Now Eleanor did finally look at her, eyes deep green and unreadable. “I’m moving back to the house.”

The words came out crisp and clean with no hesitation, nothing but meaning, like they’d been rehearsed. No emotion even. Just words. Just there, spinning around the room. Danni opened her mouth, then shut it again. She blinked, shook her head slightly. “Wait… what?”

Eleanor held her bag closer to her body. “The roof’s finished on the west wing. Samson says I can move back in safely. So I’m going.”

Danni tried to process this, tried to find a way to make sense of it, but every explanation she landed on didn’t quite fit. “So… what about dinner?” she asked, grasping onto the smallest, safest thing she could think of. “Shall I make something?”

Eleanor exhaled sharply through her nose, something that wasn’t quite a laugh but wasn’t far from it either. “I won’t be here for dinner, Danni.”

Danni shifted her feet, the tiles cold through her socks. “Right, yes, obviously. Sorry. But, um, but you’ll be back, yeah?” Because it was unthinkable that she wouldn’t be. It was unthinkable that this was happening right now.

There was silence. Just long enough for Danni to feel a deep, sinking certainty in her stomach.

“No,” Eleanor said finally. She looked away. “No, I won’t.”

It took a second for this to land. “Right.” Danni huffed out a small laugh. “Okay, is this…?” She gestured vaguely. “Is this a joke? Or did I do something? Is this about something I did? The boots again? By the door? Because I can—”

“It’s not you, Danni,” Eleanor cut her off.

“Then what is it?” Danni asked, confusion in her voice.

Eleanor looked at her again. “I was never meant to stay. I never intended to stay.”

Danni flinched. The words cut right through her, sharp and precise. She shook her head, trying to keep her voice steady. “No, no, of course, not at the beginning. But then... But we…” She took a breath, it was shaky, too shaky. “But now it’s different. This is bollocks. We’re happy, we’re…”

She could see Eleanor’s fingers tightening around the strap of her bag, the knuckles turning white. “That was never the point of this,” she said. “The two things should never have become intertwined.”

Danni knew what she meant. Knew that she meant that the feelings and the business arrangement should have been kept separate. But that didn’t mean that this had to happen, did it? She took a slow step forward, something raw and bloody rising in her chest. “So what? That’s it? You just separate the feelings out and go on back to your house like none of this happened?”

There was a moment when she thought that Eleanor was going to say something else, when her expression changed just a little. But then she shook her head. “That’s exactly what’s happening,” she said.

“You don’t get to decide all of that all on your own,” Danni said, clenching her fists at her side, feeling the anger burning up inside her, wanting to hit something or kick something. Not Eleanor, but something. The couch, the table, anything, anything to let out some of this anger that was threatening to bubble over.

“I do, actually,” Eleanor said, looking away.

And there was something about that quiet certainty that broke something in Danni. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, raking a hand through her hair. “Un-fucking-believable. You... what? You just get bored of slumming it? Bored of having a bit of rough? Want to go back to your old, rich life, do you? Or is this one of those things where the emotions all got too much for your stiff upper lip? You need to push people away before they get too close and discover that you’re actually human beneath all that aristocratic bullshit?”

Eleanor inhaled sharply, but didn’t say anything. It was like she was standing there knowing that she deserved the words, knowing that she deserved to be punished.

Danni let out a breath. “You’ll miss me,” she said, as much to herself as to Eleanor. “You’ll miss all of this. Just you wait and see. You think it’s all high ceilings and high tea. But you’ll miss this, Princess. You’ll miss me.”

Again, she almost thought that Eleanor was going to break, going to say something. But after an instant, Eleanor stood up taller, a cool, distant expression passing across her face. “Let’s not make this dramatic.”

“Yeah, God forbid that something in your life actually means something. Other than your damn house, of course.”

A flicker of something crossed Eleanor’s face, but it was gone before Danni could place it. Instead, Eleanor straightened her shoulders, as poised as ever. “I’ll set up a standing order for the farm. Monthly payments into your account.”

Danni recoiled. “What?”

“That was the deal, wasn’t it? You needed money, I needed marriage. I’m not backing out of our agreement. You’ll have what you need for the farm.”

It felt like being punched, like a fist to her stomach. “You think that’s what this is?” Danni said, her voice raw. “You really believe that’s all this was?”

Eleanor’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I think it’s best that we remember why we did all this in the first place.”

Danni could only stare at her, could only look at the careful mask that Eleanor had put back into place. She knew that she’d made Eleanor take that mask off once, was sure of it. She didn’t know why it was back, and she didn’t know how to remove it again. “Fine,” she said, giving up. “Fine. You want to go, then go. I’m not stopping you.”

For a fraction of a second, Eleanor hesitated. Just a fraction. A tiny sliver of time when things could have changed, where this could all have ended differently. Then she turned away, picking up her bags, and opening the front door.