“We are more than our pasts,” she whispered.“You deserve a future filled with happiness and pleasure and laughter.Please don’t forget that.”
Valaria squeezed her eyes shut and felt a tear slide free.She wiped it on the back of her hand as she tugged away.“You might think differently if you knew the truth.Thank you, though.I appreciate your friendship so deeply.”
She didn’t wait for Bernadette to reply, to try to convince her yet again to stay, or to consider a life she could never have.She just got into her carriage and off it went, carrying her to a moment she dreaded.
Carrying her to the end of the affair with a man she felt more for than she could allow herself to admit.
* * *
“The Duchess of Gooding is here, Your Grace,” Morris said.
Callum had been standing at the picture window in his study, looking out at the garden below, and now he turned, heart throbbing.“I’ll see her here,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”Morris didn’t move, but worried his hands before him.
Callum tilted his head.“What is it?”
“I-I believe the lady has been crying, Your Grace,” the butler said slowly.“Her maid was loathe to leave her, as well.”
Callum clenched his jaw at that idea, though it had to give him hope.She was just as conflicted about this as he was, and perhaps he could convince her not to do something rash.
“Thank you, Morris.Bring her here and then no disturbances.”
Morris bowed away and Callum smoothed the line of his jacket with both hands as he stared at the door and awaited he moment Valaria would walk through.When she did, he caught his breath.He didn’t even hear Morris say her name, hardly noticed as the butler reached into the room and pulled the door shut behind himself.
“Good afternoon,” Callum managed to squeak out.
She nodded.“Callum.”
They stood like that, eyes locked on each other for a long moment, and then he shook his head and moved toward her.“May I get you a drink?I’ve sherry here.Or I could ask for tea to be brought.”
“No, thank you, I’m fine,” she said.
He hesitated and searched her face.Shehadbeen crying, Morris was right about that.Her eyes were red and a little puffy.
Slowly, he extended a hand and traced the line of her chin.“What can I do?”
She made a small, sharp intake of breath as she stared up at him.Her bottom lip quivered, but then she turned away and paced to his window where she looked out at his garden for a moment, just as he had been doing when she arrived.It seemed they brooded the same way and he almost laughed at the irony of that.
“It is not your job todoanything, Callum,” she said at last.
He wanted so much to deny that, but he could see how close to the edge she was.He didn’t want to push her over.To force her to make a move that they might both regret.
It was obvious that crying made her feel vulnerable around him.And the answer for that was to give her some vulnerability, himself.Something he had never been comfortable with.
But comfort didn’t matter in the face of losing someone he loved.
Slowly he moved to the seats by the fire and took one, gripping the armrests.“Did Silas ever tell you how we became friends?”
She remained staring out the window and did not look at him.“N-No.Silas didn’t speak to me about much.Certainly rarely about you.”
Callum refuse to ponder the reasons for that and instead continued, “He saved my life.”
At that she did pivot, her mouth dropped open and her eyes wide.“What?”
He nodded slowly and forced himself to think of that day.It was not something he liked doing.“We were thirteen.You may not think it to look at me now, but I was a scrawny child.Skinny as a rail and small for my age.”
She shook her head.“It is hard to picture you as anything but what you are now.”
