Page 26 of The Scottish Duke's Deal

“You chose Norman.”

“I also chose survival.”

Eleanor’s chest ached. “And this is what I must do to survive? Marry someone I don’t love? For the sake of appearances?”

“It’s not about love,” Norman said, too harshly.

Eleanor turned on him. “Then what is it about? Reputation? Your guilt? Making it right?”

Norman didn’t respond. His mouth tightened, his eyes flicked toward the window, and the candlelight etched new lines into his face. Eleanor realized with a start that he looked older than he had in Greece. Tired.

Kitty took her hand. “You’re not alone, dearest. I wish the world were kinder to us. But unless you’re willing to disappear from society forever, go live in the country or abroad, marriage is the only path left.”

Eleanor said nothing. Her gaze fell to the fire, where a log hissed and collapsed inward. The quiet was loud. Even the clock seemed hesitant to tick.

“I could never leave,” she said after a long moment. “Everything I’ve ever known is here. My family. My friends. London is all I have.”

Kitty’s thumb stroked the back of her hand. “Then we make a plan.”

“A plan,” she echoed, hollowly.

“Tomorrow you’ll wear the blue silk. It brings out your eyes. I’ll stay near, make introductions. Norman will speak to the gentlemen. We’ll draw attention, gently but firmly.”

Norman exhaled. “And if someone respectable asks to court you… we accept.”

Eleanor’s lips parted. “Just like that.”

“Yes.”

“And what if it’s someone like the Earl of Gifford? What if I make the wrong choice?”

“You won’t,” Kitty said. “Not this time.”

“I didn’t choose Lord Gifford either,” Eleanor whispered. “He was chosen for me. And when I finally found the courage to speak—to say I didn’t want him—he made certain I would never be heard again.”

Kitty looked stricken. “You’re right.”

Eleanor blinked.

“We let them decide so much of our lives,” Kitty continued. “We’re punished for changing our minds. For speaking. For fighting back.” She smiled then, small and sad. “And if we don’t fight, we’re punished anyway.”

Eleanor felt something loosen in her chest—something dangerous. “Then tell me, Kitty. Why must I pay the price for what Lord Gifford did? Why must I live my life with the consequences of his actions?”

“Because this is the world,” Kitty said simply. “Because you were born a lady, and that comes with rules you never agreed to. Because unless we burn it all down—which I do not recommend—the only way out is through.”

The silence returned. This time, it was Kitty who broke it.

“You know I left London once when I was younger than you. I thought I could live abroad forever. Venice, Paris, the Nile. And I did for years. But the longer I stayed away, the more I felt likea ghost. No roots. No place to land. It sounds like freedom, but it isn’t. Not always.”

Eleanor drew in a breath. Her eyes burned though no tears came. It was too big for tears.

Kitty gave a wan smile. “You said it yourself. You couldn’t leave your family. And I know how that feels. I couldn’t leave mine either.”

Norman said nothing. His hands were clenched at his sides. The fire hissed again.

“Tomorrow,” he said finally, his voice taut. “We put an end to this. One way or another.”

Eleanor didn’t reply. She didn’t have to. The room was quiet again, but her heart pounded loud in her chest. Tomorrow, she would smile. Tomorrow, she would charm. Tomorrow, she would find a man willing to fix her.