“Of course.” He frowned. “It’s in experienced hands.”
“That’s good. She’s worried about it. I’d like to be able to set her mind at ease.”
James let out a long, slow exhale, smiling slightly. “She’s always worried about it, but she needn’t be. It’s not her concern.”
“She truly cares about the estate,” I countered easily. “That’s why she worries about it. Whether or not she needs to.”
“That’s true, but I can assure you that it will be well managed in her absence,” he said. “We have a good team there. They’ll take care of it.”
I nodded and took a sip of the scotch, surprised by how smooth it was. Clearly, it was expensive. For a guy who had such a costly estate to maintain, he sure liked the good stuff. It made me wonder why Eliza had to work so hard to cover all those expenses while he did whatever it was he did here in London and could afford to drink like this, but I didn’t ask.
“About the wedding,” I said instead, moving to the final item on my mental agenda. “I’ve heard you want to have it here in the city.”
“Yes?”
“I think it should be at the estate.”
James leaned back slightly. Surprise registered on his features as he blinked a few times in rapid succession. “That would be unconventional. London offers certain social advantages that would be impossible to replicate at the castle.”
“Sure, but I don’t care about social advantages.”
He paused for a beat. “The location alone would make press coverage difficult. That’s not to mention the logistics surrounding accommodating the entire guest list.”
“Yeah, I don’t care about any of that either.”
James took another sip of his drink and swallowed before he finally spoke again. “What exactly do you care about, then, Jesse?”
I shrugged. “The only thing that’s important to me is what Eliza wants.”
The words were simple but honest. Jesse was going to kill me for this too, but I was dangerously close to just not giving a fuck anymore. If he’d wanted a say, he should’ve been here, but he wasn’t, so that meant I could handle this however I wanted.
James didn’t respond for a long minute, and suspiciously, it kind of looked like he was fighting a smile, but then he nodded. “I’ll consider it.”
I leaned back.In that case, my work here is done.
“Aaron brought me something to eat before we left the estate,” I said, then finished the scotch and set the glass aside. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course.”
Without offering to stay while he ate, I left the dining room and asked a passing footman which room Eliza had taken. It still took me a while to find it, even with directions. It seemed the Rodericks had an affinity for houses with more rooms than some hotels, but eventually, I found the right door.
It stood slightly open, but I still rapped my knuckles lightly across the wood before I stepped inside. “Knock. Knock.”
Eliza stood near the window, not turning as I walked in. “Hi.”
The curtains were pulled back just enough for her to look out at the dark street below and the main lights in the room were off. Only a small lamp cast a pool of light over a chair and side table.
For another moment, she just stood there quietly, looking a lot like someone who was trying not to cry. I leaned against the doorframe, not really knowing whether I would be welcome further inside the room.
“You know,” I said gently. “Most people who claim exhaustion from a two-hour drive at least pretend to yawn.”
She finally turned, but even from across the room, I could see that she was struggling—and that she was very, very tired. I just doubted that her exhaustion was from the drive. That made thedecision for me. I was going in, whether I was welcome or not. She could always tell me to leave.
Pushing away from the doorframe, I stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind me. Something about the way she was standing there, still, silent, and staring wistfully out at a city that wasn’t home, made my chest ache. I couldn’t afford to think about why right now.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Eliza,” I said. “You’re not okay.”
Her brow furrowed. “I’m not pretending.”
