“Would you mind terribly if we postponed our dance and got some fresh air instead?” She peered at him through her lashes.
A sly smile slid over his features. “Even better.”
She took his arm, and they made their way to the French doors leading onto the balcony. On the way past a group of guests, the bold grin of Rylan Montgomery caught her eye, making her very glad to be on the arm of such an attractive man. Rylan nodded at her, and she raised her chin as they sailed past.
The cool evening breeze was a welcome relief after the crowded interior. Colleen led Jared along the balcony to a more secluded area where a low, stone wall overlooked her mother’s famous rose gardens. An almost full moon beamed subtle rays of light over the grass and shrubs, giving ghostly illumination to the marble statue of a woman in flowing robes, arms extended over a birdbath. Colleen breathed in deeply, hoping the soothing scent of her mother’s flowers would calm the unrest in her soul.
As though sensing her tension, Jared draped a casual arm around her shoulders. “Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?”
“Of course. It’s a wonderful evening.” The practiced line slid off her tongue. In truth, things had not gone at all as she’d hoped. She wasn’t actually planning to marry Gil, but sharing a few kisses in a dark corner could prove exhilarating.
“You look so beautiful in this lighting.” Jared’s husky voice whispered over her ear, sending shivers down her back.
The adventure she’d craved all evening became a sudden possibility. She half turned so that her face almost met his, giving him an open invitation. With a low growl, he lowered his mouth to hers. No longer the restrained gentleman, he pulled her tight against him and deepened the kiss. A thrill tickled Colleen’s belly as the taste of whiskey filled her senses. At last, here was a man who took her seriously. This was no schoolboy kiss. This kiss hinted at dark pleasures she could only imagine. His hand roamed up her ribcage to brush her bare arm. She jumped, sudden panic seizing her limbs as awareness of just how secluded they were infiltrated her dazed mind. She wiggled to ease out of his embrace, but Jared only tightened his grip.
“I’m thinking Mr. O’Leary might not like you manhandling his daughter that way.” The Irish lilt held an undercurrent of steel.
Jared jerked back, releasing his tight hold on her. “Who the devil are you?”
A wave of relief washed over Colleen, so intense it left her knees weak, followed just as quickly by a flare of annoyance. Grateful for the darkness to hide her flaming cheeks, Colleen pulled herself upright, her head high. “This is Rylan Montgomery, a cousin visiting from Boston.” Before she could continue the introductions, Rylan moved closer with the stealth of a leopard.
“And who might you be, sir?” His dark brows met in a frown.
“Jared Nolan, Colleen’s future husband.”
Colleen started at Jared’s bold claim. Since when had they discussed marriage?
“I’m thinking the key word here is future.” Rylan pinned Colleen with a hard stare. “Some of the guests are leaving. I believe your parents are looking for you.”
She swallowed and dipped her chin. “Of course.”
Rylan waited for Jared to precede him into the house. He raised one eyebrow at Colleen as she smoothed her hair and dress. “I won’t mention this to your parents—this time.”
Raw anger pulsed through her veins at the nerve of the man. “Aren’t priests supposed to be nice?” she hissed.
His low laugh only irritated her further.
She needed to find a way to get this meddling priest out of their home—and, more importantly, out of her life.
7
GILBERT, THE HASTINGSES are leaving,” Mr. O’Leary called to Gil from the doorway of the parlor. “Come and walk them out with me.”
Gil stiffened at the clipped words. As usual, James issued an order then disappeared, expecting absolute compliance.
“Excuse me, Miss Miller,” Gil said to the brunette at his side. “It’s been a pleasure speaking with you.”
Ignoring the disappointment on the girl’s features, Gil pushed past a group of women near the doorway and made his way into the corridor. He released a long breath, grateful for an excuse to leave the over-warm room containing too many young ladies vying for his attention. At dinner, he’d assumed the evening would be quiet, with only a few friends and neighbors, but Mrs. O’Leary must have invited every eligible girl from two counties tonight.
