Whitcombe dipped again and slipped away into the crowd just as James reached the receiving line.
Eleanor watched her go, then turned to her husband.
James’s expression was controlled, but something in his eyes was taut.
“Your Grace,” he said, and took Eleanor’s gloved hand.
He lifted it, not quite to his lips, not here, not in public, but enough that his thumb brushed lightly against her knuckles.
It was the smallest gesture.
It nearly undid her.
“James,” she murmured.
His gaze held hers, intent and unreadable. “You look…”
He stopped.
Eleanor’s heart stuttered. “Yes.”
His jaw tightened as though he had nearly said something he did not wish to.
“You are… appropriately dressed,” he said at last.
Eleanor’s smile did not waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly. “How generous of you.”
A flicker of amusement quickly passed across his face before he suppressed it just as quickly.
Before Eleanor could attempt to ask about Lady Whitcombe, about that glance, about the tension that had slipped through the air like a blade Norman stepped in.
“Your Grace,” Norman said loudly, “allow me to reintroduce you properly to my eldest, Miss Charlotte Barker.”
Eleanor felt her spine stiffen.
Charlotte stepped forward as if the hall belonged to her.
