The Best-Kept Secrets (The Huntresses #3)

Chapter One

Tulleyloch, Ireland

December 1819

Eve O’Doyle was far too acquainted with chaos to be the least bothered by it. In fact, she felt right at home in the midst of a hubbub. Truth be told, she was usually at home when in the midst of a hubbub.

Not even the kitchen at her family home of Tulleyloch was calm. The family’s precarious finances had long ago emptied that room of the usual servants employed in a home this size and by a family of the O’Doyles’ perceived status. Mother had proven herself an adept cook, and Eve had taught herself to bake, so between the two of them, they’d saved the family a great deal of money.

They were both undertaking those tasks when Nia, Eve’s sister, who was only just younger than herself, stepped inside. “I feel it important for the two of you to know that Edmund and Scuff are currently in the yard pretending to be chickens.”

Mother met Eve’s eye and shook her head with a look that clearly said, “Those boys are nothing short of ridiculous.”

“Did our two distinguished Shrewsbury lads explain just why they’ve chosen to imitate barnyard fowl?” Eve asked.

Nia shrugged as she approached the worktable. “All Scuff would tell me is that they were undertaking ‘an experiment.’ Edmund then laughed in that way he always does when the two of them are about to shift from ‘mischievous’ to ‘someone send a message of condolence to the king of the leprechauns because he is about to be dethroned as the world’s most dangerously mischievous imp.’”

Eve assumed a comically stern expression and looked to Mother once more. “Remind yourself that you were eager to have them home from school.”

“I had hoped they would return home the mature sixteen- and fourteen-year-old boys they are.”

“Our brothers?” Nia’s expression twisted into one of overdone doubt.

In a tone as mock-serious as Nia’s, Eve said, “I think Mother must be succumbing to a dreadful fever of some kind that is addling her mind. A very tragic turn of events indeed.”

“The entire family’s suffering will be significant, I don’t doubt.” Nia sighed. “There’ll be a great deal of fainting.”

“Mostly by her,” Eve added solemnly. “On account of the fever.”

Mother pointed a knife at them but not menacingly. “You two are as bad as the boys.”

“Oh, no.” Eve shook her head. “We are far worse.”

Mother laughed as she returned to slicing vegetables for the family’s supper. Eve slid a perfectly shaped, deliciously golden loaf from its pan into her cloth-draped hand, then flipped it over to sit upright on the worktable.

“That smells delicious,” Nia said.

“Let us hope it tastes delicious,” Eve answered.

In unison, her sister and mother said, “It will.”

Baking was one of Eve’s talents—a talent and a passion. But it wasn’t considered an acceptable pastime or interest for a lady. Such was the unfortunate nature of her inability to choose commonplace activities to capture her curiosity. No one in the O’Doyle family did anything sedately or with excessive consideration given to meeting others’ expectations.

“We’ve received a letter.” Nia held it up.

It was addressed to the both of them.

“Who is it from?” Eve asked.

“Artemis.”

Eve laid a cloth over the loaf and moved with her sister into the spill of light from the window, eager to hear what their beloved friend had written.

Dearest Huntresses,

Their group of particular friends were known among themselves as well as in Society as the Huntresses.

Plans for our Christmastime house party are at last finalized. True to the forfeit they are required to pay on account of our dear Daria winning this summer’s wager, the gentlemen of the Pack

That was the name the Huntresses’ closest friends used, a group of gentlemen their same age who had, of late, become ever more intertwined with them.

have worked quite painstakingly—or painfully, depending on one’s view of the matter—to bring this about. The previously decided-upon dates remain the same, but they, at last, have secured a location: Fairfield, the Greenberry family’s estate in Surrey.

“Colm said his parents might be willing to host the gathering,” Eve said.

Nia nodded. “And it’s near enough to London that Ellie and Daria should be able to make the journey.”

Finding a way for all the Huntresses and all the Pack to gather was growing more complicated as their individual lives took them in countless directions.

Duke is to meet you in Dunleary, which I am assured is not far from Dublin. He, and an appropriate chaperone, will bring you two to Fairfield for the gathering. As the Pack did vow to make this feasible for everyone, the travel arrangements and expenses have been seen to, though I have not yet managed to wheedle out of my Charlie exactly how the Pack managed that.

For now, I will be content knowing that all my Huntresses will be together again, and I will save my energy for planning ways we can amiably torture the Pack.

All my love to you both.

Yours, etc.,

Artemis Jonquil

Eve sighed with delight. “We get to see everyone again.”

“Which one is Duke?” Mother asked from the worktable.

“The quiet one who always seems angry,” Nia said.

