Chapter 31 #2
Arabella’s gaze drifted past Eleanor, landing on James. Her expression sharpened, memory returning in fragments.
“You,” Arabella rasped. “You came back.”
James’s voice was quiet. “Yes.”
Arabella’s eyes narrowed. “About time.”
Eleanor let out a shaky breath that was half laugh, half sob, and squeezed her sister’s hand as if she could keep her awake through will alone.
Arabella’s eyes struggled to focus, blinking as though the room was swimming around her.
“What happened?” she asked again, her voice hoarse. “Why does my head feel as if someone struck it with a brick?”
Eleanor forced a smile that did not reach her throat. “Because someone did strike you.”
Arabella’s brows knit. “In my room?”
“In mine,” Eleanor corrected gently. “You were with me.”
Arabella stared for a moment, then memory flickered across her face. The masked figure. The sound of wood splintering. Eleanor’s scream.
Her gaze snapped to Eleanor’s throat. “He tried to choke you.”
Eleanor’s fingers rose instinctively to the faint bruising there. “Yes.”
Arabella’s eyes widened, anger sharpening her features even through the haze. “Where is he?”
“Gone,” Eleanor said. “For now.”
Arabella tried to sit up too quickly and winced. “No.”
Eleanor steadied her shoulder. “Slowly.”
Arabella swallowed, then forced the words out. “He cannot simply leave.”
Eleanor’s voice hardened. “He will not. We will bring him to justice.”
Arabella stared at her, then looked past her toward James, who stood near the foot of the bed, still and watchful. His expression was tight with restraint, as if he feared any movement would shatter what little calm existed in the room.
Arabella’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a promise?”
James’s jaw flexed. “Yes.”
Arabella exhaled, then grimaced. “Good. Because I would hate to survive this only for it to be ignored.”
Eleanor’s grip tightened on Arabella’s hand. “It will not be ignored.”
Arabella’s gaze flickered between them. “You two look as though you have not slept in a week.”
Eleanor gave a small, strained laugh. “It may be close to that.”
James stepped closer, voice quieter. “The physician said you must rest.”
Arabella’s mouth tightened. “I will rest when I have finished being furious.”
Eleanor leaned in. “You were brave. You saved me.”
Arabella scoffed, though her eyes softened. “I would have preferred to do it without being struck in the skull.”
Eleanor blinked hard, fighting the sudden sting behind her eyes. “I know.”
Arabella’s gaze sharpened again. “Eleanor.”
“Yes?”
Arabella’s voice dropped. “Who was he?”
Eleanor hesitated.
James spoke instead, steady and controlled. “We do not have his name.”
Arabella’s eyes narrowed. “And what about Lady Whitcombe?”
Eleanor felt her chest tighten. Arabella had heard the name before. At the ball. In Eleanor’s own thoughts. Now it carried something uglier, sharper.
“She is involved,” Eleanor said carefully.
Arabella’s expression darkened. “She sent him.”
Eleanor nodded. “Yes.”
Arabella looked at James. “And you knew this before last night?”
James did not flinch, but his silence spoke loudly.
Arabella’s lips pressed together. “I see.”
Eleanor squeezed her sister’s hand gently. “Arabella.”
Arabella’s gaze softened toward Eleanor but stayed hard toward James. “Do not ask me to be polite.”
“I would never,” Eleanor said quietly.
A strained silence settled.
Eleanor felt James’s eyes on her, watched the way his posture shifted slightly, as if he were waiting for a decision.
She turned her head and met his gaze directly.
He had refused her request the night before. He had tried to lock her out of the truth. He had tried to protect her by keeping her ignorant.
But she had fought for her life in her own bedchamber. She had earned the right to understand the danger in her home.
Eleanor held his gaze, the question unspoken but clear.
James’s jaw tightened.
Then he nodded once.
Relief hit Eleanor so sharply her breath caught.
Arabella noticed at once, her eyes flicking between them. “What was that?”
Eleanor’s voice steadied. “He has agreed to include me.”
Arabella blinked. “Include you in what?”
“In catching her,” Eleanor said. “In ending this.”
Arabella’s brows lifted, then her expression sharpened. “Good. Because if you tried to exclude her after what happened, I would have struck you myself.”
James’s mouth tightened. “I am not delighted by the arrangement.”
Eleanor lifted a brow. “No?”
James’s gaze held hers. “You will follow my plan.”
Eleanor’s shoulders squared instinctively. “You do not get to command me.”
“I do not intend to command you,” James replied, voice low. “But you will listen.”
Eleanor’s throat tightened. “And if your plan demands I be silent and obedient?”
James’s eyes narrowed. “It will demand you stay alive.”
The words were blunt. Not romantic. Not gentle.
But they hit her with more force than tenderness would have.
Eleanor took a slow breath. “Then speak carefully. Because I will not be treated like a delicate ornament.”
James’s expression flickered, something like reluctant admiration. “You are not.”
Arabella’s voice cut in, dry. “If you two are finished negotiating, I should like to know what happens next.”
