“Clearly.” Tears burned behind Elinor’s eyes, but she was far too angry to allow them to escape. “I was wrong about you, too, Mr. Hawkins. I think you and Penelope are perfectly suited to one another, after all!”
She stalked towards the door, head held high and vision blurred. Sir Jessamyn let out a cheep of protest as they neared the house, but she ignored it. He nudged his face against her cheek, trying to push her back towards the tree and the rest of the outdoors.
“Later, Sir Jessamyn,” she whispered under her breath. “Later.”
Later, when they were alone, she would sit outside with him in the fresh air and enjoy the beautiful day...withoutany other company. First, though, she had to sweep past Mr. Hawkins in a way that made her disdainperfectlyunmistakable, for the sake of her remaining pride.
“What did you just say?” Mr. Hawkins’s voice sounded strained as she approached, but then, her heartbeat was thumping so loudly in her ears, it muffled every other sound.
Still, Elinor tilted her chin another half-inch higher, the better to look down her nose at him despite their difference in height. “Iwas talking to my dragon,” she said. “You and I have nothing left to say to each other, Mr. Hawkins.”
She swept straight past him, ignoring the unfairly appealing warmth that rose from his body and the soft, swishing sound that her long skirts made as they brushed against his boots. She pulled the door open.
He pushed it closed with one hand.
She gaped up at him. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
“Youjust called your dragon Sir Jessamyn.”
They stood only half a foot apart. His strong arm, holding the door shut, nearly brushed against her shoulder. His broad chest rose and fell with his quick breaths.
Elinor’s own chest felt so tight that she could barely breathe. “You must have misheard me.”
“I don’t believe I did.” He leaned closer, his hazel gaze fiercely intent. “You called him Sir Jessamyn. That was the name of Elinor Tregarth’s dragon.”
She felt herself leaning forward, tugged by invisible threads like magnets drawing her into his warmth. They stood so close now that she could feel his warm breath against her face. Her voice came out as thin as gossamer. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“Did you paint those markings on his face to confuse people? If you have Elinor Tregarth’s dragon—”
“Yes?” She only shaped the word with her lips. She couldn’t summon enough air to speak out loud.
“She would never have given her dragon to a stranger for any reason.” Mr. Hawkins’s voice hardened; his face drew into a scowl. “What have you done to her, Mrs. De Lacey?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Elinor jerked backwards. Air flooded back into her chest in a rush that left her reeling. “How absurd can you possibly be?”
“Nothingwould have induced Elinor Tregarth to betray her dragon’s trust.” Benedict Hawkins stood as stiff as a soldier, glaring down at her. “He was no mere toy or ornament to her. She trulylovedhim, unlike any other Society lady I’ve met. There is no payment so high that she would have sold him to you!”
“Then it is a good thing I never asked her to,” Elinor snapped. “This ismydragon, no matter what his name might be, and those markings on his face are not painted, they are real. You may feel them for yourself if you require any proof.”
He frowned down at Sir Jessamyn, who reared his own head back on his long neck to return the inspection with open curiosity. “Why does he have more markings now than he did this morning?”
Elinor ground her teeth. “You will have to think up an answer for yourself. I have nothing more to say to you, Mr. Hawkins—and as you have already insulted me in every possible manner,youcan have nothing more to say to me, either.” She narrowed her eyes. “Now, will you let me pass through that door unimpeded, or must I walk all the way around the house to find another way inside?”
Slowly, Mr. Hawkins stepped away from her. He swept a graceful bow.
Elinor stalked past him without a word.
Voices rose in the distance, but she headed directly for the grand staircase, bypassing the closed dining room door. She felt Mr. Hawkins’s presence behind her like an itch, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of looking around or even speeding her steps at any turn.
At the first-floor landing, he finally turned in a different direction. That sudden coolness at her back was a blessed relief. Still, she kept her pace steady, even after she knew he couldn’t see her anymore. She walked with dignity down the long corridor to her room, opened her door, stepped inside…
…And stopped short as she saw the maid who sat at her dressing table, holding open the packet of Elinor’s private letters from her sisters.
Sally looked up without any sign of embarrassment.
“Miss Elinor,” she said wonderingly. She shook her head. “How in the world have you managed it?”
* * *
