Page 79 of Nothing But a Rakehell
And found Glory standing near the doorway, waiting.
Chapter 17
Once again, Keswick did not look pleased to see her.
She didn’t let it deter her. She just waited while he stomped up, a belligerent look on his face.
“You’ve been here the whole time?”
She nodded.
He cursed.
“What does it mean?” she asked gently. “Solas Ag Crithlonrú”
He was going to balk again. She saw it in the shuttering of his gaze.
“You might as well tell me. The secret is out.”
Alarm lit up his expression. “You cannot mean to tell anyone else?”
“Not if you don’t wish me to.”
“I don’t. Of course I don’t.”
“I admit, I understand your hesitations better, now that I see what you are up against.”
He gave a bitter laugh. “You don’t know but a portion of it. But you know more than most, and I would ask you to keep my secret, just as I promised to keep yours.”
“You know I will,” she soothed. “But were you not the one who said it might help, to speak of your pain?”
He started to answer, then stopped. Running a hand over his face, he spun around, walked to the empty stall door and back again. He stared at her for a long moment, then crossed to another wall of the stable and emptied a crate of its tack bits and implements. “Sit down,” he said, upending the crate and sitting it at her feet. “I’ll tell you, but only because you don’t know what I am up against. What you are up against. Not truly.”
She sat. And waited quietly.
“Shimmering light,” he said after a few moment’s of silence.
She frowned. “I’m sorry?”
“Shimmering light.Solas Ag Crithlonrú.That’s what it means. I named the place for my mother. She always brought light and laughter with her, everywhere she went.”
“She shielded you from the worst of it?” she asked softly. “While she lived.”
“She tried, although at times it only seemed to make him worse. And after she died . . .”
Grumpet came sauntering back into the stable just then, and Keswick swooped down to pick her up and tuck her into the crook of his arm. Absently, he stroked her, and it seemed to make the words come easier.
“He’s always been caught up with the idea of shoring up the family, strengthening the blood line. The heir after me is my second cousin. He’s a nice enough chap, but my father despises him, as he also hated his father. For what reason? I don’t know. But he’s horrified at the thought of the title passing to that branch of the family tree.
“And you’ve no idea what caused the enmity?”
“No.” He grimaced and shook his head. “They were at school together. Perhaps something that happened there? But it might not have been a specific incident.” He frowned. “I learned, after I was grown, that my grandmother lost several children, both before my father and after him. One other boy was born, but he was sickly and died while still a babe. My father was young at the time, perhaps four or five years of age, but he was old enough to see and remember. Maybe that is what started it?” His lips compressed. “All I know is that he is convinced of his own superiority.”
“Over the dreaded cousins?”
“Over nearly everyone. He regards himself as smarter and stronger in almost every way. And he lives in fear of frailty. He has always watched me closely. My earliest memory of him is the weight of his stare. His measuring gaze. He could not abide any sign of anything he considered weakness—and he would go to great lengths to do away with it.”
His gaze sharpened as it landed on her. “That’s what you need to understand. It’s why I don’t want him to think you mean anything to me at all. He will hurt you, Glory. He’ll stop at nothing to run you off.”
