Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Pack and the Huntresses had settled upon a parlor game for that night’s entertainment. Nia felt equal to participating in something sedate and quiet, and everyone wished for her to be part of the festivities as much as she was able. Unfortunately, all the people gathered at Fairfield would be participating.
Duke wasn’t overly worried about his aunt and uncle being disruptive. And he suspected the Fortiers would not cause difficulties either. But his parents and grandmother were another matter entirely.
“Do we place the warring parties on the same team or on opposing ones?” Charlie asked Duke under his breath as everyone was settling into the drawing room.
“It won’t matter,” Duke said. “They’ll make trouble no matter which we choose.”
“I’m beginning to understand a little better why you never seemed eager to return home during school holidays.” Charlie shook his head.
Duke nodded. “The trouble they cause never ends.”
“You know that you are always welcome at Brier Hill, don’t you?”
Duke smiled a little. “I know, and I’m grateful to you and Artemis for that. For now, I’m heading to London after the house party and will stay there with my aunt and uncle.”
“And when the Greenberrys leave London?” Charlie asked.
“They’ve said I can stay here, which I intend to do.”
Charlie didn’t look surprised, but he did seem a little wary. “Do your parents know yet?”
“No. And I likely won’t tell them until the last possible moment.”
Charlie nodded with emphasis. “Maybe wait until they’re home and send a letter.”
It wasn’t a bad idea, actually.
Duke’s gaze wandered, as it had all evening, to Eve. She sat beside her sister on a sofa. Nia looked spent, but so did Eve. Was anyone comforting her ? She needed a respite from everything weighing on her. Duke was being granted that by his aunt and uncle, but Eve seemed to be drowning.
There had to be something he could do that would help in the moment without hurting in the long term. There had to be.
“What game are we playing this evening?” Grandmother’s disparaging tone indicated that she would be unhappy no matter what had been chosen.
“We have decided on three kingdoms,” Ellie said with a perfect mixture of excitement and deference. That might help lean Grandmother toward graciousness.
“An entirely unchallenging game.” Grandmother proved Duke wrong in an instant. She meant to be petulant.
They’d been freed of Mme Dupuis’s presence, who had shown herself entirely capable of ruining even the most enjoyable of games. How frustrating that Grandmother was filling those shoes so readily.
“I hope you will be on our team, Mrs. Seymour,” Newton said in what they had labeled his “barrister voice” while at Cambridge. “You must be very adept at Three Kingdoms to find it so simplistic.”
Grandmother seemed to sense that there was a hidden criticism in that but couldn’t quite identify it.
To Father and Mother, Scott said, “We are forming the opposing team. I hope you’ll join us.”
With her brow drawn, Mother said, “I don’t know that an American would be overly adept at games of wit.”
“True,” Father said without hesitation.
Shocked silence settled over the room, all eyes on Duke’s parents. Uncle Niles’s lips were pressed together in an obvious struggle to keep quiet. Somehow, Mother and Father managed to make things worse than had seemed possible.
Newton came to the rescue once more. “The Seymours can be on our team.”
Scott turned to Colm. “Do you harbor any unexpressed doubts about American intelligence?”
Colm smiled broadly. “None whatsoever. Consider me a stanch member of your team.”
Far from looking abashed at their own inexcusable behavior, Mother and Father ruffled up, whispers passing between them about how very typical it was for a Greenberry to side against them.
The teams were quickly formed after Mother and Father’s blunder. Duke made certain that he was on the same team as his parents since that would make it easier to rein them in if need be. If. He’d long couched his concerns about their behavior in terms of possibility rather than inevitability , though the latter was far more accurate.
Charlie was elected to be the first guesser and, as such, walked with bouncing step into the corridor, closing the door behind him. The Pack and Huntresses all turned in near unison to Artemis.
She laughed. “You are hoping I will think of something my Charlie will never guess?”
Nods answered.
“He is one of the most intelligent people I know,” Artemis said. “There is very little that he cannot sort out.”
“Likely because he’s not American,” Toss said, almost keeping the laughter out of his voice.
“That should be what Charlie has to guess,” Daria said. “‘An American.’”
They all immediately agreed that that was a good option. Duke watched his parents for signs of offense, but they sat in displeased, somewhat haughty silence.
Charlie was brought back into the room, grinning with excitement. Games were among his favorite activities. He’d always been incredibly diverting. He eyed the gathering, likely debating the person to whom he ought to pose his first question. After only a moment, he chose Daria.
“To which kingdom does the thing thought of belong?” Charlie asked.
“Animal,” she answered before clasping her hands over her mouth. From behind her hands, she said, “I do hope that answer does not give offense.”
Gillian leaned a bit toward her. “Not the least offense. It is the correct answer, after all.”
