Page 47 of The Best-Kept Secrets
“I unintentionally overheard a conversation between your mother, my father, and our grandmother last night,” Duke said.
Colm’s mouth pulled into a tense line. A lifetime of their family members being at odds with each other hadn’t exactly been a delight for either of them. “Were they arguing again?”
“Of course they were.” He didn’t bother hiding his annoyance. “I wish I knew how your mother maintains as much of her composure as she does during these altercations.”
“HowMotherstays composed? Duke, you are the Unshakable Dubhán. I’ve wondered for years now how you manage to keep the peace as well as you do.” With a hint of a smile, Colm added, “We could have used that gift on the Continent while Napoleon was frolicking around Europe.”
There was just enough lightness in Colm’s response to ease Duke’s mind. He found he could jest a bit as well. “Ididprove myself an excellent spy last night.”
Colm looked intrigued. “Did you?”
“I overheard your mother say something that I think you ought to know.” Duke felt strange making the request he was about to, but he’d heard heartbreak in Aunt Penelope’s voice last night. “The undefined favor I’m going to ask is that after I tell you what she said, you do something about it.”
“With theundefinedpart being that you don’t know what precisely I ought to do,” Colm guessed with a flicker of a smile. “What did she say?”
Duke had debated all night how to approach this. He didn’t want Aunt Penelope to continue being unhappy and worried. But he didn’t want to transfer that distress to Colm. “That, essentially, she’s a little worried about you.”
All hints of Colm’s smile disappeared, though he didn’t look upset or offended. “Worried aboutwhatin regard to me?”
Duke wasn’t going to tell Colm that he was breaking his mother’s heart or that she felt like she’d lost her son to the ravages of war. Those ravages were likely still tearing at him. “She wants you to enjoy this house party, but she worries that you won’t now that my parents and our grandmother have decided to remain.”
Colm breathed tensely. “They’re staying?”
“Unfortunately.” This was an approach to the matter that didn’t require Duke to tell Colm all the pain he’d heard in Aunt Penelope’s voice. “She said this was the first time you’ve had friends at Fairfield since returning from the Continent, and I suspect she wanted everything to be as close to perfect as she could manage.”
“And she’s worried that I won’t bring friends around again if—when the Seymour family’s bickering causes the inevitable upheaval?”
“Yes, and that you’ll be made unhappy by it. Aunt Penelope very much wants you to be happy.”
Colm’s jaw worked in a movement that spoke of uneasy contemplation. “She looks at me sometimes with an expression that tells me she knows I’m not as happy as I used to be. War does that to people, Duke. It breaks something in a person that makes happiness a little hard to keep hold of.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have even tiptoed toward this. Wanting to ease Aunt Penelope’s worries might have led him to cause Colm pain, which wasn’t at all what Duke wanted. Everything about the extended Seymour family felt impossibly complicated.
“I am glad the Pack and the Huntresses are here,” Colm said. “And even with the eruption of hostilities you and I can easily predict between our parents and grandmother, I will still be pleased to have our friends here.”
Duke hoped that proved true, but he knew perfectly well how destructive the family’s feud could be.
A flicker of a smile tugged at Colm’s lips. “I will make certain my mother knows how pleased I am to have this house party at Fairfield.”
“I think she would appreciate that.” And Duke hoped he’d done the right thing in turning Colm’s thoughts toward that expression of gratitude.
Colm leaned against the doorframe. “What was your other favor?”
“This one requires you to keep a secret,” Duke warned.
“Understood.”
Duke rested his shoulder against the other side of the doorframe. “Eve told me last night that she thinks Nia ought to be seen by a doctor.”
“Gads.” Colm’s posture grew rigid once more. “She’s that ill?”
“Eve thinks she might be.”
Colm nodded. “Nia didn’t seem like herself yesterday.”
“I don’t know where the nearest reliable man of medicine is.”
“Dr. Wilstead in Epsom. I’d trust him with the lives of anyone I care for.”
