"Thank you," she said, her eyes on his.
"You are welcome– and Eleanor, you need not ask my permission for such matters."
"Perhaps not," Eleanor replied. "But I thought it best."
"It was not necessary."
"Even so."
Neither of them moved immediately. There was a moment, brief but noticeable, in which the formality of the exchange had concluded, but neither had yet stepped away from it. Julian became aware, again, of her presence in a way that was increasingly difficult to ignore.
It was not the conversation, nor the request, simply the fact that she stood there, close enough that the distance between them felt less defined than it should have been. Eleanor seemed equally aware of it, though she did not step back.
"I shall write to them in the morning," she said at last.
"That would be sensible."
"Yes," she replied, her tone light again. "We must not risk unnecessary spontaneity."
Julian’s expression shifted, just slightly. He could not help but wonder what she thought of that trait of hers.
"Certainly not."
Eleanor held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded her head.
"I shall show our guests to their rooms for the night, and then I believe I ought to rest too. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
She moved past him, her presence lingering. Anne and Henry followed, though Henry remained in the doorway for a moment and gave Julian a look with far more knowing in it than Julian would have liked.
Julian could only leave once he was certain they were gone.
CHAPTER 15
Voices carried through the corridors, and the stillness that had once defined the place did not disappear, but it shifted, softened at the edges.
Eleanor’s friends had arrived.
By the afternoon, they had abandoned the house altogether. The air outside was mild, the gardens stretching easily into open land, and it felt natural to walk rather than remain indoors under watchful order.
They kept no particular pace, drifting along the path as the conversation unfolded without effort just as it always had.
"I had begun to think you had vanished entirely," Beatrice said, glancing at Eleanor. "We received a letter, and then nothing for weeks."
"You received more than most," Eleanor replied. "I was not inclined to write at length."
"That is very unlike you," Anne said.
"I am adapting," Eleanor said, with a trace of amusement. "I am more preoccupied than before, as you know."
Beatrice studied her more closely.
"You say that as though it explains everything."
"It explains enough."
Anne gave a small, knowing look.