“Correct but potentially offensive.” Charlie’s eyes narrowed in thought, but his smile didn’t fade. He spun around and questioned Tobias. “The thing thought of is a person?”
Tobias laughed. “Some would say so.”
That brought laughter from the group. Scott good-naturedly declared that answer “misleading and offensive.” His objections, of course, led to even more laughter.
Charlie turned directly to their resident American, studying him a moment. “How specific did the group decide to be?” he said quite obviously to himself.
“This is rather a juvenile game, isn’t it?” Father grumbled to Mother in a voice not quite quiet enough.
Being the clever person he was, Charlie quickly turned that comment around. “Just juvenile enough for me to have sorted the answer after only two questions. The thing thought of is ‘Americans.’”
Charlie’s teammates cheered. The opposing team made a show of being quite disappointed, but there were smiles all around.
M. Fortier leaned a bit toward Uncle Niles and said, “His father’s whimsical nature and his mother’s intelligence.”
Uncle Niles nodded. “Quite a combination of the two.”
What would people say Duke had inherited from his parents? Few people were ever permitted to experience anything beyond his parents’ bitterness.
“Who should go next?” Daria asked. “Someone from our team this time, I think.”
That was the pattern of the game.
“Mrs. Greenberry,” Charlie suggested. “My mother’s told me she is quite clever. I think I’d like to discover how accurate the tales really are.”
“Far be it from me to prevent Julia from being exalted in her son’s eyes.” Aunt Penelope rose and, to the laughter of her husband and friends, made her way from the room.
“What should be chosen?” Fennel asked.
“Nothing too difficult,” Father said. “We’d hate for her to embarrass herself.”
“She won’t,” Colm said. “The dowager’s assessment of my mother’s intelligence is not inaccurate.”
“I’ve known her longer than you have,” Father countered.
“Have you though?” Uncle Niles muttered.
Duke jumped in. “Let’s choose a thing for her to guess. Perhaps something outside of the animal kingdom this time.”
“Might I suggest a knife?” Grandmother said. “One for stabbing someone in the back.”
Duke, who sat near enough to her to be heard without raising his voice, said firmly, “Stop.”
She looked at him with wide eyes. Did she truly think he wouldn’t object?
Father’s gaze shifted to Uncle Niles, who gave him a hard look of clear warning. Had there already been a not-in-public conversation between them? Or was Uncle Niles telling him one was forthcoming should things not calm down?
“What about hay?” Lisette suggested to the group. “Being such an accomplished horsewoman, Mrs. Seymour ought to think of it, but if she doesn’t, it will be quite a lark for her to realize she ought to have.”
“Excellent idea,” Artemis said.
Everyone agreed. Grandmother, Father, and Mother didn’t actually offer their thoughts. While their petulance was irritating, at least they were not choosing to be further insulting.
Aunt Penelope stepped inside once more. Her smile dimmed only when her gaze happened past her brother, sister-in-law, and mother. But she didn’t allow her gaze to linger there. Generally speaking, ignoring whichever members of the family were currently part of the warring faction kept skirmishes from immediately breaking out. Aunt Penelope’s willingness to help Duke, in essence, run away from home would trigger a battle soon enough.
She turned to Mme Fortier. “To which kingdom does the thing thought of belong?”
“ Legume ,” the Frenchwoman answered.
Duke glanced at Eve. She didn’t have any real grasp of French. He wished he were sitting closer to her so he could translate. She looked at him in the exact same moment. He’d translated for her a few times during the house party, and it seemed that she’d turned to him now for help again. He smiled, relief washing over him. But her expression grew ponderous once more, and the same pained sadness he’d seen in her eyes as she’d left the library returned.
“How are we to know if they are cheating if their answers are not offered in English?” Mother demanded.
Mme Fortier’s composure didn’t slip in the least. “I did not realize I had spoken in French. My answer was vegetable .”
Grandmother sniffed, the small sound overflowing with disapproval. Good heavens, they were being particularly difficult tonight.
Aunt Penelope turned to Nia. “Is the thing thought of that belongs to the vegetable kingdom a plant, as opposed to fungi or lichen or something of that nature?”
Vegetable was the term used in the game to encompass living things that were not animals, though it did not truly reflect all things that fell into that category. Aunt Penelope was wise to further narrow her options.
Nia nodded. “It is.” Her answer was quiet but steady. It was good of Aunt Penelope to so intentionally include Nia; she had missed out on so many things.
To Eve, Aunt Penelope asked, “Is this plant that belongs to the vegetable kingdom of the edible variety?”
Eve’s eyes pulled wide even as a laughing grin spread across her face. She looked to them all. “How do I answer that?”
“In the least helpful way possible,” Duke suggested.
That set Aunt Penelope’s team to good-natured shouts of disapproval, and the opposing team to cheers and applause.
