Chapter Three
“Of all the members of the Pack, Mr. Seymour did seem to me the least likely to forget his traveling companions at a posting inn and not realize his mistake for several counties.” Father walked beside Eve and Nia, their arms hooked through his, along the newly completed harbor at Dunleary, where they were meeting Duke. “But see if you two can’t manage to make the lad smile between here and Surrey. He seemed to be in desperate need of it.”
Father had met the members of the Pack very briefly during the last London Season. Eve’s family was firmly ensconced in the gentry, but being Irish was a point against them in the eyes of far too many people in Society. That their financial woes had become almost impossible to hide had dealt their standing another blow. Eve had seen her father treated with arrogant dismissal, disdain, and indifference so significant that it felt dehumanizing. Even those a generation younger than he looked down on him.
But the Pack didn’t.
If Eve hadn’t already adored that group of gentlemen, she would have been utterly devoted to them for that. There was soul-deep goodness in every last one of them.
“We’ll miss the two of you at Christmas,” Father said.
“It’ll be strange not being at home.” Eve had thought on that often since the timing of the party had been decided upon.
“I think you mean ‘it’ll be quiet not being at home.’” Father had always enjoyed teasing, a trait all his children had inherited from him.
“No gathering of the Huntresses or the Pack is ever quiet,” Nia countered. “Having both groups together?” She shook her head. “You’re likely to hear us all the way from Surrey.”
“A joy, that’d be.” Father shifted his arms from being looped with theirs to wrapping them around their shoulders and tucking them closer. “I love you girls, you know.”
In perfect unison, they said, “We know it.”
This was a well-known exchange between them. Their father was not one to leave expressions of love unspoken.
“’Tis a difficult thing for a father, having his daughters grow up.” He squeezed their shoulders. “I’ll miss you when life takes you away from Tulleyloch and to a home of your own.”
Father leaned a bit closer to Nia as he spoke the last bit. Eve suspected he didn’t do so intentionally. But he knew that of his two daughters, only Nia was now likely to have a future home and family of her own.
Up ahead along the harbor sat an elegant enclosed carriage. The coachman sitting up front and the tiger standing in back wore perfectly matched livery. The carriage showed not a single sign of wear. Not a scratch marred its deep-red paint. This was a carriage carrying a person of class and distinction.
And standing beside it was Duke.
“Who’d he find to act as chaperone?” Eve said out the side of her mouth. “Queen Charlotte herself?”
Nia looked over at her and lifted an eyebrow. “Why do I feel as though we’re about to wish ’twas the queen in that carriage?”
Father let out a low, quiet whistle. “I’m having a touch of that feeling my own self.” But then he grinned at them. “Should be an adventure for you, girls.”
They’d come near to where Duke waited for them. He offered a very polished bow, which they answered in the expected way.
“A pleasure to see you again, Mr. O’Doyle.” Duke had a lovely voice, deep and rich. Eve had always liked it, which she’d felt an odd thing. It was not something she’d ever thought about anyone else.
“And you, Mr. Seymour.” They shook hands. “If memory serves, you’ll have only just finished your time at Cambridge.”
Duke nodded slowly. “You have an impressive memory, sir.”
Father shrugged. “I’m pleased to hear at least something about me’s impressive.” Though Father laughed, Eve suspected he meant the observation more than he let on. Their reversal of fortunes, his struggle to provide for his family, and their tepid reception in London likely all weighed down his view of himself.
“I am certain, sir,” Duke said, “were I to ask your family, they could provide me with a list of impressive things about you.”
Eve wrapped her arms around her father. “We most certainly could, Athair .”
Father pulled them close once more, though he spoke to Duke. “These girls are precious to me, so you’ll not be surprised when I ask you who it is that’ll be looking after them on your journey to Surrey.”
Looking far from offended or annoyed by the request, Duke dipped his head once more. He then motioned subtly to the carriage. “My grandmother will be making the journey with us.”
His grandmother? Eve had not ever heard Duke speak of his grandmother.
Father, however, seemed truly impressed by the revelation, almost awed. “Your grandmother? Mrs. Margaret Seymour?”
“The very same.” Duke didn’t seem surprised that Father was a bit overawed. “I cannot imagine anyone would question the propriety of our upcoming journey with her among us.”
“Certainly not.” The only other time Eve had seen her father so amazed by the mention of another person was when Artemis had first taken Eve and Nia under her wing and, as a result, into the social orbit of the preeminent and infamous Duke of Kielder. Did that mean Duke’s grandmother was highly regarded or terrifying? Heavens, Eve hoped it was the former.
Duke checked his pocket watch. He rapped quickly on the carriage door before opening it. To his grandmother inside, he said, “It is time to make our way to the ship.”
From within, a very proper, very English-sounding voice said, “I do not care to be standing about in the cold.”
“You will be walking about in the cold,” Duke said, his voice even and his tone one of equanimity. “Surely that must be an improvement.”
