“I am delighted to announce Brianna’s betrothal to Mr. Henry Sullivan, son of our dear friend and neighbor, Mr. William Sullivan.”
Colleen sagged in relief as a surprised murmur wound through the crowd, followed by more applause. Her sister moved forward, unsmiling, to stand beside Daddy and Henry, her gaze fused to the floor. Never had Colleen seen such an unhappy-looking bride-to-be. Henry, on the other hand, beamed as he leaned over and kissed Brianna square on the mouth. At that moment, Gil pushed past Aurora and bolted from the room.
Colleen shared an arched look with Adam.
Interesting. Perhaps this betrothal, more so than Gil’s upcoming departure, explained the distance between Brianna and Gil. Colleen straightened as a seed of a plan formed. With Gil so distressed, she had the perfect opportunity to take advantage of his pain, and at the same time, free herself from an equally intolerable situation. She just needed to work out the details in short order.
Colleen smiled to herself. Since when had that ever been a problem for the mistress of manipulation?
Gil inhaled the crisp evening air, then blew out a long breath. He’d come out to walk the grounds, hoping the soothing sound of crickets would calm his inner restlessness. Leaning against the top rung of the white fence that surrounded the O’Leary property, he watched the moonlight dance over the fields. Not even such ethereal beauty could soothe his soul tonight.
His heart had shattered the moment Brianna had become officially betrothed to Henry Sullivan.
Though he’d been aware James planned to make the announcement tonight, nothing had prepared Gil for the searing pain that left him reeling when Henry had kissed Brianna right on the lips. Despite Aurora’s questioning glance, Gil had to leave the room to keep his emotions in check.
Thankfully, the Hastingses announced their departure soon afterward, and once their motorcar had roared out of sight, Gil refused to rejoin the party and pretend to be having a good time. He craved the darkness, where his black mood matched his surroundings, where he could nurse his pain in private.
From the front of the house, the noise of the last few guests leaving made its way to Gil. The uncomfortable truth sat heavy in Gil’s stomach like the overly sweet birthday cake he’d eaten. Tomorrow he would leave Irish Meadows and embark on his new life, away from the O’Learys, away from Brianna. After that, whomever Bree or her father chose for her to marry was none of his concern.
Then why did his fists clench with an overwhelming urge to hit something? To make someone else hurt as much as he did?
With a disgusted grunt, Gil pushed away from the fence and strode down the path toward the stables. He jerked open the door and entered the sanctuary, snatching a lamp from the hook as he went. The horses nickered and stomped in their stalls. Without thinking, Gil headed straight for Midnight’s stall, not sure whether he would groom him or take him for a wild run.
The white star marking on the horse’s dark head gleamed under the dim glow of the light Gil hung from an overhead hook. He opened the door and stepped inside the enclosure. Midnight gave a low neigh in greeting as Gil ran his hand over the silky coat. Melancholy as thick as morning fog engulfed him at the thought of leaving his four-footed friend once again.
“How are you doing, boy? Better than me, I hope.”
“I’m sure I can find a way to make you feel better.”
Gil jerked at the feminine voice behind him. He whipped around to peer out the door, but the empty corridor mocked him. “Who’s there?” He moved out into the open.
“Only me.” Soft footsteps rustled the stray pieces of straw on the floor.
His sharp gaze swung to the stall beside Midnight. Had Brianna followed him out here? A combination of dread and anticipation quickened his pulse at the notion of them sharing one last stolen moment together.
Instead, Colleen stepped out from behind the door. Disappointment crashed over him with the force of a hurricane.
“Don’t look so overjoyed to see me.” She smoothed a hand down the bodice of her lemon-colored gown.
Gil frowned at her obvious attempt to draw attention to her physical attributes. “What are you doing out here, Colleen? You’re not exactly dressed for the barn.”
Her lips curved up in a smirk. “I’m glad you noticed.” She sidled toward him, glancing at him from under her lashes. “I was beginning to wonder if you had blood in your veins . . .” She trailed a finger along the sleeve of his shirt. “Or ice.”