Mother’s brow pulled in concern. “Will you not be miserable making so long a journey with a gentleman who’s always angry?”

“He always seems angry,” Eve repeated with emphasis. “’Tisn’t true though. And if it further puts your mind at ease, Duke’s given name is actually Dubhán.”

Mother perked up on the instant. “He’s Irish, is he?”

Eve and Nia nodded in unison.

“That must be the reason he’s the one accompanying you to Surrey. He’d be departing from Dublin as it is.”

That was not actually entirely true. Duke’s family was Irish, and Eve thought she’d heard that he was born in Ireland, but he’d lived most of his life in England, where his family now made their home. But perhaps he was in Ireland visiting members of his extended family.

“Who do you suppose the ‘appropriate chaperone’ will prove to be?” Nia asked.

“Perhaps his mother,” Eve guessed. “Or Charlie’s. She would be lovely to make a journey with.”

“If not on this excursion, perhaps on the next.” Nia smiled, as clearly delighted with the idea as Eve was. “At the very least, we will see her in London next Season.”

Charlie and Artemis were married. There was practically no way anyone among the Huntresses or the Pack could entirely avoid members of either of their extended families.

“We have such larks in London.” Eve grinned at the memory of a few of those adventures.

Mother dropped the last of the fish chowder ingredients into the pot over the fire, set the heavy lid over it, then turned back to them. “Have you a minute, Eve?”

“Of course.” She walked with her mother out of the kitchen.

Edmund and Scuff ran past as the two women walked down the corridor. The boys were taller than either of their sisters, lanky, and so full of good-natured devilment.

“What are the two of you up to?” Mother asked.

In perfect singsong unison, the boys answered, “Nothing,” and continued on their way.

“Strikes fear into the heart, that does,” Eve said, grinning as she watched them go.

“They make it a difficult thing, imagining the two of them as gentlemen grown.”

“For my part,” Eve said, “I assume they’ll be very much as they are now, only older. Still mischievous, still entertaining, still pulling each other into often-ill-advised adventures.”

Mother looked down the corridor in the direction the boys had gone, though the space was empty now. “Life has a way of extinguishing sparks.”

That was a heavier declaration than she usually made. The O’Doyles were known for laughing through difficulty, smiling through trouble. ’Twasn’t dishonesty or pretended happiness. They took quite seriously the struggles they had and the reality of life. But laughing helped keep them going. Smiles kept them from abandoning hope.

“Has something happened?” Eve asked, studying her mother’s unusually pensive expression.

“Let’s gab a minute in the Royal Pavilion.” Mother motioned to the door nearest them.

The family had long ago christened the absurdly tiny sitting room, one big enough only for two spindle-back chairs and a side table and nothing else, “the Royal Pavilion.” Comparing a space so tiny to an ever-expanding palace so ornate that it was almost unfathomable was very much in keeping with the family’s odd sense of the ridiculous.

When Mother closed the door behind them, Eve began to truly worry. “Now you have me fearing someone’s dying or something,” she said as she sat in one of the chairs.

Mother sat as well. “I’d not wanted to tell you this with Nia nearby. And your father and I had not wanted to send you to your house party with difficulties on your mind.”

That was ominous. “ Máthair ?” she pressed when her mother didn’t immediately continue.

“The cargo ship your father invested in has not reached any of the ports it was supposed to.” Worry pulled at Mother’s features. “Several others that departed after ours have already reached those ports and continued their journeys. We can only assume it has been lost at sea, along with all the linens and textiles aboard. I have been telling myself that the crew all managed to escape in rowboats or something of that nature and survived whatever catastrophe happened on board. I, of course, know that ’tisn’t necessarily the case.”

Eve’s heart ached at the thought of so many lives lost. She did not take that lightly. But she also knew that the crewmen, whom she also hoped had somehow survived, were not the reason her mother had pulled her into the Royal Pavilion for a private discussion.

“If the ship never delivered any of its goods, then the investment is entirely lost?” Eve posed it as a question but felt certain she already knew the answer.

“Entirely, and with it all the money we invested and all we’d hoped to earn.”

If the room weren’t so shockingly small, Eve might have risen and paced, which was an odd inclination for her. “How bad is that loss going to prove for us?”

“Fortunately for us all, your father is willing to take risks, but he is not a gambler. He knew that even if this investment failed, we’d not be left destitute. And without at least trying, our fortunes were unlikely to ever reverse.” Mother’s response was a little evasive.

“You needn’t be afraid to tell me the truth of it. You know me well enough to know that about me, I hope.”

