Page 55 of The Devil Himself
Gareth’s expression softened into a fond smile. “Yes, Mother is far more lenient with me. My father said that it was a failing on her part, but I can’t see how love can be a failing.”
“Well said. And absolutely true.” Luc patted Gareth gently on the leg, his heart aching for the boy. And for Rys, who did not have a mother like Hannah who had mitigated his father’s awfulness. “You’ll learn how to balance the two. You mustn’t let society drum the joy out of you.”
One of the things that Luc had learned at a hard cost was how to live his life for himself, but now, he felt as though he was balancing his responsibility to his title and his son with something that he dearly wanted. What he had with Rys gave him more than just a physical release. It gave him pleasure. It gave him joy. Their time together made him want to get up every morning and see Rys’s face and touch him and just be near him, which was worth its weight in gold.
“I’ll try to remember that.” Gareth gave him a grateful smile before he turned a curious gaze on Rys. “Uncle Rys, may I ask you something?”
“Of course. I may not have a good answer for you, but you may ask.” Luc knew the smile that was playing around Rys’s mouth now. It was ironic, and a little bit self-deprecating, but his mood was improving.
“Fair enough. What happened with you and grandfather? Father would never speak about it, and uncles Daffyd and Arthur just used to say that you were disowned. And that you deserved it.” Gareth appeared troubled, and Luc understood. How did one reconcile what Rys’s brothers no doubt said about him with the man in the carriage with the two of them?
Rys sat back, hands on his knees. “Well, they were half correct. I was disowned completely on my eighteenth birthday. Drummed out of the house and told that I was cut off, no more allowance and no more opportunities to live at one of the family homes.”
Gareth’s eyes widened, and his lips parted in shock. “But why would he do that? What did you do?”
Luc winced, because he knew very well that Rys hadn’t done anything more than be Rys. Slightly rebellious and resistant to his father’s plans.
“I told my father I wouldn’t go into the clergy.” Rys leaned his head back against the cushion on the seat and closed his eyes. “He refused to negotiate with me for any other vocation, and we had a row. A violent one. He struck me several times, and I told him that he would never do that again as long as I lived. There were other words spoken I won’t repeat, but he told me to get out.”
Rys’s tone and the tension in his body told Luc the tale had much more to it. Just to hear what Rys did say was hard enough. Luc could not imagine telling a son—if he had more than one—or even the one he had, that he was cut off, never to darken his door again. He loved his son fiercely and missed him every day that he was away at school, even though that was what one did. But should Damien send for him and tell Luc he wanted to come home, that he couldn’t do it, Luc would take him in a heartbeat and let him live at home again with private tutors.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Gareth said, reaching out to touch Rys, who started in surprise, his eyes opening to stare at Gareth.
“It was a long time ago.”
“And now you’re the Devil Himself.” Gareth’s voice took on a tentative note when he said the last.
Rys chuckled, the sound genuinely amused. “And what do you know of that?”
“Only that you own the most notorious hell in all of London.” He thought Gareth might admire Rys over that fact. Damnation, what boy wouldn’t? It was akin to having a pirate for a relative.
“Oh no, I think not. I think Deacon Collingsworth owns the mostnotorioushell in London. It’s called Dionysus. But mine is quite the thing. I think I’ve done well for myself.”
The coach made a sharp turn, and they all leaned to try to make up for it as they rumbled off the road and into an inn yard. The driver pulled the team to a stop before knocking on the roof. “Change of horses, my lords, if you fancy a break.”
“Shall we go get something to eat?” Luc stretched, his back popping. Riding in a carriage was always a nightmare, but he hadn’t wanted to leave Gareth alone in the conveyance to ride his horse or leave him with just Rys for company. It looked now as though Rys was coming out of his rage, but he could be cutting when a mood such as he’d been in most of the ride.
“Yes, please.” Gareth sat up straight, and when they opened the carriage door, he would have sprung out with the alacrity of a boy his age, but Rys held him back. “Stay here with him. I’m going to go and make sure everything is safe.”
“What a good idea.” He smiled at Gareth. “We’ll just make sure your uncle is not here yet.” He felt as though Arthur had still not even made it to Gareth’s school, and he hoped they were a good half a day ahead of him, at least, on the way to Kent. At the same instant, it never hurt to be cautious. Rys returned about five minutes later, opening the carriage door and letting them out. “Come along. I think that it’s perfectly safe, and the smells coming from the kitchen are divine.”
Luc had to smile because Rys steadied Gareth as he leapt down from the carriage and gave the lad a fond smile. It was more than he had expected because they were both very prickly and not quick to trust, which was a shame because their lives didn’t have to be as hard as they had been. Luc felt very lucky suddenly. He had been raised, yes, with a keen sense of his damn duty to the title, but also with parents who loved to laugh and to spend time with him and teach him about the joys of life.
At least up until they had married him off with no real say-so from him.
He took a deep breath as soon as he was out of the stale confines of the rented carriage. Even while the air was redolent of mud and horse manure, he had to admit that the scent coming from the kitchen of the inn was indeed exceptional, and he had high hopes for scones or maybe raisin buns or fresh bread with butter along with his tea.
Really, he thought things were going quite well.
Twenty-Three
Everything had gone pear-shaped in a heartbeat.
The hard rain had begun to fall while they were still at least two hours away from the estate in Kent and the road had quickly become a quagmire of ruts filled with sucking mud that tried to pull the horses and the carriage down into them.
Sauce Box Joe, who was riding on top of the carriage with the driver, had knocked and asked if it would be acceptable if they pulled off at the next inn, which was perhaps half an hour along the way, but then no fewer than ten minutes later, they had hit a particularly nasty rut in the road, and they’d lost a wheel.
Leaving Joe to protect Gareth and Luc and the carriage, Rys had taken the driver, and they had ridden the horses, which had been tied to the back of the carriage, into the next inn to see if there was a wheelwright who could fit them a new wheel.