Gil forced his gaze to remain on her face and not move down the creamy skin of her throat to the accentuated curves below. “Whatever you’re looking for, you won’t find it here. You’d best get back to the house before your father misses you.” He took a step backward, wincing when the hard scrape of wood bit into his spine.
Colleen moved closer, effectively trapping him against the stall door.
As though reading his discomfort, she let out a low laugh. “I think I’ve found exactly what I need.”
Before Gil’s brain could register her intent, Colleen pounced. Her arms locked around his neck as she fused her lips to his. Shock paralyzed his limbs, freezing him to the spot. With supreme effort, he controlled his reaction and allowed anger to take over. He grabbed her wrists and attempted to pry them off, but she clung to him like a bur on a horse’s tail.
A sharp gasp echoed through the corridor, followed by the clatter of something skittering along the ground. Gil took advantage of Colleen’s surprise to set her firmly away from him.
“That’s enough.” He glared at Colleen, then swung around to see who had witnessed his humiliation.
Panic ripped through him, stealing his air. Brianna stood in the dim light like a fairy frozen in time. Tears stood out in her horror-filled eyes, her hand clasped over her mouth.
Regret and shame pooled in Gil’s gut at the betrayal he saw on her face. He took a halting step toward her. “Bree, this isn’t what you think.”
She shook her head, curls bouncing as she stumbled backward. “How could you? With my sister of all people?” On a strangled sob, she spun around and fled the barn.
Gil yanked his arm free. “Brianna, wait.” He sprinted after her, desperate to make her believe him. He couldn’t let her think what she was thinking. Despite her head start, he caught up with her easily on the front lawn and pulled her to a halt.
“Let go of me, you brute.” Tears flooded her cheeks as she twisted in his grasp to flail at him with her fists.
He endured her glancing blows, doing nothing to stop them. “Let me explain. Please.”
“Explain what? I saw the whole thing.” Her chest heaved with rasping sobs.
He stilled her assault by wrapping his arms around her. Though she felt as rigid as a plank of wood in his arms, Gil reveled at the feel of her. The familiar scent of her sweet perfume encompassed him. “Colleen kissed me. I was trying to fend her off.”
“Liar.” Colleen’s voice hissed near his ear. “A gentleman would never say such a thing about a lady.” She stood beside them, nostrils flared.
He’d been so consumed with Brianna, he’d forgotten all about Colleen. Now sharp anger rose in his chest. “And a lady would never force herself on a man.”
Colleen’s hand shot out. The sharp sting of impact with his cheek made his eyes water.
“Don’t ever speak to me again, Gilbert Whelan.” She picked up her skirts and stalked across the grass in the direction of the house.
His cheek throbbing, Gil kept hold of the still-struggling bundle in his arms. He couldn’t let Bree leave believing he’d betray her like that, especially knowing her volatile history with her sister.
“Colleen ambushed me in the barn. Please tell me you believe that,” he said quietly.
She kept her face averted, her cheeks pink.
“I did not kiss her back, Brianna. Surely you saw that much.”
“You probably wanted to.”
When her lip quivered, it took every effort to keep from bending his head and tasting those lips
again. The same ones that had haunted him these past two weeks.
He released one hand to cup her chin and raise her eyes to his. “The only O’Leary I have ever wanted to kiss, Brianna, is you.”
Colleen marched across the lawn to the stairs leading to the front porch. Her heart beat furiously in her chest. Had her plan worked? Had Jared been waiting for her in the stable as she’d asked and witnessed her little seduction scene? Or had Brianna’s unexpected arrival ruined everything? She daren’t look around to find out.
“What the devil is going on out here?” Daddy’s deep voice bellowed from the porch, halting Colleen’s feet at the bottom of the staircase. His glare swung from Gil and Brianna back to her.
Colleen’s fingers froze on the cold railing. She hadn’t counted on Daddy becoming involved in her little drama. At least not yet.