Pasting a smile on his face, he approached Mrs. Hastings standing beside her husband. “So lovely to meet you, Mrs. Hastings. I hope you enjoyed the evening.”
“Very much, Mr. Whelan.”
He turned to Aurora and bent over her offered hand. “Thank you for the dances, Miss Hastings. You are a most accomplished dancer.”
Her cheeks reddened. “As are you, Mr. Whelan. You must come and visit us at Belvedere now that Mother and I are here for the summer. Papa comes home on weekends, but during the week, we’re quite lonely.” She nudged her mother slightly.
“Oh, yes. Of course. We’ll call with a lunch date.”
Tension banded Gil’s shoulders, but he fought to keep his expression unchanged. “That would be”—dreadful—“delightful, I’m sure.”
Arthur Hastings took his wife by the arm. “Dorothy, Aurora, please wait for me in the auto. I need a word with Gilbert.”
Now what?
Once the women left, Mr. Hastings turned to him. “James tells me you’ve recently obtained a Business degree from Columbia.”
“That’s right, sir.”
“We could use a young man with your talents at our bank. Would you consider coming to work for me in the city?”
Gil blinked. He’d assumed the man wanted to speak to him about his daughter.
James stepped forward. “Sorry, Hastings. Gilbert has agreed to take over the books here. Between that and his work with the horses, I’m afraid he won’t have a spare moment.”
The edge to Mr. O’Leary’s voice surprised Gil. From the sound of it, his mentor expected him to dedicate the rest of his life to Irish Meadows. Gil would have to start dropping hints that this was a temporary position.
Mr. Hastings reached out and gave Gil’s hand a firm shake. “Our loss. But if you ever want a change, please think of me. I can offer you a substantial salary. Not to mention that working in the city could be advantageous to your career.”
Gil swallowed. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir. Thank you.”
Gil stood with Mr. O’Leary on the porch until the Hastings family’s automobile drove out of sight.
“The nerve of the man—trying to steal you out from under my nose.” James scowled as he leaned against one of the white columns. “If I didn’t need to be on his good side, I’d have had a few choice words for the rotter.”
Gil frowned. “I thought you liked him.”
James pulled a pipe out of his jacket pocket, followed by a box of matches. “Not particularly. But I respect his business sense.” He lit the pipe, drew in a long breath, and blew out a cloud of smoke. “Which brings me to the next order of business. It’s obvious Aurora is smitten with you. I need you to begin a formal courtship as soon as possible.”
The evening breeze snaked the smoke across the porch. Gil shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to think of what to say.
“What’s the matter? You’ve seen how attractive the girl is.”
“She’s very attractive.”
“So? What’s the problem? I’m not asking you to marry her—at least not yet.” He boomed out a hearty laugh. “We’ll wait and see how much money I need first.”
Gil couldn’t make himself laugh at the joke. Surely James didn’t expect him to marry Aurora for financial gain. Gil loosened his tie and undid the confining top button of his shirt.
James sobered. “All kidding aside, we really need your help.” His stare bored into Gil. “I know you’d never want to see us lose our home.”
The last shred of resistance leeched away, an
d Gil’s shoulders sagged. How could he refuse this man who’d given him so much? He sighed. “They’ve invited me to Belvedere. I’ll make a point of going soon.”
The relief on Mr. O’Leary’s face erased the worry lines from his forehead. He squeezed Gil’s shoulder with a beefy hand. “Thank you, son. I knew I could count on you.”
Rylan clapped with all the other guests as the music ended. Cousin Kathleen was indeed accomplished on the piano. Right now, flushed with pleasure at the applause, she resembled a girl of twenty instead of a woman twice that age. In fact, if Rylan could picture her as a young woman, he imagined she’d look just like Colleen. He wondered if Kathleen had been as precocious as her daughter, or if she’d always been the devout, focused woman she was today.
Rylan frowned, picturing that beast, Jared Nolan, pawing at Colleen. Though she’d hissed like an angry cat when he’d broken up their little tryst, Rylan hadn’t missed the relief that had crossed her features when Jared first released her.
