Chapter Thirty-One
“Nia’s parents haven’t been informed that she is ill because the family can’t afford to receive letters.” Duke had, at last, managed a private conversation with his uncle. “I told Eve I would ask if you would frank a letter for her so she can write to her parents.”
“If I had realized she hadn’t written home, I would have offered myself when Miss Nia first took ill.”
Uncle Niles sat at the elegant desk in his library. Duke sat across from him.
“None of us knew,” he said. “Eve confided in me that her family’s finances don’t bear scrutiny. But even I didn’t guess that things were this bad.”
“It makes your father’s three decades of anger over his comparatively easy situation all the more frustrating, doesn’t it?”
Duke couldn’t imagine their struggles making the O’Doyles bitter and angry. “You said my grandmother has changed over the years. Did my father used to be different?”
Uncle Niles nodded. “When I first met him, he was... unsure of himself but always trying to convince others that he was self-assured. It was a little vexing, but he wasn’t like he is now. And there was already some tension between him and Penelope, but even seeing that, I wouldn’t have predicted the fracture that later split their family.”
“I wish I had known him then,” Duke said.
“So do I.” Uncle Niles’s expression was pensive. “I’ve found myself wishing a number of things had been different. And I wonder lately if maybe all this was allowed to go on too long and hurt too many people.”
Duke stood, a tense twist in his stomach. “Even knowing they can be unkind, I was still shocked at how they spoke to Eve. And all three of them believed I was overreacting when I told them not to rejoin everyone else for the remainder of the evening. I cannot comprehend how they could possibly not realize that they were so clearly in the wrong.”
Uncle Niles leaned back in his chair, his hands woven together and resting on his middle. “Perhaps because until now, when they have said unkind things to each other, to Penelope, to myself, to Colm, to you, they’ve been tiptoed around.”
“Kid gloves are the only way to keep the squabbles from becoming battles,” Duke said. “I don’t think I could have endured Writtlestone all these years without constantly soothing their ruffled feathers.”
“What changed?” Uncle Niles asked. “This time, you didn’t soothe feathers; you ruffled them.”
Duke had thought about it more than a few times. “I’ve spent the majority of this house party doing everything I can to prevent them from hurting Eve. And they still managed to. I think I was as frustrated with myself as I was angry with them.”
“What happened between you?”
Duke sat on the window seat. “I told them their behavior was abominable. They disagreed and haven’t spoken to me since.”
Uncle Niles smiled. “I meant between you and Miss O’Doyle. When you first arrived, the two of you were all smiles and tender glances. And then suddenly, you didn’t seem to want anything to do with her. She looked confused at first, then dejected.”
“Dejected?”
“You’ve been quite thoroughly breaking her heart, Duke.” Uncle Niles narrowed his gaze a bit, the look one of scrutiny. “Yet, you pushed back for the first time against your parents and grandmother in defense of her. You came in here to ask a favor on her behalf. I’m not entirely certain what to make of the contradiction, and I suspect she isn’t either.”
Duke rubbed at the tension in his temples. “I have been trying to protect her.”
“From the Seymour family animosity?”
“And from a future that wouldn’t be what she deserves. I—” Pacing seemed his only option. “I’ve always liked Eve. She’s interesting and clever, and she’s always been enjoyable to talk with. I didn’t realize until we reached Fairfield how much that friendship had grown into something deeper. A life with me is inextricably tied to the kind of treatment she endured during three kingdoms. And though I’m making my first strides toward a future away from Writtlestone, it isn’t—I’m not—”
“Establishing your Writtlestone-distant life will take time,” Uncle Niles finished for him.
“I know how it feels to have people who are supposed to care about me make promises that they don’t keep—that they won’t keep.” His parents had told him countless times that they would leave aside discussions of their grievances during his school holidays. They’d often promised to be civil when discussing their family in the company of others. Father had promised not to disrupt this house party but instead take Grandmother directly to Writtlestone. All those promises had eventually proved empty. “I don’t want to do that to Eve. Keeping a distance and putting a stop to what was beginning to grow between us seemed best.”
“I think she has shown herself well able to navigate difficult things. Perhaps instead of protecting her, you should start trusting her.”
Duke’s steps took him back past his uncle’s desk. “I do trust her, but I also love her too much to tie her to the misery I know she would experience connected with us.”
Uncle Niles stood and crossed into Duke’s pacing path. He looked at him, holding his eyes with the firm, intelligent, caring expression that seemed so ingrained in him. “Did you hear what you just said?”
“ Misery ? Believe me, I long ago discovered the proper adjective for life with my parents.”
“No.” Uncle Niles set a hand on his shoulder. “You said you love her.”
Love . He had said that. The accuracy of it, the truth that underlay it swelled in his heart on the instant. He loved Eve. How had that happened? “Two weeks ago, I would have, honestly, said she was a friend.”
“Some of the very best love stories begin as tales of friendship.” His Uncle didn’t seem as struck by Duke’s discovery as he himself was. “It is noble of you not to want to see her hurt. But you are already beginning to forge a new path for yourself that does not have to inevitably include that. You’ll be living away from Writtlestone, which will grant you distance in which to find your footing and discover if that distance is enough to lessen the pain your parents and grandmother too often inflict. There is every chance you will discover an aptitude for and enjoyment of politics, which will give you a purpose and focus. Your friends, Duke, are very much like mine were at your age and still are: family in all the ways that matter.” Uncle Niles held his gaze. “Don’t abandon a life of love and happiness because the path to reaching it isn’t going to be quick or easy.”
