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“Go away, Nathan, I…” Eleanor stopped short. She stared at him with wide eyes, looking him up and down. “How...how did you…?”
Her mouth opened and closed, reminding Nathan of a fish in his carp pond. Now she was looking at him like she had never seen him before. Nathan grabbed her shoulders and gave her a shake.
“Eleanor, what’s wrong? How did I what?”
“You...how did you get here before me? I left before you.” Eleanor stared at his attire. “And how did you get changed so quickly?”
“What are you talking about? You were at my home?”
“And you just walked into your drawing room. Lady Vanity fainted at the sight of you, and you…” Eleanor swallowed. “You told me to leave while you looked after her.”
He had just walked in while Eleanor was with his mother? Nathan was confused.
“I don’t understand. I’ve been here talking to Sister Cecilia for the last two hours. I left before Mother had even risen.”
“But…” Eleanor’s mouth opened and closed again. “But that’s not possible. You’re at your house in Brixton.”
“Clearly, I’m not.”
This was not making any sense. If Nathan was here, nowhere near his home, then who was with his mother? As far as Nathan was aware, he didn’t know anyone who looked exactly like him, or enough that Eleanor thought it was him.
What the hell was going on?
“Come on.” Nathan steered Eleanor across the road, neatly sidestepping a horse and cart as it trundled along, ignoring the abuse from the driver. “We need to go back. Quickly.”
Whatever was going on, Vanity knew something, and Nathan was going to make her talk. Along with the intruder, whoever he was. If he was still there, Nathan was planning on getting answers from him too.
* * *
Vanity stirred. Her head was still spinning, but she was coming back to herself. Had she just fainted? It had been a while since she had done that. But why? What had caused her to faint? Surely, drinking tea with Lady Eleanor wouldn’t result in fainting.
Then Vanity heard a familiar voice, and she knew why.
“Wake up, Mother. I know you’re not unconscious anymore. I can see your eyes moving.”
Vanity debated pretending to lie still, but Eric already knew. She couldn’t do it forever. She opened her eyes and saw that she was lying on the couch. Eric must have picked her up from the floor. Now he was leaning over her, his face inches from hers with a dark scowl.
God, a face so much like Nathan’s. And yet it wasn’t. Nathan had never made Vanity feel so frightened.
“What...where…?”
“I sent Eleanor away.” Eric smirked. There was no mirth in that smile. “I didn’t think you wanted her to hear this.”
“What...but…” Vanity sat up, Eric barely easing back. She felt pinned in. “What are you doing here?”
“I got your message.”
Her message. Oh. That one. Vanity had hoped that a simple message would make this stop. Especially after almost losing her son and future daughter-in-law. Vanity liked Eleanor. She really did, and Nathan clearly loved her. Vanity had taken one look at them and known that she couldn’t hide this any longer. Nathan deserved to know, and Eric needed to back off. She couldn’t do this.
“So, you decided to barge into my house without notice?”
“Best effect. I didn’t want you to be on your guard.” Eric scowled. “You’re not going to tell them anything,Mother.”
“I am.” Vanity resisted the urge to shrink back at Eric’s fury. “I can’t hide this anymore, Eric. You were foolish to think this would work, and I was foolish thinking that I had something to fear. But I don’t have anything to fear anymore, except losing my son. Whatever you do to me can’t hurt me.”
Eric blinked. For the first time since he walked into her drawing room a year ago, he looked genuinely baffled. Vanity wondered if anyone had ever stood up to him before. No one had ever stood up to the man who had raised him.
Except Vanity. She had stood up to him, and from the way Eric treated her, his guardian had never forgotten it.