“I believe I shall borrow an answer from Tobias,” Eve said, “and reply to your question with, ‘Some would say so.’”
Duke didn’t think he’d seen Aunt Penelope look so entirely delighted since this house party had begun. Her tender kindness to him that morning had further endeared her to him. He wanted to see her shed some of the weight of this family feud.
Nia, likewise, looked pleased to be taking part, which was a relief in itself. Knowing her happiness would help Eve worry a little less added to Duke’s feeling of relief. An evening of parlor games was proving a brilliant idea.
“I will choose to assume that Miss O’Doyle’s answer is an indication that this particular plant is edible but not in all instances or to all creatures.” Aunt Penelope began looking them all over, searching out the next person to whom she would pose a question. She settled on Duke. “Is this plant, which I suspect is eaten by some creatures, consumed by people?”
“Not by wise people,” he answered, finding a means of being just obscure enough to be slightly unhelpful.
But before his aunt could good-naturedly object or the rest of the gathering laugh, Father spoke up. “So, perhaps by Penelope.”
“Liam—” Uncle Niles cut himself off at just his brother-in-law’s name.
“Father, stop.” Duke didn’t manage quite as quiet a rebuke as he had with his grandmother.
His correction proved too little too late though. Much of the amusement in the room dimmed.
Aunt Penelope turned back to Uncle Niles. Though Duke couldn’t see her face, the look of loving concern on Uncle Niles’s told him his aunt was not so unaffected by the insult as she often went to great pains to appear.
“This sometimes-edible plant is consumed by animals, I can deduct. Is it eaten by domesticated animals?”
“Yes, dear.” No attempt at silliness or subtlety from Uncle Niles.
“You have but one more question, Penelope,” Grandmother said. “I believe this will prove beyond your ability.”
“This is a group which has shown itself prone to choosing things pertinent to the evening’s discussions or the people involved. The thing thought of is a plant that is eaten by domesticated animals. As I am one of ‘the people involved’ and I have been associated with one particular ‘domesticated animal’ for more years than our younger participants have been alive and those animals are quite known for eating a very particular plant, I will guess”—she looked directly at her brother and mother—“hay.”
Everyone applauded. Everyone except Duke’s parents and grandmother. They were so infuriating at times.
“Someone from our team now.” Charlie managed not to sound desperate to move on, but Duke knew him too well not to hear hints of it.
“Eve should be next,” Nia said. “She’s quite good at this game.”
Words of encouragement followed, and Eve acquiesced in her usual good cheer. She slipped into the corridor and closed the door.
“What should we have her guess?” Colm asked Nia.
“All the O’Doyles are excellent equestrians.”
“Something to do with horses, then,” Uncle Niles said, sitting with his arm around Aunt Penelope, whose spirits were noticeably dampened.
“What about a horse thie f ?” Father grumbled, eyeing Aunt Penelope sidelong.
“Father,” Duke said in a voice of warning.
“A horseshoe,” Fennel suggested.
“Excellent.” Tobias rose and moved toward the door, no doubt wishing to begin the guessing before Duke’s family could cause more consternation.
Eve stepped inside. She was smiling. The expression had its usual mesmerizing effect.
To Newton, she asked, “To which kingdom does the thing thought of belong?”
“Mineral,” Newton said.
She spun around and faced Aunt Penelope. “Does this thing of the mineral kingdom follow the pattern you discovered in bearing some connection to the group here tonight or to myself specifically?”
With a look of pride, Aunt Penelope said, “Indeed. Well puzzled, Miss O’Doyle.”
Eve spun once more. It was good to see her so obviously cheerful. She’d had so much on her mind of late. Her eyes met Duke’s, and he couldn’t hold back a smile, though she didn’t fully return it.
“Does this thing of the mineral kingdom, which has been selected, perhaps, because of a connection to this group, happen to be a knife, as was suggested earlier?”
Amused chuckles sounded.
“I’m afraid not.”
She narrowed her eyes in a theatrical look of contemplation. “It truly isn’t?”
“Nay,” Duke answered but with just enough hint of “neigh” to turn the chuckles to outright laughter.
Even Eve smiled at him. That dimple of hers tugged at his heart once more. “It’s to do with horses, then.”
In a very clearly enunciated grumble, Grandmother said, “Cheating is to be the order of the day, it seems.”
“It’s only a game, Grandmother,” Duke said.
“An already juvenile game that has to be made embarrassingly simple for simple-minded girls.”
Stunned silence settled immediately over the room once more. Shock rendered Eve pale, even as blotches of color spread over her cheeks. She looked horrified. Even more than that, she looked hurt.
Uncle Niles moved, clearly meaning to stand and, likely, break his word to Penelope to keep quarrels behind closed doors.
Duke stood, saving him the trouble. “It is time for you three”—he motioned to his parents and grandmother—“to retire for the night. Come along.”