He couldn’t remember his father ever taking time to give him encouragement and direction and needed clarity. He’d offered advice now and then, and he did listen when Duke spoke of his ambitions or concerns. But their discussions never remained off Father and his grievances for long. Duke was beginning to realize how much he had, in essence, raised himself.
He squared his shoulders. “That life is a possibility worth fighting for.”
“Yes, it is.” Uncle Niles made his way back to his chair, though he didn’t sit immediately. “I hope you plan to work hard for it as well, because I make a point of severely overworking my secretaries.”
“I will endure my suffering with as much dignity as I can manage.” Lud, it felt good to be lighthearted for a moment.
And he was still grinning when Eve stepped into the library.
“Here you are.” Seeing her dimple made him realize how seldom she had smiled the last few days.
“You’ve been quite thoroughly breaking her heart, Duke .” Uncle Niles’s declaration rang anew in his mind.
She moved quickly toward him but stopped when she spotted his uncle. “I’ve interrupted, haven’t I?”
Uncle Niles shook his head. “You are most welcome, Miss O’Doyle.”
“Which actually puts me in mind of something I need to tell you,” Duke said. “I asked about having a letter franked.”
Eve watched Uncle Niles with hesitant hopefulness.
“I must apologize,” Uncle Niles said, “for not thinking to ask you sooner if you’d been able to send word to your parents. I will happily frank any letters you wish to send, Miss O’Doyle. Please do not hesitate to write to them.”
“Thank you, Mr. Greenberry.” She then turned to Duke. “I had such a wonderful conversation with the three ladies.” Those captivating eyes of hers danced and sparkled once more. “I’ve been so worried that the only options available to me were horrible ones.”
“I cannot imagine they would propose anything truly awful.”
“Your aunt said that Nia can remain at Fairfield until she is well enough to travel, no matter how long that takes.” Eve sighed. “I’ve been worried that the journey would prove too much and she would grow worse. But I also wasn’t in a position to ask if she could remain.”
“I wish you’d told me you were worried about that,” he said. “I could have assured you that my aunt and uncle, and Colm, for that matter, would not only have insisted that she remain but would also likely have been a little hurt that anyone would think they would toss out an ailing person.”
Eve gave him a dry look. “And when could I have asked you, Duke? While you were refusing to acknowledge my existence? Or ought I to have waited until after you told me to solve my own problems?”
Uncle Niles didn’t quite manage to hold back a snort of laughter at that. “She’s not wrong.”
Duke couldn’t argue with that. “Would it help if I told you my idiocy was inspired by a noble cause?”
Eve smiled once more, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Noble stupidity is better than the alternative, I suppose.”
“I am legitimately sorry for that ‘noble stupidity.’”
Though she didn’t stop smiling, there was still hesitancy and a little pain in her expression, and it struck him right to the heart.
“You’re still wary,” he acknowledged. “And that’s fair. I’m simply grateful you haven’t disavowed me entirely.”
“If I had, I wouldn’t be able to tell you that I have secured a position already.”
“You have?” A multitude of reactions swam around in his mind: relief, excitement, nervousness, confusion.
“Mater has been looking to hire a lady’s companion,” Eve said. “She offered the position to Daria during the Season, and we all assumed it was nothing more than an act of generosity to help her escape her parents. But Mater said she was and is still in earnest.”
“A miracle,” Duke said. “And I cannot imagine any lady treating her companion with greater love and kindness than Mater will.”
Eve clasped her hands together, pressing them to her heart. “I would, of course, still rather be at Tulleyloch, but this will save my family. And that is worth having to be away from them.”
As if speaking of family conjured them, Duke’s parents chose that moment to barge into the library. Whatever Father intended to say as he entered died on his lips. He and Mother eyed Eve with obvious misgiving.
Mother spoke first. “I realize the door is open, but this arrangement still seems a bit more isolated than ought to be permitted.”
“Mr. Greenberry is in here,” Eve answered without sounding the least cowed by the clear criticism. She motioned to Uncle Niles at his desk.
Mother and Father looked that way in near-perfect unison. Uncle Niles offered the smallest dip of his head in acknowledgment. Then they looked back at Duke and Eve, their gazes lingering a little too long on her.
“My uncle can provide you with the ink and parchment you need to write the letter you’d hoped to write.” Duke was grateful to see understanding immediately fill her gaze. He’d offered her an escape, and she took it.
With Eve across the library, talking with Uncle Niles, Duke looked to his parents. “I am assuming you came searching for me specifically.”
“We have thought about and discussed your behavior last evening,” Father said.
“ My behavior?”
Mother’s expression turned mildly reproachful. “You were embarrassingly dramatic.”
I won’t have to live with this every day. There was some comfort in that.
“But,” Father said in placating tones, “we also acknowledge that we ought to have been more courteous. And I could have been more firm with your grandmother when she began making unkind remarks.”
It was an unexpected concession. “Both of those things would have helped.”
“We are not unreasonable people, Dubhán.” Father undermined the declaration a little with the defensiveness of that response.
“We cannot guarantee your grandmother will be courteous, but we will be.” Mother managed to sound even more defensive than Father had.
They weren’t doing much to convince Duke to believe them. But he hoped they really did mean to try. Changing his residence wouldn’t entirely sever his connection to his parents, so having them choose to be less hurtful would be a very helpful thing.
“And if Grandmother does choose to be unkind again,” Duke said, “will you be firm with her this time?”
“Do you intend to ask your aunt if she will be firm with our mother?” Father asked.
“My aunt is not the one I am talking to at the moment.”
Mother set a hand on Father’s arm, apparently stopping whatever he was about to say. “We will not cause you further distress, Dubhán. We promise.”
Promise. He would believe that if it actually proved true.