“I wrote to you.”
“You did not.”
Julian stared.
“Yes, I did.”
“Five days.”
“What?”
“You wrote for five days.”
“Then nothing.”
His expression changed.
“That is not true.”
Eliza laughed.
The sound was small and hard.
“Then perhaps the post has developed opinions about unsuitable women.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“I wrote eleven letters.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“Eleven.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I received three.”
He stared.
The street seemed to narrow around them.
Julian looked toward the open front door.
Then back to Eliza.
“Did my mother arrive before the letters stopped?”
Eliza did not answer immediately.
She did not need to.
His face answered for her.
“Six days after you left.”
He closed his eyes.
“Damn.”
“Your Grace.”
The title came deliberately.
His eyes opened.
“Do not.”
“What?”
“Call me that.”
“You are a duke.”
“You have never called me that when we were alone.”
“We are not alone.”
His eyes moved toward the carriage driver.
The driver looked at a wall.
Julian stepped closer.
“Eliza.”
She lifted her chin.
He stopped himself from reaching for her arm.
Good.
“Where are the letters you did receive?”
“Packed.”
“Were the seals intact?”
She frowned.
“Yes.”
“You are certain?”
“Yes.”
Julian thought.
Then:
“The last letter I received from you said Beatrice had recovered, my mother had arrived, and you were uncertain whether remaining in the house was appropriate.”
“Yes.”
“I answered the same day.”
“What did you say?”
His expression shifted.
Something vulnerable entered.
“That I was returning sooner.”
Eliza’s heart betrayed her.
One hard beat.
Then:
“You did not.”
“I tried.”
“My tenant meeting became a legal dispute over water rights.”
“I could not leave without signing the settlement.”
“I sent word.”
“To whom?”
“Wren.”
Eliza looked toward the door.
Julian’s face darkened.
“Did she tell you?”
“No.”
He stepped toward the house.
Eliza spoke sharply.
“Julian.”
He stopped.
First name.
The anger in his shoulders softened fractionally.
She continued.
“If you go inside now and begin shouting at servants, you will solve nothing.”
“My letters disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“And someone expelled you from my home.”
“Your mother.”
His face became colder.
“That is not her decision.”
“It became her decision because you were absent.”
He looked at her.
“That is unfair.”
“Yes.”
She nodded.