“Come along?” Father scoffed. “We are not children to be ordered about.”
“You are behaving abominably, Dubhán,” Mother said.
“ I am?” Were they so mired in bitterness and a desire to punish Aunt Penelope that they didn’t even realize how horrible they were to everyone else? “I am far too tired to argue with you about this, and I have less than zero desire to enact a scene in front of so many people who ought not be subjected to this.”
“You do not usually resort to dramatics,” Father said in tones of dismissive bother.
Duke held his father’s gaze with a hard one of his own. “Do I look as though this is a mere performance?”
For the first time, the offenders seemed to actually believe him.
“I will walk with you,” Duke said firmly.
They rose, watching him with varying looks of surprise. He motioned to the open door, then followed them through it.
“You cannot be in earnest, Dubhán,” Grandmother said as they walked down the corridor. “This is unseemly.”
“Do not lecture me on uncouth behavior, any of you.” He took a breath to keep hold of his calm. The corridor deposited them in the grand entryway at the foot of the equally grand staircase. “The things you have said tonight would have been merely embarrassing if they hadn’t also been unkind. And I have never, in all my time in Society, heard anyone speak to a lady of the ton the way you”—he looked at his grandmother—“just did to Miss O’Doyle. I will endure a lot of things from the three of you, but not that.”
“She is an insignificant girl from a family considered unimportant even in Irish circles,” Father said. “Mother’s comment was, perhaps, overly harsh, but it isn’t as though she spoke a bit severely to royalty.”
Another quick breath to keep his temper in check. “Two things the three of you need to understand. The first: I do not care how ‘insignificant’ you consider any of my friends. I will defend every last one of them against any unkindness you show them.”
Mother’s hand was, of course, already pressed to her heart in a show of injured sensibilities. Grandmother appeared surprised but plotting. Father only looked more annoyed.
“The second is this,” Duke said, “and listen well because I will offer no further warnings. You have, both directly and indirectly, caused Miss O’Doyle pain, and you have done so at a time when she is away from her family and worried for her sister. At a time when you ought to have felt some flicker of human kindness, you have chosen to be cruel.”
For once, his warring family was silent.
“One word, one look of unkindness toward Eve O’Doyle,” he said, “and I will have you tossed bodily from this house.”
“Dubhán!” Mother’s voice rang with shock.
“Do not test me on this, because I will follow through.” He held his ground. “I will do what I must to protect her from you.”
“After all these years, you are siding against me.” Father looked at him the way one would a bucket of milk that had turned sour.
“You consider my insistence that you behave like a gentleman to be ‘siding against you.’ How has this become the person you are?” Duke shook his head. “Find something to fill your time this evening away from my friends. And if by morning you cannot discover within yourself the civility to treat Miss O’Doyle as you ought, then make arrangements to return to Writtlestone.”
He gave a single dip of his head before turning around. Duke was not an outwardly emotional person. He never had been. But in that moment, he felt a tremendous urge to go straight to Penfield and pummel bags of hay for hours while shouting to the heavens all the frustrated anger he felt. But he had just as strong a desire to lower himself to the floor and cry like a child, to grieve a lifetime that had been stolen from him by a family at war with itself and parents whose selfishness he was finally admitting to himself exceeded their willingness to simply love their son.
He followed the corridor back toward the drawing room, his spirits flagging. This was supposed to have been a joyful gathering of all his dearest friends.
As he came within view of the drawing room door, he saw Eve standing just outside it, watching his approach.
His heart dropped to his feet, pinning him to the spot. “I am so sorry, Eve. I’ve tried to shield you from them, and I’ve tried to put as much distance between them and you as I could, but it’s not enough. This is who they are. This is what they do.”
“You can’t stop them from doing the things they apparently always do in the end.” She’d stepped a little closer, but his heart ached at the remaining distance between them, both literally and figuratively.
“I don’t want them to keep hurting everyone.”
“And I don’t want them to keep hurting you. ”
No one else had stepped out of the drawing room. It was the closest to a private moment he’d had with her since their first evening at Fairfield. “My aunt and uncle have said that I can make my home with them indefinitely.”
She looked genuinely pleased for him. “You will have your respite.”
He nodded. “And not a moment too soon.”
“But do you know what will lift your spirits even more than that good news?” He welcomed the teasing he heard in her question. It was a glimpse of what they’d shared before, of what he’d had and lost. “Winning this game of three kingdoms. You see, I am about to guess horseshoe , which I am confident will earn our team a point.”
“I certainly do not want to miss that,” he said, managing a fleeting smile.
He followed her into the drawing room, wishing he could hold her hand as he’d once done, or at least walk at her side. She didn’t seem to intend to hold against him the unforgivable behavior of his parents. He was grateful for that.
But she was clearly not at ease as his friend any longer, and that broke his heart.