“Oh… well, I…” Valeria floundered, shoving the rest of the tart into her mouth to buy herself enough time to come up with a suitable answer. “I like him. He is a decent gentleman. Honorable, too. There are many who would hear of a father’s debt and simply continue to pretend it did not exist.”
The little line of worry reappeared between Aaron’s brows, a heavy sigh whispering from his mouth.
“But love is not everything, Papa,” Valeria hurried to say, patting his hand. “There are countless successful marriages in society that are not built on love. There are many more where love has blossomed over time. I am not… discontent with this match, Papa. It will serve everyone well, andthatis what truly matters.”
For an awful moment, it looked like her father might cry. He set his cup down and drew his hand out of Valeria’s, covering his face as he shook his head slowly. His breaths were uneven and shallow, his throat bobbing. He did not need to speak his grief; it was there in every fiber of his being, and she did not know how to reassure him any more than she already had.
“I loved your mother from childhood,” he said thickly, muffled behind his hands. “She used to wander in our woods, though her estate was miles away. The first day I met her, she was sitting on the bank of the stream, skirts tied around her legs so theyresembled trousers, fishing for trout. I loved her immediately. She, on the other hand, thought me a nuisance for a while.”
Valeria smiled, picturing the scene. “She wanted to be left alone?”
“It was more that I wanted to impress her, so I would tell her she was doing things wrong or take over whatever she was doing—picking blackberries, building a den, whittling a sword, preparing a fish to roast on the fire.” He chuckled behind his hands. “She was always right, and, in the end, I learned how to listen. We taught each other, we shared our strengths and weaknesses, and we became inseparable.
“I remember telling her, just before I first went away to Eton, that I planned to marry her once we were old enough. I asked if she would wait that many years for me. She just laughed and said, “You are making it sound as if you are going to war, not school. You will be back in a matter of months—you know where to find me when you return. You can ask me again then.”
I did ask her, every holiday, every year, until we were both eight-and-ten. With her father’s permission, I finally asked if she was done waiting, and would do me the honor of marrying me. Fortunately, she said yes. Actually, I think she said, “Took you long enough, my love,” but it was definitely an agreement.”
The sting of bittersweet tears pricked at the corners of Valeria’s eyes. “I remember believing that all ladies were like Mama. It was quite the shock to discover that she was unusual.”
“She was spirited,” Aaron sighed, letting his hands fall away from his face. “She was… the brightest of stars; the kind you only see once in a lifetime, if you are lucky. Twice for me, since you are the very reflection of her. I suppose… that is why it pains me so much, to see you dim yourself for a problem that I caused. Youshouldhave a marriage of love, or no marriage at all if that is your choice, but I have doomed you to a marriage of ‘like’ instead.”
“You have not doomed me, Papa,” she insisted. “Love is a nice notion, but duty is nicer. Knowing you will be safe at Skeffington, that Mama’s grave will not go untended, that everything will remain the same, is all the satisfaction I need.”
Aaron cast her an anxious glance. “But you will be so far away.”
“I will visit often,” she promised.
“Does… this mean you plan to accept the viscount?”
She puffed out a breath, wrangling her courage into submission. She could not delay forever, not if she wanted to keep the dream of Skeffington alive. And Duncan wasnotcoming to help her out of the situation, no matter how much she wished he would. It was up to her, and no one else, to secure her family’s future.
“Yes, Papa. You may inform him of my decision,” she replied, her heart clenching. “I would just ask one thing of you before you do.”
Aaron nodded, his shoulders slumping as if a great weight had just been lifted from him. “Anything, my dear girl. For all you have done, anything.”
“Might we leave for Skeffington this afternoon? If everything proceeds as swiftly as Roger suggested, then I have but three weeks to enjoy waking up each day in that beloved place. I do not want to waste a moment of that in someone else’s manor.”
A broad smile cracked across her father’s face, as he seized her hands and pulled her into a fierce hug. “We shall leave at once, my dear girl,” he promised. “Yes, we shall not waste another moment.”
She hugged him in return, taking comfort from the fact that his future was now secure. He could live in his own home until the day he died, where he would join his beloved wife in the estate’s cemetery, spending eternity together beneath the grand yew tree that stood guard over the plot. It was a macabre thought, but a heartening one.
He did not need to know that her desire to leave quickly had less to do with saying goodbye to Skeffington, and more to do withnotsaying goodbye to a certain duke. If she stayed for the remainder of the house party, she would not be able to put enough distance between herself and Duncan to stop her fruitless feelings from resurfacing.
And now that she had made her choice, she could not allow anything or anyone to undo it. Her resolve was still a fragilething, and one kiss, one dance, one word from Duncan would undoubtedly shatter it.
“Beatrice will be furious that we are leaving early,” Valeria said to lighten the mood, chuckling as she pulled away from her father.
He laughed along with her. “And that she will not be going back to London. I hope she will not be bored at Skeffington.”
“Nonsense,” Beatrice declared with a grin, striding into the Sun Room, making it clear that she had overheard everything. “I make my own amusements and cannotwaitto be back at Skeffington. With a wedding to organize, there will be no time for boredom.”
Valeria frowned at her cousin, the younger woman’s tone too cheerful, her smile too wide, her expression almost strained, as if she did not like the idea at all. But whether it was the wedding or the withdrawal from society that Beatrice did not like, Valeria did not know, and did not dare to ask.
For now, they would all have to pretend that this was something to celebrate. It was assuredly the only way that Valeria stood a chance of making it to the actual wedding day.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Look at him,” Duncan snarled from the periphery of the old feasting hall, transformed into a ballroom for the revelry of the house party guests.
