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“You are quite terrible, dear husband.”

“Nobody can hear you now, Duchess.” His voice was a low murmur, and she couldn’t deny her yearning for him. “You do not have to use such affectionate terms.”

“And what if I wish to use them anyway?”

He blanched and pulled back, once again tense. A muscle twitched in his cheek, and she wondered if she had flustered him or annoyed him— again . She thought of the space between them, of the ton’s claims of it being like a wall separating them.

She thought of the connecting door between their rooms at Everdawn Hall and the thin wall separating them in the townhouse.

She thought of pressing her head to the wall, just as she had done last night.

“Have any of you read the tale of Thisbe and Pyramus? They were separated by a wall, too.”

Eleanor sought out Lord Avington, so near to her parents that she had to look past them. She could not help her thoughts, not while they raced as dinner was served and eaten.

So many things were tangled. Charlotte’s whereabouts, Lord Belgrave and his spies across London, her parents and their ignorance, Spencer and his confusing ways.

Spencer was wrong.

There was a wall between them, but he was the one who had put up by shutting her out. And investigating business matters was not the only way Eleanor could get involved.

She met her mother’s eyes across the dining table and discreetly nodded toward the hallway, indicating that she needed a word.

Fearing being ignored, Eleanor kept her hopes low. But to her surprise, her mother nodded. A hand on her arm stopped her as she made to stand up once her plate was empty.

“I do not think that is a good idea,” Spencer warned her quietly.

“I have to speak with her while I am here,” she insisted. “I will not change my mind.”

Spencer hesitated long enough for her to meet his eyes. He gave a reluctant nod. “Then I will give you the privacy you need to speak with her, but I will be right here if you need me.”

His defense of her when they had last been at Quinley Manor proved that he would be there for her.

Duty. Protection. Safety.

That was what Spencer had promised. He had not rescued her from the convent because he cared for her. No, he had rescued her to stop the nuns from harming her. He could have done that for anyone.

Eleanor pushed away her confusing feelings and went to meet with her mother in the hallway. She thought she would be more nervous, even more angry, as she faced her for the first time since her wedding.

“Mother,” she greeted stiffly.

“Eleanor.” Her mother’s face was tight in a way she had not noticed the last time she’d seen her. “I do hope you are not causing problems for His Grace.”

Eleanor scoffed, glancing away and then back at her. “Your first assumption about me is negative. Of course. Do you not care to enquire about my well-being?” Her resentment rose, seeping into her tone.

Her mother schooled her features into icy politeness as she smiled tightly. “How are you, Eleanor?”

Eleanor’s heart gave a painful lurch.

Who was this woman? She could not be her mother.

Once upon a time, they had gotten along so well. Her mother had guided her well through her debut, and before that, she had encouraged her without tearing her down.

Her parents had always held her to high standards, as she was their only child, but she had never felt like a disappointment or a burden.

Not until they had sent her away.

“I am well,” she answered. “My life is… very agreeable. You must be proud that your only child has become the Duchess of Everdawn.”

“My only child carries the shame of her scandal from three years ago,” her mother snapped, before composing herself. “You might have a new title, but the scandal will always be a shadow over your head.”

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. She tensed up when she heard footsteps in the hallway. Her father emerged from the dining room, his cheeks flushed with the brandy he had been nursing along with some business acquaintances.

She regarded them both, not bothering to give her father a chance to greet her. Or to not greet her. Her mother had shown enough reluctance.

Instead, she confronted them both. “You never asked for my side of the story. Of what truly happened that night.”

“We did not need to,” her father said gruffly. “What other story is there? You were—you were shamed and caught by your own doing. It takes dignity to speak of it now, so do not?—”

“Why did you send me there?” Eleanor asked, barely managing not to wince at his jab. “To St. Euphemia’s. We do have relatives abroad, do we not?”

“Yes,” her mother said smoothly. “Your father’s cousin lives in the Caribbean with his widowed mother.”

“Then why not send me to them? If I brought you both so much shame, why didn’t you send me further away?” Her voice was remarkably steady despite the anger simmering in her blood.

All she could notice was how her parents barely kept their disgust and judgment out of their eyes as they regarded her.

The silence was unnerving. Eleanor drew in a deep breath.

Then, her mother spoke, her words careful this time. It was the same tone she used when she turned down a suitor on Eleanor’s behalf, not wanting to say something indelicate and instead giving a hint of dismissal.

“Lord Belgrave was, and has been, generous with us,” she began.

