Page 84 of Nothing But a Rakehell
His father gave him another long look, then took his leave.
“And that is two.” Tensford shook his head. “Damned if she wasn’t right.”
“She?”
“Glory. She said that those two would come in to check up on you. And now that they have, I am to give you your instructions.”
He said nothing. He felt odd at the mention of her. Raw. She knew. She’d peeled away his armor and seen the ugly truth inside. No one else knew the full story, not Tensford or Sterne or Chester or Whiddon. He didn’t know how to act with his secrets abroad in the world instead of tucked safely away.
“Kes?”
“Instructions?” he asked hoarsely.
“She wants you to saddle up your horse and ride out to meet her—at the height. She seemed to think you would know what that meant.”
He did. And his heart pounded in anticipation and trepidation.
“She has something for you. She wanted to give it to you before this evening, and before you left to return to London with the rest of the party.”
He thought about it. He’d spent years shaping his life so that he didn’t feel vulnerable, would never feel that way again. She did that to him. But she also made him feel connected and strong andwhole. He thought about seeing her tonight at the ball, surrounded by strangers and foes. He thought about saying goodbye to her as a mere acquaintance, practically a stranger, and never seeing her alone again, in a place where they could laugh and he could tease and share real conversation and feel utterly safe just being himself.
He eyed the half-finished framing. But he knew.
“I can finish this up.” Tensford drew close and put a hand on his shoulder. “But Kes? I ask you to be . . . gentle with her. She sees the spot you are in.”
If only he knew how true that was.
“She’s exactly the sort to offer to help with drastic measures. If you allow it, I fear she won’t escape unscathed. She’s fragile, you see.”
Keswick drew a deep breath and looked his friend in the eye. “I’ve been honest with her from the start, I vow it. The last thing I want is to hurt her. But Tensford? You all need to blink and step back and really look at Glory. Perhaps bits of her are fragile. But for the most part? She’s brave and loyal andstrongand she’s got a core of steel. It’s time you all saw it.”
And with a nod and a smile and a reassuring clap on the back, Keswick walked out, heading for the stable.
* * *
He’d just leftthe thinning trail and turned onto the fern-thick track when he saw the first one. The bright red bow caught his attention. Dismounting, he plucked a carved, wooden horse from a fork in a tree. It was painted a sorrel color and sported a tag, along with the ribbon.
I hope this brings only good memories of Saoirse.
He felt a twang in his chest and knew suddenly why people spoke of heartstrings. Glory had surely just plucked one of his.
He became suspicious when he found the second parcel—a small picnic basket—sitting in the bottom of the dip before the steep climb. It contained a dish of sausages, another of colcannon and—
“Brown bread,” he said out loud in amazement, and wondered how she’d remembered—and how she’d convinced cook to make it.
He knew for sure what she was up to when he reached the top of the first rise and found a small basket full of India rubber balls—and it made him laugh out loud. He was still chuckling when he crested the second hill and looked down into the glen—and saw her waiting, standing on the fairy stage.
His grin faded. He tethered his job horse next to Poppy and walked slowly down the slope. She stood in the middle of the makeshift stage, dressed in a light and gauzy gown of green and wearing a garland cleverly woven of branches and vines. She gave him a tight-lipped grin and he could see her nerves in the twisting of her fingers.
He took a step forward, concerned, but she held up a hand. “I sincerely hope you don’t mind my presumption. I mean only to try to make up for a few of those missed birthdays.”
“It does. It was a kind notion.”
She gestured around the stage. “This is the last present—but I ask that you do not say anything, not yet. Not another word. Just sit.” She nodded toward the logs sitting in the appropriate, audience position. “I mean to do this, but you cannot speak until it is done.”
He held silent and took a seat. She watched, her anxiety clear, and he only gave her an encouraging nod.
Their eyes held for a long moment. Suddenly, her back straightened and she nodded back. She took a couple of steps to the right, then stood for a second, head bowed toward the center of the stage. She looked up—and transformed into . . . something else.
