no dungeon.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if your grandfather had one put in,” Julian said with a shiver.
I rang the bell and waited for the maid to come and let us in, but nothing happened. After a minute, I rang again, and I was just about to ring a third time when I finally heard footsteps approaching the door.
Eleanor herself opened it—looking nothing like I’d ever seen before. She was wearing jeans, for one thing. I didn’t even know she owned a pair. Granted, she still had on a button-down shirt, with a string of pearls around her neck. But she was holding a rag and a bottle of silver polish, and there was an actual kerchief holding her hair back.
“Hi,” I said, my mouth falling open in surprise. Was she cleaning?
“Shut your mouth, Connor. You’ll catch flies.”
I shut it automatically, before realizing I’d just done what she’d told me to. I opened it again on principle. Just because I was here to apologize didn’t mean she could order me around.
“We have your sweater,” I said, holding out the bag we’d put it in. “Came to drop it off.”
Eleanor peered into the bag with a frown, before her expression cleared. “Oh. I’d forgotten about that. Well, you can just leave it on the table here. Thank you for bringing it by.”
I frowned, but set the bag on the small, marble-topped table just inside the door that she’d indicated. Then I stepped back, unsure of how to bridge into everything else I needed to say.
Eleanor looked between me and Julian, her eyebrows knit in confusion. “Was that it?”
Did she have to sound so goddamn superior all the time? It was like trying to apologize to someone while they stomped on your toes. Julian, of course, came to my rescue.
“Do you have a moment to talk, Eleanor?” he asked mildly.
She watched us silently for a moment, then nodded, as if she’d settled an unspoken argument with herself. “I suppose I do. Come on in.”
She turned and began walking down the hall before we’d even crossed the threshold, so there was nothing to do but shut the door and follow. She took us to the same large room she’d met me in months ago, but the change was startling.
The room was filled with boxes, some taped shut and labeled, others with their tops still open, pillows and lamps and figurines exploding out in various states of chaos. There were linen cloths draped over the furniture, and discolored patches where pictures had been removed from the walls. Even the rugs had been rolled up into tight cylinders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She sat primly on the edge of a linen-draped loveseat, setting the silver polish and rag on a coffee table in front of her. She gestured around the room with a delicate hand.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
I opened my mouth to snap something back, but Julian touched my hand and I made myself exhale slowly instead. An apology. That was what I was here for. Not more arguments.
I sat down on the couch facing her, and Julian sat next to me. Eleanor looked at us expectantly and I slowly, deliberately, reached out and took Julian’s hand. Brought it over to my lap. Held it.
Eleanor raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Possibly fearing a years-long stalemate between Eleanor and me, each of us daring the other to speak first, Julian spoke again.
“Eleanor, we came here to—that is, Connor thought we should…”
He trailed off and gave me an encouraging smile. I took a deep breath. Best to just get it over with.
“I wanted to apologize,” I said. “I’ve said some things to you that weren’t very…kind. And made some assumptions about your motivations that weren’t fair. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, or said those things.”
Eleanor was quiet for a long moment, but finally, she gave me a small, tired smile.
“If you assumed the worst, it was because I gave you every reason to. Your grandfather was a hard man, and I didn’t do anything to make things easier for you when you were growing up.”
I frowned. “Still, I haven’t been very nice to you. I should have been more—”
“Connor, there’s truly no need.” Eleanor sighed. “I could blame your grandfather, say that he was the one who controlled everything. But the fact is, I could have done more—should have done more—to be involved with your mother after she married your father. To be involved with all of you boys.”
“You did what you