Page 30

CHAPTER 30

A s Patrick approached Ronan, he noted the younger man’s expression remained neutral, as if he were wary of what to expect from him. He couldn’t say he blamed the man for his guarded behavior. Patrick had been a proper horse’s arse to him in the past.

“I’d like to speak to you, if you’ve a mind, son. Will you walk with me?”

Ronan’s silver gaze darted to where Dubheasa was laughing with Eoin and Brenna over something Fionola was saying.

“I’ll not take offense if you tell me no. You owe me nothing.”

“I’m not telling you no, but I am intent on signaling Dove should my body turn up in a ditch, the next village over.”

His dry humor was something Patrick appreciated.

“Did you work out a code between you prior to arriving tonight?”

A quicksilver grin came and went, and Ronan’s eyes showed barely suppressed laughter. “Sure, and if I tell you we didn’t, you may get away with murder. If I tell you we did, I look weak, and that’s no way for a Guardian such as myself to appear.”

“I’m not one to tell another they’re weak. If it weren’t for you, I’d be lying bloody in that cell still.”

A pained expression crossed Ronan’s face. “I’m after apologiz?—”

“No, son. You’ve no need.” Expelling a breath, Patrick led the way outside the parlor doors to the edge of the terrace, with the assumption the other man would follow. His gaze landed on the spot where Fionola gave him a second chance after his mind was healed, and he took courage that if she could forgive him his sins against her, then maybe Ronan could, to a lesser degree. “I’m the one who owes you the apology, boyo.”

He faced his daughter’s mate and offered up a conciliatory smile. “You’ve been good to my family, saving them time and again, earning yourself the hatred of your family.”

“Sure, but most of them hated me prior to my defection, so it wasn’t so great a loss. The only one who never wavered was Ruairí.”

“And Reggie.”

Ronan’s brows shot up. “You know Reg?”

“Aye. I know that day was a bad one for you, but you may recall, his was the cell diagonal from mine. There was many a time when we talked art, philosophy, and books. He was as good a companion as I could hope for, considering the situation.”

“I’m surprised my father allowed conversation at all.”

Patrick nodded. “He’d hoped to use Reggie as a weapon one day. He’d said as much to both of us, but your cousin refused to give him the satisfaction.” He smiled in memory of Reggie’s wit, and how, more often than not, he’d taunted Loman from behind the safety of his bars. “He knew your da couldn’t retaliate without walking into the cell, and Loman feared going inside. Maybe he expected Reggie to trap him; your cousin is sure clever enough.”

“He is.” Ronan leaned back against the rail and crossed his long legs at the ankles. “Why didn’t you capture him with the others?”

“He’s a slippery one. And clever. The part of me in control at that time likely feared he’d see through the charade when I couldn’t myself.”

“Aye. There’s a semblance of truth to that, I suppose.” Ronan frowned. “But I’ve not heard from him in some time, and I’m worried for him.”

“You shouldn’t be. The man is smarter than all of us combined.” Patrick smiled as he lifted his drink in a toast to the absent Reggie, but sobered as he recalled what happened the day Dubheasa confronted Loman. “If I know your cousin, he hasn’t forgiven himself for his part in my daughter’s death. How would he know she returned from the Otherworld?”

“Both Eoin and I sent him messages in the days following her return. He knows.” Running a hand through his shaggy white-blond hair, Ronan grimaced. “He’ll come around or he won’t, but he’s been informed none of us hold ill will for him.”

“It’s happy I am to hear it.” Patrick settled back against the stone railing beside Ronan, and it allowed him to see his family as a whole as they milled about, laughing, eating, and making merry. ’Twas the one and only time Bridget agreed to shut down the pub for the night. “Will you forgive me for being an old fool?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Paddy. Your mind was not your own.” Ronan straightened. “Why would I hold it against you? And to tell ya true, I wasn’t a good man before Dove. Your family taught me what it was to be a decent human being. I owe them for their willingness to set aside their animosity, to forget that ridiculous feud, and for caring about me when I had no self love at all.”

“Aye, but you’ve developed into a person anyone would be proud to call son, brother, cousin, husband… friend .” Patrick held out a hand. “Can we be friends, Ronan O’Connor? Can you try to place your trust in me as I’m ready to do with you? Can we end this war for good this time?”

