Chapter Thirty-One
I sabella had said that whatever it was Eleanor had to do, it was obvious.
Which bothered Eleanor as she walked slowly through the sprawling grounds of Brewster Manor, hands linked behind her back, shoes crunching on the summer-dry grass.
The air was warm and heavy, tinged with the smell of mown grass and damp earth.
There was one obvious answer here, but Eleanor wasn’t exactly sure that it was the one her grandmother was suggesting.
She barely noticed where she was going. These grounds had been her world since she was a child.
She turned toward the old gazebo, a place she’d always found oddly comforting, despite its obvious damp problem.
It had been a retreat, a place to play make believe, and as she got older, a space she could read in, dream in.
It had been a place to hide, she realized now. A place where she could be anyone, not just the Lady Eleanor.
It had been an odd childhood, by most definitions.
As she walked, her mind drifted back. She’d been an only child.
More than that, she’d been the only child in a house that had echoed with emptiness.
She’d been sent to boarding school when she was six, learning Latin, History, and how to mask her emotions behind a perfect smile.
Not that she hadn’t had friends. She had. Boarding school friendships were deep and lasting. But they also tended to stay at school. The only person she’d known in the area was Elizabeth, though she wasn’t sure if they’d been sent to the same school by design.
And then, as she got older, there had been relationships. Well, she’d thought of them as relationships. There’d been sex, of course. And outings. Dates. But it had always been… controlled. Safe.
Until Danni.
There was something so different about being with Danni.
She only realized now that living with Danni was the first time she’d ever truly shared a space with someone else.
The first time she’d fallen asleep to the sound of someone else’s breathing.
The first time she’d fought over which way mugs should face in a cupboard.
The first time she had felt at home.
She reached the gazebo, her fingers grazing over the slowly rotting wood.
The place needed renovating just as much as the house.
And then she turned so that she could look back at the house, at its grandeur.
It had stood there for centuries now, steeped in history, a testament to the family name.
But what was it really? Just a house. A building.
Something that could never love her back.
It had been her home. Except now she knew what home really was, and she’d walked away from it. How was that possible? How could she think that was the right thing to do?
Danni was home.
Her breath came sharp and uneven as she let the realization settle. Fear had driven her away, but was fear really a good enough reason to throw away something that had made her feel so alive? What if she wasn’t good at this? At love? What if she failed?
What if she didn’t?
Isabella had been right about one thing. There was more than one way to protect Danni. She cast one last look over the house. And what she had to do was glaringly obvious.
She straightened her spine, turned on her heel, and strode back toward the house, heart hammering.
There was no more room for doubt. She’d made a mistake, but mistakes could be fixed. Whether or not that would lead to a happy ending, she had no idea. But what kind of fool would she be if she didn’t at least try?
ELEANOR MARCHED INTO Elizabeth’s office at a quarter past two. Elizabeth was sitting at her desk, glasses perched on the tip of her nose, as she frowned at a pile of paperwork. She didn’t look up as Eleanor walked in.
“I’m rather busy.”
“You’re not too busy for me,” Eleanor said.
Elizabeth looked up in surprise. “Nor? Is everything alright?”
“Yes and no,” said Eleanor. She pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’m going to need all the paperwork you have about the terms of the estate trust and the valuation of both the house and the grounds.”
That got Elizabeth’s attention. She set her pen down slowly. “Pardon?”
Eleanor crossed her legs and put her elbows on Elizabeth’s desk, steepling her fingers. “I want to know exactly what I can and cannot do with the house and the surrounding land, as well as finding out the most recent valuations of both.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Nor, what exactly are you up to?”
“Just thinking about my future,” said Eleanor airily.
“Sounds ominous.”
“No, it’s long overdue,” Eleanor said.
Elizabeth glanced at her paperwork, before pushing it to one side and rubbing at her temples.
“Eleanor, I’m your friend, but I’m also your solicitor.
I can listen to your worries and even advise you on them, but it’s also my job to ensure that you’re making good decisions when it comes to your assets. ”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Eleanor pointed out.
“No, I can’t. Not as long as you’re on the right side of the law,” Elizabeth sighed. “Alright, what is it that you’re trying to do, exactly? You’ve always been so obsessive about keeping the house. I find it difficult to believe that you’ve suddenly changed your mind.”
