He let me tease him to the breaking point before he turned me onto his side and cuddled me from behind. Spooning sex had become our go-to ever since my baby bump had become more of a baby mountain. Plus, neither one of us wanted to risk deep penetration given my pregnancy complications thus far.
When he finally entered me as my husband, it was tender and gentle and loving. Like a dream. He murmured my name against my ear as his arm circled me so his fingers could play my quivering body like one of his instruments. He didn’t need to encourage me to cry out. I would have done it anyway.
I came so hard that it sparked another set of contractions. Auggie took immediate note of my hardening tummy. “Are we sure being on an island all alone is the best idea?” I teased.
He chuckled. “Audra is on call, ready to fly over here in a minute’s notice. But we’ll be fine,” he assured. “Dr. Hamish said you’re weeks away, still.”
We waited out the contractions. By then, the October chill was undeniable, curbing our enthusiasm for our outdoor wedding bed. It bummed me out, considering how much thought and effort he had put into it to make it perfect and romantic. But it was hardly romantic anymore with my teeth chattering.
“I’m sorry,” I said as we untangled to move our celebration indoors.
He growled as he forced me to look at him. “What did I say about apologizing?” He kissed me hard. “We have two weeks for a honeymoon, and the rest of our lives beyond that. Besides,” he said as he wrapped his arm around me to protect me from the chill. “I have a better place.”
Altogether, Castlewick was five stories, although only the towers on either side reached the higher floors. He gave me the tour while we were both buck naked. History had never been so much fun. Or so sexy.
Though original construction had been completed on Castlegate in the early nineteenth century, it had been renovated over the years to include modern conveniences, such as its 21st Century kitchen. Upstairs, one of the bathrooms had been updated to include his and hers side-by-side bathtubs.
He ran baths for both of us to ward off the chill, flooding the room with candlelight to make it more romantic.
As we sat in our respective tubs, we linked our hands and spoke softly about the day and about our future.
Afterwards, he toweled us off and led us up the spiral stone staircase, or vice, as he led us to a secret chamber on the highest floor of the north tower. In it was a large round bed. He pulled me down beside him, cuddling us under the warm blanket. “This was my favorite place as a kid,” he recalled. “I felt safe here. Hidden. Protected. It gave me a place where I could dream about the future.”
“What did you dream about?”
“Being happy,” he said simply. And it touched my heart. He gathered me close. “You’re my dream come true, Pea. Don’t ever doubt it.”
With that, he kissed me again. I folded him into my arms and loved him the best that I could. When he released himself inside of me at last, claiming me rightly as a Quinn bride, I honestly believed we had found our happily ever after. I was as determined as he was to make our honeymoon picture perfect.
I got up before him the following morning. I headed down to the kitchen to prepare a breakfast for my new husband, since there was no staff there to meet that need.
I couldn’t help giggle as I tinkered around the kitchen, putting together a small but elegant spread for my man. Ordinarily I would have done that while listening to music on my cell phone, but I had lost sight of it somewhere between the carriage ride to Shimmering Falls and the trip across the sea to Mercy Island.
Auggie solved the mystery as I headed back upstairs to serve his breakfast in bed. “This honeymoon is just about us,” he said, taking one of my hands in his. “The rest of our lives will belong to Aldayne. For these two weeks, I wanted it to be just the two of us.”
It sounded like heaven to me. We ate slowly, made love indulgently, and ran around naked like heathens, even out on the grounds in the light of day. We dressed begrudgingly to survey the island, all the way to Hollis Lighthouse on the island’s rugged north shore, which had been built in the 1200s and still worked to this day. On the way down the four-mile trek to Hollis, we passed a community of cobblestone dwellings that all looked like old dollhouses. “For the staff,” he explained. “They keep Mercy running.”
He then told me about the history of the island and how it had been used as asylum in its long history, particularly during WWII.
“It’s private property now, though,” he said. “We don’t even open it to the public like the other castles. It’s a place where we can just be, just like ol Whitley wanted.”
He told me the ghost stories about the kindly old King, who had been spotted in the lighthouse according to the staff dedicated to its upkeep and operation.
“Of course, the real ghost stories are at Greystone. According to legend, there are secret rooms housing monsters. There’s even a dungeon,” he added. I shuddered, thinking of the weeks I had lived there.
“Seemed pretty quiet to me,” I said.
“Clearly they like you,” he grinned. “Perhaps you should be the one to orchestrate the Halloween Ball.”
“Grandmother said something about that,” I confessed with a nod, thinking about the next big to-do I was expected to plan following the wedding and preceding the birth of our son. “We’re not really going to have two weeks off, are we?”
