Page 25 of His to Keep (Reluctant Vows #6)

G io

Watching Eilidh trying on her twentieth different outfit, I wish I could take away some of her nervousness.

She’s putting up a front, pretending that everything is fine, but the way she discards one perfectly suitable dress after another tells me she’s anxious.

She’s tried on formal dresses and fun, casual clothes, searching for something to portray just the right image.

The trouble is I don’t think she knows what persona she wants to project.

“He’s going to be here in thirty minutes,” Eilidh grumbles, “and I have nothing to wear.”

“You wiped out half the boutiques in Florence yesterday,” I tell her drily. “You have something to wear.”

“It’s so easy for you men. You just have to stick on a pair of black pants, a black shirt, and you’re ready to go.”

“Ah, but we have to worry about what weapons to carry. I mean, does this outfit call for a Glock or Sig Sauer?”

Eilidh laughs. “You’re a dickhead.” Her face falls. “But seriously, what am I supposed to wear?”

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip.

I wish I could make this less difficult for her.

Alexander is a connection to a past she hasn’t really come to terms with yet and she’s afraid speaking to him will stir up unpleasant memories.

More than that, I think she fears letting herself be vulnerable, especially in front of me.

Though she knows I would never take advantage of her moments of weakness, she doesn’t want me to see her as someone who needs to be coddled.

I suspect she can tell I still struggle with the aftermath of being shot and she doesn’t want to add to the burden I carry.

The thing is she could never impose on me.

I intend to make supporting her my life’s work.

“Try the blue one with the flowers again,” I suggest.

She rummages through the pile of discarded clothing on the bed and finds the dress. She holds it up and from the way her nose wrinkles I can tell she’s going to reject it.

“Nope,” she says decisively. “The daisies are too childish.”

“You liked it yesterday.”

“I still like it today, but not for this.” She tosses the dress down and picks up another white one with roses on it. I hadn’t noticed before now, but she really loves those flowery patterns. “Do you think Sandy’s as jittery as I am?”

I don’t point out that’s the first time she’s addressed her brother that way, but I do wonder what it means in terms of how she’s thinking about him.

“Of course he is,” I assure her. “He’s desperate to see you.”

When I called her brother last night to tell him Eilidh wanted to meet, he wanted to come straight over. I had to persuade him to hold off until this afternoon to give my wife time to get her head around the idea.

“Hmm,” Eilidh murmurs skeptically.

“What does that hmm mean?”

She doesn’t get the chance to answer. A soft knock at the door precedes Rosalia entering the room.

“Are you not dressed yet?” she scolds as she spots Eilidh in only her bra and panties. “ Signore Cameron is downstairs. I’ve shown him to the sitting room and given him refreshments.”

Eilidh scowls. “He’s early.”

“He’s obviously keen to see you, kitten. Now, why don’t you let Rosalia help you get ready, and I’ll go and keep Alexander occupied until you come down?”

“Okay.”

Hoping Rosalia is more up to the task of helping Eilidh pick an outfit than I was, I leave the women to discuss the pros and cons of dresses versus pants and head downstairs.

I find Alexander in the sitting room. He’s perched on the edge of one of the sofas, looking ill at ease.

He’s wearing a navy suit with a white shirt and gray tie, despite how hot it is.

There’s a gift bag by his feet. When I enter the room, he sets down his coffee cup next to a plate of amaretti cookies and rises to greet me.

“Has she changed her mind?”

“No, she’s just getting dressed.” I offer him my hand and we shake. “It’s an arduous process, believe me.”

Alexander smiles. “It’s stupid, but I changed my shirt three times.”

Grabbing one of the cookies from the plate, I sit on the armchair opposite Alexander and motion for him to retake his seat. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He sits and leans back against the cushions, but he looks anything but relaxed. I don’t imagine he’s a man who allows himself to show weakness, but right now his nerves are fully on display.

“I hear you had a run-in with Barevsky’s son,” he says.

I don’t bother to ask how he heard about it. I’m getting used to the idea that everything in my life is public knowledge.

“We did, but it went okay. Eilidh took charge, kept things civilized.”

Alexander laughs. “That doesn’t sound like her. When she was a kid, she was always the instigator, provoking fights between me and Jamie and egging us on until one of us drew blood.”

I grin, totally able to see my wife doing that. She likes to poke at people, to get a reaction.

“Barevsky is going to take care of his father for us.”

“That’s welcome news, but Barevsky isn’t my main concern.”

“Have you made a move against Henry yet?”

Alexander shakes his head. “No, but rest assured by the end of the week the Drummond organization as we know it will be wiped out.”

We stop talking as Eilidh comes into the room. She’s wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and white tennis shoes. I guess she opted for a casual look.

Alexander gets up and opens his arms wide.

She hesitates, before walking to him for an awkward hug.

When she pulls back, her face is flushed like she’s embarrassed.

She takes a seat on the other armchair on this side of the coffee table and Alexander sits back down.

