“You are mistaken,” Halford sighed. “What I offer is not something to be dismissed without consideration. You understand what it means, what it restores–”
“I understand it perfectly.”
“Then you understand that refusing it would be unwise.”
Anne stepped between them at that.
“Mr. Halford, you will forgive me, but this is neither the time nor the place–”
“I am speaking with Miss Whitcombe,” he interrupted, not sharply, but with a quiet authority that dismissed her presence all the same.
Eleanor’s attention did not leave him.
“You will not dismiss my friend,” she said.
His focus returned to her fully, as though Anne had not spoken at all.
“I am attempting to correct a mistake,” he said. “One that should never have been allowed to occur. You know as well as I do that what happened in London was unfortunate, but it is not irreversible.”
“I have considered it.”
“And yet you hesitate.”
“I do not hesitate.”
The certainty in her voice did not deter him. If anything, it seemed to sharpen his insistence.
“You owe yourself more than this,” he said. “More than retreat, more than distance. You owe yourself the chance to return to what you were meant to have.”
“I owe myself nothing that requires your involvement.”
There was a brief shift in him then, subtle but unmistakable, the smooth control of his manner tightening into something less accommodating.
“You think you can simply walk away from it,” he said, his voice lower now, though no less controlled. “You think you can refuse what is being offered and suffer no consequence.”
Eleanor held her ground. Seeing this side of him again only confirmed her decision. She could not trust him, not with her reputation and certainly not with her protection.
“I think I have already endured the consequence of trusting you once.”
“That is precisely why you should allow me to repair it. I am giving you the opportunity to regain everything you lost. That is not something you should dismiss so lightly.”
“I do not dismiss it lightly,” Eleanor said. “I reject it entirely.”
The words landed cleanly, without hesitation, without room for reinterpretation. For a moment, Halford said nothing, though the shift in him was no longer subtle.
“You will regret that,” he said quietly.
“I will not.”
“You think you have the freedom to decide this as you please. You do not. Your position, your future, your place in society, these are not things you can simply reclaim on your own. They require assistance.”
“I am aware.”
“And yet you refuse mine.”
“Yes.”
The word did not waver. Halford stepped closer, the movement slight, but enough to breach the space that should have remained between them.