Because You're Mine

by Colleen Coble

  “When have you ever talked Alanna out of anything?” Ena asked from behind the lens.

  “Like, never,” Ciara said, giving up on her hair.

  Alanna linked her arm with Ciara’s. “Be happy for me, Ciara. You know I have no choice, not if I want to keep the baby out of Thomas’s clutches.” Even talking about the trouble he’d caused made her ache down deep.

  “They should be shot,” Ciara declared. “Especially Liam’s dad. It’s all his fault you’re doing this.”

  “Is Jesse coming?” Fiona asked.

  Alanna released Ciara and gave the veil a final tug. “I invited him before I heard the explosion might have been his doing. Maybe he won’t come.”

  She followed Fiona and Ciara down the magnificent staircase to the library downstairs to await the first strains of the bridal march. She found Barry standing by the window. “You should be waiting in the great room,” she scolded. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

  He turned with her shoes dangling from his left hand. “I thought these might belong to you.” His smile broadened when his gaze went to her bare feet. His eyes lifted to her neck. “What’s that?”

  Alanna’s fingers caressed the fine necklace. “Fiona made it. Isn’t it lovely?”

  He swiped at the lock of blond hair falling across his forehead. “She’s very talented. You should be wearing pearls though.” He produced a velvet case from his inside jacket pocket and opened it. “These pearls belonged to my great-grandmother.”

  Though the pearls held the fine patina of age and quality, the cross seemed a talisman to her, and she touched it protectively. “This is special to me. Fiona made it for good luck.”

  His sternness evaporated with a slight smile. “And you should wear it. Do you mind wearing the pearls too?”

  She shook her head. “I’d love that.” Her fingers tightened around the cross, then she turned her back to him. “Would you fasten the pearls?”

  His warm fingers touched her neck. The next thing she knew, the lengths of the gold necklace dangled in her hands.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice full of regret. “The clasp on your cross necklace broke.”

  “I had some trouble with the clasp,” Fiona said. “I’ll try to get it fixed, but I don’t think there’s time before the wedding.”

  The cool brush of pearls lay against Alanna’s neck as Barry fastened the string. “Perfect,” he said, stepping back. “You look beautiful.” He indicated the Celtic cross in her hand. “Maybe you could tuck it somewhere since it’s so special?” He laid the shoes at her feet, then began to back out of the room.

  Alanna slipped her bare feet into the dainty heels. She hated wearing shoes, especially heels, but it was necessary. “Sweet of him to know how special the cross is.” She tucked the cross into her bra. “He’s a good man.”

  “But you don’t love him,” Ciara said.

  “No. But I could easily fall for him once I’m able to love again.”

  “What if there’s another great passion out there, someone like Liam?” Ena put in, snapping another picture. “Maybe you should be waiting for that and not settling.”

  There would never be a love like she’d had for Liam. Alanna turned to stare at her. “I thought you liked Barry.”

  Ena lowered the camera. “We just want you happy.”

  “I am! Deadly happy,” she said through clenched teeth. She wobbled on the heels as she marched to the door. “Let’s get this day over with.”

  The music started, and her mates walked the white runner to the front on the arms of the best men, Barry’s friends she’d never met. Her gut clenched. She started down the aisle and saw Jesse turn to look at her. His face was still a bit swollen from his surgeries, but he looked better than she’d imagined. What could make a man desperate enough to take his best friend’s life in addition to his own?

  She averted her gaze and stepped on the rose petals strewn along her fateful path.

  Six

  The Mercedes rolled past giant live oak trees with Spanish moss dripping from their branches. Alanna caught sight of the glimmer of water from the swamps. A glorious sunset was the backdrop to a scene worthy of a picture postcard. Though they were only twenty miles from Charleston, it was another world.

  Sluggish water moved in the river running beside the lane-way. “It looks black,” she told Barry.

