Damn it all. It was the answer he had expected but just damn it all anyway.
Reginald's mouth set into a hard line. He nodded once more, and then, leaned forward slightly. "I have learned something," he told her. "In the grand scheme of things it may not be very important at all. Indeed, as much as I've poured over it I must say it changes nothing for us. But it's a small bit of information we didn't have before, and in this place that feels damnably valuable." He was prepared to tell her everything there on the spot, he felt urgency rising in his guts, but something held him back.
"I have not told you my whole story, Cecilia," he said. "I should like to tell it to you now. The complete and unabridged version, if you will. But first. . . are there people here you trust? Wholly. Completely. People with good heads on their shoulders and won't rush to impulsive action on little thought? That council of yours, perhaps? I do not know that it would be wise that this information spread through-out the whole house, but I would like to tell you, and I shall trust your judgment on whoever you deem fit. If you and your people want me to go public with it, I will. For I truly do not know what is better for this group. If anyone would, I imagine it to be you."