Page 51 of All My Broken Dreams

“Thank you, Rowena,” the Black said stiffly. “I won’t be joining you in the festivities. That is reserved for the students of Locksley Hall and Harry’s friends to enjoy. Casey will see you home safely. If there is anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to ask. I am at your disposal.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Everyone seemed to be shouting all at once. They walked into an ancient bar that was packed with young people holding pints of beer and yelling at each other in an incomprehensible dialect.

Robbie scanned the heads in the crowd for Deacon’s nut brown hair and solemn dark eyes.

“He’s not here,” she shouted to Casey who was elbowing his way to a booth. “I can’t see Deacon anywhere. Should I text him and let him know where we are?”

Casey nodded, gesturing. “Sit down before someone grabs your seat. It’s dog-eat-dog in here tonight and I don’t have the strength to stand.” He snapped his fingers at a waitress carrying a tray of drinks over her head. “Two pints of ale and bring us a plate of sandwiches from the kitchen. We’re not going to eat off the platters set out for this crew,” he said to Robbie. “That way lies madness. Now, what were you saying?”

The booth was constructed of wood, thick upholstery, and was practically soundproof.

“I’m just going to let Deacon know where we are.” She pulled her phone out of the leather satchel she found in the back of Harry’s closet. It looked like something their father would have given him. David Listowel was a total throwback.

“Do you have to?” Casey asked. “He won’t feel comfortable in this crowd. That’s probably why he isn’t here. It’s hard for him to mingle with the students. He’s too old for one thing. And he’s the janitor. Alright, I’m going to say it. Deacon could better himself but he won’t. It’s as if he takes warped pride in sweeping up other peoples’ rubbish. He doesn’t read. He doesn’t listen to music. He takes no interest in art or culture. Is it any wonder he is not fit to bring along to dinners and social gatherings?”

“But he was invited to this, wasn’t he? If he is not fit, then neither am I. I’m not in college and I haven’t entered a museum in over a year.”

Casey shook his blonde head. “It’s not the same. You’re not going to end your days as a dolt. Deacon is hell bent on remaining as stupid as possible. He uses my father as an excuse for not learning anything when all he has to do is ask.”

Robbie took the glass of beer from the waitress with thanks. The woman set a platter of assorted sandwiches on the table between them. Someone in the bar caught sight of Casey and yelled to him.

Casey waved him off and lifted his pint in salute. “To the brother I never knew and his sister that I hope to know better.”

Robbie took a sip feeling deeply uncomfortable. “Maybe because it was Deacon who took care of me when I first arrived,” she said aloud. “Maybe that’s why I have a different impression of him. He saved my life, did you know that? I was attacked and he came out of nowhere to rescue me.”

Casey shook his head again, ruefully, with a hollow laugh. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this. Believe me, thisgives me no pleasure. Deacon didn’t come out of nowhere. He was following you. He told my father all about it. They knew you were in Edinburgh to find Harry and my father instructed Deacon to keep an eye on you. All this time that he has been spending with you has been at the direction of Lord Manderville.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. “That can’t be true. Not the way you’re telling it. Deacon told me his uncle instructed him to stay away from me. He thought we were getting too close and Deacon was going to get hurt.”

Casey leaned forward, helping himself to a sandwich. “I love my father but he can be ruthless. He isn’t concerned about Deacon getting hurt. He’s concerned about Deacon losing his head over you and spilling our secrets. Father takes Fuil Bratach very seriously. Trust me, Deacon knows full well what he’s doing when it comes to you. He’s spying on you for the Black.”

She set her food down, her appetite gone. “He isn’t. He can’t be.”

Casey’s handsome face softened. His eyes lost their cynicism. Without a word, he reached into the voluminous coat he was wearing and pulled something out of the pocket. Robbie couldn’t see what it was until he placed it on the table.

“Then explain this. Deacon brought it to us a few days before Harry’s body was discovered.”

Thus began our longest journey.

Harry’s missing mug.

Deacon sat with Mrs. Cameron and some of the senior members of Locksley Hall Academy staff to raise a glass to Harry Listowel.

“You should be down at the pub with the others,” Mrs. Cameron said. “You shouldn’t be stuck here with us old folks.”

“I’m not a student,” he said. “Staff and students don’t mix. The faculty are holding their own reception in Lord Manderville’s office. I’m where I belong, Mrs. Cameron.”

“Suit yourself butI think your place is with Robbie Listowel. It is her brother she’s lost in a cruel way and it is you she has relied on to help her find him.”

“She has Casey Manderville looking out for her.”

“Casey Manderville looks out for himself first and foremost. You and I both know that. She’s in with a crowd of students at the pub, people she doesn’t know from Adam, with only Casey Manderville to turn to if she has another one of her attacks.”

Deacon scowled into his plastic cup of spiked punch. “She hasn’t had an attack in a week. She went to the funeral, no problem. I think she’s cured.”

“A person doesn’t get cured of a thing like that. If anything, our Robbie has only gotten better at hiding her anxiety and when she can’t do it anymore, when the pressure gets too much for her–look out. She is going to collapse. I had an auntie with the same condition. Took to her bed and didn’t come out.”

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