Page 81 of The Duke's Sinful Deal
The words landed so suddenly that Arabella stared at her in silence.
“Annul it,” Eleanor said, now with clearer force, as though the thought had only just taken hold and already seemed the only sensible course. “If this was born of panic, then put an end to it before it settles into permanence.”
Arabella’s breath caught. She had not realized until that instant how sharply the suggestion would strike.
It was Maxwell who answered first.
“That will not be possible.”
His tone was calm, quiet enough that it did not break the room so much as settle into it, but the certainty of it made Eleanor turn toward him at once. Her anger, briefly redirected, sharpened visibly.
“And why,” she asked, “is it not possible?”
Maxwell met her gaze without flinching. “Because the marriage has been lawfully solemnized,” he said. “And because annulment would not serve your sister any better than the scandal we sought to prevent.”
Eleanor’s expression remained hard, but her attention flicked back to Arabella. It was only for a moment, yet it was enough. Her gaze caught on Arabella’s face, on the lingering color there that had not entirely faded since breakfast, and something in her expression shifted. The anger did not vanish, but it altered, edged now with dawning comprehension.
Arabella wished at once that the floor might open beneath her.
Eleanor closed her eyes briefly, then let out a long, restrained breath. “I see,” she said, though the words were not easy.
Maxwell stepped more fully into the conversation then, not advancing so far as to dominate it, but enough that his presence became deliberate rather than peripheral.
“I owe you an apology,” he said. “Not for marrying your sister, but for the unfortunate circumstances under which it occurred. I would have preferred that matters be otherwise.”
Eleanor said nothing, though her gaze remained fixed on him.
Maxwell continued in the same controlled tone. “I understand your concern. It is not misplaced. But I can assure you that our decision was not made lightly.” He glanced once toward Arabella, then back to Eleanor. “Your sister may act quickly when she believes it necessary, but she is not careless in the way you fear.”
Arabella felt her throat tighten unexpectedly.
“She acted,” Maxwell said, “because she believed inaction would do harm not only to herself, but to you, your husband, and your household. She wished to keep any whisper of scandal from touching your family.”
For the first time since they had entered the room, Eleanor looked genuinely stunned. It did not last long, but it was there, clear enough to see before she mastered herself again.
Arabella could not stop herself from looking at Maxwell then. Gratitude rose so swiftly it nearly ached. He had said exactly what she had tried, clumsily and too late, to make Eleanor understand.
Her sister looked back at her, and the fierce line of her mouth softened by a fraction. “You thought of us first,” she said, not quite a question.
Arabella nodded. “Of course I did.”
A silence followed, but it was no longer as sharp as before.
Maxwell inclined his head slightly, as if sensing the shift before anyone named it. “I believe,” he said, “that you would speak more freely without me present.”
Eleanor did not object.
Arabella turned toward him, and for one brief moment, all the noise in her mind quieted. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He answered only with the smallest nod before withdrawing, leaving the room with the same steadiness he had brought into it. The door closed behind him, and the silence that followed felt different from the one before. Less threatening. More fragile.
Eleanor stood very still for a few seconds, the letters lowering at last to her side. When she spoke again, the anger remained, but it no longer burned so wildly.
“I should not have said you did not think,” she said. “That was unfair.”
Arabella blinked, the tension in her shoulders easing by slow degrees. “You were angry.”
“Angry? No, Arabella. I was not only angry. I wasdevastated,” Eleanor corrected, and the honesty of it made Arabella’s chest ache. “I am still angry. But more than that, Arabella, I am heartsick that I was not there.”
