"You are being observed," he said lightly.
Anne did not turn.
"I am accustomed to it."
"Not by me," Eleanor called, laughing.
"That is unfortunate," Anne said. "I had hoped for your approval."
"You do not require it."
"Perhaps not," Anne said. "But it would be welcome."
Henry glanced between them.
"Am I to understand that I am the subject of discussion?"
"Only briefly," Eleanor said. "You may consider yourself fortunate for that."
"I shall."
The moment eased, the attention shifting again as Eleanor moved toward Anne.
"Come," she said. "I promised to show you the terrace in the moonlight You shall not believe the difference!"
Anne allowed herself to be drawn away, though she cast one last glance back.
"I shall return," she said.
"I look forward to it," Henry replied.
Eleanor did not miss that, nor did Julian. They left together, their voices fading into the corridor beyond. The room quieted. Julian remained where he was for a moment, then turned his attention to Henry.
"What was that?" he asked.
Henry looked at him, the faintest hint of amusement still present.
"I am not sure what you mean."
"You are."
"That was a conversation between myself and a young lady that I have known for years."
"Do you know her well?"
"Not particularly, no, but I respect her a good deal. My sister thinks highly of her, and she has always been a good judge of character. There is nothing more to it than that."
"And yet, you appear interested."
Henry did not immediately deny it.
"I find her agreeable," he said.
"That is not what I meant."
"I am aware. I am being cautious."
"With me?"