"Attend the dinner," Lily said, gesturing vaguely toward her. "You will impress everyone."
Eleanor followed the motion with her eyes, then looked back at her.
"I shall attempt it," she said.
"That is enough," Lily replied, with quiet certainty.
Eleanor studied her for a moment longer, then inclined her head slightly. Behind her, the maid stepped back, the final adjustments complete. Lily remained where she was, no longer lingering near the door, no longer uncertain of whether she belonged in the room. Eleanor, as she rose, made a quiet note of it. She would ask Julian about everything, and she would receive an answer.
The evening was smaller than the house party, and far more welcoming. Even so, Eleanor felt herself being watched.
Whether they had gone out or received their guests made little difference in practice. The structure remained the same, and unlike a grand ball, everything was seen more clearly, as there were less people to watch.
Julian guided Eleanor into the room with measured ease, his attention fixed where it ought to be, his manner composed and entirely assured. There was no hesitation in him, no visible adjustment to the change in circumstance.
"Lady Harrowby," their host greeted.
The title followed her again, this time with greater weight. Eleanor inclined her head, accepting it without pause. Introductions were brief, and then conversation settled quicklyinto place, guided by expectation as much as inclination. Nothing was said directly, and yet everything was understood. There was the speed of the marriage, the unexpected nature of it, and yet the absence of any visible uncertainty between them.
Julian did not leave her to navigate it alone.
He remained near when it was required, drawing others into conversation when necessary if it meant avoiding the matter. When they moved to the table, he pulled out her chair as if it were instinctive, his hand steady at the back of it as she sat.
"Thank you," she said.
"Of course."
Julian, it seemed, was not as cold as he wished to appear. Eleanor was aware of it even though she could not quite believe that it was real. He was being the perfect gentleman, and he appeared considerate and devoted.
It was as though it meant something beyond what it was.
Julian spoke to her when appropriate, not in a way that would draw undue attention, but often enough that it could not be overlooked. He ensured she was included, that nothing passed her by unnoticed, that her position was not only acknowledged but reinforced. It was faultless, and entirely by design.
"It must be quite the adjustment," Lady Farrow suggested, her gray curls bouncing as she spoke.
"It is certainly different in comparison with my life before," Eleanor replied, "but it is nothing that we cannot manage."
"Have you known one another long?"
"Indeed," Julian replied. "I have had the pleasure of knowing my wife for years now, and I have considered her a friend for much of that time. I will not pretend that I am unaware of the speculation surrounding our match, but it is not the rushed thing that some claim. I simply realized that I enjoyed having her in my life, and I wanted her to be with me for the rest of our lives. There is no scandal to it, much to the dismay of many."
He lied very easily, Eleanor thought, and it was a trait that, though she did not like it and it made him rather untrustworthy as far as she was concerned, was most useful. No one could have found fault in it. That was the difficulty that she faced.
The careful attention that he was giving her was the closest she had ever come to being treated as though she had been chosen, and she knew, with absolute certainty, that she had not.
The distinction did not show, however. It could not. She smiled when required, spoke when addressed, allowed the evening to unfold without disruption. There was no faltering, no visible hesitation, only the awareness that what appeared to be real was, in fact, constructed.
And that she had agreed to it.
Julian glanced at her once during the meal, not for long, not in a way that would draw attention, but enough that she noticed.
"Are you enjoying your evening?" he said quietly.
"Yes."
He studied her for a fraction longer, as though confirming it.
"Good."