She knew that. She would not have accepted it if he had been. She did not know quite what he was doing. She only knew that when he entered a room, she became aware of it without turning her head and that when he left, the room felt smaller. On the third day, Petra spoke a whole sentence at breakfast.
She said, "May I have more toast, please, grandmother?" with butter. The Dowager Duchess did not look up. She simply passed the toast, but her hand shook once and Vivienne saw it. On the fourth day, Petra laughed out loud at something a footman said. The footman went pink to the ears and pretended he had not heard.
On the fifth day, Petra, without warning, climbed into the Duke's lap at tea. He froze for a heartbeat as though he did not know what to do with his arms. Then slowly he put them around her. He did not look at Vivienne. Vivienne did not look at him.
But when she raised her cup, her hand was not quite steady. That evening, walking alone in the long gallery after dinner, Vivienne came upon a small painting she had not noticed before. It hung between two windows in a place where it caught no good light. It was a portrait of a young woman in blue silk with dark hair and grave eyes and a small crescent-shaped scar at the corner of her jaw. There was no name plate.
"That is my sister," said the Duke from behind her. Vivienne did not startle; she had heard his step. She turned slowly. "Petra's mother," he added.
"She is lovely."
"She was." He came to stand beside her, though not too close. "She died a year ago last April. My brother-in-law followed within the month. A fever took them both. Petra was in the country with her nurse, or she would have gone too."
"I am sorry."
"So am I." They stood in silence before the painting.
"I brought Petra here because there was no one else. She has no other family. Her father's people are all dead, or worse than dead. I am the only uncle she has. I did not know what to do with her. I still do not."
"You do not need to know," Vivienne said. "You need only to be there." "I have been there. It has not been enough."
"It will be." He looked at her, and she looked back. The lamp between them flickered. In the portrait, the young woman in blue silk seemed almost to smile.