Page 45 of The Best-Kept Secrets
“You haven’t the first idea what Colm needs,” Aunt Penelope declared firmly and fiercely. “Or Duke.”
“His name is Dubhán,” Grandmother snapped.
“I call him what he asks me to call him,” Aunt Penelope repeated to her. “I have found that listening when he speaks is a very enlightening experience. You should try it sometime.”
“How dare you, Penelope.” Father was clearly upset.
Eve’s neutral expression slipped into a wince. More often than not, Duke’s family managed to make everyone uncomfortable.
“Someone should stand up for your son,” Aunt Penelope said. “These are his friends, too, and they have remained his friends despite this family’s absolute inability to keep the peace among ourselves. What will happen when you have cost him every connection he has, Liam? Do you think he will thank you for the lonely future that would stretch out in front of him? War isn’t the only thing that hardens a person.”
“If his friends are so flighty as to abandon him because his family isn’t perfect, then he could likely do better.” Mother added that observation. Good heavens, they were all going to come to blows.
“I do not for a moment think they will be driven away,” Aunt Penelope said. “Duke is a protector; he always has been. At some point, he will decide that he cannot bear to watch our animosity hurt his friends. What remains to be seen is if he will save his friends by cutting them off or by cuttingusoff. And lest you all think otherwise, I include this entire family in my use of the wordus.”
Duke was all but holding his breath. There was a painful truth in what his aunt was saying. He’d never invited the Pack to spend a school holiday at Writtlestone, not wanting to subject them to the inevitable misery. His current decided-on approach was going to be distancing himself from his parents.
“If the young peoples’ choice of entertainment is not to your liking,” Aunt Penelope said, “you needn’t join in. You can retire to your bedchambers and ponder on the question of when you mean to leave.”
The click of shoes on the floor echoed an angry rhythm, growing quieter. Duke would guess it was his aunt who had stormed off.
“She laid the blame for all this at our feet,” Mother said.
“She never does acknowledge how implacable she is.” Grandmother clearly didn’t realize stubbornness was a trait one often inherited from one’s parents. “If not for me, I daresay, Penelope would have long since destroyed this family.”
If not forGrandmother? They had demanded his entire life that Duke save the family, and either they didn’t even realize what he’d done for them, or they simply chose not to give him credit for it.
“I’m of half a mind to remain at Fairfield,” Father said, “if only to show her that she can’t dictate what I do.” He sounded just peevish enough to make good on the threat.
“Half a mind?” Grandmother repeated. “I’m of one mind on the topic. Penelope has seen herself as the head of this family for far too long, but I do not answer to her.”
“Wedo not answer to her,” Mother said.
“You two may include yourself in this if you wish,” Grandmother said a little dismissively. “Penelope clearly thinks she has won this battle already. She will soon enough realize this battle is only just beginning.”
Three sets of angry footfalls sounded after that.
“Do you think they will really make trouble?” Eve asked.
Duke wished he could honestly say no. “The Seymours have had some legendary battles over the years. They are never pleasant.”
“But they have, thus far, kept their quarreling mostly behind closed doors, or at least away from everyone else,” Eve said. “There was some snipping and grumbling during supper but notoverlymuch. Perhaps that will continue to be their approach.” Though she phrased it as a statement, there was an obvious question in it.
“I hope it is,” was the most reassurance he could offer, and even it rang hollow.
“They are going to wreak havoc on the house party, aren’t they?” Discouragement had entered her voice and expression.
“My family generally manages to ruin most everything.” They had, after all, only just ruined a tender moment he’d been enjoying.
“No wonder you’re hoping to achieve a bit of distance from the feud,” she said. “Of course, even here you clearly can’t entirely escape it.”
“I cannot fully do so without having a home of my own,” he said. “And I haven’t sufficient income for that.”
A hint of misgiving touched her expression; he realized quickly the likely reason why.
“I am not stretched thin, nor will I be burdened should I be called upon to pay a doctor after all,” he assured her. “Paying for a residence is a much larger expenditure.”
“You would tell me, wouldn’t you, if I were asking too much?”
