Shutting her in alone with Callum. A man who loved her…or had loved her. A man who had also loved the man she killed. And she had no idea what he would do or say…what she would lose…now that her secret was out.
After he was left alone with Valaria, Callum stood silent for what felt like an eternity as he tried to wrap his mind around the words she had just said. Those horrible words, and her terrible, broken expression as she said them. It made no sense. And yet it made all the sense in the world at the same time. Her confession explained everything.
“I understand if you want to end this engagement, if you can call it that,” Valaria said at last. “I will take the blame for it if you do. I should because all this is my fault.”
“That is what you think?” he said. “That I believe what happened is your fault?”
“I killed him,” she whispered, and that choked sound returned to her voice and stabbed him through the heart. “How can it be anyone’s fault but mine?”
He moved toward her, slowly now, gently because he never wanted to give her a reason to fear him. The very idea she’d ever had to fear anyone still felt like poison in his veins. She stiffened, but didn’t draw away as he took her hands.
“It’s Silas’s fault,” he said, slowly and succinctly. “Look at me, Valaria. Look into my eyes and hear what I’m saying to you. Everything that happened that night is Silas’s fault.”
Her lower lip began to tremble and she bent her head, leaning forward to rest against his chest. He folded his arms around her, reveling in the warmth of her, the fact that she was alive and here with him after all she’d endured.
That she almost hadn’t been was so devastating he could scarcely grasp it.
“I know you loved him,” she whispered. “I know losing him was very difficult for you. And if you hate me for taking him, I understand.”
He cupped her chin and tilted her face toward his. He met her eyes and held, hating the hesitation he found there. The terror. God, he hoped that one day he would prove to her that he was not Silas. That he was someone she could depend upon, someone who would always be on her side.
“I cared about the man I thought he was,” he said. “The man he never was. I hate who he truly was. Hate him down to the core of me.”
Her lips parted. “Callum.”
“It is true. If I had known what he was doing to you, I would have killed him myself to protect you, Valaria. I’m sorry you were so alone in facing that monster. And I am so happy that you defended yourself that horrible night. That you lived.” His voice broke as the emotions rushed up in him. He tucked her back into his arms and held her closer. “That you are here. It’s all that matters.”
She wept then, softly but with enough strength that he wondered if she had never fully allowed herself to do so before. That if today was the first time she’d really faced what she’d endured and what she’d been forced to do.
He gently smoothed his hand over her hair, allowing her this moment where she could be safe in his arms. But he released her when she pulled away.
“You must have questions,” she said, moving to the settee.
He followed and took a place beside her. He drew in a long breath. “You’ve said so much today, I wouldn’t press for details unless you wished to give more of them.”
Her brow wrinkled and she stared at him. “You are truly unlike any man I’ve ever known.”
“Considering the caliber of man who has darkened your door, I will take that as a compliment.”
“It’s meant as one.” She sighed. “And you cannot know how much your acceptance about this means to me. I don’t know if you will feel differently as this sinks in—”
“I won’t,” he assured her, and meant it.
“But the consequences, Callum,” she said. “It was bad enough when no one else knew, but now it seems someone did. We—I was so careful that night, I thought. But the note makes it clear that someone knows. I cannot imagine what they will want to keep their silence.”
He flinched and held out a hand. She passed the offending missive over to him and he examined it. The handwriting was shaky and awkward, almost childlike. But the paper the note was written on was very fine and heavy. Curious.
He read the two sentences again, analyzing every swirl of the letters and turn of the phrases. “Thus far they have not asked for anything. It seems they only want you to know they know. To torment you a bit.”
She shivered. “Silas would approve, I think. But they do mention what I’d be willing to pay to keep the secret. So they are not finished with me, I don’t think.”
“Well, the first step will be determining who wrote this note,” he said.
“How will I do that?” she asked.
He tilted his head. “We. We will do that.”
“Oh. You would…you would drag yourself into my ruination.”
He shook his head. “Yes. Always. Every time, Valaria. That is what one does when one loves someone. One day you’ll know that without having to ask me to remind you. But if you need me to, I will remind you every day.”
Her expression softened. “You…you could still love me after this?”
“I do love you, Valaria,” he declared, and held his breath as he prayed she would return that sentiment. For a moment he thought she might. She clung to his hand, her blue-gray eyes locked with his. But then she broke away and bent her head.
“What do you need from me?”
He sighed. “I suppose we’ll start with a list of any person who might have a reason or ability to blackmail you. Servants who were on the property that night, neighbors who could have seen what happened in the stable. And we’ll go from there. Theo will help, I know. And your friends will be there at your side. Because no one judges you, Valaria. You know that, don’t you?”
“I could see it on their faces, their wonderful, kind faces,” she agreed. “But I admit, I find it hard to believe. How could you not judge me? How could they not see me differently knowing what I did?”
“They will see you differently,” he said softly. “They will see you as an even stronger, braver woman who saved her own life. Who faced something horrific and overcame it because she has steel at her core.”
She blinked. “Is that how you see me?”
“That and so much more.” He leaned in then, praying she would allow him to kiss her. She hesitated for a moment, but then lifted her mouth to his. He kissed her gently, sweetly, because this caress was not about desire or passion or claiming, but about connection. It was about love.
He wanted her to feel his love so completely that she couldn’t deny it, even when she questioned herself.
He sighed as they parted, and traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. “I do have one question.”
She nodded. “Anything. You’ve earned it.”
“Would you have…would you have told me the truth if I hadn’t seen that letter today?”
Her hesitation, the way she broke eye contact from him, told him everything he needed to know before she even spoke a word. She worried her hands in her lap, staring at her fingers as they flexed together and apart over and over.