Eleanor exhaled slowly, drumming her fingers together. Then, as if the thought had just struck her, she said, “Has it ever occurred to you that a house would be terribly bad in bed?”
Elizabeth’s hand slipped, sending her pen rolling off the desk. “Has it… What?”
“Exactly what I said,” said Eleanor. “House. Bad in bed. Also, awful at cooking breakfast, not great at words of wisdom, and positively boorish to talk to.”
“Have you had some kind of stroke?” asked Elizabeth, reaching for her phone with a look of concern.
“No, no,” Eleanor said, waving a hand. “What I mean is that I think that all this time I’ve been in love with a house.
Or, perhaps more accurately, the idea of a house.
What it stood for. Just the other day, Samson told my grandmother that she shouldn’t call herself dowager, that she shouldn’t define herself by what her husband was.
But here I am, defining myself by a house, which is equally ridiculous, if not more so. ”
“Your grandmother met Samson?” asked Elizabeth, trying desperately to keep up.
“You can’t build a life with a house, Elizabeth. It won’t argue with you about tea brands or tease you for having an irrational fear of liquid soap. It won’t hold you when you’re half asleep and pretend not to notice that you’re crying at a film.”
Elizabeth blinked. “You’re scaring me a little.”
“I’m scaring myself,” Eleanor said, leaning back. “But I need to be scared. I need to break out of my life, otherwise I’ll never find anything new, will I?”
“This is about Danni, isn’t it?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes.” There was no point in lying. Elizabeth would find out sooner or later .
“Mmmhmm. You wanted to file for divorce.”
“I know,” Eleanor said.
“But now you don’t?”
“I… don’t know,” said Eleanor. “Let’s just put that on hold for a short while. There are other things to be done first.”
“What exactly are you planning to do, Nor?” Elizabeth asked.
Eleanor took a deep breath. “I’m going to fix it.”
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Fix what? Fix it how?”
Ignoring her, Eleanor leaned forward again. “Tell me, Elizabeth, what’s the bravest thing that you’ve ever done?”
For a second, Elizabeth hesitated, then she said, “Skydiving.”
Eleanor snorted. “That’s not brave. It’s simply falling and hoping for the best.”
“And what do you call brave, then?” Elizabeth asked, slightly stung. “Because I’ll have you know that ten thousand feet is an awful lot higher than you might expect it to be, particularly when you’re staring down at the ground from a plane.”
“No,” Eleanor said, smiling softly. “No. Brave is letting someone in. Brave is knowing how fragile we all are, and yet opening up the door anyway and inviting someone in. Someone who might shatter all the plates and break all the windows. But someone who might just make themselves at home instead.”
“Are we talking about the house again?” asked Elizabeth.
“We’re talking about love,” Eleanor corrected. “Loving someone enough to risk everything.”
Elizabeth sighed and rubbed at her temples again. “And what happens if Danni isn’t interested in taking you back?” she asked. “The papers of formal separation have already been signed, you know.”
Eleanor’s chest ached at the thought, but she nodded, resolute. “Then I’ll at least know that I tried. And I’ll know that I wasn’t a coward. I’ll know that the brass ring was there and I jumped for it. I won’t spend the rest of my life wondering.”
“If you’re about to do what I think you’re about to do, then you might find yourself living the rest of your life without a roof over your head. ”
Eleanor said nothing, and eventually Elizabeth shook her head and exhaled.
“Alright, what do you need me to do?”
A weight lifted off Eleanor’s shoulders. “Set up a meeting with the representatives of the trust and the bank.”
Elizabeth picked up a pen and scribbled something down. “Consider it done. But Eleanor?”
Eleanor was about to stand up, but she paused. “Don’t you dare try to talk me out of this.”
“I wasn’t going to,” said Elizabeth. “I know better than that. But I will just say that if you’re planning on grand-gesturing your way back into Danni’s life, then I really would prefer it if you didn’t get arrested. I’m too old to be answering two a.m. phone calls from the police station.”
Eleanor huffed a laugh and got up. “Your wish is my command,” she said as she walked out of Elizabeth’s office.
She felt lighter than she had in years. For the first time in her life, she was choosing love over duty.
And God help her, she wasn’t about to mess it up this time.