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The next morning, I’m on my way to the O’Sullivan estate.
I’d known already, of course, that I couldn’t marry Saoirse. I’d tried to tell her that. But yesterday, seeing those pregnancy tests with their near-identical result lined up, the gravity of the situation had hit me all over again.
Ana is pregnant. And regardless of the child’s true parentage, one way or another, the baby is mine, if Ana wants to stay. I want to marry her, raise the child together, and make the family I never had. To do everything differently than my father did.
I leave her sleeping in my bed—ourbed, it’s starting to feel like, after sharing it with her the last two nights—and have Ralph drive me out to the O’Sullivan property, where I’d arranged with Saoirse over text to meet her in the back gardens again to talk.
Except when I walk through the back gate, making my way down the cobblestone path to the fountain where I’d last had a conversation with her, it’s not Saoirse’s tall, slender figure and strawberry hair that I see waiting for me.
It’s a broader figure, with shoulders set, sunlight gleaming off of hair that has gone the buttery white that redheads so often do in old age.
Graham O’Sullivan.
She’d sent her father to deal with me.
It’s hard to blame her, I suppose. But as Graham turns to face me, hands in his pockets and his lips pressed thinly together in his thick beard, I steel myself for the conversation to come. Saoirse isn’teasyto deal with, but in the present situation, I’d have rather had this conversation with her than with Graham.
For all intents and purposes, Niall is my right-hand man, the one whose input and advice I value. He’s my enforcer too, whose penchant for violence and more brutal nature I often rely on, but as far as the table is concerned, he’sonlythat. Graham is my advisor, as he was to my father. The position he holds at my right hand is the closest he can get to my seat without a son, and he has only Saoirse to marry off to maintain his position. Part of the agreement to allow me to take my father’s place with my brother gone was that Graham holds that position, an elder advisor to help me pave my way as the unexpected new head of the Kings.
If I can set Saoirse aside and marry who I please and minimize the fallout among the other members as a result, I can make other changes, too. It will set a precedent that I make my own choices as the reigning Irish King. I can replace Graham with Niall, in time.
Graham knows that. If he’d had a son, everything might have been different. But with only Saoirse to keep me from going rogue and bending the table to my will, he’s not going to let me walk away from this easily.
I’d known he wouldn’t. But Iwillwalk away.
“Graham.” I greet him tersely, and he surveys me.
“It’s come to my attention, Liam McGregor, that it’s your intention to disgrace my daughter. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’ve no intention of disgracing her, I assure you. In fact, I’ve been very careful to avoid harming Saoirse’s virtue—”
Graham turns his head, spitting angrily on the cobblestones. “I’m not talking about her damnablevirtue. If I thought that was in danger, I’d be bundling the two of ya off to the priest this minute for a wedding without any pomp or circumstance. No, it’s my concern that it’s the complete opposite. Saoirse tells me you think you can break a contract made before God and witnesses and not marry her at all.”
“I can,” I say simply. “And I will.” I step back, out of range of Graham’s fists, just in case he decides to start swinging. “I can’t marry Saoirse. I shouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place—”
“So you can marry the Russian girl you’ve been keeping under lock and key?”
I can’t stop the look of surprise that crosses my face, and Graham chuckles. “Aye, lad, my daughter told me everything—your disinterest in the marriage, her failure to keep your attention, the little Russian whore you’re keeping in your penthouse that she found. There are no secrets now, aye? So let’s have a conversation like men, and discuss what’s to be done. You’ll tell me the truth since I know a good deal of it already, at any rate.”
I’m momentarily speechless with shock. “She told you all of it?”
Graham laughs. “Is that such a surprise? My daughter is loyal. She understands duty and family. It’s just one of the qualities that will make her a fine wife for you once you’re married.”
“I won’t be marrying her.” I do my best to keep my voice even and cool. “Ana is pregnant.”
Graham’s eyes widen momentarily, but he quickly gets his expression back under control. “And are you certain it’s yours, lad? I hear she went through a good number of hands before she ended up in yours.”
My teeth clench at the insult to Ana, but I wrestle my emotions quickly under control. I can’t hesitate, can’t give Graham the slightest inclination that there’s a chance the child mightnotbe mine. As far as I’m concerned, the question of biology aside, the babyismine—and I’m not about to stand here debating DNA with Graham O’Sullivan. “Yes,” I tell him coldly. “The child is mine. I am sorry for the insult to your daughter, Graham, and for any pain I’ve caused her. But you see that I can’t marry her—nor would I think that Saoirse would want to marrymeany longer, given these circumstances.”
“My daughter will keep her word as long as you keep yours.” Graham fixes me with a glare. “Saoirse admits that her feelings towards you have changed, but she’s still willing to do her duty.”
I stare angrily at him, my frustration reaching a boiling point. “My answer is no, Graham. I am not your subordinate. I am your King. You sit atmyright hand. I will not marry a woman I neither love nor desire when I have one who I both want and love deeply. Icannot—”
“Marriages aren’t about love for men like us.” Graham shakes his head with disgust. “The idea of love is for women and novels. Even Saoirse is intelligent enough to know that a good marriage doesn’t need love, only a commitment to duty. But—” he narrows his eyes at me. “My daughter—and I—have conditions for the marriage.”
“This ought to be good.” Frustration laces my tone, but we might as well get it all out in the open. It’s as if Graham hasn’t heard a word I’ve said—or if he has, he refuses to listen, believing, of course, that he knows better. As long as I’m here, I might as well hear all he has to say, though, because once I leave, I have no intention of retreading this ground again. “Go ahead. Whatconditionsdo you have?”
“You’ll send Anastasia back to Manhattan immediately.”
