Valaria spared a cursory look around the study, satisfying herself that they were alone. Her eyes never seemed to stop moving. She was looking for clues as to the true nature of the predicament that she found herself in, for weapons she might use to defend herself if it came to it, perhaps even looking for an escape. However, the young woman was all too aware that she was at the heart of a fortified citadel with no friends to aid her. She was alone, and even if she were four times better and sneaking about, the odds of success still did not weigh in her favor. Nothing weighed in her favor right now, and this man knew it well.
Valaria accepted the seat and the wine hesitantly and found that even though he might have toasted to her health, she could not drink it. She needed her mind clear for this, and who knew what toxins might have been laced in with the wine, or coated the vessel it was poured into? Best to be cautious. After all, what reason did she have to trust him when all she had known at the hands of his agent was betrayal?
She regarded him in silence as he mentioned Dufresne, save for the sound of teeth grinding against teeth when she clenched her jaw. Solomon had been an agent of his all along, a spy in Ampetrion’s household just lying in wait. She had played him so easily with her desperate request to be saved. Solomon had swallowed her lies, but it seemed she had been played in kind from the very beginning. She had been foolish, and the depth of that foolishness was now on display. His name clicked inside of her mind. James Staunton. Ampetrion had mentioned him in the carriage, how he had been his reasoning to take her from her family. She also remembered Ampetrion’s comment about what Staunton might do if he knew anything about her. Too late for that now.
“James Staunton,” she murmured carefully, peering at him across the desk. “He mentioned you only once by name.”
Valaria paused then, wondering what she could say. Ampetrion had withheld everything from her because he did not trust her, and apparently rightfully so. She had gone and gotten herself caught by the very man he had been fearful of in the first place, after he had explicitly told her that she could not leave with such a risk hanging over her head. Maybe he would guess upon his return at where she had gone, but by then it would be too late. The damage was done, and she had no hard information to trade for her freedom. When Staunton realized this, any worth she might have somehow held to him would plummet to nothing.
The entrance of Malachi saved her from saying anything else for that moment, however, and Valaria focused her quiet ire on him. She dared not say a word to him, not even to scold or insult him like she wanted. It was difficult to keep her fiery temper in check, but she managed it just the same with only the tightening of her grip on the wine goblet. She briefly wondered what he would look like with wine splashed over his pale face but resisted that urge too.
She was glad for it, for the news of her family cooled all the ire from her in the span of a second, and it was all she could do not to jump to her feet with the information and run with it. It was a ploy, a carrot, maybe even another trap, and shared openly in front of her. Without Ampetrion’s influence over the past several months, she might have taken it as a simple gesture of good faith, but she had nothing of worth to give him in exchange, and could not even pretend to. She could lie, of course, but something about the man made her think that he would know if she did, and that she would not much care for the consequences of playing him falsely. He was no Solomon Dufresne, to fall for the hook and line cast by a pretty face and sorrowful eyes.
Valaria’s gaze flickered from Malachi to Staunton and back, then fixed finally on the Lord of the Citadel. Her lips parted with the faintest quiver, and the exhaled breath that came next was a nervous one, but she spoke honestly. “I will answer if I am able, but you must know that…I was only in his company for a short time and in that time, he did not see fit to share much with me in the way of his plans or ventures. He…did not know me well enough to trust me, he said, and I pressed him often. As to why he took me at all…he did not see fit to inform me of his reasons for that either.”