Caldwell’s mouth opened. Closed.
The constable gave a curt nod to his men, and Caldwell was pulled away.
Eleanor felt James’s hand brush her elbow, steadying her as they stepped into the entry hall.
Inside, the air was thick with raised voices and the sharp scent of cold air that had been dragged in with them. Servants hovered at the edges, pale and frightened, hands clasped tightly as if they could hold themselves together through discipline alone.
Eleanor’s eyes swept the scene and landed on Arabella.
Her sister stood near the foot of the stairs, wrapped in a warm shawl, her bruised temple still faintly visible but her posture upright, alert, and very much awake. Beside her stood Aunt Frances, composed as ever, her expression grimly satisfied.
Arabella’s face brightened the moment she saw Eleanor.
“You missed it,” Arabella announced.
Eleanor blinked. “Missed what?”
Arabella grinned. “Everything.”
Aunt Frances stepped forward, her voice calm. “You returned at an excellent time. The worst of it is already done.”
James’s gaze flicked around. “Where is Roderick?”
Arabella’s grin widened. “Oh, he is here.”
James frowned. “Where?”
Arabella pointed upward. “Upstairs. Trying not to die.”
Eleanor stared. “Trying not to die?”
Aunt Frances’s mouth twitched. “In a manner of speaking.”
A loud voice echoed from the staircase.
“This is torture.”
Eleanor’s head snapped up.
Roderick appeared at the top of the stairs, one hand gripping the railing, the other holding his side as though he had been stabbed.
He was wearing one of Eleanor’s day dresses.
Not a plain one. One that had been tailored precisely to Eleanor’s figure, with a fitted bodice and a high neckline, the sort that made breathing a conscious choice.
The sight was so absurd that Eleanor forgot, for one stunned heartbeat, that her home had been violated.
Roderick took one step downward and nearly tripped.
Arabella clapped her hands softly. “Careful, Duchess.”
Roderick shot her a murderous look. “Do not call me that.”
Arabella’s eyes sparkled. “But you wear it so well.”
James stared at his cousin as though the world had gone mad. “Roderick?”
Roderick huffed. “Yes. It is me. Do not stare. I can barely breathe.”