“That’s what I’d like to know, sir.” Jared materialized behind her, sending a cascade of chills up Colleen’s spine.
Head high, she turned to face him.
Coldness glittered in Jared’s pale eyes. “What is the meaning of this, Colleen?”
She kept her gaze level. “The meaning of what?”
“I want to know,” he said, stepping closer, steam rising from his breath, “why you were kissing Gilbert Whelan in the barn—like some common strumpet.”
She flinched away from him, her fear quite real at the violence she witnessed on his face. Now, in the heat of the moment, the well-rehearsed lines flew from her mind. “We . . . we got caught up . . . in a moment of passion.”
She sensed, rather than heard, the shocked gasp of Brianna’s naïve indignation.
Jared claimed Colleen’s arm in a grip that made her wince. “You and I are practically betrothed. How could you kiss another man like that?”
With no viable explanation, she simply shrugged.
He thrust her away, disgust curling his lip. “I’m afraid, Mr. O’Leary, that I must terminate our agreement. I can no longer marry your daughter.”
Colleen kept her head averted, not wanting to reveal any evidence of her smug satisfaction, and instead tried to appear remorseful.
“Won’t you come inside and discuss this in a rational manner?” Her father practically begged the man to reconsider.
“I’m afraid there’s no point. My mind is made up. Her beauty is not worth her fickleness.” He spared Colleen one more glare before stalking away.
Colleen’s breath escaped her lungs in one great whoosh. When she dared peek at her father, her heart pinched. Never had she seen him so angry with her. To make matters worse, Rylan Montgomery stood behind her father on the porch, an unusually somber expression shadowing his face.
“Brianna, you’d best find your fiancé and bid him a proper good night.” Daddy aimed furious eyes at her. “Colleen, I will see you in my study immediately.”
Like a convicted criminal heading to the guillotine, Colleen followed her father into the house—and attempted to ignore Rylan’s pitying stare as she walked past.
14
THE COOL EVENING BREEZE sent tremors racing down Brianna’s arms and back. She clasped her arms around her body, whether to get warm or to shield herself from further pain, she didn’t know. After the last tortuous two weeks, she thought nothing could add to her grief. But the pain of finding Gil locked in such an intimate embrace with Colleen was too much for her battered heart to bear.
She raised her eyes and lost herself in the depths of Gil’s stare. The intensity of emotion visible there made her quiver.
“You must see what Colleen was trying to do. She obviously planned for Jared to catch us together so he’d drop his courtship.” Gil raked a hand through his hair, making it stand up in unruly curls. “There’s nothing between us, I swear.”
Misery made her mute. A gust of wind tore through the gauze of her dress, and her body shivered uncontrollably.
“You’re freezing. Come on.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her toward the steps.
As much as she knew she should avoid his touch, her body gravitated toward the warmth that emanated from him. At the top of the stairs, he came to a halt and pulled her close to his chest. In a brief moment of weakness, she allowed her head to rest against him, seeking comfort from his steady heartbeat. This might be the last time she would ever be so close to him, ever smell his aftershave mixed with the smoky scent of cigars and brandy.
The front door opened with a soft squeak. Under the glow of the porch light, she reluctantly stepped back, knowing she had no right to be in his arms.
“I’ll thank you to keep your hands off my fiancée.” Henry glared at Gil and moved forward to drape his arm over Brianna’s shoulder.
Gil flinched, pain alive in the depths of his eyes. Then an expression of desolate defeat settled over his features. “I’m sorry, Brianna. For everything.” He ducked his head and dashed down the stairs.
Her every instinct cried out to go after him. She may have even moved in his direction, but Henry put out a hand to restrain her.
“Brianna. It’s time you went in. All the guests have left.” He paused. “What were you doing out here?”
She halted, her gaze still trained on the stables, where Gil had disappeared. “Just getting some air.” And hoping to see Gil one more time.
“You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.” Henry guided her through the front door and into the foyer.
