She lifted her cup, then lowered it again. “I do not wish to argue.”
“Neither do I.”
Her lips curved faintly. “That is also unexpected.”
He huffed quietly. “You are enjoying this.”
“A little,” Eleanor admitted. “It is not often I find myself in a position of advantage.”
James met her gaze. “Then use it.”
Her eyes brightened. “Very well.”
She set her cup aside. “I am willing to forgive you.”
Relief surged through him, swift and profound. “Thank you.”
“On one condition,” she added.
He nodded. “Of course.”
“You will tell me,” Eleanor said, her voice steady but intent, “why you made those rules.”
James’s breath caught.
“The ones about your absences,” she continued. “About your work. About my questions.”
He hesitated.
She smiled knowingly. “Ah. There it is.”
He exhaled slowly. “You asked for honesty.”
“And you promised it,” she replied.
He studied her face. She was not demanding. She was not accusing. She was simply waiting.
“Very well,” James said.
James leaned back against the counter, considering his words.
“You expected me to hesitate,” Eleanor said lightly.
“I did,” he admitted.
“And yet you are smiling,” she observed.
He could not help it. “I find myself enjoying the role of penitent less than I thought.”
She stepped closer. “Then speak.”
“I am looking for something,” James said.
Her brows lifted. “Something.”
“Yes,” he replied. “Information. Proof. A truth I cannot yet name aloud.”
“That is why you leave,” Eleanor said slowly.
