But it was true. He’d honored every truce, kept every promise. Now it only remained to be seen if he’d have his way in the end.Have her. He’d sworn he would, and he hadn’t broken a promise yet.
And she . . . she hadn’t any promises to break, because she hadn’t made any, aside from the one she’d made to herself. To marry only for love.
Nothing had changed. Cam wanted her, but desire wasn’t love. It was a dream only, an illusion that faded into nothing without love to feed it. The only true thing was the promise she’d made to herself.
Eleanor crossed over to the window with halting steps, and gazed down at the profusion of purple flowers below. She saw Amelia as she’d been yesterday, her fair hair haloed by the sun, her face alight with excitement and pride as she dashed from flower to flower, and Ellie’s fingers curled into the windowsill.
See how they’re all different shades of purple, Lady Eleanor?
There was a faint knock at the door, and she froze, turned, a hand to her mouth. Surely the hunting party had left by now? Even if they hadn’t, surely he wouldn’t—
He would. He had. Last night. He’d entered her bedchamber. She hadn’t been here, but if she had been, and they’d been alone . . .
“Eleanor?” Charlotte called. “Are you awake? Open the door.”
Eleanor heaved a sigh of . . . relief? Yes, of course it was relief, and hurried across the room.
“You weren’t at breakfast.” Charlotte closed the door behind her. “I was worried. Did you ring for a tray? Goodness, Eleanor, you’re not even dressed yet.”
“No. I didn’t sleep well.” Eleanor dropped onto the bed and slipped under the coverlet, shivering. Her whole body felt cold.
Charlotte perched on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry.”
Eleanor studied her sister, who despite her pink cheeks, had shadows under her eyes. “You look as if you didn’t sleep much yourself, Charlotte, though I must say you look well in spite of it.” She tilted her head to the side. “You’re glowing, rather.”
Charlotte flushed an even deeper pink. “Am I? Well, I, ah—I believe I got too much sun yesterday, that’s all. Shall I ring for tea?” She leapt off the bed, made a great show of ringing the bell, and then busied herself with rearranging the items on Eleanor’s dressing table.
“I suppose,” Eleanor replied, without enthusiasm. The nerves in her belly whined in protest at the thought of eating. “Have the gentlemen left for their sport yet?”
“Yes. Mrs. Mullins sent them off with a large hamper, so I doubt we’ll be troubled by them until much later this afternoon.”
Cam was away for the entire day then, which left the way clear for Eleanor to finish what she’d begun with Mrs. Mullins last night. When he returned this evening, he’d find his marriage plans had gone up in flames.
Her heart shuddered in protest at the thought, but this madness between them had to end. She’d never trust Cam—not now, after the way they’d begun, and she couldn’t love a man she couldn’t trust. Absurd, then, the sinking feeling in her stomach. She should be pleased. Shewaspleased, only there was this pain in her chest—
Charlotte studied her, her expression shrewd. “You look ill. You’ve found out something, haven’t you?”
Eleanor hesitated. “I have, yes.”
“Well?” Charlotte made a beckoning motion with her fingers. “What is it?”
Eleanor bit her lip. If she told Charlotte what she knew about Amelia’s birth, there would be an end to this. She may find she couldn’t bring herself to use the information, but Charlotte might not have the same scruples.
That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To free herself from Camden West, and never look back? Yes, yes—of course it was. And yet . . .
Part of this drama had yet to unfold. She still didn’t know why Cam insisted on marrying onlyher. The Sutherlands were known to be a tight-knit family, and they’d never turn their backs on Amelia because she’d been born on the wrong side of the blanket. Certainly it was to Amelia’s advantage for Cam to make this marriage, but there was more to it than that. There had to be.
“Eleanor?”
Tell Charlotte what you know, and end this.
“I can’t say just yet,” Eleanor said, disgusted with herself even as the words left her mouth. “It’s only servants’ gossip at this point, and we need more than that.”
Charlotte wrinkled her brow. “More? Well, where do you plan to get it?”
Eleanor plucked at the covers. “Mary West. I need to get her away from her husband if I want the truth, though.”
“Yes. He looks like the sort of man who’d lie on principle, doesn’t he? How the father could be so different from his—ah, that is, it shouldn’t be too difficult to get her alone. I think she avoids her husband. I know I would, in her place.”
