Eleanor’s shoulders sagged. “He hit her. He hit her so hard.”
James’s jaw clenched. “I know.”
Eleanor looked at him, really looked at him, and the sight of him there, alive and solid and real, shattered whatever restraint she had left.
“He was here,” she said, her voice breaking. “He was going to kill us.”
James pulled her into him, careful not to disturb Arabella as he wrapped one arm around Eleanor’s shoulders.
“I am here now,” he said firmly. “You are safe.”
Eleanor shook her head, sobbing. “I thought… I thought we were going to die.”
James tightened his hold. “Not under my roof.”
She clutched at his coat, fingers digging in as if he might disappear again if she loosened her grip. Her body began to shake, the delayed terror crashing through her all at once.
“I screamed for you, for anyone,” Eleanor said, words tumbling out between sobs. “Arabella woke up. She fought him. She fought so hard.”
James’s voice softened. “I know, my dear.”
“I could not protect her,” Eleanor cried. “I tried.”
James pressed his forehead to hers. “You did protect her. You both did so well.”
Servants’ voices echoed faintly in the corridor now. Footsteps approached, hurried and frightened.
James did not let go of Eleanor.
“Everything is going to be all right,” he said again, steady and absolute. “I promise you.”
Eleanor laughed weakly through her tears. “You promised that before.”
“I know,” James replied. “And I will not break it again.”
Mrs. Hargreaves burst into the room, pale and horrified. “Your Grace. Oh my God.”
“Fetch the physician,” James said without looking up. “Now!”
“Yes,” she said, already retreating.
Mr. Pritchard appeared again moments later, his face ashen. “The constables are en route. What happened, Your Grace?”
“We will discuss it later,” James said. “Secure the house.”
Eleanor barely registered them. Her world had narrowed to James’s arms and Arabella’s unsteady breathing.
James shifted carefully, lifting Arabella with practiced ease. “We need to move her to the bed.”
Eleanor nodded numbly and helped where she could, her hands reluctant to let go.
Once Arabella was settled, James turned back to Eleanor.
She stood there, suddenly unmoored, her knees threatening to give way now that she no longer had her sister to anchor her.
James caught her before she fell.
She pressed her face into his chest and cried, the sound raw and unrestrained. All the fear she had swallowed over days and weeks poured out of her at once.
