Not required to be anything.
The words settled more sharply than they should have. There was a brief pause, then the sound of a hand brushing against a horse’s flank.
"He likes you," the man said.
"I am glad of it," Eleanor replied. "It would be inconvenient to be rejected by both horse and rider in the same household."
The stablehand laughed again, more openly this time. Julian did not. The remark was harmless, easily dismissed, and yet it lingered. He remained where he was, listening without intending to, aware of the fact and unwilling to step forward all the same. There was something in the ease of it that held him there, something he could not quite turn away from even as he knew he should.
She did not sound like someone holding herself at a distance. She did not sound like someone measuring her words.
"I should like to ride tomorrow," she said. "If that would not be troublesome."
"Not at all, my lady," the man replied. "I'll have him ready for you."
"Thank you."
There was a small shift in the air, the sense of movement, of something drawing to a close. Julian stepped back before she could appear in the doorway, the motion instinctive, ensuring that his presence remained unnoticed. He did not wait to see her, did not allow himself that, though he could hear the faint sound of her steps as she moved away from the stables, her voice no longer carrying as she left the space behind.
Silence returned. Only then did he step inside. The stablehand straightened at once.
"Saddle him," he instructed.
"Right away, my lord."
The man moved to obey without question, leaving Julian alone with the quiet, the lingering echo of a conversation that should have meant nothing.
He moved further into the stables, his attention fixed ahead, though his thoughts refused to settle into the simplicity he had intended. There had been nothing in what he had heard that warranted the reaction it had stirred, nothing that could be called improper or even noteworthy, and yet the ease of hervoice remained with him, sharp in its contrast to what had passed between them.
She had done exactly what he had required, so why was he so upset about it? Julian exhaled slowly, his hand resting briefly against the stall door before he forced himself to still.
She had not withdrawn from everything, only from him. The thought settled without invitation, unwelcome in its clarity, and though he did not give it voice, did not allow it to shape his expression or his actions, it remained all the same as the horse was brought forward and the routine he had intended resumed.
He mounted without hesitation and rode as he had planned, but the peace he had sought did not come as easily as it should have, and the sound of her laughter, light and unguarded, remained with him far longer than he allowed himself to admit.
Nor, he recognized, did the lingering feeling that he was making a grave mistake.
CHAPTER 23
The invitation came without Eleanor expecting one.
She had been in the sitting room when Julian entered, his presence announced only by the quiet shift in the air that seemed to follow him wherever he went. She looked up, not with the anticipation she might have felt days before, but with a composed calm that gave nothing away.
"I am going into the village," he said. "Would you like to accompany me?"
There was no softness in the phrasing, no suggestion that it was anything other than a practical arrangement. It was, in essence, the same tone he had used when he first proposed marriage, leaving little room for misinterpretation. Eleanor held his gaze for a moment before answering, her voice even.
"Of course. I am always happy to keep up appearances, if that is what is required of me."
The words carried just enough meaning to settle between them without needing to be explained. Julian nodded, clearly not seeing anything to be gained by asking her what she meant by that.
"Then we shall leave shortly."
"I will be ready."
He did not linger, and she did not ask him to. Instead, she prepared to do battle. She had hoped to see her brother that day, though after inviting him she realized that she did not know what to say to him.
By the time they reached the village, Eleanor had already settled into the role she had chosen for herself. The earlier exchange no longer mattered, or at least she would not show it.