If you return.
Cam couldn’t say it. He could hardly even think it, so he said the only thing he could say. “I’ll tell her. Julian?”
Julian was nearly out the door, but he turned back. “Yes?”
Cam swallowed. “See you don’t . . . disappoint Amelia.”
“Disappoint a lady?” For the first time since he’d entered the study, Julian’s mouth turned up at the corners. Not a smile, but a bitter, angry twist of his lips. “I never do, cuz. I never do.”
* * *
Eleanor sat on the settee in the drawing room. A book lay open in her lap, but she wasn’t reading. It was too quiet to read. She couldn’t recall her home ever being this quiet before. This still. This empty.
An hour ago the front door had closed with a muted thud behind the new Marchioness of Hadley and her adoring spouse. Charlotte and her husband were on their way to Hampshire, and they didn’t intend to return to London until next spring.
It was done.
It had been a rather lovely wedding ceremony—quiet and subdued, yes, but lovely still, in great part because of Hadley, who’d been aglow with happiness to have secured Charlotte at last. One couldn’t see the joy on his face without being moved by it.
Charlotte had been pale but steady, and she’d smiled at Hadley as she spoke her vows. If she felt any regret over giving up Julian West, it hadn’t shown on her face. She’d made her choice, and, for better or worse, she’d made her peace with it.
Now if only Eleanor could do the same. Hadley would cherish her sister, so perhaps it was all for the best, this marriage. And yet . . .
“I beg your pardon, Lady Eleanor. You have a visitor.”
Eleanor looked up, surprised. She hadn’t heard Rylands come into the room. A nervous flutter tickled her stomach. When she hadn’t been thinking of Charlotte as she lay awake last night, she’d been staring at the canopy above her, eyes wide open, thinking of Cam, the feel of his fingers under her chin as he tilted her face up to his, the way his green eyes darkened with desire right before he took her lips.
Is thereno hope for us?
Today, at last, she had an answer for him. “Very well. Thank you, Rylands.”
The butler bowed and returned to the entryway.
Eleanor rose from her seat, the book still clutched in her hands, her eyes fixed on the door. Goodness, her knees felt shaky—
“Ellie! How do you do? I’ve waited this age to see you.”
Eleanor blinked. It wasn’t Cam after all, but Amelia. She nearly sagged with disappointment, but she did her best to hide it. “Good afternoon, Amelia. I hope you’ll come see me whenever you wish, and not wait for formal calling hours. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I told Miss Norwood as much, but she insisted we wait, and now I have only a little time to talk to you before Denny gets here.”
Another surge of disappointment. Cam wasn’t with his sister, then. “You came with Miss Norwood?”
“Yes. She’s off to have tea in the kitchens. I want to speak with youalone.” Amelia swelled with importance. “It’s a delicate matter, you see.”
Despite her low spirits, Eleanor suppressed a smile. Charlotte was gone, but Amelia was here, and as long as she was, Eleanor wouldn’t feel too lonely. “Well, it sounds as if we’d better sit down.”
Amelia gave her a grave nod. “Yes. I think that would be best.”
Eleanor gestured Amelia to the settee and they sat, side by side. Eleanor waited, but now Amelia had her attention, she seemed unsure where to begin. “Well, you see, it’s just this . . .”
Eleanor touched Amelia’s hand. “Yes? You can tell me anything. You know that, Amelia.”
“I know.” Amelia fidgeted with one of the blue silk pillows on the settee, but after a moment she met Eleanor’s gaze, and whatever she saw there seemed to encourage her. “It just won’t do. There. I’ve said it.”
Not all of it, Eleanor hoped, for this sounded like the end of the story, not the beginning. “What won’t do?”
“Why, you and Denny. Lady Charlotte said you were to marry, but Denny told me last night you won’t, so I’ve come to tell you it just won’t do.”
