Page 53 of The Devil Himself
The man’s watery blue eyes widened, and there was something about his expression that suggested he was excited to be perhaps the first person to get wind of a juicy bit of gossip. “Not trusted?”
“Neither he nor my other brother, Arthur Grey, are dealing with Gareth’s affairs. I am here at Gareth’s mother’s behest. Lady Hallowarren is worried about him and wants me to bring him home so that he can be with her during this trying time. He should only be gone a few days at the most. I’m sure you understand.” That clipped aristocratic tone brooked absolutely no argument, and the man nodded and bowed and scraped.
“Of course, my lord. Forgive me for?—”
Rys allowed a tight smile, oozing charm suddenly. “There’s no need to apologize, my good man. I understand that you have not had dealings with me previously, but from now on, it will be my man of affairs who handles all of Gareth’s necessities with the school.”
“Of course, of course. Just have him contact me directly.”
Luc fought not to roll his eyes. This was exactly the kind of blowhard he had dealt with his entire school career and was now dealing with for his son’s as well. The men in charge of educating their children often seemed too fond of power.
“Naturally. We men of influence need to find common ground with one another, do we not?” Rys asked.
Only Luc stood close enough to hear the grinding of Rys’s back teeth when he said this.
The man all but fell over himself. “Precisely. Let me call for your young man.”
“Thank you. It is a matter of some urgency.”
The headmaster scurried to find someone to send off for Gareth. “We will have them help him pack a?—”
“Just a few days’ worth of clothing for the travel. We have everything else he needs.”
With another officious little bow, the man practically ran from the room.
“That was rather imposing of you,” Luc murmured.
“Did you like it?” Rys turned that smoky stare on him, a tiny smile on his lips.
“I did. You play the lord well.”
“Ah, but I am the lord of the underworld, my dear.” Rys pulled out his watch and flipped it open. “I think we’re doing well, but I want to get back on the road.”
“We’re going to the house in Kent?” Luc knew the marquessate had many manor homes under its umbrella, but Kent was by far the closest to London, and was only just over a day by carriage from Eton.
“Yes. Should I send word to Julian to join us there with Hannah in tow?” Rys tapped his chin with one finger. “No,” he answered himself. “Better to divide and conquer. I believe Daffyd now has his hands tied, and Arthur will not be able to harm her if he comes after us instead.”
“Julian will watch after her,” Luc agreed.
“He will.”
It seemed an interminable wait before a young, uniformed attendant appeared with Owen’s son Gareth in tow. It was startling, when Luc saw him, how much he looked like Rys. With Owen gone, the only family he had to compare with his lover had been Daffyd and Arthur, who were pale shadows of Rys’s fine form, black hair, and gray eyes.
Gareth would grow up to look much like him.
Gareth’s eyes widened when he saw them. “Uncle Luc? What is it? Is it Mother?”
He gave Gareth as gentle a smile as he could muster. “No, lad. Your lady mother is well. This is your Uncle Rys.”
Gareth gaped. “Uncle Rys? I thought—” He flushed bright red, and his manners asserted themselves. “I mean, it’s very good to meet you.”
“It’s good to see you, lad.” Rys held out a hand, and Gareth shook it after staring at it for a moment. “I’ll explain on the way, but we need to get you out of here.”
Gareth’s eyes narrowed. “Is it Uncle Arthur?”
“Let us wait until we’re on our way.”
Rys scribbled his name on the ledger the regent held out to him, then steered Gareth out the door of the office. Luc took Gareth’s bag, bringing up the rear.
