I sit on the other side of the table.
“I want you to know that the sniper who arrived the day of your wedding was not sanctioned by me.”
Bollox. But I let him go on.
“We were not trying to hurt you or any of your Clan.”
“But he bore the ink of the Martins,” I counter.
Martin nods. “Quite right. And I know the laws state that if one clan is responsible for the death of a Clan Chief…”
“We go to war. Aye.”
“…unless,” he continues. “Unless a tribute’s brought forth.”
The son of a bitch. My marriage to Caitlin’s solidified my Clan and prevented any of them from attacking her. What fresh, insidious plan does he have now? Still, I want to know.
“Tell me more.”
“In exchange for peace between us, I’ll offer you a daughter of The Martin Clan. No relation to your wife.”
I feel my eyes go wide. A Martin daughter? Christ.
“The laws of our founders state such a tribute wipes all debt,” he says. “No more bloodshed, my boy. The future of Ballyhock lies with us.”
I don’t know what his plan is, what he’s trying to gain by this, but it seems a fair trade.
“How old is she?”
“Twenty.”
“A virgin?”
“Aye.”
“Show me a picture.”
He gestures for one of his men to hand over a folder. He opens it, and shows me a picture of a beautiful lass, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. Christ, but she’s young, though.
“When?”
“When she graduates uni. Next year. She’s betrothed to no one, the youngest of six.”
The son of a bitch sells them like chattel. I shudder.
“We’ll talk more of this another time. I wish to speak to my brothers before I make this promise.”
“Grant me temporary immunity?”
I grunt. “Aye.”
He leaves, but I keep the folder. My men and I will have a talk.
I stand, looking out the window that overlooks the graveyard. It’s hard to believe the weight of responsibility’s fallen on me, that now I’ve assumed this role as clan leader. I knew it was coming. I wasn’t prepared for it coming so soon.
I tuck the folder under my arm, weary of the day I had, and head upstairs to my wife.
My wife.
She’s the balm to my wounds, the salve to my soul. Caitlin McCarthy wears my ring, bears my name, and soon will bear my children.
I take the steps two at a time, a buoyancy in my step I haven’t felt since we buried my father. I want to see her. I want to hold her. I need to.
I open the door, and hear her laughing with my mother, before I see them.
“Oh, hello, there, husband!” she says, grinning at me. “We were just looking at these…”
She holds a tiny little romper thing in her hand. I feel my brows draw together.
“Whatever for?” I ask.
My mother looks tired, but there’s hope in her voice when she says, “For my grandchild.”
“You’re pregnant?” I ask Caitlin, and she only laughs.
“Not yet,” she says. “But your mother’s decided it’s time to preemptively shop.”
The elation and fear I felt quickly leaves me, and I give Caitlin a sharp look. “How about you don’t give me a heart attack, wife?”
Caitlin gives me a knowing look, and mam gathers up her things. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds.”
As is tradition, we’ve moved into the larger rooms on the third floor. Mam’s pleased that Caitlin’s here now, and though she’s mourning the loss of my father, she seeks comfort in the presence of another woman.
“That was very naughty of you,” I say, shaking my finger at her.
“What?” Caitlin asks. “Soon, I’ll bear you children. For all I know, I could be bearing them now.”
“Perhaps we can wait another day or two? There’ve been so many changes I’m not sure I’m ready for a child.”
She sighs and places her hand on my chest. “I don’t know a lot of the ways of the world, but I’m fairly certain children don’t arrive overnight. And Keenan, it would please your mother very much. It’s been hard on her, losing your father.”
It’s been hard on all of us.
“Aye,” I say to her. “I agree. But honestly, lass, you’ve made it so much better.”
“Now, Keenan,” she begins. “I know what you’re thinking when you get that look.”
“Oh? Tell me what I’m thinking,” I say, reaching for my belt and unfastening it.
“You’re either of thinking of dominating the life out of me or having your way with me.”
“Quite right.” I snap off my belt and give her a teasing swat. She yelps, squeals, and tries to run away, but I’m faster. I catch her with the tail end a second time, and the silly girl seeks refuge belly down on the bed.
I don’t want to punish her, though. No. I want more than that tonight.
“You’re a very dirty man, you know that?” she says over her shoulder.
“You weren’t saying that last night when you came on my tongue,” I remind her.