“I did not intend it,” Eleanor said quickly, as if that absolved her. “I never thought he would be kind. And then he was, in small ways. I never thought he would want me, and then he did. And then he left again as if none of it mattered.”
Arabella reached across the space and took Eleanor’s hand. “It mattered.”
Eleanor let out a shaky breath. “How do you know?”
“Because you are not foolish,” Arabella said. “You do not imagine tenderness where there is none.”
Eleanor looked up. “I feel foolish.”
Arabella squeezed her fingers. “You feel human.”
Eleanor swallowed. “I cannot bear it.”
Arabella’s expression hardened. “Then you do not bear it alone.”
Eleanor blinked. “Arabella.”
“I am staying tonight,” Arabella said, decisive. “And if you object, I will ignore you.”
Eleanor let out a weak laugh. “You cannot simply decide that.”
Arabella lifted her chin. “I can and I have.”
Eleanor’s eyes stung. “Thank you.”
Arabella’s mouth softened. “Of course.”
They spent the afternoon in the way Eleanor had not allowed herself to in years. Not managing. Not arranging. Not hosting.
Talking.
Arabella asked questions Eleanor had avoided. About the ball. About the confrontation. About the attic. About what it felt like to be kissed and then dismissed.
Eleanor answered some. Skirted others. But she spoke more than she had since James left, and each sentence made the air feel less suffocating.
By evening, Arabella insisted they dine privately.
“I do not want a dining room full of empty chairs,” Arabella said.
Eleanor could not argue with that.
They took supper in Eleanor’s sitting room, the tray placed near the fire, candles burning low. Arabella removed the pins from her hair and let it fall down her back.
“You look like you did when we were girls,” Eleanor said softly.
Arabella smiled. “I feel like one. This house is enormous. It swallows sound.”
Eleanor’s throat tightened. “It swallows everything.”
Arabella’s gaze met hers. “Not tonight.”
Later, when Eleanor prepared for bed, Arabella slipped into the adjoining chamber, then returned in her night rail as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“You are truly staying in my room,” Eleanor said.
Arabella climbed onto the bed without hesitation. “We did it a thousand times when we were children. You used to insist you slept better when I was there.”
Eleanor’s chest tightened. “I did.”
