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Elle couldn’t hold back a crooked smile from forming. “You sly fox.”
Lord Kallen chuckled. “Vengeful fox, I am. Howard’s made no effort to curb his tongue when it comes to crowing about my death.” He lifted his gold-tipped cane, pointing to the still waiting carriage. “So where is Mr. Smith now? What happened?”
Her voice caught in her throat. “He was lies. Lie after lie. I am apparently truly dismal at identifying the true nature of men.”
Lord Kallen nodded, a deep frown setting into his face. “Come. We sit.”
He moved to the front steps she had just heaved herself off of and leaned heavily on his cane as he sat. His bones creaked—it was too far down for him, yet he still did it for her.
He patted the stone next to him and waited until Elle moved in place beside him before he continued. “Tell me of these lies.”
She sighed a breath, looking away from him at the crest of the far-off sea she could see through the small opening of the trees that ringed the dower house. Her hands clasped together, she stretched her arms out long in front of her, balancing them on her knees. “Rune was after the box—the Box of Draupnir that we showed you days ago. He was after it all along. And he told lie after lie to get it. And then he left.”
A grumbled sound came from Lord Kallen’s throat and his hand went onto her forearm, squeezing it. “I don’t know about his lies. People lie for different reasons, some are bad, some are good. I don’t know where he lands on that gamut, but I do know that Mr. Smith has been the only man that I’ve ever seen look at you like you deserve to be looked at, Elle.”
Her gaze swung to him. “How was that?”
“Like he would spill blood, upend the earth, fight the devil himself just to be next to you.”
She shook her head. “Then I think your eyes are finally going bad, as you are sorely mistaken.”
“No, child, no. I’m not. I saw it in Mr. Smith and I recognized it immediately.”
Her fingers unclasped and went to the bridge of her nose, squeezing it to stop any tears from falling. “How could you possibly know what he was thinking?”
“Because it’s how I used to look at my dear Francine. Every moment. Every hour. Every day. I know it because I lived it.”
As hard as she fought it, tears sprang into her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”
He patted her knee and then stacked both of his hands atop his cane, looking out at the vista. “Then why aren’t you with him?”
“Because he’s not who I thought he was. He was lies—that was what you saw in him—lies.”
“One cannot fake what I saw in him.” His shrewd grey eyes pinned her. “Whatever lies you think he is made of, he loves you. That wasn’t a lie. Let me ask you this. How did he leave? Did he sneak away? Did he take that box and sneer as he told you he was leaving?”
“No.” Her eyes closed, her head dropping between her upper arms. “He held me. Held me like it was the last time he was ever going to do so. I felt it in him. He didn’t want to let go.”
“But he did. So he’s either a fool or he had some other motive he wasn’t going to tell you about.”
“There was nothing—nothing except for what he said at the end.”
“Which was?”
She lifted her head, her stare on the gravel in front of her toes. “That he would always choose me over promises or vows or friends or loyalty.”
Lord Kallen nodded, his fingers tapping onto the worn golden head of his cane. “That doesn’t sound like a man who was leaving you willingly.”
“He wasn’t.”
He lifted his cane and jabbed it into the ground. “Then what are you doing on your front step with your face drooping and your lips pouting? I always liked you for your fire, Eliana. I sure hope that whelp didn’t steal it from you.”
Her look whipped to him. She’d never heard him raise his voice—at least at her. He grumbled—constantly—but never once had his voice lifted past the gravely rumble she knew so well.
“Lord Kallen—”
“He either stole it from you, child, or he didn’t. Which is it?”
Her right cheek lifted in a half smile. “I don’t think he did steal it.”