Rylan pushed away from the wall, intent on finding another glass of delicious punch. As he made his way past the couples, he thanked the heavens above he didn’t have to worry about such things. Being a priest had the advantage of making him unavailable and therefore un-noteworthy to the single females. He fingered his white collar, worn tonight for that very reason.
Rylan ducked into the dining room, happy to find it empty for the moment, and headed straight for the crystal punch bowl on the sideboard. He used the ladle to pour the beverage into a ridiculously small cup and swallowed it down in one gulp. How was a man to quench his thirst with these thimblefuls?
The tap of heels on the tiled floor made Rylan glance at the door, just as Colleen swept inside. She stopped cold upon seeing him.
“Hello again, Miss O’Leary.” He raised his empty cup in a salute.
“Hello.” She moved swiftly past him and chose a glass.
“Allow me.” Rylan picked up the ladle and poured the cherry-colored liquid into her cup, thankful he didn’t spill a drop. “And where is your future husband at now?”
She sliced him with a glare of blue ice. “That’s no concern of yours.”
He set the ladle back in the bowl. Something about this woman affected him on a deep level. His intuition told him that her prickly nature was a mask for some hidden pain, and everything in him wanted to ease that pain. He watched her take a quick sip, her hands unsteady.
He moved a step closer until their arms almost brushed. “It seems to me,” he said slowly, “that a man should treat his intended bride with far more respect than Mr. Nolan was showing you. You’re an upstanding young woman from a good Christian family. I don’t see why he’d be thinking it acceptable to behave in such a forward manner.”
She jutted her chin out. “Maybe I wanted him to.”
“Do you love him that much?”
“I don’t love him at all.” Her eyes widened as she realized the mistake of her admission. She slammed the glass onto the table, red liquid sloshing over the sides to stain the white tablecloth. She glared at him, a mixture of pain and anger.
“Just leave me alone, Rylan Montgomery. I don’t need any more interference in my life.”
Thank the Lord the guests had gone home and Brianna could finally head up to bed. Her feet ached in the new shoes she wasn’t used to wearing. She couldn’t wait to take them off and lie down.
At the foot of the daunting staircase, she paused to gain the fortitude to climb it. Or perhaps she was secretly waiting for Gil to say good night before he retired. Disappointment settled on her shoulders. Other than the one dance they’d shared, they hadn’t had another chance to talk all night. Probably because he’d been too busy entertaining all the unmarried women who’d arrived.
Frustration pinched her heart as surely as the shoes pinched her toes. It seemed likely that Gil would never consider her as anything but a little sister. Yet the look in his eyes while they’d danced—one that had made her pulse leap—led her to hope he might feel something more.
She scanned the hallway, and with no sign of Gil, took one last peek into the parlor. Only the maids remained behind to clean up. Perhaps he was with her father in the study. She tiptoed to the doorway and listened outside for voices. Only a thin sliver of light shining under the door told her someone was inside. Should she go in? Would she find Gil there and be able to share a few moments alone with him? The notion made her heart gallop in her chest.
At the sound of footsteps crossing the room, Brianna jumped back from the entrance.
The door swung inward, and her father appeared. “I thought I heard someone lurking about. What do you want, Brianna?”
She raised her chin with a forced smile. “Only to say good night, Daddy. It was a lovely evening.”
The lines on his forehead eased a fraction. “I’m glad. You and Henry seemed to enjoy yourselves.”
“Henry was very . . . attentive.” More like smothering.
“I was going to wait to speak to you about this, but now seems as good a time as any.” He motioned her to follow him inside.
She groaned inwardly. Why hadn’t she just gone up the stairs? She could’ve been lying in the comfort of her bed with her feet raised in blessed relief. Instead, she stepped into the study and waited for her father to speak.
“Brianna, I think it’s time we discussed your future.”
The soles of her feet throbbed. She lowered herself to one of the leather chairs facing her father’s desk. Did she dare broach the subject of college? Or should she wait for a more opportune time, once Gil had had a chance to soften him toward the idea? “Yes, Daddy?”
