“He’s dying, he’s been dying for… for ayear, it seems. He’s been so very ill, and none of them told me. They kept it from me. Apparently, they would have continued to keep it from me, if it hadn’t’ been for you insisting on telling me.”
He bit his lip, looking away. “I’m sorry. I feel as though I’ve brought this all on your head.”
“No, no. It was already coming. There was nothing I could do about it; I was just stupid and oblivious. Stupid, stupid,stupid!”
She dropped down into a sitting position on the stairs, knees up, head in her hands. A headache had descended on her, like a brick dropped from a height onto her skull, and it was pounding away angrily.
“Eleanor… Eleanor, please. Look at me.”
She dragged her gaze out of her hands and did just that. He had come forward, one knee down on one of the stairs, putting them more or less at eye level.
She felt as though her breath was caught in her throat. Hazel green eyes, the Willenshire eyes, glittered in his face. Maybe the poets were right when they said you could get lost in the eyes of somebody you loved.
Love! How can I think of love, or of Henry Willenshire, or about anything beyond the fact my father is dying upstairs. He’s dying, and nobody told me. He’sdying, and nobody is letting me see him. He’s dying, and I’m sitting here on the stairs, talking to a man I’m falling in love with, when I should be with him.
What sort of daughter am I?
“You need to leave,” Eleanor choked out abruptly, staggering to her feet. Henry flinched, eyes wide. Those lovely, lovely eyes that Eleanor didn’t dare look at in case she lost her head again.
“I… what? Eleanor, what have I done? I don’t understand. If you wish I hadn’t told you, then… well, I only tried to do what was best for you.”
Her head shot up again.
“What’sbestfor me?”
He realized his mistake too late.
“I didn’t mean that,” Henry tried, backing away, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “I only meant to say…”
“I don’t care what you meant. You don’t know what’s good for me. How could you? How dare you say that you know what’sbestfor me? You don’t understand and you never will.”
“I’m sorry, Eleanor, truly I am. I know I’ve upset you, I can see that, but I only meant… I mean, what I’m trying to say is…”
“Stop it.Stop it! Get out.”
“Eleanor…”
She shook her head vigorously, making the headache worse, making the room spin.
“Get out. Get out, Henry! Out, out,out!”
The last word rose to a scream, echoing around the hallway. They must have heard it upstairs.
Henry stood there in silence, arms hanging by his side.
“Very well,” he said quietly. “As you wish.”
And just like that, he walked out of the door, closing it behind him, and she was left alone.
Eleanor crumpled down onto the stairs and burst into tears.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Henry nearly climbed into the Fairfax carriage to go home, remembering only at the last minute and veering aside.
Of course, Charles would probably not object to Henry using the carriage, but that really wasn’t the point.
He felt sick. Eleanor’s words echoed in his head.
