Chapter 8
Sunlight streamed into the dining room.
Eleonora sat at one end of the long table, staring at a plate of Eggs Benedict she was too nervous to eat.
Beatrice sat at the head, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"I heard you two slept well," she said. "The maids said the bed was... disheveled."
Eleonora choked on her orange juice.
Kristopher cut a piece of bacon with surgical precision. "She snores," he said flatly.
Eleonora kicked him under the table. Her heel connected with his shin.
Kristopher didn't flinch. He took a bite of bacon.
"He grinds his teeth," Eleonora said, smiling sweetly at Beatrice. "Like a rabid dog."
Beatrice laughed, clapping her hands. "Chemistry! I love it."
Arthur stepped forward with a velvet box. "From Mrs. Schaefer."
He placed it in front of Eleonora.
Eleonora opened it. A massive emerald necklace lay on the black velvet. It was heavy, ancient, and clearly priceless.
"This was Kristopher's mother's," Beatrice said. "It belongs to the lady of the house."
Eleonora snapped the box shut. "I can't accept this."
"Take it," Beatrice commanded. Her eyes narrowed. "Or I will assume you are rejecting this family."
Eleonora looked at Kristopher. Help me.
Kristopher looked at her. He saw the panic. She wasn't greedy. She was terrified of the obligation.
"Take it," Kristopher said softly. "Wear it."
It was an order, but it was also permission.
Eleonora put it on. The cold stones settled against her collarbone. It felt like a collar.
"Sir," Arthur interrupted. "The car is ready."
Kristopher stood up. "I'll drop you off. Where are you going?"
"The city," Eleonora said, grabbing her backpack. "I have research to do."
Kristopher raised an eyebrow. "Research?"
"I'm a forensic accountant," Eleonora said, slinging her bag over one shoulder. "Don't look so shocked. I can read a balance sheet."
Kristopher watched her walk to the door. The emeralds glittered against her casual t-shirt.
"Arthur," Kristopher murmured. "Re-run the background check. Dig deeper. The file we have is wrong."
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