Mrs. Hargreaves entered, her expression composed. “Your Grace. Lady Arabella has arrived.”
Eleanor’s heart lifted and sank at once. Relief, then shame at needing it.
“Send her in,” Eleanor said quickly. “And please tell Pritchard that I do not wish to receive callers this afternoon.”
Mrs. Hargreaves paused. “Are you unwell?”
Eleanor held her gaze. “Not physically.”
Mrs. Hargreaves nodded once, as if that answer was all she required. “Very good, Your Grace.”
A moment later Arabella swept into the room, cloak still on, cheeks pink from the cold. Her eyes searched Eleanor’s face with immediate precision.
“Oh,” Arabella said, stopping short. “You look dreadful.”
Eleanor gave a short laugh. “Thank you.”
Arabella crossed the room and took Eleanor’s hands without asking. “How long has he been gone?”
Eleanor tried to keep her voice steady. “Three days.”
“And he has not written?”
“No.”
Arabella’s jaw tightened. “Unforgivable.”
Eleanor pulled her hands free gently and gestured toward the settee. “Sit. Please.”
Arabella sat, but it was the tense sitting of someone prepared to stand again at a moment’s notice. She glanced around the room. “You have done something different with the curtains?”
Eleanor blinked, surprised by the observation. “Mrs. Hargreaves suggested the change after the ball. She said the light felt too formal.”
Arabella hummed. “It does feel softer.”
“I did not notice,” Eleanor admitted.
Arabella smiled faintly. “You rarely do.”
Eleanor huffed quietly. “You always did.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the kind that carried familiarity rather than weight.
“Well, Charlotte,” Arabella said at last. “Is insufferable as always.”
Eleanor laughed despite herself. “What happened this time? Has she recovered from being asked to leave the ball?”
“She is telling everyone she was quite ill, and that your Duke merely helped cover for her so she could go back home.”
“And people are believing her?”
“Well, you and James are not out dispelling the tale, so yes.”
Eleanor shifted, careful not to show how upset she was that her husband was not with them.
Arabella continued without missing a beat, “She awoke this morning with opinions about everything,” Arabella continued. “The servants. The furniture. My choice of shoes.”
Eleanor shook her head. “I remember those tirades, remember that one time she told me that my hair made me look unambitious.”
