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Eleanor rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Sarah?” Eleanor tried not to sigh, but it was getting late, and writing her correspondence took the last bit of energy she had.

Sarah gestured to the bed. “May I sit?”

Eleanor cocked her head to the side. “Why so formal?” It was then Eleanor noticed that Sarah was fidgeting and restless. Two attributes that showed themselves only when Sarah was nervous. That was enough to shake any thought of sleeping anytime soon from Eleanor’s mind.

“You’re not planning on running away again are you?” Eleanor stared at her sister, hoping to appear intimidating. Eleanor simply could not deal with that again—mostly because her dealing with it meant having to interact with the Duke, and that was something she couldn’t do.

Sarah shook her head and waved the question off. “No, of course not.”

Eleanor stood up and sat next to her sister on her bed. “Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?” She leaned into Sarah, giving her shoulder a little bump.

Sarah shook her head. “No. We’re fine. Just anxiously waiting my season to start.”

Eleanor shifted her weight to sit facing her sister. “Then why is there all this nervous energy around you?”

Sarah took a deep breath and forcefully pushed it out. Eleanor heaved her own sigh. Her sister and her dramatics.

“Do you want to marry Simon?”

Eleanor furrowed her brows. “Of course, I do. What kind of question is that?”

“I think an honest one.” Sarah said plainly.

“But why would you ask me that? Of course, I’m marrying Simon.” Eleanor shifted away and brushed her skirts of wrinkles.

Sarah shook her head. “That’s not what I asked. I asked, do you want to marry him?”

Nerves danced in Eleanor’s stomach. Images of the Duke clashed with Simon in her mind.

“Yes, of course, I want to marry him,” she said with a nonchalant laugh. At least, she hoped it was nonchalant.

Eleanor stood up; she felt the sudden need to move. She walked to her vanity and decided to start her nighttime routine by brushing out her hair.

Sarah watched her sister’s movements for a moment before speaking. “Liar.”

Eleanor slammed her hairbrush down on the vanity and turned. “What do you mean?”

It was Sarah’s turn to roll her eyes. “You wound me, Eleanor. I know you better than you know yourself. Something has been off, and I couldn’t put my finger on it, but you were acting strangely at the modiste, and I just can’t believe its nerves. You live to organize parties and events; you should have no problem working out the details of your own wedding.”

Eleanor’s eyes dropped. She was afraid of this. Their conversation with the Duke at breakfast affected her in ways she was not prepared for. Visiting the modiste right after was torture for her. Her mind kept running away with scandalous thoughts and scenarios so that she couldn’t focus on the task in front of her.

She was surprised her mother didn’t catch on and believed the lie that Eleanor was just overwhelmed with wedding planning. Eleanor looked up to see Sarah staring at her with a knowing eye. She should have known Sarah would’ve caught on.

Eleanor tried to smile. “Everything’s fine, Sarah. Trust me. All is right in the world, and soon I will be married and…” The words dried up in her mouth. She coughed, hoping to clear her throat. “And everything will be taken care of.”

“You speak of duty, but I don’t hear the one thing that should be considered when marrying.”

Eleanor looked at Sarah curiously. “And what is that?”

“Love.”

Eleanor barked a laugh. “Love? Oh, Sarah. We’ve talked about this. The time for love being the reason why I marry has passed. It is not in my stars that I shall marry for love, and I’m ok with that.”

Sarah cast a doubtful look Eleanor’s way.

“What?” Eleanor questioned. “Really, I’m fine with not marrying for love. We can’t all be lucky. Even Mama said that she wasn’t madly in love with Papa when they married. But look at how they ended up. They had a very happy life together. I believe that will happen with between Simon and me.”

Sarah continued to sit there, unimpressed.