She glanced at Higgins, still waiting at the door. The butler met her stare evenly and looked at the ready to help her dismiss this man. That fact gave her a little strength. This was her house, not Silas’s. She was in charge. If she let this man in, it was because she chose to allow him entry. And she could revoke that permission just as swiftly.
She examined Blackvale’s face. He did look earnestly interested in talking to her. But he wasn’t being lewd in his attentions, like some of Silas’s friends had been in the weeks since his death. Making little comments about her needing company. She shuddered just thinking about it.
But Blackvale had never been like those other men. No, he’d been nothing but polite to her over the years. Kind when they spoke. He was a gentleman of the truest sense, at least by appearance and public behavior. For now, she would choose to believe that was his true character.
And if she let him in, she knew it was more likely this would be finished and she could ensure he didn’t return.
“Your Grace?” he said softly.
She motioned toward the door. “Of course. Please, come in.”
He followed her inside and she gave Higgins a slight smile. “I apologize for the trouble, Higgins.” She glanced back at Blackvale. “Would you like tea, Your Grace?”
“Thank you, no. I think you just came from tea, so I would not trouble you.”
She blinked. Silas would have demanded tea. Although he also would never have allowed her to take tea outside of the house, either.
She entered the parlor and Blackvale followed. She felt him at her back, the heat of him, the presence, even though he didn’t get too close. Still, her heart beat faster and she gripped her hands into fists to stop them from shaking as she sat in one of the chairs and motioned for him to take the settee across from her.
He did so and then he just…looked at her. She shifted beneath that focused regard. “What was it you wished to discuss?”
He blinked as if he’d been pulled from deep thoughts. “Yes, of course. I only wanted to check that you were settling in well. I know you relocated only yesterday.”
Her lips pinched. “And who told you about my situation?”
“Theo.” He shook his head. “Forgive me, the Duke of Lightmorrow.”
“I know who Theo is,” she said softly, and to her surprise, there was a slight twitch to his cheek. “Lightmorrow is a gossip. Which must mean that people are talking about me.”
Blackvale swallowed. “I would not sport with your intelligence and say that wasn’t true, Your Grace. You know there has been interest in your situation since…” He hesitated and his voice cracked as he continued, “Since Silas’s death.”
For a moment, she felt a cacophony of reactions to his genuine emotions. First was surprise. Men didn’t often show their hearts, and yet it was plain that Blackvale was truly pained by the loss of his old friend. Her second emotion was anger. Silas didn’t deserve such loyalty and grief. Especially not from a man like this. One who seemed, at least outwardly, to be the opposite of her husband.
But the last emotion that washed over her was more surprising. She felt…envy. Jealousy that Blackvale could feel something so pure toward Silas. That he was not damaged by her husband’s cruelty and could experience a normal progression of grief for his friend. Something so unlike the tangled and complicated path of her own.
“I suppose it makes sense that I am their current topic,” she said, turning her face so he wouldn’t see her emotions too plainly. They would reveal too much, she feared.
“I can understand why that focused regard would be difficult, but if it helps, I don’t think anyone was saying anything in a negative light. Just that you had moved from the main house here to the Row.” He frowned. “I am surprised that Franklin would insist on such a thing.”
“No, you aren’t,” she said softly, and now she did meet his eyes. “You’ve known the new duke as long as you knew Silas. You know who and what he is. That he waited two months to overrun the household and push me out was an exercise in great restraint for him.”
His nostrils flared. “He did it cruelly?”
She laughed, though she felt no humor. “It wasn’t done kindly, at the very least.”
Anger flickered across his handsome features and she found herself tensing against it, even though it didn’t seem to be directed at her. “I will speak to him on your behalf, I will demand—”
She reached across the gap of space between them and briefly touched his forearm. There was a surprising crackle of awareness that ripped through her when she did, so she snatched her hand away. It had done its duty, at any rate, silencing him as he simply…stared at her.
“I appreciate your intentions,” she said gently. “But moving from the home I shared with Silas looks to be a blessing, not a curse, in the end. There were too many memories there. Here, at least, I can begin to move on.”
She knew he would interpret her words in one way, rather than the way she meant them. And his expression relaxed, as she hoped it would. He nodded. “I can understand that.”
“I hope that answers your questions,” she said, and glanced toward the door.
He followed her gaze and then his eyes returned to her. “Your Grace, I would like to offer my services.”
She stared at him. “Services?”
“Yes,” he said. “Silas was one of my dearest friends, after all. And since his heir is not behaving in the most gentlemanly fashion, I think the duty must fall to me to offer you support and ensure your comfort.”
Valaria pursed her lips. “That’s very kind, but I could not accept.”
“Why not?” he asked, pushing but not cruelly. “I am of rank, I am connected to a great many people who were connected to Silas. During this difficult time, I could truly be of service.”
“It would trouble you,” Valaria said, but she could see that Blackvale was not convinced.
“I would like to be of service,” he said, this time softer. With more pain. “Please. Let me.”
One thing became crystal clear in that moment: the Duke of Blackvale was not going to be turned from this idea by her kindness. He needed it. And that meant she might have to try something sharper, something colder to turn him from the dangerous path he was now treading down.
A path that could lead to her ruin.
CHAPTER 3
Callum had felt Valaria’s discomfort from the moment he saw her. It was plain on her face, in her gaze, which she darted away from his constantly. He’d written it off as grief, perhaps even her finding it difficult to see him when they had both been so close to Silas.
But now something else entered that remarkable blue-gray stare of hers. Something cold. Something hard. A wall came down between them in an instant and he found himself regretting that she felt a need to build it. Especially since he was almost certain that her reason for erecting it was…fear.
She feared him. And he had no idea why. Their past interactions had never been cruel. He could recall them all down to the very detail. So why would she be fearful?
“I assure you, Your Grace, there is no need for your interference,” she said.
He flinched at her emphasis on that word before he pushed to his feet and moved away from her. Perhaps she only needed a moment to gather herself, to think about his offer of support. While he did so, he looked around the parlor. He’d been too distracted by her presence to do so earlier.