“I haven’t wanted to pry, but none of you mention your mother...” Raven open-ended the statement. She knew Helen Merrit O’Faolain was very much alive. She just didn’t understand why she wasn’t in their lives.
Bran tensed ever so slightly, and Raven thought she may have made a mistake bringing it up.
“Helen and Dad married young. I’m sure both families believed it was a good match. Gran had to have, or she would have caused a scene.”
“Bran, you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.” Raven placed her hands on his thighs and gently squeezed.
“No, it’s fine. It probably seems weird. As I said, they were young and had me right away. Her family was old money with mountains of snobbery to go with it. You know Dad, he works hard. He doesn’t expect others to do for him what he can do for himself— and Gran would have spanked his ass if he ever tried to act the wealthy playboy.”
Brushing that thought aside with a swipe of his hand, Bran finished the story.
“Dad admitted to Pat and me years ago that he believed she’d never truly loved him. She considered marrying just another box to tick off. Marrying and having heirs was expected of her. So, she did. After the requisite heir and spare, she informed Dad that they would live separate lives from then on.”
“Are you flipping kidding me? Jesus, what a horrible woman.” Raven winced, “Sorry, Bran. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Oh, you should. She was and still is. I don’t think she ever held Patrick or me. She never spoke to us, only our nanny. We were strangers. Wearestrangers. We were all thankful when she moved back home with her parents. Last I heard, she’s living her best life in Boston.
“I’ve wondered, you know, if she ever thought me... like, on my birthday or Christmas, or whatever. Honestly, I rarely think of things like that. Ithasalways amazed me that Dad could have so misjudged the woman. I mean, I get it to a certain extent. She was extraordinarily beautiful, but he wouldn’t have ever married for looks alone. He’s deeper than that. No, Helen’s acting skills had to have been top tier.”
“There was something very, very broken in her,” Raven said. “Do you think your dad misses her?”
“Oh God, no. He said he knew he’d made a mistake before the ink was dry on the marriage license. He was pleased to have an airtight prenup. Helen insisted as she believed her family would always be wealthier than her husband. She was wrong... really wrong, but the agreement stated that in case of divorce, both parties retained their individual wealth and properties.
“I believe she still considers foisting her sons’ sole custody on her ex-husband a win. My father told us the day we were all his, only his, was the best day of his life.”
Raven had to press her fingertips below her eyes to staunch the tears wanting to escape. It wasn’t from sadness. Helen was sad, but not the lives she’d help create. No, the tears commemorated the wonderful man who’d raised his sons with love.
He was a worthy gentleman, no matter his taciturn moods. “You were fortunate. You and your brother.” And then Raven couldn’t help but add, “I never want to be within forty miles of that horrible woman.”
“And you never will.” Bran kissed her lips briefly, finished his Teeling, and said, “Let’s go home, babe.”
“Yes.”
Raven stretchedwhile her eyes tried to sift through the various details of her surroundings, hoping to formulate some sort of recall. Light filtered through the heavy draperies that covered the floor-to-ceiling windows. King-sized bed. Luxurious sheets. Hmmm. Hotel. No, penthouse. Dublin. Bran.
Bursting out of the sheets like her bed was on fire, heart pounding, Raven really looked around. Flipping on the bedside lamp and quickly touching her phone screen to see the time, she grabbed a few extra pillows and bunched them up behind her back to lean on. It was just past six in the morning— and— she was alone.
Gathering more of her brain matter, Raven finally remembered the evening before. “Oh God,” she said aloud, “he’ll never let me live it down.”
She scrubbed her face with her hands, hoping it would rub away the blush. They’d returned to the hotel, and Bran said he had some calls and emails he needed to return, suggesting she shower and change if she wanted. He wouldn’t be more than thirty to forty minutes.
Raven showered. Dabbed a touch of rose oil behind her ears and at her wrists. Slipped on a silk nightgown with matching lace panties and a robe that hit right below her behind. It was slate blue and lovely. River had picked it out. She could hear Bran on the phone in the living room and decided to lie on her bed for a minute to check her emails and call her sisters.
She remembered telling the girls goodnight. And then, kill her now, she must have fallen asleep. Oh, Lord, and after Raven teased Bran about his age and needing naps.
Sighing, she drug herself from bed and padded over the thick wool rugs to the bank of windows. Drawing back the drapes, she sighed again over the view. Dublin was a sight. Better to get herself dressed and ready for the day. After all, she’d slept plenty, and Bran would want to rib her first thing.
Bran lookedup from the dining room table to see Raven walk in. She looked amazing, as always. Loose, stylish denim jeans paired with a light blue button-up. Her hair was back in a thick, low ponytail, light makeup, and clear gloss brushed her lips. Sturdy tennis shoes— good for shopping and exploring.
“If it isn’t sleeping beauty.”
Bran noticed her cheeks flushed pink. “Oh, God. So, it begins. Before you say another word, Bran O’Faolain, I eat every word I dished out to you on the plane.”
Bran barked out a laugh, loving every minute of her discomfiture. “If you’re through eating humble pie, there is a full Irish breakfast, plus at least twenty other items under the lids of all these chafing dishes.” He motioned to the long, ornate sideboard custom-built for this very room.
The entire floor was a mix of custom and antique. It was warm and comfortable, with enough clean lines for modernists to appreciate. He would definitely make this a reservation must the next time he was in Dublin.
“Oh, lovely. I prefer a smoothie and tea for breakfast, but,” lifting up one of the domes, “these eggs look delicious.”
