Caroline could not help the faint smile that followed, though she did not attempt to deny the truth of it. Whatever care they might have taken to preserve appearances, it had clearly not been sufficient to escape Eleanor’s notice, and she suspected it would not be long before others began to perceive it as well.
“You must not allow yourself to become too certain of matters that have not yet been formally established,” she said, though there was little force behind the caution. “There are still steps to be taken.”
“Oh, I shall allow myself to be as certain as I please,” Eleanor returned at once, undeterred. “If there is an understanding, then the rest will follow. My brother is not a man who leaves things undone, unlike others you have known. And when it is settled in truth, you will at last be my sister in truth rather than merely in spirit. While our friendship is dear to me, I have long consideredsuch a limited degree of kinship to you an intolerably inadequate arrangement.”
The warmth in her tone was unmistakable, and for a moment, Caroline found herself unable to respond at all, not for lack of words, but because of the unexpected depth of feeling those words stirred within her. She had not realized, until that moment, how much the prospect of such a connection meant to her, nor how readily she had come to think of Eleanor not merely as a friend, but as something closer, something that might soon be bound to her in a manner that could not be undone by circumstance or distance.
“I do not think I have ever heard you describe anything as inadequate before,” she said at last, her voice softened by the sincerity of her response.
“Then you have not been listening closely enough,” Eleanor replied, though her tone gentled as well. “But I assure you, I have long been of the opinion that you ought to belong to us more fully than you do. It is long past time the matter was corrected.”
There was no arguing with that, nor any desire to do so. Caroline inclined her head slightly, accepting the sentiment for what it was, and for a moment, neither of them spoke further, the quiet between them no longer uncertain, but settled and content in a way that required no immediate filling.
The village layquiet beneath the steady rhythm of the morning, its modest bustle marked more by habit than urgency, and he moved through it with a purpose that might have gone unnoticed by any who did not know him well. There was nothing outwardly remarkable in his manner, nothing to distinguish his errand from any other that might bring him into such a place, yetbeneath that outward composure there was a singular focus, and excitement that hummed in his blood and vibrated within in his flesh, that allowed for no distraction, no deviation from the task he had set himself.
He had not brought the ring with him from London out of any certainty that he would have occasion to use it. If anything, it had been a talisman of sorts, a touchstone for the hopes and dreams he had long carried. The stone itself was quite remarkable, the pale golden topaz mirroring the exact shade of Caroline’s rather remarkable hair. The gold setting, while simple, had a particularly well crafted foil backing behind the stone. It enhanced that color to a degree that made the stone gleam as if sunlight itself had been captured within it. Despite the perfection of the ring in that regard, it required a small alteration before it could be placed upon her hand. That alteration is what had carried him to the village that morning, for the sole purpose of seeking out the services of the village jeweler— a man who was startlingly skilled to have chosen to work in such a small community. But Julien felt quite fortunate the man had elected to remain in Hertfordshire rather than plying his uniquely skilled trade in the city.
The shop was modest, though well kept, its window displaying a careful arrangement of pieces that spoke to a respectable trade if not an extensive one, and he paused only briefly before entering, his decision already made and requiring no further consideration. The bell above the door announced his arrival, drawing the attention of the man behind the counter, who straightened at once, his manner attentive without being obsequious.
He did not waste time in unnecessary preliminaries. He explained what was required with a clarity that left little room for misunderstanding, producing the ring only when it became necessary to do so, and watching with quiet scrutiny as thejeweler examined it, assessing the work that would be needed to bring it to the proper size. The exchange was brief, the terms agreed upon without difficulty, and when the matter had been settled to his satisfaction, he took his leave without lingering, his purpose accomplished and his mind already turning toward what remained to be done before the evening.
He did not look back as he departed, nor did he give any indication that the errand held greater significance than any other, yet there was a quiet resolve in him now that had not been present before, a certainty that whatever hesitation had governed him in the past would not be permitted to dictate his actions again.