“Hardly.”
Eve exchanged glances with Nia. Their chaperone seemed in less-than-ideal spirits.
“Mr. O’Doyle is here with his daughters.”
For some reason, that declaration convinced his grandmother to step from the carriage. Duke helped her with a very masculine grace. His grandmother emerged with an air that leaned more toward aristocratic than merely mannerly.
She wore a flawless, thick reddingote in a deep shade of indigo, with intricate black embroidery details perfectly matched to her black gloves and tall, black bonnet with a large, curling feather in the same indigo as the coat. Artemis, an undisputed arbiter of fashion, would have approved of the ensemble.
Once the older lady had both feet on the ground, Duke pressed on with the matter at hand. “Grandmother, this is Mr. O’Doyle of Tulleyloch in Fingal, and his daughters, Miss O’Doyle and Miss Nia O’Doyle.” He then looked at Father, Eve, and Nia and said, “This is my grandmother, Mrs. Seymour of Dublin.”
Mrs. Seymour dipped her head a little—a very little. Father answered with a deferential bow. Eve managed a curtsy without laughing, though it took effort. Nia appeared to be struggling in the same way. Overtly pompous displays had always struck them as entertainingly absurd.
The regal grande dame eyed them both with an analyzing air. “Are they twins?” The question, Eve could only assume, was directed to the lady’s grandson.
Duke must have come to the same conclusion, as he was the one who answered. “They are not twins, and neither are they unable to answer questions.”
Mrs. Seymour’s lips pursed a bit before her expression relaxed and assumed a more civil set. She turned toward Duke. “I am allowing myself to be petulant again, I fear.”
While Duke didn’t smile, something in his eyes leaned a bit in that direction. “I have full faith in your impeccable gentility, Grandmother.”
The very picture of elegant etiquette, Mrs. Seymour addressed Father. “We will make certain your daughters arrive safely in Surrey.”
He dipped his head. “Thank you, Mrs. Seymour.”
“Sir,” Duke said, “would you be so good as to accompany my grandmother to the ship?”
“Of course.” Father offered the lady his arm, showing himself to be as versed in social decorum as any Society gentleman, no matter that they did not always give him credit for being so. The two of them walked slowly toward the waiting ship a few yards down the harbor.
Duke looked to Eve and Nia. “Were your traveling trunks already taken to the ship?”
Trunk s , he had said. Plural.
“We’ve only one trunk between us, and it is on board already,” Eve said. “Our reticules we’ve chosen to lug about with us.” She raised the hand on which hung her drawstring bag.
If he was shocked by their lack of possessions, he didn’t allow even a hint of it to show in his face. He simply nodded and motioned for them to begin walking with him toward the ship.
“Thank you for arranging all this,” Eve said. “We’d not have been able to make the journey otherwise.”
“The Huntresses bested the Pack quite soundly in last Season’s competition. Though I feel I must point out, I was not present for the majority of it, which is likely why we lost.”
“And yet, you are the one making good on their debt.” Nia sighed quite dramatically.
“I am a saint among men,” Duke said dryly.
Eve grinned. He had a very subtle sense of humor, one she’d seen emerge now and then when their groups had gathered together. “I have never traveled in the company of a saint before. These next few days ought to be... heavenly.”
“I should likely warn you about the next few days.” Duke’s eyes settled on his grandmother stopped just ahead at the point where they would be boarding the ship to take them across the Irish Sea. “My grandmother is not overly happy about this arrangement.”
Oh dear.
“Does she not wish to go to England?” Nia asked.
“She’d been planning to, actually. My father was to accompany her directly to our family estate in Lancashire, but he changed the plan in what was, almost literally, the last possible minute. She is not best pleased.”
“With your father?” Eve guessed aloud.
“With me, unfortunately.”
They’d nearly reached the boarding spot. “Why with you?”
“Shoot the messenger, as it were.”
Nia tipped her chin at a defiant angle. “We will not allow her to shoot the messenger.”
“And why is that?” he asked.
Eve answered, knowing by instinct what Nia’s response would be. “Because the messenger is our only means of getting to this house party.”
He didn’t smile, let alone laugh, but Eve thought she saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
See if you girls can’t manage to make the lad smile between here and Surrey , Father had said. What would it take to get him to not merely smile but to grin as well? An unabashed expression of enjoyment and mirth?
Duke accompanied his grandmother across the short, temporary bridge between the ship and the dock.
Father hugged Nia and Eve in turn. “Enjoy yourselves, girls. Be happy and delighted, and look after each other.”
“We will,” Nia said as she stepped from the dock and toward the ship.
“Try not to let your mind be heavy,” Father said to Eve in quieter tones. “I have not abandoned hope of things turning around for us.”
Father always had been very hopeful and optimistic, even in the face of unbeatable odds. He wasn’t careless nor foolish, but neither was he easily defeated.
“Something will work out, Father,” Eve said. “It always does.”