He reaches into the bag next to him and takes out a cuddly toy.

It takes me a moment to realize it’s a small orange cat.

“Pipsy!” With a broad smile on her face, Eilidh leans across the table to take the toy from him. “Where did you get her?”

“Your bedroom at home. The Dalglieshes looked after everything. They kept the business going, made sure the house was cared for. I owe them a debt I can never repay.”

“ We owe them a debt,” Eilidh corrects him. “Their thoughtfulness extends to me.”

Alexander nods. “You’re right.”

The room falls silent, and I get the impression everyone is struggling for a safe topic of conversation.

“Niamh isn’t with you.” The facile observation is the best I can come up with.

“No. Something came up and she had to fly home.”

Eilidh clears her throat. “Uh, Gio mentioned Niamh might have had a thing with Jamie. Were they together?”

Alexander’s eyes widen as if he’s surprised by his sister’s question. “If things had gone differently, they’d have married.”

“Things? You mean if Jason Henry hadn’t cut our brother’s throat?”

Both Alexander and I wince at the vitriol in her voice. She blows out a breath and clenches her fists as if calming herself.

“Did Dad know about Jamie and Niamh?”

“I think so.”

Eilidh tilts her head to one side as she studies her brother’s face. “She helped you when you were hurt?”

“She got me the best medical care available and came to visit whenever she could. She put up with my shit moods when I couldn’t remember who I was or what my life had been like.”

“You couldn’t remember anything? Your family? Me?”

Alexander lowers his gaze, unable to meet her accusing glare. “There were flashes of memory. When it all came flooding back, Niamh helped me plan how to get back everything Dad built. Then when she learned you were still alive…”

Eilidh cuts him off before he can travel any farther down that road. She clearly doesn’t want to think about how she too was thought to be dead. “It was good of her to do all that.”

“Niamh blames herself for what happened. She thinks if Jamie had been the one betrothed to Cara our family would still be alive.”

Eilidh screws her nose up. “How does she figure that?”

“She believes Drummond took our family out because he was insulted at being offered the second son.”

Eilidh shakes her head. “No, the betrothal was a trap. Jason didn’t care who the groom was going to be. He was looking to eliminate competition, that’s all.”

“I’ve told her that, but she doesn’t believe me.” Alexander picks up his coffee cup. “Perhaps you could convince her. She’s a good woman and she shouldn’t be carrying that guilt.”

Eilidh purses her lips. “Speaking of good women, what are you up to with Cara Drummond?”

Alexander scowls, more because of his sister’s confrontational tone than the question, I suspect. “That’s not your business, Eilidh.”

She gives an irritated snort. “Did you know Gio was going to pluck me out of Jason’s clutches and marry me before it happened?”

“Yes, I approved the plan.”

She stares at her brother until he accepts she has a point. He interfered in her life, so she has some right to meddle with his.

“I’m not hurting her if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m honoring the agreement our fathers made.”

Eilidh’s eyes widen. “You’re going to marry her?”

Alexander looks away.

“You already did.” Eilidh’s tone is accusing. “So where is she? Why did your new bride not accompany you? Tuscany’s a great place for a honeymoon.”

“She’s back home.” Alexander holds a hand up to forestall Eilidh’s inevitable next question. “That’s all you need to know.”

A sullen glare clouds Eilidh’s pretty features. I decide it’s time for me to jump into the conversation.

“So, what are you going to do about Henry and his lieutenants?”

Alexander smiles grimly. “I’m going to capture, torture, and kill each one of them.”

“Not Tommy McCain,” Eilidh says sharply.

“Why?” Alexander asks.

I want the answer to this question too. I know someone in the Henry household took Eilidh’s virginity. Was it him? Is she trying to protect him? Her response sets my mind at ease.

“Because he’s the one I hate the most. Gio promised me vengeance and I want him to be the one to tear McCain apart.”

There is no way to argue against the vehemence in her voice. If Alexander refuses to give her this, I have no doubt she’ll rain down hell on him.

“Okay,” he concedes. “McCain is yours.”

Eilidh smiles tightly. She gets to her feet. “You two can sort out the details.” As she walks to the door, taking her little orange cat with her, something occurs to her, and she turns around. “One last thing, Sandy. Did you bring them home?”

She’s talking about her family, I realize.

“Joe and Tristan had them interred in the chapel vault.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a headache coming on so I’m going to lie down.”

As she leaves the room, Alexander’s shoulders slump forward as if he can finally relax. I guess that first encounter after all these years was always going to be tense.

“It’ll get better with time,” I assure him.

“I know.” He runs his fingers through his hair, the same light brown shade as Eilidh’s. “She called me Sandy.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I suppose it is, but she never called me that when she was a kid. Why start now?”

I shrug. The inner workings of Eilidh’s mind are still a mystery to me. Perhaps one day I’ll have her all figured out, but I doubt it. To be honest, I prefer it that way.