For a short time after he had gone, the shop returned to its ordinary stillness, the door closing upon the faint echo of his departure as the jeweler resumed his place behind the counter, his attention shifting once more to the routine matters of his trade. It might have remained so, undisturbed and unremarkable, had another not arrived so soon after, drawn by motives of a very different sort.
William Sutton did not enter with the same straightforward purpose. There was a deliberateness in his manner, a calculation that stood in quiet contrast to the earlier efficiency that had preceded him, and though his expression gave little away at first glance, there was a tension beneath it that spoke to a mind already set upon a particular conclusion. He had seen enough to form that conclusion for himself, and if there remained any uncertainty, it was not one he intended to leave unresolved.
The bell sounded once more as he stepped inside, and the jeweler looked up again, this time with a flicker of curiosity that he did not trouble to conceal. Sutton approached the counter with an ease that might have seemed unremarkable under other circumstances, yet there was an edge to it now, sharpened bysomething less easily disguised, and when he spoke, it was with a politeness that did not quite mask the intent behind it.
“The gentleman who was just in here, my good man… what did he require of you?”
The jeweler felt strangely compelled to conceal the truth. “A gift I believe.”
“For his mother, I take it?”
“Indeed, just so,” the artisan replied, not realizing that in his agreement he’d given away too much. Julien Harcourt’s mother had been long dead, after all.
William removed a small purse from the pocket of his coat. “I’d be most intrigued to know the nature of that gift. The gentleman is known to have exceptional taste, after all.”
The jeweler stared at the small stack of coins being placed before him, his conscience at war with the practicality of middle class life. And then he began to speak.
When William Sutton departed the shop, his expression was darker than a thundercloud, his manner indicative of a kind of fury that was truly startling. Whatever answers he’d discovered within the shop, had done little to ease his mind. In fact, those answers seemed to have sparked something in him that was quite akin to madness.
Chapter
Sixteen
The house had long since settled into the quiet that followed the last of the evening’s movements, when servants withdrew and doors were closed upon the day, leaving only the soft, intermittent sounds that marked the passage of the night. Caroline had not retired in any meaningful sense, though she had dismissed her maid and made the expected show of doing so. Sleep was not something she anticipated with any confidence, not when her thoughts remained so entirely occupied with what had passed between herself and Julien and what she knew—what she hoped— would yet come.
It had not been her intention to pace restlessly, yet she found herself doing so nonetheless, her steps hushed by the soft carpet beneath her slippered feet as she moved the length of her chamber and back again. Her hands were loosely clasped before her as though that small constraint might impose some degree of order upon the restless anticipation she could neither ignore nor fully contain. It was not uncertainty that drove her movement, but rather the opposite, a sense of inevitability, of eager anticipation, that made stillness difficult to maintain, as thoughthe quiet itself pressed upon her with too much expectation to be borne without motion.
The soft sound of the latch turning was not entirely unexpected, though it did not fail to still her where she stood. She did not turn at once, not out of hesitation, but because she wished to gather herself, to meet him not in a state of visible agitation, but with the composure she had carried throughout the day. By the time she faced him, she had achieved it, though the warmth that rose within her at the sight of him was not something she attempted to conceal.
“I thought I would come to you tonight. You should not be wandering the corridors at night,” he said without preamble, closing the door quietly behind him before turning the key with a deliberation that left little doubt as to his intent. “You take the entirety of the risk upon yourself, and I find I do not like it.”
There was no censure in his tone, though the edge beneath it was unmistakable, born not of anger, but of something far more personal, something that spoke to a concern he did not trouble himself to disguise. Even when embarking upon illicit actions, he was still thinking of her. Caroline regarded him for a moment, her head tilting slightly as though she might examine the statement from more than one angle before responding.
“How egalitarian of you,” she said at last, a faint smile touching her lips. “To insist upon sharing the risks, particularly when you did not also share in all the pleasures of the night before.”
