“I assumed as much.”
He studied her for a moment, his gaze steady, unreadable. Eleanor felt, with a sudden and irrational clarity, that he was waiting.
Waiting for what, she did not know. Or perhaps she did, and did not wish to confirm it.
“Very well,” she said.
His brow creased faintly.
“If you require anything –”
“I will speak to Mrs. Hargreaves.”
“Yes.”
Silence pressed in again, heavier this time. Eleanor had the strange sensation of standing at the edge of something she was not permitted to name.
He inclined his head, courteous, distant. “I will see you this evening.”
She watched him go, her hands folded loosely in front of her, her expression composed.
It was only once his footsteps faded that she realized she had almost asked where.
The realization unsettled her more than the question itself.
She reminded herself of the rule. He had been clear. Questions about his movements were unnecessary. He had been polite about it, but the boundary had been unmistakable.
And she had agreed.
Agreement, she had learned, was easier than resistance.
Over the next several days, the pattern repeated.
James left early. Returned late. Sometimes he did not return until well after midnight. He did not seek her out when he did, though he never avoided her when chance brought them together.
At dinner, he was attentive but distracted.
“You prefer the trout?” he asked one evening.
“Yes.”
He nodded, then stared at his plate as though the answer had not entirely registered.
She did not ask where he had been.
She did not ask where he was going.
She did not ask why he sometimes returned with a faint scent of cold air and leather, as though he had ridden farther than necessity required.
Instead, she learned the estate.
She walked the gardens with Mrs. Hargreaves. Learned which paths flooded after rain, which trees were oldest, which servants had been at Blackmere since James’s childhood. She read in the afternoons, wrote letters she did not send, and practiced the pianoforte when the house felt too still.
One afternoon, she was descending the front steps when she saw him in the drive.
James stood beside a horse already saddled, his glove halfway on, Thomas handing him a sealed letter.
Eleanor stopped.
