“She’s upstairs, she is,” one says in a hushed voice. She’s an older, portly woman with short white hair and a ruddy complexion. “I know it. Didn’t you hear her screaming when they got her?”
“Oh, aye,” says the other, a younger woman with her light brown hair tucked into a bun. “I heard her alright, but fancied they let her go. You don’t think he did? You reckon she’s still here?”
The older woman nods sagely. “I do. I’ve been doing women’s washing, haven’t I?”
“Ooooh.” They stare in silence at the table, and my curiosity’s got the better of me.
I clear my throat.
The two women stand up straight, flustered as they see me standing in the doorway.
“Mr. Hurston,” the older woman says. She tucks something behind her back.
I nod. “Give it here, please.”
They exchange worried glances, but our staff is trained to obey all men of the Clan. With trembling hands, the older woman hands me a cell phone. I frown, confused.
“What’s this?”
“News article, sir,” she says. “Local paper. About your… your woman, sir.”
I tap the screen, and it springs to life. I blink, quickly scanning the article.
My blood runs cold.
Prostitute
Stole from Edmund Doyle
Prime Minister’s Son
At large
“Mother of God,” I mutter. They’ve found the body, and she’s a prime suspect in the case. I send myself the article, take out my phone, and call Keenan.
“Tiernan?”
I fill him in as quickly as I can.
He sighs. “Just got word from Brady.”
Fuck.
“What does he say?”
“Agrees taking her to St. Albert’s is best for now, but she’ll need someone to help change her appearance first. While you’re there, we’ll secure things here. With Brady’s help, we’ll get her a lawyer, ensure that no harm comes to her or to us.”
I curse under my breath. A part of me doesn’t like that we’re leaving the mansion. We’re safe here, with our brothers as guards, but I know the school would be far more discreet.
“I won’t send you alone, Tiernan,” Keenan says. “You’ll have company.”
“Oh?”
I’m aware of the two women in front of me still watching me with wide eyes. I think they might’ve taken a few steps back.
“Aye,” Keenan says. “Lachlan will join you, as well as Tully. Cormac and I will be up at the weekend. And don’t forget Malachy’s good when it comes to battle as well, if necessary.”
Malachy’s the primary teacher at St. Albert’s, and an honorary member of the Clan, second cousins to Keenan and his brothers.
“Thanks very much.”
I do a mental inventory of the weapons I have in my room, and what I can take with me to keep her safe.
I could handle this better when I suspected they’d come after me.
But now that I know they’re after Aisling, I’ll burn the fucking world if I have to.
I can’t explain it, I don’t know why the need to protect this women possesses me so fiercely, but I can’t deny it either.
I hand the phone back and thank them, my mind a million miles away as I walk up the stairs to the main area. It’s always been my goal to protect those that I love. How can I do this, when I don’t even know who’s a threat to her?
“Y’alright, Tiernan?” Lachlan stands in the hallway, a cup of tea in one hand and a scone in the other.
I nod.
“Look like you’ve seen a ghost, brother.”
I shake my head, but he isn’t buying it.
“Outside,” he says, gesturing toward the front lawn I can see through the large window in the entryway. I shove my hands in my pocket and nod, following him out.
A cool breeze stirs the leaves in the tree by the garden in front of us, and behind us I can hear children laughing. I look over my shoulder. Two nannies are full time caretakers of the children who live here at the mansion. It’s almost like a goddamn village. All of the McCarthy brothers have children here of varying ages, Lachlan and Fiona the only ones that haven’t had children yet.
“She wants to wait until she’s out of grad school,” Lachlan says soberly, taking a large bite of scone as we trot down the stairs toward the garden.
“Aye, don’t blame her.” She married so young, she has a life ahead of her yet. She was barely college-age when she wed Lachlan, but anyone who knows the two of them knows they were meant to be together.
“I’m happy to wait as well. There’s a lifetime ahead of her yet, and when she has a child… well, you know. She’s still so young yet.”
“Tell me about it.” I blow out a breath. It wasn’t easy for me to see my sister get married so young, and I’d have likely protested if it were literally anyone but Lachlan. I trust him with my life, so I can trust him with my sister.
“As is Aisling,” Lachlan says, shooting me a sidelong look.
I nod. “Aye.” I want to hear what he has to say about this before I say anything else myself.
We sit on the large stone bench. Lachlan’s eyes dance as he sees the little ones in the distance playing tag, the corners of his lips twitching. “Odd not to see Maeve out there in the mix, no?”
I nod. “She’s upstairs with Aisling.”
His brows shoot up. “Is she, then?”
I nod. “Aye. Fiona, Maeve, and Caitlin.”
“Came to give her a proper Clan greeting, then. I’m surprised Megan and Aileen didn’t join in.”
I snort. “They said they didn’t want to overwhelm her.”
He grins. “Well, now, what on earth would make them think those two would be too much?”
I laugh out loud. Clan cousin Megan, wife to Carson, has a personality as large as the Irish Sea, and Aileen’s no pushover herself. Maeve and Caitlin are more temperate. I think they made a wise choice.
Lachlan sobers, his dark brown eyes concerned, his heavy brows coming together.
“How is she?”
“Worlds better, brother. Was strung out something awful when she got here, but Sebastian helped ease the symptoms. She’s nowhere near fully