  He pointed to trees half submerged in the murky water. “Cypress. The tannin in the trees stains the water, and it moves so slowly that it’s never fully purged.” He turned his head and smiled at her. “Happy?”

  She smiled back. “Deadly happy.”

  In reality, she’d never been so tired. Her face hurt from the smile she’d forced on it as she accepted the snarky congratulations from society women who’d had their eyes on Barry. His friends had likely only shown up to gossip about the grieving young widow. Everyone in Charleston knew of Ceol’s tragedy. And she’d remarried so quickly.

  She stretched and kicked off her shoes. “I’ll be glad when the rest of the band joins us. And I can’t wait to see the studio you had done up for us. The tour starts in six weeks. That’s not a lot of time for practice. And we still have to find a-a new drummer.” Her throat closed at the thought of replacing Liam. The percussionist they’d used right after Liam’s death had gone back to Ireland for another gig and couldn’t be coaxed to return. They’d interviewed dozens to replace him, and most didn’t know the difference between a bodhran and tambourine.

  He cleared his throat. “About the studio. The contractor was delayed by rain on another project.”

  “Oh, Barry, we have so little time! When will it be finished?”

  “A couple of weeks.” His smile broadened. “It will be okay. You all can practically read each other’s minds. It won’t take much practice to get you ready.”

  Alanna started to object, then closed her mouth. She studied her nails, blunt cut and unpolished. She often thought Barry saw her this way, as someone to be molded and honed. He’d find out she was more stubborn than he thought.

  “I see.” She made no attempt to hide how cross she was.

  His smile faded. “The studio will be finished soon, and Ceol will be here. Don’t worry about it. Let’s enjoy getting to know one another better.”

  She turned her thoughts away from the sticky situation of a marriage that wasn’t real. “We can’t wait two weeks to start practice. Will you have a car for me to travel to the city? Though I’ll need time to remember how to drive on the wrong side of the road.”

  “We’ll work it out,” he said.

  There were other problems to iron out as well. “What about my citizenship application? How long will it take to get it through?”

  “Not long. I brought home papers for you to sign, and I’ll take them to my friend tomorrow. He’s promised to run them right through. He got your permanent residency done the minute you returned to the States, so he knows what he’s doing.”

  Alanna allowed herself to relax. The car rolled through the line of trees shielding the estate, and she caught her breath at the first sight of Blackwater Hall when they were still one and a half kilometers away. Her awe caused her Irish brogue to return in full force.

  “It’s huge, it is,” she said.

  The stone plantation house’s foundation appeared to have been laid when the area was first settled, though Barry had told her the home was built in 1890. Such a grand place for someone like her to occupy. Her toes crept across the car’s soft carpet and found her shoes. She slipped her feet into them.

  “It’s beautiful.” The manicured lawn went on forever. The grass was a soft green, the perfect foreground to the magnificent mansion waiting to greet them. She craned her neck and peered through the windshield as the Mercedes rolled closer to the home.

  Four stories high counting the attic, the stone edifice towered over the lawn, and the mullioned windows reflected a blank stare that made her think the mansion kept centuries-o
ld secrets. Two wings sprawled out from the main house. She had no idea how many rooms the house had, but she suspected it was at least thirty.

  It was only as they reached the mansion that she noticed the way vegetation had chipped away some of the foundation. After she stepped from the car, she saw the peeling paint on the windowsills and the rotted frame around the massive double doors.

  This banjaxed place formed a sharp contrast to Barry’s pristine home at the Battery. It intrigued her. She approached the porch and heard mewing. “I’m hearing kittens?”

  He grimaced. “I hate cats. I’m allergic.”

  She ignored his comment and got onto her hands and knees to peer under the porch. Three pairs of eyes looked back. “There are three of them. Here, kitty, kitty.” She waggled coaxing fingers in their direction.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her upright. “There might be snakes under there. Poisonous ones.”

  Alanna brushed the dirt from her hands and shuddered. “You have poisonous snakes?”

