“Because I have other… obligations here.”
“Such as?”
He counted off his responses on his fingers. “General debauchery, scandalizing dowagers, raking in gambling debts, you know, the usual.”
“Perhaps I could use your negative influence. How else can I engage in my own scandalous behavior?”
Henry snorted. “Scandalous? You? You’d get tossed off the tour for pointing out all the factual errors from the guidebooks.”
She flattened her lips. “I only did that one time, and the guide was incredibly irresponsible, treating a legend unsupported by historical record as though it were fact.”
He snickered and placed his hand over hers fondly. “I can’t believe you convinced me to attend these.”
“Youconvincedme, if you’ll recall. And I am always entertained when you join me, even if you don’t attend often.”
Henry’s chest tightened for a brief moment. “What would you think if we were to socialize without scandalizing the intellectual elite? You’re in half-mourning now, so we could attend the theater as long as you avoid speaking with people.”
“It is always my aim to avoid speaking to people.” She shuddered. “People are dreadful most of the time. Present company excluded, of course.”
“Then next week, we can–”
“I can’t,” Ellie said, her voice suddenly flat. “I have no friends left in society, and have no desire to make any new ones.”
He cupped his palm over her hand resting on his forearm. “You have me.”
“I know,” she said, humor edging her tone once more. “Besides, I would hate to keep you from your usual debauchery. Don’t you have more exciting plans than entertaining a boring old widow?”
His brows popped. “Old?”
She huffed out a sigh. “Fine, middling in age. What are yourplans, Henry? Something scandalous, I hope?”
Henry hesitated. “Alex is coming to visit later this week.”
“How lovely!” she declared, despite never having met Henry’s best friend. “I know you’ve been missing him. But why the worry?”
Henry sighed and continued walking, drawing Eleanor’s hand back to his arm. Despite having to practically stoop to take her arm, her presence bolstered him, made him feel stronger. “Alex has his own life in America now, with his wife, teaching. We haven’t seen each other in nearly three years. What if we have nothing in common anymore?”
“You had little in common before he left. Why would it change now?” Henry met his best friend Alex Carroway during their first year at Oxford. Ten years later, Alex had his doctorate and was a professor of mathematics at Harvard, while Henry possessed several partially completed degrees in a variety of disciplines and a reputation as a rake and general scoundrel.
“It’s the strangest thing seeing Alex so…” He trailed off, searching for the word.
“Happy?” Ellie suggested.
“That’s it.” Henry pushed open the door of Mitchling’s Tea Shop and held it while Ellie passed him, winding through the patrons until they found an empty table. The round mullioned window above them illuminated the tablecloths while specks of dust danced in the air. Despite the musty smell and surly patroness, Ellie loved it for its shelves covered in books and its airy shortbread, and Henry was willing to tolerate the atmosphere to oblige her.
“And why does his happiness bother you?” she asked, spreading her napkin over her lap.
“It doesn’t. I’m thrilled for him, and for Felicity.”
Ellie sighed. “Fern. Her name is Fern.”
Henry shot her an evil grin, although anxiety coursed through him as he recognized his mistake. “I knew that. I was just testing you.”
She sighed and gave him an amiable smile. “I’m certain you’ll fall back into conversation like nothing has changed. Besides, you have more in common than before, what with your engagement.”
He scowled and averted his gaze. “Theirs is a love match, whereas mine…”
Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you jealous of him, Henry?”
