Miss Eden commented now and then upon some acquaintance she recognized amongst the crowd, but theeffortless rhythm of their conversation had vanished, leaving matters as disconcerting as his first attempt to approach her at the Dunnings’ ball. And recognizing the stark difference between now and then made the silence far more difficult to endure: it felt as though someone were sitting upon his chest.
Fingers drumming against his knee, Jonathan glanced at the orchestra pit where musicians were gradually reclaiming their seats, though there was still some time before the next act would begin.
Miss Eden had trusted him with honesty, had offered him an openness he hadn’t earned, and Jonathan had answered her confession by withholding his own. At the very least, she had earned some measure of truth in return.
“My father makes me anxious,” he admitted, drawing Miss Eden’s attention.
“Pardon?”
“You asked if I was distressed, and rather than be as forthright as you were, I brushed it aside. But I was out of sorts because my father is near.”
Miss Eden frowned. “I can well imagine that. I mean no disrespect, but your father is terrifying.”
“You are not the first to feel so, but I promise that he is far more kind-hearted than he appears,” he replied with a faint smile. Then drawing in a deep breath, Jonathan forced out the words, “I am afraid of disappointing him.”
“You needn’t fear on that score,” she replied, her gaze turning to the crowd as a whole. “A good many gentlemen spend their days in pleasure and idleness, never stirring themselves to do a fraction of the work you do every day. What Father would be disappointed by such an industrious son?”
With that graceful escape, Jonathan knew he could leave matters there. A modest agreement and perhaps some self-deprecating remark, and they could return to a far simpler conversation.
Instead, an explanation slipped free. Cautiously, at first. A few restrained comments regarding the pressures upon the business of late and the frustrations accompanying stalled developments and uncertain markets. Nothing particularly revealing or more personal than what he’d shared with others.
And Miss Eden simply listened. Not with the vague politeness society so often mistook for attentiveness, but with genuine focus that never wandered whilst he spoke. She asked no invasive questions and offered no foolish solutions. Only quiet sympathies and the occasional thoughtful observation that assured him she followed the meaning of what he said even when the particulars likely meant little to her.
Somehow that made matters worse. Or better. Jonathan could not decide which, for every time the conversation ought to have naturally ended, some further frustration escaped him despite his better judgment. The words came easier and easier, and though Jonathan quieted when the bell marked the end of the intermission, Miss Eden urged him forward, fully ignoring the opening strains of the final act.
Though he had shared many thoughts and frustrations with her whilst they’d wandered Regent’s Park, those confessions had been more abstract in nature—the general idiosyncrasies of business and projects. But despite his better judgment, Jonathan found himself wandering into territory that had been explored by only himself.
Jonathan lowered his voice so it would not carry, and Miss Eden drew close, listening to every morsel. They sat there as Alfredo and Violetta’s story continued, working through its tragic ending, and Jonathan became dimly aware that he was speaking with a degree of honesty he rarely permitted himself even with his family.
And even when it was clear he was simply returning to the same thoughts again and again, restating the same troubles, Jonathan couldn’t stop himself from revisiting them, and it was a good, long while before he finally said everything he felt he needed to say.
Or everything he ought to say.
“Once more, I find myself wishing for advice to give,” whispered Miss Eden. “But I fear I know little about such things and haven’t anything of use to say.”
Jonathan’s gaze remained fixed upon the stage a moment longer, though he couldn’t say what unfolded there. Violetta sang somewhere beneath the orchestra’s mournful swell whilst candlelight flickered across painted scenery, yet all of it seemed strangely distant.
“You already have,” he replied quietly. “I hadn’t realized how much I needed to speak it aloud until I did.”
Miss Eden turned toward him slightly at that, surprise softening her features. “Truly?”
A faint huff escaped him. “I spend so much of my time attempting to solve every difficulty myself that the whole affair circles endlessly about inside my skull. Saying the thoughts aloud forces them into some semblance of order.”
A slight furrow marred her brow. “But surely you have others to speak to concerning these matters? I understand being hesitant to share with your father, but you seem very close with your brother. Can you not speak with him about your concerns?”
“I have. To a degree,” murmured Jonathan. “But assuming he wouldn’t feel obligated to share with father, it would only weigh down his spirits as this is his future at stake as well. I cannot place this burden on him.”
“And meanwhile, you burden yourself,” said Miss Eden, frowning.
Something shifted unexpectedly inside Jonathan at those words. Nothing dramatic. No thunderbolt revelation or sudden transformation. A quiet awareness settled through him as he looked at Miss Eden seated beside him beneath the dim glow of the theater lamps whilst tragedy unfolded upon the stage below.
Throughout the evening she had listened to him with a patience and kindness he had done precious little to deserve, and Jonathan found himself suddenly, acutely aware of how long it had been since another person had looked at him with such uncomplicated regard. And the realization left him oddly unsteady.
“My thanks, Miss Eden,” he said quietly.
She blinked, visibly startled by the sincerity in the words. “I have done nothing.”
“No,” Jonathan murmured, his gaze lingering upon her a moment too long before he forced it reluctantly back to the stage. “You have done quite a lot.”