  “Copperheads and coral snakes. You won’t see any coral snakes, but you might see a copperhead or two.”

  “I want to see the kittens,” she said. “Can you pull them out for me?”

  He shook his head. “I told you, I’m allergic.”

  “But they’re so cute! I love kittens. And dogs. I want a houseful of pets,” she said.

  “I don’t like an animal to touch me. You’ll have to keep that houseful outside.” His smile was indulgent, and he nodded toward the house. “I know it’s a bit unkempt right now, but we’ll soon set it right.” Barry slipped his hand under her elbow and led her up the chipped steps, nearly three meters wide, to the porch. Avoiding warped floorboards, he guided her to the front door and twisted the knob.

  She tried to peer through the sidelights. “It’s not locked?”

  “The lock is broken. No one bothers things out here anyway. They think it’s haunted.”

  She stopped on the threshold. “Haunted?”

  He shrugged. “You know how people can be superstitious. They see lights or hear a creak from a broken shutter and think it’s a ghost.”

  “You’ve not been seeing anything?”

  “Not since I was an impressionable kid.”

  She tipped her head to one side. “Is that the ocean I hear?”

  “Sure is, sugar.” He pointed to the right of the house. “The ocean is just past the sea grass. You can see a hint of blue.”

  She stared out past the waving sea grass, marveling at the lovely view. No wonder he was quite taken with this place. She could love it too. “What about hurricanes?”

  “We’re pretty sheltered here, but when we get heavy rains, we can be flooded in.” He shoved the door open the rest of the way. His smile widened as he scooped her up in his arms. “I think we’d better follow the protocol.”

  Carried in her new husband’s strong arms, Alanna entered her new home. No one but Liam had held her in so long, and the situation was just—wonky. She didn’t dare struggle to be put down. After all Barry had done for her, he deserved better.

  A cool dankness greeted them, a dark smell that made her think of dead things and vampire bats. She barely suppressed a shudder. Barry set her on her feet, and she glanced around. The wallpaper, a faded rose pattern surely dating from when the house was first built, bulged in places where the glue had let loose from the wall.

  The floors caught her attention. “Mahogany, are they?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Brazilian cherry,” he said proudly. “They’re in perfect condition.”

  They were the only thing she saw in perfect condition, but Alanna could make out the strong bones of the grand lady. She could envision the house in its old glory. She walked past a curving staircase to an entryway and passed into a large drawing room. The ornate fireplace had some plaster missing, but it must have been beautiful in its time. In this room the paper had been stripped and rose-colored walls gave the room a cheery glow. The rug in the center of the floor appeared new, as did the rolled-arm sofa and chairs.

  “It’s lovely.” The décor was not her cup of tea, but what did she know about such things? She’d add her own touches and make it a home. She was lucky to be living in such a mansion.

  Barry beamed. “I had it done last week, just for you. The fireplace will be repaired next week. Your bedroom is finished too. Would you like to see it?”

  She nodded and followed him back to the entry hall and up the stairs. The curving stairway was ten feet wide with a polished wood banister that matched the floors. “This place must have been something in its day.”

  Barry frowned. “It’s lovely now, full of history. I thought you’d love it.”

  “I do,” she said hastily. “I meant I can see the grandeur of it. The wallpaper must have been quite beautiful when it was new.” When his frown didn’t lessen, she knew she was digging herself deeper into the hole. “How lucky you are to have grown up here. I’d love to hear about your family.” He’d said little about his heritage.

  “Our family,” he corrected. “My parents will be back from Europe soon, and you’ll meet them.”

  She stopped on the stairs and gulped. “I thought your parents were dead.”

  He smiled. “Why, no, Alanna, why would you think that?”

  Not dead? But he’d brought that antique wedding dress to her and asked her to wear it. He said it was his grandmother’s, and his mother had worn it too. It would make him so happy to see her in it, he’d pleaded. But he’d never actually said she was dead. Maybe it was her fault. Her grief had blurred so many things.

