Irish Meadows (13 page)

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.

T
HE
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 softening. 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.

James turned his gaze to the flames crackling in the hearth. “I'm afraid I've spoiled my eldest daughter, Rylan, and because of that she's become rather . . . self-centered.” He drew deeply on his pipe and blew out a long stream of smoke. “It's time she learned there's more to life than pranks and parties. She'll never make a proper wife unless she learns to think about someone besides herself. Especially if she ever has children.”

Rylan couldn't stop his lips from twitching. “I find it hard to picture Colleen with a babe in arms.”

“Which is precisely why volunteering her services at this orphanage will do her a world of good.”

Rylan stiffened, frowning. “Are you sure about this, Mr. O'Leary? Frankly, I doubt she'd last a day.”

James pulled his pipe from his lips, his eyes narrowing. “She'll have no choice in the matter.”

Rylan released a long breath, his mind reeling. “Let me talk with the nuns who run the orphanage. If they've no objection, I can take Colleen with me on Wednesday.”

“Fine.” James stood and shook Rylan's hand. “I appreciate
your help with this. If anyone can help Colleen learn humility, I'm sure it's a priest and the good sisters of St. Rita's.”

Rylan left Mr. O'Leary's study more perturbed than before he went in. Somehow he'd gotten roped into being the provider of Colleen's punishment.

Images of her furious, mud-covered face from the first day they met came to mind. Heaven help him, he was going to need a buggy-load of patience and prayer to survive this one.