Eleanor just had time to thinkah, no,before she undoubtedly tumbled backwards down the stairs, head over heels, bits of paper and sploshes of ink flying everywhere.
She hit something warm and firm instead, arresting her fall. A pair of arms went around her, steadying the wobbling pile of boxes.
“Careful, there.”
Her heart sank. Lord Henry. Of course it was wretched Lord Henry.
Eleanor staggered up the last few steps, breathing a sigh of relief when she reached the landing. Setting the boxes down, she put her hands on her hips and whirled around to face him.
“I was managing myself, thank you very much.”
Lord Henry lifted an infuriatingly calm eyebrow. “Really? It looked to me as if you were about to plunge headlong downstairs.”
She narrowed her eyes.
The man looked annoyingly cool in a discreet burgundy suit and an ice-blue waistcoat, a cravat loosely knotted at his neck.
What right did he have to look so cool and handsome at this hour of the morning?
“I would have managed,” she said curtly. It was a lie, and they both knew it. “What did you want, Lord Henry?”
He didn’t take offence at her tone, which Eleanor knew in her heart was a little sharper than he deserved.
“I had some matters to discuss with Mr. Fairfax, if it’s convenient.”
Eleanor sighed, tucking a few escaped strands of hair behind her ear. Shocking how easily she could start to look disheveled after such a short time in the office.
“He’s in his office, but he’s rather… rather discomposed today.”
“Oh?”
Eleanor gave up on discretion. “He’s ill, Lord Henry, even though he doesn’t particularly like to admit it. He’s ill and out of sorts, and I’m not sure it’s a good idea to talk business with him now.”
She’d said things like this to various other businessmen and factory owners before. They’d generally smiled indulgently, and grandly informed her that they would ‘go and have a word anyway’, and then swanned past her into Charles’ office, closing the door behind them.
Lord Henry only sighed, raking his fingers through his hair.
“Oh, I see. Well, that’s a pity. I suppose I can talk it over with you, then? I shouldn’t like to make Mr. Fairfax more ill.”
Eleanor blinked. Even now, it was a surprise to be taken seriously so easily.
“Yes, I suppose so. I have no objection to that. Take a seat in my office, and I’ll rustle up some tea.”
“No need,” he said easily. “You have these boxes to manage – I shall get the tea.”
He walked off, whistling, leaving Eleanor standing baffled on the landing.
***
“He makes a decent cup of tea,” Eleanor conceded. It felt as though the compliment was being drawn out of her by force.
She and Marcia were sitting together in the parlour. The day was nearly over, and it was well past polite visiting hours, but of course Eleanor and Marcia were long past such frivolities.
Charles had retired to bed, grey with exhaustion. The worry Eleanor had felt all day was exploding into something more solid. Could it be part of a deeper, underlying problem?
No, surely not. Charles’ physician was none other than Jonathan, who was a diligent and well-reputed doctor. If there was a problem, Jonathan would have found it.
Eleanor swallowed hard, putting the worry about her father out of her mind.
