might recover, and…”
Eloise pushed up to her feet, a tower of indignation, despite her slight frame and paleness, a muscle at her jaw ticking as she glared at Graham, silencing him without a word.
“What?” he asked with some hesitation.
“I am not sickly!” Eloise insisted, a fist clenching her side while the other clutched at her shawl. “I’m simply not well.”
Graham sat back roughly, giving his sweet aunt a sympathetic smile. “I know.”
Her look turned scolding. “Then stop treating me like I’m a fragile thing that will break if I fall! I love being here with Molly, and you need a life away from us, or nothing will get anywhere.”
“But…”
“No!” She softened her interjection by returning his smile. “I’ve never been the picture of health, Gray. You know this.”
He nodded, not seeing a need to elaborate on it. She had always been what they called ‘delicate’, even in her youth, which was likely what had made her his favorite aunt. She had always been able and willing to read to him as a child, and she’d watch him engage in whatever activities he wished to display. She had talked with Graham as an equal and for such a length of time when every other adult in his life had dismissed him, albeit kindly.
“But,” Eloise went on, tucking her shawl around her and brushing back a long, wispy tendril of hair, “I have learned how to live my life fully despite that. I do not stop my life, or pause it, to indulge in my moments of feeling indisposed, as so many other fine women likely do.”
“Oh, they do,” Graham assured her with a quick grin. “Quite dramatically.”
Eloise nodded in acknowledgement. “I am not going to stop minding Molly in favor of being unwell. And I forbid you to give up your life thinking you must be here to mind us both.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “Or use us as an excuse to avoid the world.”
Graham winced and wrenched his gaze away. He knew that was a particularly accurate barb but hearing it out loud made him feel more ashamed of it.
“It’s the comparison,” he admitted to her, sliding his hands along the armrests of the chairs.
“Between you and Matthew?”
He nodded and waited for Eloise to situate herself back in her seat.
She sighed once settled and offered a kind smile. “Comparisons are natural. You mustn’t blame people.”
“I don’t.” He shrugged. “It’s only that every single one of those comparisons would find me lacking. I am not as engaging as Matthew; I have not his easy temperament or his favorable looks. I’ll never be Matthew, and it’s clear to everyone, including myself, that he should be here instead of me.”
“You might feel that way, and there might be a handful of idiots in Society who would agree.” Eloise made a face that indicated clearly just what she thought about that. “But I believe you will find that the majority of people are quite used to the changing of a title from one holder to the next and anticipate an adjustment in the manners and personality of the title bearers.”
Graham had to smile. “I suppose you are right.”
She dipped her chin in acknowledgment. “Don’t live your life wondering what Matthew would have done, or thinking you are unsuited to your tasks. Own your place and make it what you wish. That is what is required of you, not fulfilling your brother’s plans.”
There was no sound then but the crackling of the fire, and there was something impossibly comforting in it. Something that burned the truth of the matter into his heart.
“If you feel you must invite guests to Merrifield to live up to something,” Eloise added softly, “then you are mistaken. If you regret doing so, revoke the invitations, by all means. There is no expectation in the minds of others that should matter to you.”
Graham smiled to himself and shook his head before Eloise had finished. “No… No, that had nothing to do with the invitations.”
“It didn’t?” Eloise sat forward, her brow furrowing as she stared at Graham. “Then what in the world were you thinking? This is not like you. I felt sure you were being pressured into doing this because of Matthew and Penelope, I didn’t…” She laughed to herself and clapped once. “Oh, this is divine. I’ve never been more surprised by anything in my life.”
“Are you going to let me explain myself?” Graham asked, his tone mild, but amused. “Or should I wait for your