“So you want a meek wife, then, do you?” she asks, and I don’t miss the note of petulance in her voice. She’s feeling sorry for herself. I need to make this right again. Now that I’ve disciplined, it’s time to bring her back, to be sure her heart is in the right place. To be sure she isn’t walled up against me.
I take her chin between my fingers and lift her eyes to mine, but she looks away, her eyes shining with unshed tears. I won’t lie, it tears my heart in two. I don’t like seeing my brave, sweet lass crying. I pull her chin to bring her eyes back to mine.
“Caitlin,” I say, trying to gentle my voice but failing. Her name is harsh on my lips, and she flinches. I’ll need practice learning to deal with the likes of her. I draw in a deep breath, then let it out again. I try once more. “Caitlin, look at me.”
She finally does, and the betrayal in her eyes slays me. “You could have told me,” she whispers. “I’ve given you so much…” her voice cracks. “So much. The least you could give me is truth.”
Christ, but she’s right. She’s fucking right. I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and knead the tension away, dropping my forehead to hers.
“You’re right, sweetheart. And for that, I’m sorry.”
But she’s tight against me, her feelings walled up inside. She’s warring within, and I don’t know how to break through her hurt and anger to make things right again. I open my mouth to speak again, when the pounding of footsteps outside the door makes both of us leap to our feet. Something’s wrong. Caitlin holds my hand and we face the door, as it opens. Cormac’s on the other side, his face pale beneath his whiskers.
“Keenan,” he says, in a choked voice. “It’s Nolan.”Chapter TwentyCaitlinMy heartbeat hammers at the sound of Cormac’s voice.
It’s Nolan.
Even as my heart still aches with the sting of betrayal, and my body still aches from the pain of the stern punishment he inflicted, I squeeze Keenan’s hand. It feels as if we’re frozen in time, waiting for Cormac to finish what he’s come to tell us.
“What is it, brother?” Keenan asks, his bright green eyes clouded with worry.
“He was found a short while ago.”
“Where?”
“At the school. Bless him, Lachlan found him and called me. I called Sebastian.”
Though I can tell Keenan is angry, as he always is whenever anyone mentions Nolan and his drinking, there’s a brightness in his eyes and tightness in his voice that tells me he’s concerned.
I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care.
I’ve made a mistake falling for this family. I can’t let myself get pulled any further in.
But when Cormac continues, I can’t help myself.
“The nurse at the school said it was acute intoxication. Alcohol poisoning. Confusion, vomiting. He had a fucking seizure.”
“Christ.”
“Can’t rouse him, Keenan. Skin’s all blue and pale, and he’s shaking.”
They’re leaving the room, and Keenan’s got his phone out. “You called Sebastian?”
“Sebastian’s on his way. But fuck it, Keenan, we’ve got to admit him. ’Tis out of Sebastian’s control, this is.”
I cover my mouth with my hand.
“Have you told dad?” Keenan asks. His eyes flash at Cormac, but I know by now that what looks like fury is really fear.
“Aye,” Cormac says.
“But not mam?”
“Hell no.”
Keenan’s lips thin. “Fucking keep it that way.”
He turns to me. “You’ll go to our room,” he says. “You’re not to come out again without my permission.” He signals for a guard. I want to slap his face all over again, I’m that angry with him.
“So I’m your prisoner again, am I?” I say, but when he turns to me, the look on his face makes me close my mouth.
Leaning down toward me, he drops his voice to a whisper and cups my sore, throbbing backside. “Aye,” he says. “The Martins could be at large, and for all we know they could’ve had something to do with this. You’re not safe until we’re wed, and I can’t wed you ’til I see to my brother’s wellbeing. I know you’re angry. I know we haven’t resolved this. But for Christ’s sake, Caitlin, use common sense.”
I close my eyes, mortified that he’s dressing me down and squeezing my backside in front of Cormac. This is what it means to be wed to a man like him, and his highhanded ways will only intensify as he assumes the throne as Chief.
“You will go to our room,” he repeats.
Cormac clears his throat. We both look at him.
“Mam’ll want to speak with her, Keenan,” he says sheepishly, as if he knows he’s intruding on a private moment, and it embarrasses him to do so.
Keenan curses. “Aye.”
“Perhaps let the lass go only with mam? Keep her under the watch of the guard?”