“Tonight I gave Henry official permission to court you. It will make me very happy to join our family with the Sullivans.”
Brianna gripped the arm of the chair until her fingers ached. The desire to please her father warred with the unfairness of his demand. “What about what I want?”
Her father’s thick brows crashed together. “Why wouldn’t you want to marry a fine man like Henry?”
The familiar shiver of dread skittered down her back. “It’s just that I didn’t intend to get married so young.”
He blinked, seeming thunderstruck. “What else would you do?”
She bit her lip. “I . . . I . . .”
“Don’t stammer, girl. If you have something to say, spit it out.”
She stiffened until her spine felt as rigid as the poker standing beside the fireplace. “I want to continue my education and . . . go to college.”
His mouth dropped open. “Why on earth would you need to go to college? You have a bright young man interested in a future with you. Surely you wouldn’t throw away such a fine opportunity.”
Brianna shot to her feet and paced to the large hearth. “There’s plenty of time for marriage, after I finish college. Henry could still court me if he wishes.”
Her father slapped a palm on the desktop. “Court you long distance for two or three years? I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous.”
Under the glare of her father’s indignation, Brianna wanted to crumple. But she would not give him the satisfaction—not this time. “It might sound ridiculous to you, but not to me. I want to live in the city, see more of the world than this island. Expand my mind—”
“No woman needs to expand her mind.”
Brianna shoved her resentment aside and grappled for a compelling argument. “What about Aunt Fiona? Your own sister went to college and now teaches at one.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fiona always went against the grain. She made poor choices, and now she’s a bitter old maid living alone with her birds. Not the type of life you should aspire to. You need to focus on becoming a suitable wife to Henry. Learn wifely duties from your mother, as Colleen is doing.”
A harsh laugh escaped Brianna before she could check it. “Is that what Colleen is doing?”
Her father took an intimidating step toward her. “I’ll thank you to show your sister more respect, young lad
y. Colleen is the epitome of beauty and grace. You’d do well to try and be more like her.”
Brianna bit down hard on her quivering lip. There it was—out in the open. Her father’s blatant preference for his oldest daughter. The beautiful one who could do no wrong. Words of reply stuck in her throat, held prisoner by the lump of emotion she could not dislodge.
“We’ll have no more talk of this nonsense. I’ve told Henry he may court you, and you will accept his suit. Now I bid you good night.” He resumed his seat at the desk and turned his attention to the papers on his blotter, dismissing her like always.
A tidal wave of hurt threatened to crush her. Before her tears could betray her, Brianna fled the study—her dreams as battered as her aching feet.
8
GIL LED THE EBONY STALLION into the barn. He’d given Morgan’s Promise a good workout this morning and hoped his owner would be pleased with the horse’s progress. One of the wealthiest men in the country, Mr. Morgan paid Irish Meadows well for their services. He intended to race Morgan’s Promise in the states that still allowed the sport, and he expected his animal to be ready.
“Here you go, boy. You deserve a treat after your hard work.” Gil pulled a small apple from his pocket and held it out to the stallion. Velvet lips tickled Gil’s palm as Morgan took the offering. Gil stepped out, closed the stall door, and bent to retrieve a bucket of water to refill the trough. A sense of peace washed over him as he watched the magnificent creature slake its thirst.
This was where Gil belonged, working with animals that held no judgment, that loved him unconditionally despite his impoverished parents and his orphan status. Animals loved you for who you really were, not for the money you had or the social circles you graced.
Gil moved down the corridor to check on Georgina. The gentle mare was due to give birth any day now. Gil loved the spring, when new life filled the stables. Georgina’s head hung over the door as though she expected his visit. She neighed and tossed her head, eager for his greeting. Georgina held a special place in Gil’s heart. He and Bree had helped bring her into the world four years ago. With her gentle spirit, the lovely lady had captured both their affections.
Irish Meadows Page 7
