Page 59 of Faithless Vows

One of the older men snorts. “Aye. And he still might. Just need to get this bit of business settled.”

I manage to lift my head long enough to see a door at the back already standing open. They drag me through it, cold air hitting me the moment we cross the threshold, and then they drop me inside. I hit the stone floor hard on one shoulder. I turn my head and look around. The room is small and square, with stone walls and no window. A single bare bulb hangs high from the ceiling. A blanket lies crumpled in one corner, and a bucket sits beside it.

Declan’s voice follows me in, thick with contempt. “You should’ve stayed in Boston.” The door slams and the bolt drops on the other side.

I roll onto my back with a groan and stare up at the bulb, my breath fogging in the cold air. For a moment I just lie there tasting blood, trying to breathe past the pain wrapped tight around my ribs.

Then it hits me. Holy hell. I’m in Ireland. I actually made it.

I start laughing then, low and hoarse and half out of my head from pain, because they don’t understand a goddamn thing. They can beat me black. They can starve me. They can leave me rotting in the dark.

I’m not signing those papers.

And I’m not leaving Ireland without my wife.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Alannah

I sit at the kitchen table with Grandda’s ledger open in front of me, working my way through the receipts his men left for me earlier. My tea and the pot sit nearby. Every few lines, I reach for the cup, letting the warmth sink into my fingers. The weather has been bitter these past few weeks, and even with the range always going, there’s still a chill in the house.

The back door swings open, letting in a rush of cold air before Catríona strides in. She kicks it shut behind her, unwinds her scarf, and hangs her coat on the hook by the door. Then she drops into the chair across from me, folds her arms on the table, and lays her head on them. I write the next figure into the ledger without looking up.

When I carry on as though she isn’t there, Catríona lets out a long groan. This isn’t the first time she’s arrived like this. Heck, it isn’t even the first time this month. There’s no point asking what’s wrong. I already know. Another of her da’s men must have come by to talk business, his daughter in tow, hoping Finn might take an interest and a match would come of it. Catríona told me her da had promised neither she nor Finn would ever be forced into a match, but that hasn’t stopped the steady parade of daughters through their front room. Finn usually finds some reason to disappear, leaving Catríona to entertain the girl on her own. Lately, she’s taken to coming here afterward to tell me all about it. I know how much she hates being left with them, but she gets so woeful about the whole thing that I can’t help finding itfunny. The last time I laughed, I had to listen to her complain about that too.

She groans again, louder this time, and I smother a smile. Fine. I get the picture. I finish the line I’m on before setting down my pen and getting another cup from the dresser. When I fill it from the pot and set it beside her, Catríona straightens. “Thanks,” she grumbles before taking a sip.

I nod and pick up my own tea. “How long was it this time?”

Just like that, her sulk vanishes, replaced by a smirk that makes her look far too pleased with herself. “They’re still there. Mam took pity on me and let me go.”

I laugh. “Was Finn home this time?”

Her smirk turns wicked. “Oh, he was. I expect he’s still in the front room entertaining Clare and her da. He watched me leave like I was abandoning him to his death.”

I shake my head, still laughing. “Well, you did abandon him, Catríona.”

She blows a raspberry at me. “Those girls aren’t there to see me, Lannie. Besides, he’s abandoned me twice this month. It was my turn.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” I hide another smile behind my cup. “Though I doubt Finn sees it that way.”

“He’ll survive.” Catríona reaches for the pot and tops up her tea. “After he slipped out the back as soon as Teresa and her da arrived last week, he’s lucky I didn’t—”

The front door bangs open before she can finish, and an angry voice carries down the hall. Catríona looks toward the hallway, then back at me. “That’s Róisín.”

Another voice cuts through hers, loud and rough.Declan.Our eyes meet for a split second, then we push back our chairs and hurry into the hall as their argument grows louder.

“You can’t keep it from her forever,” Róisín snaps.

“It’s not her place to know,” Declan fires back.

Catríona frowns. “What’s gotten into those two?”

I’ve no idea, but I’ve a feeling we’re about to find out. We round the corner and find Róisín and Declan at each other, both red-faced and shouting over one another. They break off when they see us.

Catríona folds her arms over her chest and fixes them both with a look. “Will someone tell us what you’re on about?”

Declan looks away. Róisín doesn’t. “Alannah—”