At last, Mother offered a bit of a smile. “You’ve always preferred direct talk and interactions free of obfuscation. Your very sincere and open disposition did worry us a little when you first went to London. Town Society can be very... rejecting of those who don’t bend when the ton demands it.”

“We’ve Artemis to thank for Nia’s and my not failing that first Season.”

A very maternal sort of affection entered Mother’s eyes for a moment. “I am grateful to Artemis for so many things. What an angel she has been.”

Few in Society would describe Artemis Jonquil, née Lancaster, as an angel. In Eve’s estimation, half the ton was intimidated by Artemis, and the other half was jealous. It was, of course, an oversimplification. But those who were fortunate enough to truly know Artemis were well aware of how remarkable she was.

“We aren’t at risk of losing Tulleyloch or starving or anything truly horrific like that,” Mother said. “But we need to eliminate a significant expense somewhere. Your father and I have discussed it up one way and back the other, and we’ve but two options. The first is to pull one of the boys out of school.”

Eve shook her head. “They both have to find a profession, and neither is likely to manage it without an education, unless you send them into the army. But neither is the least suited to that.”

“Their tuition and lodging are expensive,” Mother said.

“But it is necessary.” Eve, of course, knew that her parents understood that. Thinking out loud had always been her way when she was sorting something difficult. “What is the other option?”

An added measure of hesitancy filled Mother’s expression. “We could save quite a lot, nearly half of what we currently spend, if only one of you girls has a London Season next year. Even then, it would be a very curtailed Season.”

It was, in actuality, a logical and sensible solution. But the thought of either her or Nia not returning to London dropped like a weight on her heart.

“As the oldest,” Mother continued, “it would be expected and entirely reasonable for you to be the sister who returns. No one would give that a second glance. And should you make a match, Nia could return the Season after that.”

Eve hadn’t made a match during the Seasons she’d had thus far. While she was not one to drown in discouragement because a hope hadn’t yet borne fruit, she had to admit her chances of meeting, falling in love with, and marrying the gentleman of her dreams grew slimmer each year. She would be twenty-two by the next Season. That didn’t put her in the realm of old maid, by any means, but it tiptoed her in that direction.

Nia, on the other hand, was younger, and even that one year of additional youth was a helpful advantage.

“Am I correct in assuming you’ve brought this directly to me because you’re wanting me to make the decision?” she asked.

“We wanted you to have the option to make the decision.” ’Twas a small clarification, but one that filled the approach with consideration and kindness. “If you feel it’s not something you’d like to decide, we’ll not be the least upset with you, and we’ll sort it out between the two of us.”

“There’s no need.” Eve leaned toward her mother. “Nia needs to be the one who goes to London. She has a better chance of success than I do.”

“I wish we didn’t have to make this choice,” Mother said.

Eve squeezed her mother’s hand. “And I am simply grateful that we managed the Seasons we did with both of us in London, and I am doubly grateful that the boys can continue their schooling. Economizing is never a painless endeavor, but this family weathers every storm. We’ll certainly manage this one.”

Mother looked relieved, which lifted some of the weight from Eve’s mind.

“And who knows?” her mother said. “We might, between now and the start of next Season, find ourselves with the income we need. Unlikely, perhaps, but I’m not willing to declare it impossible.”

“I don’t know, Mother. I’ve met your children, and I’m not certain they’re well-behaved enough to qualify for such a drastic miracle.”

Mother smiled, and Eve laughed lightly. The coming months and years would likely be difficult and, at times, a disappointment, but they could most certainly make the best of life, as they always did.

“We’ve one more thing to ask of you, Eve,” Mother said. “And we’re aware ’tis a difficult thing.”

“What is it?”

“We’d rather Nia not know yet. Not that she ought to be lied to, mind. But we know she’d worry about this, and we’d rather it not dampen her enjoyment of the house party. And we’d rather you not spend the house party arguing with her about which of you’s to remain home from London.”

“I’ve not kept secrets from her before.” The very idea made Eve uneasy.

“It’ll not be forever. Only until you’ve returned home. That’ll afford us time to explain to her, settle her worries, and make all the arrangements we need to take her to Town in the spring.”

“If you and Father think it best, I’ll not tell her.”

After a fierce hug, Mother took the single step required to reach the door and slipped out.

Alone in the small space, Eve released a tight breath. Without a London Season anywhere on her horizon, her chances of making a match were sinking as fast as an ill-fated linen-laden ship. And an unmarried, unlikely-to-ever-be-married daughter of a household was a perpetual drain on a family’s finances.

Marriage, love, and a home of her own seemed no longer her future.

Then, what was?