doing could possibly have bothered her.
And that was the trouble. It bothered her a lot.
“You must bring your sister to dinner, Miss Andrews,” Hugo said, snapping Eleanor back to the issue at hand, and she tried to stop noticing that his eyes looked like overpriced whiskey. Especially when she couldn’t read the expression in them, as he looked from Eleanor to Vivi and then back again. “In my private room. Tonight.”
“I would love to, Your Grace,” Vivi trilled—but Hugo was already walking away.
Eleanor pulled her arm away from Vivi’s then, and hated herself for it.
“There’s no need to respond,” she said matter-of-factly. “He is the Duke and this is his house. That was not a request or an invitation, it was an order.”
Eleanor set off again then, aware that her sister was following behind her. And that Vivi was laughing softly under her breath, which the tight, thickening thing inside of her knew could only bode ill. But she refused to look over her shoulder to see. She refused to give in to the dark things sloshing around in her gut.
She refused to be the person she’d apparently become.
Eleanor finally reached her rooms, and threw her door open, beckoning for Vivi to come inside.
And then had to ask herself why she was surprised that her sister entered the room very much the way she had, back when she’d arrived. Staring all around at the sheer luxury. Eleanor found herself standing there in the sitting room, rooted to the floor as Vivi gave herself a tour, feeling awkward and angry and deeply disappointed in herself.
“My, my, my. This just gets better and better.”
Vivi’s faintly accusing voice floating in from one of the other rooms struck Eleanor in the heart. Because the truth was, she felt guilty. Horribly guilty.
And she knew why.
Her sister would have been here like a shot if she’d had any idea the sort of opulence that was on display at every turn in Groves House. That alone would have encouraged her. But Hugo’s presence? Her sister would have done anything to meet the Duke of Grovesmoor. And Eleanor still couldn’t explain to herself, not reasonably anyway, why she hadn’t let Vivi know from the start that Hugo was in residence.
“You fancy him.”
Eleanor’s head shot up at that. She found Vivi leaning in the door that led from the sitting room to the bathroom, a considering look on her pretty face.
“Don’t be absurd,” she said. “He’s my employer.”
Vivi shook her head, and there was a sharp light in her eyes that Eleanor couldn’t say she cared for at all. “Why else would you have lied to me?”
“I’ve never lied to you, Vivi. And you still haven’t told me why you’re here. Not the real reason.”
“I missed you.”
Something pointed seem to lodge in Eleanor’s side, because she wanted that to be true. And she also knew it wasn’t.
“I don’t think so,” she said quietly. “You’ve had scandals and overdrawn bank accounts before without getting on a train. What makes this different?”
“I don’t want to talk about London. It’s so boring. What’s not boring is you holed up in this gorgeous house with Hugo Grovesmoor. Something you failed to mention to me, night after night after night. If that’s not a lie, Eleanor, I don’t believe I know what one is.”
“You were certain I would never encounter him,” Eleanor replied, and she was aware of the fact that she was trying much too hard to keep her voice even. Though she allowed the slightest hint of impatience, as if this was one of Vivi’s flights of fancy that she was called upon to temper. Because it should have been. “And I saw no reason to tell you of his comings and goings, because I hardly know when or if I’ll lay eyes on him.”
“You met him before today.”
“Yes, I met him. If you consider being presented to him like any other member of staff ‘meeting’ him.” She made quote marks in the air with her index fingers, and shook her head at her sister. “I think when you meet men it’s a little more momentous than when I do.”
She expected Vivi to argue. But instead, her sister only smiled. Which did not make Eleanor easy in any way, because she knew Vivi. There was always a scheme. There was always the next plan. The smile was never acquiescence.
Or worse, that little voice chimed in, she agrees.
When had she become so awful about her own sister?
And anyway, Vivi was changing the subject. “Why have I been shuffling about London, forced to spend my nights in a grotty bedsit, when you’ve been living it up like the landed gentry?”
“These are the governess’s quarters,” Eleanor said. She made herself smile. “This is what passes for a grotty flat to a duke.”
“You are in terrible, terrible trouble, big sister,” Vivi said, but if there was a storm, it had passed.
Once again, Eleanor saw before her the sister she knew. With a mischievous look in her golden eyes and an infectious grin. She blinked, doubting herself. It was as if she’d made her sister into some kind of enemy the moment she’d dared walk into the house—which said nothing nice about Eleanor. It said a whole lot, however, about jealousy and envy and a whole host of other, vile things that Eleanor didn’t want to admit were sloshing around inside of her.
Congratulations, she thought. You’re a terrible person.
“I know you have to work,” Vivi continued merrily. “I’ll take you to task later. In the meantime, I think I’ll help myself to that glorious bath.”
Eleanor stood there for a long while after her sister disappeared. After she heard the water turn on in the bathroom, splashing into the huge tub. She stood there and she tried to collect herself. She tried to remember the person she’d been before she’d come to this far-off place, and more, before she’d let Hugo touch her. Change her.
Make her into that jealous, dark-minded creature who was selfish beyond measure.
She told herself that it was over. That whatever the spell was that had held her in its grip these last weeks, Vivi’s appearance had broken it. It was time to wake up and remember what she was doing here.
She made the money. Vivi was the one who reeled in men like Hugo. And for good reason. She was the sort of girl who caused scandals that ended up in tabloid newspapers. She was someone.
Eleanor had never been anybody.
She forced herself to leave, then. She closed the door to her own rooms quietly behind her and headed into the hall. She had to find Geraldine and get back to her job, which was the only reason she was here. The fact of the matter was that Vivi should never have come here, but she had. And worse, she’d run straight into the Duke within moments of her arrival, when he could have thrown them both out.
But he hadn’t done that. And Eleanor knew why.
And
