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Valentin.”
    Ever since their rescuer had discovered that Val’s claims to have an aristocratic family were true, he’d been toadying up to him and ignoring Peter. But what would happen if Val’s family chose to cut him off? It was unlikely that Mr. Harrison would offer them a home out of the goodness of his heart. Fear closed icy fingers around Val’s throat.
    He glanced across at Peter, but his friend was studiously ignoring him, his gaze locked on the view outside the carriage window, and his shoulder turned away. Peter understood him better than he understood himself, and had probably worked out what he’d done to Captain Ford the moment he set eyes on him that morning. The trouble with Peter was that despite everything he’d gone through, he was too nice, too eager, and far too willing . . .
    Val couldn’t be like that. He’d already vowed never to allow anyone to control him again. That included his so-called family. The carriage rocked to the left as it turned a corner into another tree-lined street with three sides and a garden in the center of it. The houses here were on a massive scale and reached five or six stories high.
    â€œAh, here we are.”
    Mr. Harrison didn’t sound quite so confident as the carriage pulled up outside one of the white stucco mansions. A footman in the now familiar blue livery leapt to open the door and let down the step. Val waited until Mr. Harrison and Captain Ford got out before deciding to descend. Peter followed him, his anxious gaze scanning the huge front of the house and the steps up to the front door.
    â€œGood Lord, this place is enormous. Do you remember it, Val?”
    â€œNo.”
    Val took his time sauntering up to the front door as though he didn’t give a damn about who or what awaited him within. The footman bowed as Val went by and then shut the doors behind them, closing off all escape. He found himself in a white marble hallway with a double staircase leading upward to a huge well-lit chandelier. He allowed his gaze to drop to the group waiting at the bottom of the stairs and stiffened.
    â€œValentin?” A gray-haired man stepped forward. “My God. Is it really you?”
    Val allowed himself to be wrapped in the older man’s arms and ruthlessly embraced, but he didn’t reciprocate. When he was released, he studied the man’s face with all the detachment he could muster, which wasn’t much as his heart was thumping violently in his chest.
    â€œDo I know you, sir?”
    â€œI’m your father.”
    â€œSurely not. My father died on the ship.”
    Pain washed over the other man’s face. “I tried to save you, Valentin, but there were so many of them. I was badly beaten and only survived because I happened to get caught in the wreckage and stayed afloat.”
    â€œHow nice for you.” Val stepped back and brushed at his borrowed coat. “Where’s my mother?”
    â€œShe died a year after you—after you disappeared. She never got over your loss. It destroyed her.”
    Val struggled to breathe as tears pricked at his throat and drew himself up. “May I leave now?”
    His father frowned. “Leave? But you’ve only just arrived. I’d assumed—”
    â€œVal . . .”
    Peter came over to him and touched his arm. “Perhaps you might at least stay the night so that your family can get to know you a little?”
    â€œAre you that desperate for a soft bed, Peter?”
    â€œProbably as much as you are.” Peter hesitated and lowered his voice. “Please, Val. Give him a chance. This isn’t easy for either of you.”
    â€œWe would love for you to stay with us, Valentin.”
    Val turned to the pretty young woman by his father’s side who had just spoken.
    â€œAnd who are you?”
    The marquess placed the woman’s hand on his sleeve. “This is your stepmother.”
    Val nodded. He had to get away