  “Then why didn’t we wait for their return before the wedding?” she asked, still confused.

  He sighed. “Let’s not get into this now, sugar. It’s not important.”

  She stopped at the landing halfway up the stairs. “How can you say that? It’s very important.” The more she thought about it, the more upset she became.

  He ran his hand over his blond hair and sighed. “My mother . . . is difficult.” His pointed gaze went to her protruding belly. “She would object to my raising another man’s baby, and I didn’t trust her not to make a scene. Besides, she can be rather overpowering, and I wanted to spare you her meddling.”

  Alanna cupped her hands around her belly, which clearly showed her condition. She would have to defend what she cared about most to Barry’s mother. She’d thought the next few months would be easier with Barry to lean on, but the thought of a confrontation with his mother dried her mouth.

  She finally choked out a response past her disappointment. “I would have been glad to have had her input.” In truth, she’d been overwhelmed by the trappings of a society wedding. Today she’d wished a family of her own were present, though her mates were as close as sisters.

  “This way,” Barry said, obviously not willing to discuss his parents any longer. He took two more steps.

  Alanna started to follow him, then her gaze went to a large portrait on the landing. The brilliant hues of the picture hanging on the wall at eye level mesmerized her. The woman in the painting stared back with eyes as turquoise as Alanna’s own. The full lips parted as though she were about to speak. A circle of red curls lay piled atop her head.

  “She looks like me,” she whispered.

  His eyes wide and unblinking, Barry stared up at the painting. He took a step closer to it and placed his hand over the woman’s hand on the canvas. “Yes, she does.” His voice was hoarse. “I noticed the first time we met.”

  Alanna stepped closer, staring in fascination. Even the heart-shaped face could have been her reflection. “Who is she?”

  “An Irish woman my grandfather loved and wanted to marry. She refused him though, and he never got over her.”

  Alanna couldn’t tear her gaze from the woman’s secretive expression. “What was her name?”

  “I don’t remember.” His tone ended the conversation, and he took her elbow and guided her up the last flight of stairs.

&nbs
p; She eyed his set face. Strange he didn’t know. She let him lead her down the wide hall, papered with a green acanthus leaf pattern, to the first door on the right. The rest of the hall rambled on out of sight. How large was this place?

  He pushed open the heavy wooden door. “Here we are. I had it redone especially for you. What do you think?”

  She gasped at the opulence of the room, such a sharp contrast to what she’d seen so far. “I’m gobsmacked!”

  Luxurious silk bedding in a pale moss color drew her gaze first. She walked across polished wood floors until she stepped onto the plush area rug where the high bed rested. She reached past the mosquito netting that draped the white poster bed so she could touch the bedspread. “It’s real silk.”

  Barry stepped to the bed and draped his arm around her. “Of course. Nothing but the best for my bride. If there’s anything you need—anything at all—just tell me and I’ll get it. I want you to be comfortable.”

  Alanna’s instinctive reaction to the weight of his arm around her was to step away. She wasn’t ready to confront any expectations from Barry yet. “It was jolly good of you.” She avoided his gaze and kept her attention on the bedding.

  Pillows lay heaped on the plush bed. It was so high she’d need to jump into it, and it would be as fun as leaping into warm Atlantic waves. The furniture gleamed with newness, and she could smell the fresh paint. The walls glowed with a pale lavender paint. The gentle colors drained the tension from her shoulders, and she sank into the welcoming embrace of an overstuffed rocker by the window.

  She touched the soft fabric of the chair arms. “I quite adore it—all of it!” She gazed at the touches a woman could appreciate: candles, a mirrored dresser with pots of face cream, even a silver-plated hairbrush and comb. A light, fresh scent hung in the air, and she realized the bouquet of primroses on the dresser was real.

  “Primroses!” She crossed the floor to touch a delicate blossom. “Mixed with shamrocks.” She whirled to face him, surprised to find him right behind her. “Oh, Barry, it’s too good of you.”