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When it was our turn, he turned his focus on me and reached for my hands, sighing. “Aela O’Neill, how long it’s been since last we met.”
There was no point in pulling my hands away, even though I didn’t like the old bastard. There’d never been any funny business with him, but he was quick with a ruler to the palm if you didn’t obey fast enough in Sunday School.
Bastard.
In my mind, I told him it hadn’t been long enough ‘since last we met,’ but I just shot him a pained smile. “No, quite a long time, Father.”
He cut a glance at Seamus. “An unwed mother—Declan…” He tutted. “It’s a sin, child. I hope you’ll be rectifying that soon enough. We don’t want the wee lad to be feeling his illegitimacy now, do we?”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “It’s 2020, Father. I don’t think anyone even notices—”
Doyle raised a hand, which immediately pissed me off because he expected me to obey, and with Aidan Sr. hovering about, I knew I had to. Goddammit. “The Father sees all. Knows all, Aela. He’s well aware that you acted in a slatternly manner, and when I see you next in confession, we’ll be sure to discuss how you can atone for your sins.”
My jaw clenched, especially because this was not a conversation I wanted to be having in front of my kid. Not only that, I knew the people behind me could hear. Sure, that was mostly Declan’s brothers and his family, but the family would be the ones who agreed with Doyle!
“I won’t be attending communion, Father.”
He blinked at me, and the man’s arrogance, as well as a position that was reaffirmed by Aidan Sr., not the Father himself, had him braying with laughter. “I shouldn’t laugh, child, I shouldn’t, but that was mighty amusing. I didn’t realize you were such a funny lass.”
“I’m not joking,” I murmured, and I felt Declan tense up at my side.
I didn’t shoot him a look because I didn’t need his backup to stand tall and proud.
I’d deal with this farce of a service once a week, but I wouldn’t be laying myself prostate in front of Doyle or anyone, and I had a voice in my head that would let me tell the dick that.
“You have to be joking,” Doyle sputtered. “Once a week. That’s the rule.”
“Maybe in your world, but not mine.”
Declan cleared his throat, but he surprised me by not saying a word.
I’d almost expected him to pacify Doyle, and the way he kept looking at my man told me Doyle expected it too. But he didn’t. He stood tall, shuffled every now and then from foot to foot, but otherwise, he let me have my voice.
I wasn’t sure there was anything else he could have done that would have made me so damn happy.
He wasn’t cowed, wasn’t scared of the consequences. No, he just knew I could handle it. He was there with Kevlar vests and guards when danger came, but Doyle was just a snippy old bastard who needed to meet his Maker to get a life.
“We must discuss this some other time,” Doyle rumbled, his gaze dancing between the three of us. “This is most concerning, Aela. I’m truly worried for your immortal soul.”
“I wouldn’t bother, Father, it’s been a lost cause for nearly a decade and a half.”
“It’s never too late to beg for forgiveness. To seek redemption.”
I shrugged, but before I could gripe at him, Aidan Sr. called out, “What’s the holdup?”
Doyle’s eyes flashed with concern before he nodded at us all, his features one big pucker of discombobulation, and we strolled away.
Seamus, the second Conor was dealing with Doyle, muttered, “What a jerk.”
My lips twitched. “Yeah. He hasn’t changed much. How does he sound more Irish now than he did when I was a kid?”
“A miracle,” Declan said glumly. “It’s the only thing about him thathaschanged.”
I knew why he was glum too.
“He’ll tell your father.”
“Of course he will.”
