Because she ought to have been as pleased as Fanny was about Callum’s ultimate departure. But somehow she was not.
CHAPTER 8
Almost a week had passed since Callum had walked out of Valaria’s townhouse on Kent’s Row, and yet he had not stopped thinking about her. He should have. He should have put a period on the brief sentence that had been their renewed acquaintance and moved on to other things, other pursuits.
But he couldn’t. He thought of her while he readied himself in the morning, he thought of her when he went about his day, he thought of her when he was at balls or parties or his club. He certainly thought of her at night while pulled himself off.
And he thought of her now, sitting in Theo’s parlor after a night of gambling at their club.
“God, when are you going to end this brood? It’s gone on for what feels like a lifetime,” Theo said as he plopped down on the settee next to Callum and handed over a bottle for them to share.
Callum took a swig and handed the bottle back. “I’m not having a brood,” he insisted softly.
Lied. He was certainly having a brood. The broodiest brood he’d ever brooded.
Theo snorted. “Obviously this is still about the Duchess of Gooding. And since I was able to pry out of you that your conversation with her did not go terribly, I can’t understand why you are still so stuck on this subject.”
Callum dipped his head back against the cushion and stared at the ceiling. “I shouldn’t be. But I feel frustrated. Uncomfortable. And I can’t place why.” He huffed out a breath. “I suppose it is just guilt over what still feels like a betrayal of Silas.”
Theo was quiet a moment. “Yes. Silas.”
Callum looked at him. “Why did you hate him?”
“Hate him?” Theo held up his hands. “I didn’t hate—” He cut himself off. “Oh, bloody hell, the man is dead. Yes, I hated him.”
“Well,” Callum breathed, “so it’s out at last. The truth.”
“I’m sorry if it hurts you, because you I most definitely do not hate.” Theo patted Callum’s knee briefly. “But I never understood why the hell you were so close to someone so markedly different from you.”
Callum shut his eyes as thoughts of his childhood bombarded him briefly. He pushed them away. “You’re different from me, as well. I just wish I understood your hesitation about him. Your avoidance. Your contempt.”
Theo pondered his half-empty glass a moment. “I saw that man be needlessly cruel to others many a time, Callum. He wore a mask and when it slipped, he was ugly beneath. For some reason, he was very careful not to show you that part of himself.”
There was a moment’s silence as Callum considered that. There was a kneejerk reaction in him that said he should defend Silas against this accusation. But when that faded a little, he could think of a few times in their friendship when Si had been…less than kind. Almost always when he drank, and Callum had always found some way to excuse the behavior.
Was it possible he had been so blind to not see that was actually who his friend was?
He cleared his throat. “Why wouldn’t he show me the truth of him?”
Theo tilted his head. “Because he knew if he did, you would have called him out. You would have ended the friendship, and if there is one thing I knew about Silas, he valued that friendship. Now, whether that was mercenary or genuine, I have no idea. Perhaps I am not the best judge, biased as I am about the subject. But he didn’t want you to know what he was.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Callum got up and paced away to the window to stare out into the dark. “If you are right, it speaks low of me that I would not be able to see past any mask he wore.”
“People get very good at hiding,” Theo said. “My father was like that. Though he put the greatest share of the monster in him onto the shoulders of us in his family.”
Callum looked at him. Theo was rarely open about his past and now there was an expression of bright pain on his face as he spoke. Callum felt the waves of it…but he also recognized it. It was the same expression that had been on Valaria’s face whenever she spoke of Silas. Whenever she tried to push Callum away.
He drew back a fraction. “Do you…do you think that Silas might have been cruel to Valaria that same way?”
“If he was cruel to Valaria,” Theo said gently, “it would have been worse. Because she had nowhere to run.” His jaw tightened. “But she’s free now and you have agreed to give her space, so why does what she suffered or not suffered matter to you?”
Callum clenched his hands at his sides. “Because if I stood by and did nothing—”
“Because you didn’t know,” Theo said.
“But if something like that happened, I should have known,” Callum insisted, and felt the truth of it so deep within his chest that it felt like the guilt was intertwined with his muscle and sinew. “I should have known and I-I should have come to her aid. Protected her.”
Theo moved toward him. “I don’t know anything about the life that Valaria and Silas shared,” he said. “Perhaps I lay too much of my own past on what I saw. But I do know that whatever was between them, for good or for ill, it isn’t your responsibility, Callum. She isn’t your responsibility.”
“Then why does she feel like she is?”
Theo dropped his gaze away. “You wanted her.”
Callum tensed. “It was one kiss.”
“Before you kissed her,” Theo said with a snort. “I think you wanted her from the moment you saw her, didn’t you? Worse, you like her.”
Callum felt his nostrils flare as those words sank in. And felt so true. He did like Valaria. He liked her intelligent gaze and her rare smiles. And if he was honest, he’d liked her for a long time. Perhaps more than he should have as her husband’s best friend. “And what do I do about that if you are right?” he asked.
Theo’s lips parted. “I…don’t know. I’m adept at avoiding such attachment, not actually dealing with it.”
“Well, perhaps avoiding it is what I should continue to do,” Callum said, going back to the bottle on the table in front of the settee and taking a long drink of it in the hopes it would eventually blot out this conversation. Or at least soften it later. “For both our sakes.”
Although Callum’s gift of books had kept her entertained for a few extra days, Valaria’s pleasure in them had faded considerably since he had last exited her home, their kiss dismissed and never to be repeated. Space was what she had said she desired, but getting what one wanted wasn’t always fun. And being alone to ponder every mistake one had ever made was worse.
That feeling of being trapped was exactly how she ended up at Hyde Park in the middle of the day, strolling around the path that danced beside the edge of the Serpentine. It had been a cool morning, so the park was not heavily populated at present and she felt she could breathe again. Like she had not been put in the grave beside Silas to molder after all.
“Is this better, Your Grace?” Fanny asked at her side.
She smiled at her maid. “So much better. This was a wonderful idea. Humans weren’t meant to be entirely cooped up inside, I don’t think. Or at least I wasn’t. Stepping out, getting some air, seeing some nature, what harm could come of—”