A smile curled Ronan’s generous mouth, and the man was quick to accept the peace offering. “I don’t make war on women, children, or incapacitated old men. You were lucky I knew about your injury, or this might’ve had a different outcome.”

“You knew…What are ya sayin’, boy?”

A twinkle sparked in the silvery depths of his eyes. “I’m sayin’ a Guardian sees the truth if he looks hard enough and if he has the help of an Oracle and a Goddess to tell him what to expect.”

“Ya fecker! You couldn’t have told me ?” Patrick demanded, aghast that others had seen the outcome long before it happened.

“You wouldn’t have met Fi if I had.” After sipping his scotch, Ronan sighed. “I’ve come to understand knowing and telling can have two vastly different outcomes. The Aether and the wee Beastie have taught me that. But Anu had her reasons for allowing you to do what you did, and she told me to let you have your head in this race.”

“Her offer?”

“She’d no intention of punishing me in your place. She intended to see what type of man you were. If you’d defend or sacrifice me to her whims.”

Patrick shook his head in wonder, thanking his lucky stars he’d said the right thing at the right time. “Why did she offer me the position of consort, knowing I love Fi?”

“Another test. And a bet, to boot.”

“A feckin’ bet? The hell you say! Who was she bettin’ with?”

Ronan laughed. “Me. I said you wouldn’t be swayed, and she said you’d feel the need to make things right.”

“Ach! You lost to her, then.”

“No. I won. You weren’t swayed from Fi despite your sense of justice.”

An emerald light flared in the shadowed corner of the terrace farthest away from the doors, capturing their attention.

The Goddess had joined the party.

Anu approached with a rolling walk meant to make a man’s mouth water, but neither Patrick nor Ronan took note. They bowed their heads, prepared to take a knee when she stopped them.

“No need to be formal among friends,” she said with an indulgent smile. “I’ve come to pay the wager.” A sly expression curled her lips and caused the dimple on the left side of her face to flash. “Unless you’d like to double down, Ronan O'Connor?”

“Nah. The affection an O’Malley has for their mate is an unwavering thing, and a sure bet. I’ll not be so fortunate against you a second time, my Queen,” he replied, with all the charm of the Devil himself. The flirty smile he gave her caused pink to tint the Goddess’s cheeks.

“Sure, and I feel the need to warn ya, if Dubheasa catches you smiling at another that way, she’d cut off your bollocks,” Patrick said, shooting a glance at her and meeting her narrow-eyed gaze. “Ah, you’re too late! And just when I was beginning to develop affection for you. It was nice knowing ya, boyo.”

The others laughed, and a small smile, visible across the distance, curled his daughter’s mouth.

“What did you win?” Patrick asked Ronan.

“Your undying happiness.”

The Guardian’s and the Goddess’s matching expressions were a combination of indulgent and affectionate, with compassion thrown in for good measure.

“I don’t understand. Why?” he asked Ronan.

“My ween loves ya, Paddy. So does Dove. My life is spent in service to them, with my ultimate goal to provide them everything their hearts desire.” Ronan gripped his shoulder and gave him a little shake. “You’re part of that. It’ll make Dove content to know you’re with someone who cares for ya.”

“I misjudged you something fierce, didn’t I?”

“You were worried for your family. That’s understandable and forgivable.”

Overwhelmed with the need to show him his gratitude but unable to voice it, Patrick embraced him. “Thank you, son.”

“You’re welcome, Da. I can call you that now, yeah?”

“Aye. I’d be proud to be your da, Ronan, me boy.”

As Fi observed Patrick bond with Ronan, she smiled. Her understanding was the two of them had been at odds since the former discovered the latter was Dubheasa’s chosen mate. And of course, with Patrick despising Loman as he had, it was natural the transference of that hatred would be visited upon the son.

“I owe you an apology, Fi.”

She spun to find Bridget, remorseful and apologetic. “You don’t.”

“Aye, I do. I was cruel to you when you tried to care for Da.”

Fi hugged her and was somewhat surprised when the other woman returned her embrace. Bridget was proud and exuded an air of aloofness despite her need to care for everyone. She didn’t have the warm, welcoming vibe of Carrick’s wife, Roisin.

