Chapter 22 #2
The gentle sympathy in her voice was enough to break what little control Eleanor had left. She rose, and Bessie immediately wrapped her arms around her. For a moment, Eleanor allowed herself to be held. She allowed herself to be comforted.
“I do not understand,” Eleanor whispered through her tears. “I do not understand what happened.”
“I know.”
“He was not always like this.”
“No.”
“He was distant before, but this is different, like I have spent all this time trying to reach him, and now he has decided I am not worth reaching for.”
Bessie immediately pulled back. “Do not say that.”
Eleanor looked at her. “But perhaps it is true.”
“No.”
The certainty in Bessie’s voice surprised her. Her maid had always been gentle, always careful not to overstep, but there was something firmer beneath her words.
“Your Grace, I do not think this is as simple as him no longer caring.”
Eleanor frowned slightly.
“What do you mean?”
Bessie hesitated. It was brief, but Eleanor noticed.
“What is it?”
The maid glanced toward the closed door before lowering her voice.
“I do not think everything happening in this house is as it appears.”
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying that there are too many things happening at once, and too many people who seem determined to make you doubt yourself. I do not know everything, Your Grace, but I know when something feels wrong.”
She took Eleanor’s hands gently.
“You came here wanting to make this marriage work. You have tried. You have given more of yourself to this place than anyone could have expected.”
Eleanor looked away.
“And yet, he still looks at me as though I have failed.”
“Perhaps he is looking at something else entirely.”
The words lingered. Eleanor wanted to believe them; she desperately wanted to, but her heart was too tired.
“I do not know what to think anymore. I thought if I was patient enough, if I tried hard enough, perhaps one day he would see me, and now I wonder if perhaps he never wanted me to begin with.”
“I do not believe that.”
Eleanor gave a sad, humorless laugh.
“You are very certain for someone who does not know what he is thinking.”
“Perhaps, but I know what I have seen.”
Eleanor looked at her.
“And what have you seen?”
“I have seen a man who watches you when he thinks no one notices. I have seen a man who cares far more than he wishes anyone to know.”
“Then why would he treat me this way?”
Bessie did not have an answer. Neither did Eleanor. She did not have any explanation at all.
The silence that followed was filled with everything neither of them could explain. Eventually, Eleanor moved toward the window. Outside, the gardens stretched beautifully beneath the afternoon light.
“I want to leave.”
The words surprised even her. Bessie went still. Eleanor stared outside, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I never thought I would say that, but I do not know how to fix this.”
Bessie stepped beside her.
“You do not have to decide anything today.”
“But I cannot keep feeling this way.”
Something had shifted, and Eleanor feared she was trapped in the middle of it, caught between a marriage she desperately wanted to save and a freedom she had never once imagined wanting.
“Give it time,” Bessie pressed. “Believe me, you should not do this unless you know for certain that you do not wish to come back from it.”
And Eleanor nodded in agreement, even though it was not what she wanted.
She had no intention of remaining in the breakfast room any longer than necessary the following morning. After everything that had happened in the study, she could not bear another moment of strained silence.
She had spent the night barely sleeping, turning over every possible explanation for the sudden distance that had settled between them, but none of them made sense.
She had arrived at breakfast determined to appear composed, but the moment she saw the empty chair beside hers, the familiar ache returned. Alexander had already left for his estate duties. She should have expected nothing else.
Eleanor had barely touched her tea when she pushed her chair back.
“I think I shall take a walk before the weather changes.”
The words were meant for no one in particular, more an excuse than an announcement. She reached for her gloves, ready to escape the room before anyone could ask questions she did not have the strength to answer.
“Eleanor.”
She froze. She knew that voice. Slowly, she turned to see Julian standing in the doorway.
He looked different from the man who had spent the past weeks teasing and provoking, the man who had always carried himself with careless confidence.
There was no easy smile on his face, no playful remark waiting on his lips.
For once, he looked serious.
“I did not realize you had returned,” she said quietly.
“I arrived late last night.”
Eleanor nodded politely.
“I see.”
She turned back toward the door.
“I should let you enjoy your breakfast.”
“Please stay.”
In spite of everything, she looked back. He took a step into the room, his expression unusually earnest.
“I know I have no right to ask for your time. I know what you must think of me.”
Her fingers tightened around her gloves.
“Julian—”
“No, please. Let me say this.”
The request was gentle, not the command she was used to hearing from him.
“Very well.”
He looked down briefly before meeting her eyes again.
“I have spent a great deal of time thinking about the man I was before. I was arrogant. I thought I understood everything. I thought I could say whatever I wished, do whatever I wished, and that people would simply forgive me because I had never been forced to consider the consequences.”
He gave a quiet, humorless laugh.
“The war changed that. I saw men lose everything in a moment, men who had families waiting for them. They were men who had regrets they would never have the chance to correct. It put things into perspective.”
The sincerity in his tone unsettled her, because she had spent so long remembering Julian as the person who had hurt her, who had made her feel foolish for believing in him.
“I know I hurt you,” he continued. “I know I was careless with something I should have valued.”
Eleanor looked away.
“Julian, the past cannot simply be undone.”
“I know. I am not asking you to forget. I am asking you to believe that I am not the same man. I should have appreciated you when I had the chance. I should have understood what I had before I lost it.”
Eleanor swallowed.
“Why are you telling me this now?”
His expression faltered.
“Because seeing you here made me realize I may have lost you forever. I thought I had more time. I thought life would always give me another opportunity to fix my mistakes, but I was wrong.”
Eleanor did not know what to say. She had spent years imagining what it would feel like if Julian regretted what he had done. She had imagined feeling satisfaction, a sense of victory. Instead, she only felt tired.
“I cannot pretend nothing happened.”
“I would never ask you to. All I am asking is for the chance to prove myself. I know I do not deserve it. I know I have to earn back what I lost, but if you gave me the chance, I would spend every day trying to make it right.”
Eleanor’s heart tightened.
“And what exactly are you asking?”
For the first time, Julian seemed nervous.
“I am asking you to choose me. All it would take is for you to say yes.”
Eleanor stared at him. Once, that answer would have been easy. There was a time that she would have given anything for Julian to stand before her and say those words, but everything had changed.
When she thought of leaving Ashbourne, she did not only think of escaping pain. She thought of Alexander, the man who had hurt her without meaning to.
Her silence seemed to worry Julian.
“Eleanor?”
She looked at him.
“I do not know what I feel anymore. I spent so long believing I knew exactly what I wanted. I thought everything would be simple if I could just have the life I once imagined, but nothing is simple anymore.”
Julian followed her gaze.
“Is it him?”
Eleanor went still. She did not answer. She did not need to. After years of wanting to be chosen, she was standing in the breakfast room with another man offering her the future she once wanted, and instead of relief, all she felt was confusion.
Julian had returned changed, Alexander had pulled away, and somehow, impossibly, her heart felt caught between the two of them.