Eleanor told herself she did not care.
The carriage turned.
Not sharply, but enough that Eleanor noticed the change in the angle of the light through the window.
She frowned slightly and leaned forward, peering out. “This is not the north road.”
James looked up from where he had been staring absently at the opposite wall. “No.”
Her fingers tightened in her lap. “Are we traveling all the way to Ashbourne Hall?”
His mouth curved faintly. “Good God, no.”
She blinked. “No?”
“Ashbourne is in the Lake District,” he said. “It would take days. I had no intention of dragging you halfway across England immediately after a wedding.”
“Oh,” she said, then winced inwardly at how much relief had slipped into that single syllable.
James’s gaze sharpened. “What were you thinking?”
Heat rose swiftly to her cheeks.
“Nothing,” she said too quickly.
“Nothing,” he repeated, unconvinced.
Eleanor drew a breath. “I was thinking about the journey. The weather. The horses.” She gestured vaguely. “Practicalities.”
His eyes held hers for a moment longer than necessary. “You are a terrible liar.”
Her pulse jumped. “I am not lying.”
“You are deflecting.”
She lifted her chin. “You did not answer my question fully.”
He arched a brow. “I did.”
“You said Ashbourne Hall is not where we are going,” she countered. “You did not say where wearegoing.”
A pause, then he sighed, “Blackmere Park.”
She nodded, relieved to have something solid to focus on. “I have never been there.”
“It is closer,” he said. “Suitable for now.”
“For now,” she echoed.
The carriage fell quiet again, but it was no longer empty silence. It stretched and shifted, alive with unspoken things.
When the carriage slowed at last, Eleanor looked out and her breath catch despite herself.
Blackmere Park rose ahead of them, broad and imposing, its stone façade dark against the winter sky. It was not as vast as Ashbourne might be – she had imagined something colossal and remote – but it was undeniably grand. The drive curved through bare trees and iron gates that closed behind them with a finality that made her spine tingle.
Servants waited in a neat line at the front steps.
James exited first, turning back to offer his hand. Eleanor took it, her fingers fitting into his with a familiarity that startled her.