“You were doing the best you could in a shite situation, Bridget. I’ll not fault you for it.” Fi smiled. “You’re about taking care of everyone but yourself, and your protective nature isn’t a bad thing, to be sure.”

“I’m happy Da found you and that you’re willing to forgive him for your island adventure.”

Laughing, Fi glanced over her shoulder to find Patrick watching them. “That’s a perfect way to put it. ‘Island adventure.’ And the truth is, spending time there with your Da wasn’t a hardship. We had the best food, the softest mattress, and quiet time to learn about each other. I understand why his wounded self desired to return to the familiar.”

“It wasn’t a picnic for him in Loman’s prison,” Dubheasa said, joining their conversation. “Quite the opposite.”

“Patrick lived in the shadows for his entire life. One way or the other.” Fi shook her head, struggling to explain. “There is comfort in clinging to your old way of life, all the same. He told me it was why his mind revisited the past and sought to rebuild it. But I think his kind nature didn’t want the others to suffer, despite putting them back in the cells, and he created a comfortable place for them to reside.”

“It makes sense he’d do that. Da has always tried to make things better for others.” Tears filled Bridget’s eyes, and she sniffed, rapidly blinking them away. “He’s a good man, Fi. I’m happy you saw that in him.”

“Aye, me, too. He’s protective while honoring my independence and acknowledging that I know my own mind. That’s the best quality in a man, don’t ya think?”

“I do.” Bridget grinned as Ruairí wrapped his arms around her from behind. “I’ve got one of those grand fellas myself.”

“I’ve been upgraded to grand from eejit. I’ll take it and be happier for it,” he quipped before burrowing his face against her neck and blowing raspberries against her throat.

With a palm shove to his head, Bridget laughed. “You play the grand fool, Ruairí O’Connor.”

“Ouch, and didn’t that pierce me heart?” He turned her to face him and dipped her low, staring down at her grinning visage. “Ah, mo ghrá . I’ll play the grand fool for you for as long as you’ll have me. This lifetime and beyond. You’re my greatest love, you are.”

And the woman Fi had believed to be standoffish melted into a puddle of mush right there, for all the world to see. Love was reflected back at her mate, and their twin looks of adoration could warm even the frostiest of hearts.

Eoin, bless him, whispered something to make Brenna giggle, which caused Fi to join in. Were they all a bunch of romantics? It was easy to be surrounded by so much love.

Cian draped an arm over Fi’s shoulders and hugged her to him. “Welcome to the family, love. But please, don’t let Da sing in me pub again, yeah?”

Piper’s amber eyes were twinkling as she said, “Cian’s ego can’t take being upstaged.”

“Sure, and you’re right about that, Piper, me love. But only because it fires your passion for me when I sing to ya.” He abandoned Fi to sweep Piper into his arms and waltz around the floor as he belted out a jaunty tune.

“I love this family,” Fi said with a girly sigh she never believed was possible for her.

“Sure, and that’s a grand thing, love,” Patrick said from behind her. “We’ve all grown fond of you, as well.” His arm encircled her waist, and he dipped his head, placing his mouth next to the shell of her ear. “But I can put these young ’uns to shame, if you’ve a mind to see.”

“I would.”

With a wave of his hand, the terrace transformed. Low-hung lights dangled from black wires, crisscrossed over the entire space and were dimmed to provide an intimate glow. The sound of a lively fiddle filled the night, lending energy to the air. Potted evergreen trees with beds of flowers dotted the tiles along the railing, and an eight-foot table strained under the weight of a banquet made for royalty. In the center was a chocolate fountain, and surrounding it were platters of fruit in every variety imaginable.

Patrick led Fi to the table and picked up a strawberry. After dipping it into the chocolate, he held it up to her smiling lips. Instead of feeding her when she opened for him, he coated her lower lip and leaned in to taste it, gently sucking the fleshy bit into his mouth. He drew back after a leisurely exploration, and his wicked grin told her he could indeed put the younger generation to shame.

“A dance or two before a ride?” he asked.

“You prefer to build my passion to a fever pitch?” she teased, allowing him to lead her to what served as a dance floor.

“Always.”