Page 13 of Faithless Vows

Alannah, Age Seventeen

I sit on the edge of the bed and fasten the straps on my heels, my fingers a little clumsy with nerves. When I stand, I walk over to the mirror and smooth my hands down my skirt, then catch myself and lift them away, worried I’ll crease the fabric.

Ronin had stopped by this morning out of the blue to tell me he was taking me out tonight. He didn’t stay long, but just before he left, he leaned in, kissed my cheek, and murmured, “Wear something nice.” And I’ve been a wreck ever since.

All day, I’ve been wondering where he’s taking me. We’ve gone to nice places before, but the way Ronin told me to wear something nice made me think something a little extra was called for. After he left, I worked myself into such a state that I went through my whole wardrobe, trying on one dress after another until my bed was covered with nearly everything I owned. And still, nothing felt quite right.

Mam came into my room and found me going back through the pile, holding up a dress I’d already decided against, trying to convince myself it might work after all. She looked from me to the dresses strewn across the bed. “What on earth happened in here?” she asked.

“Ronin’s taking me out tonight,” I cried. “He told me to wear something nice, and I haven’t got a thing to wear.”

Mam laughed and took the dress from my hands. “Well, as it happens, your father is taking me out todinner tonight too, so maybe we both need something nice to wear.”

By noon, Mam and I were in town, and with her help, I chose this sky-blue dress with a fitted bodice and full skirt.

Now, standing here turning from side to side in front of the mirror, I keep checking that the soft waves in my hair are still holding and that the seams on my stockings are perfectly straight. I can barely stand still.

I move to my vanity and reach for my small clutch, wanting to make sure I have my favourite rose-coloured gloss and a few extra bobby pins. My eyes land on the letter from Grandda that arrived yesterday. I pick it up, scanning his neat handwriting once more.

We write to one another often. I miss him—and Grandmam—terribly. I haven’t seen them since we left Ireland five years ago, not since things went sour between my da and Grandda over us leaving. The letters help me feel close to them still, like there’s still a thread connecting me to home.

He writes that he’s glad I’m happy. That when my father first told him about the match he made with Cormac, he had lain awake a night or two afterward, worrying over me—wondering whether I’d be bound to someone who didn’t know my worth, or wouldn’t treat me with the care I deserved.

What eases my mind now is hearing that the lad your father chose seems to be making you happy. I’m glad Ronin is turning out to be a good match for you and that you seem content with him.

My eyes drift to the bottom of the page, where his writing grows a little heavier.

You always did shine when you felt safe,he writes.Just remember, shine or no, you’re never without a place to land. There will always be room for you here.

Then, like he does in every letter, he reminds me again about the small book of names and numbers he pressed into myhand before I left Ireland, and about the bank account he set up for me then—the one that’s mine alone.

For if you ever need it. And I pray you never do.

I set the letter back down on the vanity. The blank sheet of stationery beside it can wait until tomorrow.

All I can think about right now is tonight.

Mam knocks lightly on the door before opening it. “You about ready, Lana? Ronin just got here.”

She steps inside, already dressed for her evening out with Da. “You look lovely, Lana,” she says. “Ronin won’t know what to do with himself.”

“Thank you, Mam,” I say, smiling at her. “You look really nice too.”

She pats my cheek. “Go on,” she says. “Wouldn’t want to keep Ronin waiting.”

I take one last steadying breath before I head downstairs. When I reach the bottom, Ronin is in the front hall, speaking quietly with Da. He looks up at me, his eyes taking me in before he gives me that smile, the one that always makes my heart trip all over itself.

He claps Da on the shoulder and starts toward me, and for a second, all I can think is how handsome he looks. He’s wearing a charcoal grey suit that fits perfectly across his broad shoulders, with a crisp white shirt underneath and a deep navy tie, my favourite on him because it brings out the bright green of his eyes. His dark hair is freshly cut and combed back.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

I duck my head, heat rising in my cheeks. “You told me to wear something nice.”

“So I did,” he murmurs, and pulls me close. His arms come around me, and the familiar scent of leather and cedarwood surrounds me, the English Leather cologne I gave him last Christmas.

When he lets me go, he reaches for my coat from the hook by the door and holds it open for me. I slide my arms into the sleeves, still feeling the warmth of him as he eases it over my shoulders. I say a quick goodbye toMam and Da, then Ronin takes my hand and walks me out to the car.

He opens my door for me, but before I get in, I look up at him. “Can I at least have a hint where we’re going?”