Page 14 of The Best-Kept Secrets
“You think hechoosesnot to smile?” Nia asked.
“I’m not certain. But I don’t think he’s actually an unhappy person, and he does have a sense of humor. There must be some reason why he doesn’t smile.” It broke her heart a little to think of the possible reasons why: past sorrows, grief, overwhelming worries.
“When we get to Fairfield,” Nia said, “we should corner Charlie and torment him until he tells us.”
“I doubt Artemis will allow us to torment Charlie.”
“Artemis torments him all the time,” Nia insisted.
Eve grinned. “Yes, but he enjoys it whenshedoes it.”
Nia blew out the candle. The bed moved a little as she settled in.
“I still can hardly believe all the Huntresses and the Pack will be together again,” Eve said. “It is a dream come true.”
“And I think everyone will be in London at some point during the Season,” Nia said. “What larks we will all have together.”
“Sounds perfect.” It would be utterly brilliant. And she wouldn’t be there for any of it.
As she lay in bed, warm and comfortable, her mind was not entirely tranquil. There were so many things she would miss, so many people and connections and experiences she would eventually have to grieve. But so long as the changed future she now faced was required to be kept secret, she had to pretend as if everything were as it had once been.
Chapter Six
They were halfway through theirfirst full day in the carriage, and Duke was beginning to ponder the very real possibility of tossing himself out onto the roadside, risking injury for the chance to escape.
“I am not one to complain”—Grandmother made the declaration without the slightest hint of irony—“but it was rather thoughtless of your father to insist that I make a journey several days longer than I had anticipated. He ought to have kept to the original arrangements and permitted me to journey directly to Writtlestone.”
Duke most certainly agreed with that. “Let us hope he arranges direct journeys for you from now on.” His hopes on the topic were firmly built on the need to keep Grandmother from detouring to Fairfield, where Duke had every intention of being, and that when she did journey to her daughter’s home, it would always come with ample warning so he could make himself scarce for the duration of her visit. Perhaps those would be ideal times for him to make brief visits home. His parents might welcome him back if they saw his albeit temporary return as a show of loyalty to them and disapproval of the extended family.
“I intend to confront your father about this disloyalty,” Grandmother declared.
“What disloyalty?” He couldn’t entirely keep the sudden hint of panic out of his voice. Surely Duke hadn’t given away his plan.
Grandmother pursed her thin lips and tipped her chin defiantly. “He has subjected me to unnecessary suffering. He should know how unfairly he is treating his mother.”
She was, then, upset about what she saw asFather’sbetrayal, not Duke’s upcoming perfidy. Lud, he hoped he could manage to make his end goal less of a mess than it seemed destined to be.
You’ve navigated complicated situations with your family before, he reminded himself.You’ll manage to do so again.
“He owes me an explanation as well,” Grandmother said. “One does not cause such consternation to one’s family without explaining oneself to that family.”
Duke was hearing the very complaints that would soon be lodged againsthim, the same denouncements, the same upbraiding. He felt certain his only chance of maintaining a relationship of any kind with his parents was to put distance between himself and them. Yet they would, without question, castigate him for doing so. It was very discouraging.
“Does my son not care that I am being subjected to a much longer journey than I would otherwise have endured? Am I so unvalued as a mother that such a thing seemed perfectly reasonable?”
When Grandmother’s complaints shifted toward pointed questions about the possibility of being a dismal mother, Duke knew he was expected to redirect. Unfortunately, he’d found over the years that taking some of the blame on himself worked best. “Father likely would have kept to the original arrangements except thatIneeded to make a journey as well. There would be a great deal more expense in two separate journeys occurring at the same time, something I ought to have considered sooner.”
She pondered that a moment and seemed a little appeased. “He has had to be rather careful in financial matters these past years. That, of course, can be laid at Penelope’s feet.” Duke subtly mouthed the next phrase in perfect synchronicity with his grandmother. “Selfish girl.”
“Aunt Penelope is not responsible for Father’s difficulties,” Duke said.
“She might not have caused them, but she most certainly didn’t help when his situation grew precarious.”
Duke hadn’t been old enough when this bit of family history had occurred to know all the details, but the versions he’d heard from his father, his grandmother, and his aunt did not match. He’d more or less sorted out which bits of truth existed in which retelling of events. But truth was not usually the highest consideration in decades-old quarrels.
“I know that was a very difficult time for you,” Duke said.
“The estate that had been my home was taken from our family.” Grandmother sniffed. “My son lost his inheritance, and my daughter allowed him to lose it.Difficultdoes not begin to describe my experience.”
