I grumble under my breath.
“How's Tiernan?” she asks quietly.
“He's grand.”
“So… are there any other women, or is this just a male-dominated society?” She gives me a sidelong glance.
I snicker. “Seamus and Cavin's sisters, Kyla and Bronwyn, are part of our contingent. And no, they're not side characters. They're the main action. Bronwyn is the youngest. She's sweet and fairly innocent. And Kyla is a force to be reckoned with.”
She nods, taking it all in. “I—okay, I can see that.”
“They're fierce but loyal. You'll see. You'll like them,”I say.
“Okay.”
The McCarthy estate looms ahead, all stone and iron gates that have stood for three generations. It's grand and majestic and intimidating. All I can think about is how secure it is. Behind those walls, Crowning and his men cannot touch her. It's a veritable fortress.
Her hand tightens in mine as I pull through the entrance.
“It's big,” she whispers.
I laugh. “Aye, the family bought it decades ago. Wanted something that felt like home.” I glance at her. “It's safe here. No one gets past these gates. If I didn’t think Seamus might murder me, I’d have brought you here much sooner.”
“You sure he still won’t murder you?”
“Nope.”
She nods, but I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way she's worrying her bottom lip. Part of me wants to turn this car around and take her back to the cabin, where it's just us. But Crowning's made his move, and there's no running from this now.
I park near the main house and come around to open her door. She takes my hand, steps out, and I pull her close for just a moment. My arm wraps around her back, her front pressed into mine. I press a kiss to her forehead.
“Stay with me,” I whisper against her hair. “No matter what happens in there, I want you to trust me, alright? Can you trust me, lass? I love you, Bianca.”
“I will,” she says.
The front door opens before we reach it, and my cousin Declan's grinning face appears. “Well, fuck me, he's actually alive.” He looks as if he's ready for the runway, as usual. “About to send out a fucking search party, lad. Seamus has been losing his goddamn mind.”
“Declan,” I warn.
But he's already looking past me at Bianca, and his grin softens into something genuine. “Ah, I see the reason our boy's gone completely off the grid.” He extends his hand. “Declan McCarthy. I'm the charming one in this fucking lot.”
Her lips twitch despite her nerves. “Bianca White.”
“White.” Declan's eyebrows rise, but he keeps his expression neutral. “Welcome, love. Seamus is in the study with the others. He's in rare form, brother.”
“Grand,” I mutter.
Bianca pales, but I give her hand a little squeeze. “He's more bark than bite for people he loves. You don't want to be his enemy, but you're not.”
We follow him through the familiar halls, past the portraits of family and the heavy furniture that seemed so much bigger when I was a child. Bianca's eyes are wide, taking everything in, cataloging the details as she does. That historian brain of hers never stops.
The study doors are open, and voices come from within. People are in the kitchen and the dining hall.
Everyone looks when I walk in with Bianca. The silence is deafening.
But our focus zones in on Seamus, standing behind his desk, his arms crossed, looking every inch the head of his family. Cavin's by the window, silent and watchful, his hands pushed into his pockets. He gives me a look one might give an errant student facing a headmaster for punishment.
Lorcan is sprawled in one of the leather chairs, picking at his cuticles, but he sits up quickly when he sees the two of us coming in. “Right, then,” he mutters under his breath.
