Eleanor offered mock applause. “At least in my scenario, you were involved in a gallant rescue.”
“That is true.” His wink sent pleasant shivers down her spine. “Are you hoping to marry this season?”
Ellie sat up, or attempted to; the brandy was making her body warm and loose, and her attempt at good posture only made her slip deeper into the cushions. “Of course. What other option do I have?”
“Not marry?” he suggested.
She opened her eyes wide in mock amazement. “Brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that? I could have spared myself hours in the modiste if I had simply declared myself a spinster at eighteen years of age.”
Henry laughed and poured each of them another helping of brandy. “I have been called many things, but brilliant is not one of them.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You were brilliant in helping me escape the meddling aunties.”
“I have lots of practice.”
She leaned forward. “You didn’t answer the question for yourself. Are you hoping to marry?”
Henry exhaled slowly. “I suppose I have to, at some point, for the future of the title and all. I don’t particularly care, but… It means so much to him.” He tilted his glass, watching the light from the fire play in the cut crystal. “My father has a business partner in Edinburgh, and he wants me to marry his daughter.”
Her stomach soured. “Do you enjoy her company?”
“I’ve only met her once, and she spent the entire time staring at her toes.” He shook out his shoulders, as if casting off the topic of conversation entirely. “Favorite way to pass the time?”
Dreaming about you. Writing you letters I never send.“Reading. You?”
He shrugged. “I like to draw.”
She perked up. “Would you show me something you drew?”
“Oh, no, my lady. My sketches would shock your delicate sensibilities.”
Clearing her throat, she hoped her face was not as red as it felt. “Favorite artist?”
“Besides myself? Da Vinci. You?”
“Caravaggio.” She fixed him with an appraising look. “What is something you wish you could change about yourself?”
Henry’s eyes darkened for a moment before piercing her with a rakish grin. “I wouldn’t be so devilishly charming. It gets taxing fighting off my admirers.”
Eleanor attempted to look irritated, but only succeeded in giggling and blushing. “I wish I didn’t have to wear spectacles.”
Leaning forward, Henry extended his hand. “Can I see them?”
She gave him a half-smile before removing them from her nose and placing them in his open palm.
“Adorable, but smudged.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, then buffed the lenses. “Your greatest wish.”
Eleanor’s heart tumbled in her chest. “What do you mean?”
“If you were granted one wish, with no consequences, what would it be?”
A mother who remembers who she is, and I am her daughter.
A husband who loves me.
You.
Henry lifted the lenses to the light to check their cleanliness, then placed them back on her nose, guiding the earpieces in place. “A place in the world, something with purpose,” she finally said, the intimacy of the gesture making her voice weak.