Eleanor turned to her sister at once. “We find the man who did this and we make certain he cannot return.”
Arabella’s eyes narrowed. “And Lady Whitcombe?”
Eleanor’s mouth tightened. “Her as well.”
James stepped closer, his voice controlled. “Lady Whitcombe is not acting alone.”
Arabella’s gaze sharpened. “You mean she has allies.”
“Yes,” James said. “Or an employee. Someone paid to open doors that should remain locked.”
Eleanor’s stomach turned. “Someone inside Blackmere.”
James nodded. “There is no other way.”
Arabella’s face went pale with anger. “A servant?”
“Possibly,” James said. “Or a lesser employee. A footman. A maid. Someone who knows the house’s habits.”
Eleanor’s mind raced. She pictured the corridors. The nightly checks. The way the household moved like a machine.
Someone had allowed a masked man into her bedchamber.
She felt sick.
James continued, quieter now. “And there is another concern.”
Eleanor’s gaze snapped to him. “What?”
His eyes held hers steadily. “I have seen Lady Whitcombe with your father.”
Eleanor went still. “With my father?”
Arabella’s head lifted sharply. “When?”
“At the ball,” James said. “I saw them speaking. I did not understand the significance then. I do now.”
Eleanor’s pulse pounded. “Is he in danger?”
James’s jaw tightened. “Possibly.”
Arabella’s eyes narrowed. “My father is many things, but he is not foolish.”
James’s voice remained calm. “He is proud. That makes him predictable.”
Eleanor’s stomach tightened. She did not want to admit it, but James was right. Norman Barker would never believe himself vulnerable. He would believe he could manage any situation with money, threats, or charm.
“Then what do we do?” Eleanor asked.
James exhaled slowly. “We set a trap.”
Arabella blinked. “A trap.”
“Yes,” James replied. “Lady Whitcombe believes she can reach into my household. That she can frighten us into retreat. She believes she holds the upper hand because she has already struck.”
Eleanor’s hands curled in the sheets. “She will strike again.”
James nodded. “Which means we can anticipate her.”
Eleanor’s throat tightened. “And the spy?”
James’s gaze sharpened. “We expose them by forcing a choice.”
Arabella frowned. “How?”
James’s voice dropped. “By giving the staff information that is not true, and watching which thread is pulled.”
Eleanor stared at him. “You want to lie to our own household.”
“I want to identify the person who lied to us first,” James replied.
Arabella’s expression darkened. “I hate that this makes sense.”
Eleanor swallowed. “What is the plan?”
James held her gaze. “You will need to play a part.”
Eleanor felt her stomach drop. “What part?”
James’s expression softened slightly, as if he disliked the answer. “The bait.”
Arabella’s eyes flashed. “Absolutely not.”
Eleanor’s heart pounded, but her voice stayed steady. “Explain.”
James looked toward Arabella. “She will not be alone.”
Arabella’s jaw clenched. “She should not be bait at all.”
Eleanor’s hand tightened around Arabella’s. “I will do it.”
Arabella stared at her. “Eleanor.”
Eleanor met her gaze. “She hurt you. She threatened me. She turned my home into a place I cannot sleep. I will not hide.”
Arabella’s eyes softened, then sharpened again with stubborn loyalty. “Then I am involved too.”
“No,” Eleanor said at once.
Arabella’s mouth tightened. “Why not?”
“Because you are injured,” Eleanor replied. “Because I cannot bear the thought of you being struck again.”
Arabella looked as though she might argue, then winced as she shifted her head. “Fine,” she muttered. “But I will not be shut out entirely.”
James’s voice cut in, decisive. “You will rest. That is nonnegotiable.”
Arabella scowled. “Your Grace.”
James ignored it.
Eleanor felt a sharp, unexpected ache in her chest then.
Relief that Arabella was awake. Determination now that James had agreed. And beneath it, heartbreak.
Because she could see the line forming already.
Once this was over, the urgency would fade. The danger would pass. And James would remember all the reasons he had built walls between them.
They would live separately, as he had promised so coldly. As she had thrown back at him in anger.
She swallowed hard.
James was still speaking, outlining steps, timing, names. Eleanor nodded when appropriate, forced herself to focus.
“After we catch her,” James said, voice low, “I will ensure you are safe.”
Eleanor’s stomach tightened. Safe. Alone.
She glanced toward Arabella, who had begun to sink back into the pillows, fatigue finally pulling her down again.
Eleanor rose slowly, smoothing her skirts with hands that were not quite steady.
“Very well,” she said calmly, as Roderick walked into the room.
James nodded to his friend, but still turned to her and said, “I will speak with Mr. Pritchard and Mrs. Hargreaves.”
Eleanor met his gaze. “Please do not leave me uninformed again.”
“I will not,” he said quietly.
Eleanor turned away before he could see the fracture in her composure.
They would get ready.
They would play their parts.
They would ignore the turmoil inside them because there were more urgent things than hearts.
For now.
But Eleanor knew the cost was coming.