Numb inside, she didn’t even move when he bent to drop a light kiss on her lips. “Good night, Brianna. I’ll see you in church tomorrow.”
“Good night.” She turned to ascend the stairs, acutely conscious of Henry watching her every step, knowing he would remain there until certain she wouldn’t try to see Gil again.
The sinking reality seeped into her sluggish brain—she’d traded one type of prison with her domineering father for another with her future husband.
Colleen perched on the edge of a leather wingchair in her father’s study, awaiting his reprimand. Based on past experience, Daddy’s temper was mostly bluster and would blow out as quickly as it came up. Especially anything concerning her.
He stood behind his desk, his face as hard as granite. “I have never been so disappointed in you, Colleen O’Leary.”
Hands clasped, she lowered her gaze to feign the proper remorse.
“Your behavior tonight was unforgivable and cannot go without consequences.”
Sudden nerves rolled in her stomach. Daddy had never punished her for any of her antics before. Still, a temporary penance would be a price worth paying to escape an unsuitable marriage. Besides, how bad could it be?
He pulled out his chair and sat down. “Your mother has always accused me of being too soft with you. Perhaps she’s right.” He blew out a breath. “You hurt a good man tonight, a man who wanted to give you the type of life you deserve. Not to mention the pain your actions caused Gilbert . . . and your sister.”
She hung her head, willing tears to form. Tears often worked on her father.
“I have come to the realization that you have no regard for the feelings of others, or how your actions affect anyone else. You do anything, hurt anyone, to get your own way. It pains me to admit it, but you’ve turned out to be a vain and selfish young woman.”
Colleen’s head flew up, her mouth falling open. Never before had her father said such words to her. He’d always considered her pranks amusing.
The tears welling in her eyes became very real.
“I’m so sorry, Daddy. I’ll make it up to Bree and Gil somehow.” She lifted her chin. “But I’m not sorry about Jared. He’s not the man you think he is. Not the man I wish to marry.”
Her father shook his head. “Be that as it may, I cannot condone such callous behavior. I need time to think of a suitable consequence for your actions. I’ll let you know my decision after church tomorrow.”
Colleen’s stomach sank to her toes as she took in her father’s rigid posture and unflinching features that showed no hint of sof
tening. She swallowed hard as she rose from the chair. “I’m sorry for disappointing you, Daddy. Good night.”
As she turned to leave, her father didn’t even look up from the book he’d opened on his desk.
After the midday meal on Sunday afternoon, Rylan knocked on the ornate door of James O’Leary’s study, trepidation dampening his palms. Although his cousin’s rather formidable husband had been nothing but polite since Rylan’s arrival at Irish Meadows, James had always maintained an aloof attitude toward him.
So why did the man want to see him now?
The door opened and James smiled, his teeth flashing white beneath his mustache. “Rylan, come in. Please have a seat.”
Rylan entered the very masculine room and took the chair Mr. O’Leary indicated by the great stone hearth, while James settled into one beside him. The fragrant scents of tobacco and burning logs filled the cozy area, reminding Rylan of the pubs back home.
James picked up a pipe from the table beside him. “So, Rylan, how do you like Long Island?”
Rylan forced himself to relax. Perhaps the man only wanted to get to know him better. “’Tis a charming spot. Much quieter than Boston.”
“That it is. However, my wife tells me you’ll soon be working at St. Rita’s orphanage in the city.” James spoke around the pipe stem now clenched between his teeth.
“Yes, sir. In fact, I’m going there for the first time tomorrow.”
“Good. Good.” James picked up a box of matches and used one to light the pipe. He took a thoughtful puff before he pinned Rylan with an intense stare.
Rylan imagined not many people argued with James O’Leary.
“I’ll get right to the point, son. I need your help with my daughter, and I think this orphanage might do the trick.”
Rylan straightened on his seat. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m not sure how much of Colleen’s little drama you witnessed last night. Suffice it to say, I’m less than pleased with her behavior of late.”
Rylan raised one eyebrow and waited for more.
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