Page 33 of The Best-Kept Secrets
“There was a great deal to do, Grandmother,” Duke said. “And Miss O’Doyle worked every bit as hard as Miss Niamh and I did.”
“Then, you should have been able to spend more time with me,” Mrs. Seymour said. “It was nearly unbearable to pass endless hours all alone.”
“You could have joined us in the public room,” Duke said. “The Marlows were very good company.”
Mrs. Seymour sniffed, which Eve had come to know meant the older woman disagreed but didn’t want to continue discussing a topic. And in the next moment, she took up a new topic entirely. “I expect your father has abandoned me because I didn’t arrive at Epsom today as I was meant to.”
“He is likely confused, and I suspect he is concerned,” Duke said, “but I do not believe he will have simply tossed his hands up and returned home.”
“And if we reach the inn and he isn’t there?” Mrs. Seymour demanded. “What do you mean to do then, Dubhán?”
He means to attempt to escape all the burdens you and his parents place on him all the time.
Duke pushed his own half-eaten meal away. “If my father is not at the Wren and Badger, then we will continue on to Fairfield.”
Another sniff. Eve wouldn’t miss that sound when their paths diverged. She suspected Duke wouldn’t either, though his was too good a heart not to miss his grandmother. If only his grandmother appreciated him as she ought.
“Penelope certainly wouldn’t be happy about that.” Mrs. Seymour appeared already offended at a slight she had not yet received. “She, I am certain, would rather not see me again.”
“She has happily welcomed you to Fairfield in the past, Grandmother.”
“She has not been happy nor was I truly welcomed,” Mrs. Seymour said. “But she didn’t lock me out, so I suppose there is a bit of truth to your recounting of the past.”
Duke’s lips pressed into an almost indiscernible grimace even as his shoulders slumped a bit. He needed a rescue, and Eve knew just how to accomplish it.
“I must say, I am shocked to hear that Mr. Colm Greenberry, who seemed such an exemplary gentleman when we interacted with him in London, has such horrible parents.”
That immediately raised Mrs. Seymour’s hackles. In absolutely haughty tones, she said, “Colmisan exemplary gentleman, and his parents arenothorrible.”
Eve pretended to be confused. “All I know of the Greenberrys is what you have said of them, Mrs. Seymour. And you have said nothing favorable.” She stood, necessitating that Duke stand as well. “If you wish people to think well of your family, you might considerspeakingwell of them, as most people will assume you are not an unreliable source of information on the subject.” She then addressed everyone as a whole. “I am still quite tired. I believe I will retire for the evening. Good night, all.”
And on that parting note, she made her way from the private dining room and up the stairs to the room set aside for her and Nia. As they hadn’t a lady’s maid to prepare the space for them, no candles were lit. Eve snatched one from a sconce in the corridor and brought it in with her. She lit the candles on the two bedside tables and atop the tallboy before returning the borrowed flame.
Inside the now dimly lit room once more, she closed the door. Only then did she realize she had been very nearly holding her breath. She released it all at once.
She likely shouldn’t have scolded Mrs. Seymour. Duke’s momentary reprieve from addressing his grandmother’s grumblings might very well now turn into an extended effort. But it had been so frustrating hearing him have to keep assuaging her every complaint, undertaking the verbal contortions needed to defend others in his family without offending her. The lengths he anticipated having to soon go in order to secure himself an escape were heartbreaking. She’d wanted to offer him a momentary respite now.
While she undertook the contortions necessary to undress herself—a feat only possible because her and Nia’s dresses and stays were specifically designed to be removed by the wearer—her thoughts returned yet again to the kitchen in the abandoned inn. How magical it had proven.
Duke had told her to be proud of her baking. He’d promised to defend her against the unkindness of theton. He’d heard her worries and shown he could be trusted. He’d held her while she’d cried and promised her she wouldn’t be alone in her difficulties.
And then he’d kissed her. The same heart-stopping exhilaration she’d felt with the kiss washed over her now at the memory. He’d stood so close. He’d watched her so intently, with a warmth that had been more tense than soothing.
His deep, rich voice had pitched ever lower. And he’d whispered her Irish name as if it were a bit of poetry.
She closed her eyes and breathed. The sound of her name on his lips... She would never forget that. Not ever. And being kissed by Duke Seymour was equally unforgettable.
She tucked her feet under the blanket on the bed, sitting up with her book open on her lap. The candle on her bedside table offered just enough light to read, and the thoughts on her mind offered just enough distraction to require that she reread the same page over and over again.
She was still undertaking the futile effort when Nia arrived.
“You did the impossible, Eve,” Nia said.
Eve laid her ribbon in her book and closed it. “What impossible feat did I manage?”
“You left Mrs. Seymour speechless.”
Eve didn’t know if she ought to wince or applaud herself. “For how long?”