“He came to us heartbroken and understandably angry. He was regretful that he had to call off your engagement. He did not let his frustration out, and we commended him for that. We were grateful. He wanted to make you his marchioness, Eleanor, but you were a foolish, little girl.”

She bared her teeth in a snarl.

“You disgraced our good family name. Simply sending you to another relative did not feel like punishment enough. Lord Belgrave recommended St. Euphemia’s as a way to teach you the consequences of your actions, but it also allowed us to receive updates about your life.

He promised to keep an eye on you. Be grateful, Eleanor.

He could have been far, far angrier. You took everything away from him with your reckless whoring. ”

Her mother had never spewed such venom at her before, had never spoken to her with such bitter disgust. Eleanor could only stare in shock before her fury overtook the hurt.

And she slowly realized exactly what had happened.

“Lady Quinley,” she said coldly.

The woman before her was no longer her mother, but a stranger. She was hardly anything more, for how easily and quickly she had sent Eleanor away.

“I hope you live a very long life in a very empty house. Because I will be happy as the Duchess of Everdawn, and you will not get to associate yourself with me in any friendly, familiar way. If you will not hear me out and believe the accusations over the daughter you raised and know, then I will not waste my words trying to convince you. For three years, I dreamed of being embraced, of being welcomed home, of being listened to, but I do not need those foolish comforts anymore. I am done, and I will be happier without your presence or pressure in my life.”

She turned her attention to her father and continued, “Lord Quinley, I hope you look into your future business associates more thoroughly than you did Lord Belgrave.”

She could not risk saying too much, but she had said enough for the bitterness in her heart to ebb.

As she turned her back on her parents, she let herself feel the horror of what she had just learned.

Returning to the dining room, she approached her husband.

Quietly but urgently, she said, “May we take some fresh air on the terrace?”

Spencer stood up without question, his hard gaze searching her face as if looking for anything she didn’t reveal.

He glanced at the doorway as Lord and Lady Quinley reentered, Lady Quinley’s face was impassive and pinched as ever, but he followed Eleanor instead of pressing the matter.

Once outside, she turned to him and moved closer, finding a strange comfort in his warmth and strength.

“You were the first person to listen to me in all those years,” she said, her voice soft in the dark evening, “and I need you to listen to me now. You do not want me involved, but you must let me in from time to time. It was Lord Belgrave who suggested I be sent to St. Euphemia’s.

He urged my parents to send me there and offered to keep an eye on me—which he did. ”

Her hands trembled slightly as she continued.

“I thought my mother may have had ties with the convent, but it was him all along, still pulling the strings, still guiding the winning hand to where he wanted it. Lord Belgrave was not just cleaning up a scandal my parents wanted to be rid of. He was— is —handpicking the place where women disappear. It makes sense. Women who are shunned from Society, who are no longer wanted by their families, who wear veils of shame—they would not be missed. They are perfect, vulnerable targets.”

She swallowed thickly. “The convent is so terrible—perhaps on purpose—so when the women are offered these tantalizing lives abroad, they will jump at the chance.”

Spencer’s face was stoic, but she saw the fury in his eyes. “And if they do not, then nobody will know when they were forcibly taken.”

“And the sisters get to claim they cleansed filthy souls,” Eleanor added.

“It is their perfect, terrible stage. And I was only spared due to my former engagement. The other women would never know until it was too late, but I would have. I would have seen through the tricks and ploys. It was too risky to send me away. Belgrave had to keep an eye on me to make sure I never left St. Euphemia’s. ”

Dread coiled in her gut at how public they were now, how out in the open. She feared that Lord Belgrave did not attend these events because he was purposefully keeping her guessing. That something bigger was afoot.

“I will protect you,” Spencer promised, drawing closer to her. “I swear I will ensure that no harm comes to you.”

“And what of the other women?” she whispered, her heart heavy for the lives she had never been able to save.

She thought of the woman who had extended kindness in the shape of salve for her ruined knees, the way she had disappeared. Countless other faces she had passed in the prayer hall and never seen again.

How many had been transported in secret yet right in plain sight?

A wave of dizziness assaulted her, and she swayed slightly. She was aware of strong arms wrapping around her, but she could not breathe, not as she spiraled, thinking of all those women.

No more.

No more would suffer an awful fate.

“Give me a day,” Spencer told her. “The masquerade ball is tomorrow night, but tomorrow I will meet with a lead I have been in contact with before, and I will get more information. We will see justice delivered to those wretched men. They will be brought to their knees. I won’t shut you out, Eleanor. ”

His eyes met hers, honest and open.

“I cannot promise no more walls, but… I will try to keep them lowered.”