Page 16 of The Best-Kept Secrets
He accompanied Eve and Nia across the inn yard.
“Thank you for your patience,” he said. “I am certain this has not been the quietly pleasant journey you would have preferred.”
“I don’t think either of us has ever been on aquietjourney,” Eve said. “And we’ve become adept over the years at ignoring happenings we’d rather pretend aren’t part of the experience.”
“I am not in a position to ignore those things, I am afraid.”
“She is your grandmother,” Eve said. “Ignoring her expressions of unhappiness would, naturally, be difficult for you.”
Somehow, Eve had managed to make him sound almost heroic instead of pathetic.
“I don’t want her to give you a wrong impression of my aunt and uncle before you’ve even arrived at their home. They are good people. The very best, in fact. Families are...” How to finish the explanation?
Eve threaded her arm through his in a friendly and encouraging way. “Complicated,” she finished for him.
“Precisely.” He looked to Nia walking on his other side. “If you need a respite from sitting beside my grandmother, I can attempt to convince her to move to the rear-facing bench.”
Nia shook her head without hesitation. “I don’t mind.”
They stepped into the inn, and the proprietor greeted them quickly and warmly.
“Mr. Seymour,” Duke identified himself. “I sent word requesting arrangements be made for a meal.”
“Yes, Mr. Seymour. Yes, of course.” The proprietor dipped his head. “I’ve put it in a basket for you.”
“Excellent.”
The proprietor turned to go, but Eve stopped him. “Have you a newspaper?”
He looked back. “I do. From London, though it’s a week out-of-date.”
“Might we take it with us?” she asked.
“If you’d like.”
“We would.”
He left to go fetch all they’d requested.
Eve turned to Duke, smiling broadly. “There you are, then.”
“Why a newspaper?” he asked.
“I assumed you were so desperate for news from London that you would find yourself tucked behind the newspaper for hours and hours and hours.”
Ah. “You are providing me with an escape.”
“One that is unlikely to put your grandmother’s back up.” Eve dipped an exaggerated curtsy. “You’re welcome.”
Shaking his head in amazement and amusement, Duke said, “Where have you been the last twenty-one years, Eve O’Doyle?”
With a grin that lit her silver eyes, she said, “Ireland.”
Chapter Seven
Mrs. Seymour had fallen asleep,making the afternoon hours of their first full day in the carriage far more peaceful than they would have been otherwise. Nia had drifted off as well. Eve was certain Duke was not sleeping behind his newspaper. But he had grown so much more relaxed after his grandmother had gone to sleep that Eve had been very careful not to disrupt his momentary respite.
She’d brought a book with her on the journey and had been enjoying it. But the light spilling in through the windows was growing too dim to continue reading. The strain of trying to make out the words was beginning to make her head ache. She suspected Duke would, at any moment, abandon his efforts to read his newspaper.