He laughed. “That’s what I love most about you, my wife. You are a quick study.”
We spent a good chunk of time that afternoon planning the Royal Masquerade Ball, held annually at Greystone Castle. Thanks to the wedding, I had a crash course in what was expected of such an event. That night we called Maeve to give her some ideas of what we were planning.
Auggie then prepared dinner for me. We ate in the courtyard, finishing our meal with pieces of red velvet cake that we fed to each other, before we walked down the steps to the private gazebo where we made love long into the night.
We delighted in all the mundane tasks like washing dishes or sweeping the floor. We tended the sculpted garden according to its normal schedule. In between, my education as a Quinn Royal continued as he would give me history lessons and geography lessons while we discovered Mercy Island together.
We even properly christened the lighthouse. King Whitley didn’t seem to mind.
The only time a cell phone was present was when Auggie was snapping pictures of us, or, more accurately me. Castlegate was a magical backdrop, with low-lying clouds and mists from the Atlantic and the vivid greenery of the grounds. The tall trees gave us an even stronger sense of privacy, as did the tall rampart that faced our Irish neighbors to the east.
I loved the feeling of the blades of grass underneath my bare feet as I explored the grounds. I wore billowing dresses that made me feel womanly and powerful. My husband dressed mostly in trousers only. I could barely keep my hands off him. Thankfully, there was no real reason to deny myself.
We haunted every room in Castlewick by the end of our first week.
The staff returned for the weekend, to do most of the upkeep of the grounds. Auggie surprised me with a trip on the yacht, so our cocoon could be protected a little longer.
Our last week at Castlewick, we played games and read books and shared stories. As real life began reaching towards us by the end of that week, we had no choice but to reach back.
After finding old family photo albums, I finally asked Auggie about Riona Byrne, who appeared like a sad apparition in every photo where young Auggie and Cillian hammed it up for the camera.
“It’s not easy to be a female Byrne,” Auggie answered at last. “Especially when she was the first born.” I waited expectantly. He had no choice but to continue. “Allan’s first wife was Olivia Hollis.”
“Like the lighthouse?”
He nodded. “Old money. Political family. Deep roots in Aldayne, going back to the 13th century. A good and proper wife by any account. Unfortunately, she wasn’t that strong, w
hich made her a perfect target for a Byrne. They married quickly and had Riona within the year. Rumor has it that it wasn’t an easy birth, which made her subsequent pregnancy with Cillian even more surprising. But Allan was determined to get an heir, so she was expected to do her job and keep the babies coming.”
“Issue,” I said, my tummy tightening.
He nodded. “It was a job that ultimately killed her. She died giving birth to Cillian.”
That information hit me like a punch in the gut. “What?” Despite how despicable he had been, my heart couldn’t help but tug for the infant that lost every chance to know his own mother.
I wondered how his life might have been different had she survived.
He sighed. “He wasn’t always like he is now. When I met him, he was every bit the lost little boy I was. It was why we bonded so strongly and held on so dearly.”
“Unlike you, he had a sister,” I pointed out, thinking of the timid woman I had met after the wedding.
“The general sentiment was that didn’t really do him much good as the Byrne heir. She was eldest. She was a threat to their plans only if she married,” he trailed off with a shrug. “But there was never really hope for that. Ree was trained to know her place.”
“Ree?”
“I grew up with her, too. I saw what they did to her. Broke my heart, honestly.”
Instantly my spine straightened. “What did they do to her?”
“Like I said, she knew her place. Cillian was the golden child. She was the shadow.”
“That’s disgusting,” I said, hating Allen even more than I already did.
“It didn’t help that she was different. She wasn’t like Eloise, who was charming and confident. It was like they decided a long time ago she was a mousey wallflower and she simply agreed. In a lot of ways, she was a lot like Dallas, except she had nothing to make her stand out and special. She was swallowed up while the garden bloomed around her.”
“Everybody has something to make them special,” I corrected fiercely. “If they don’t know that, they’re in the wrong garden.”
He smiled and took my hand. “This is why I love you, Pea. You see her. That’s a gift.”
“It’s not a gift, it’s a choice.” I thought about that poor little girl who grew up without a mother, who was pushed in the shadows and taught to be silent, as if her voice didn’t matter, simply because she was born a girl. It made me hate the Byrnes even more, particularly Allan, who should have known better as a father.
“Viv tried,” he said. “But there was only so much she could do. She was already an outcast from her first marriage. By the time Ree was a teenager, the die was cast. When I came back to Aldayne after Mother,” he trailed off, still unable to say the words, “Ree was practically a nun. She attended a girls-only religious school and was discouraged from dating.”
“Of course,” I sneered. “Couldn’t risk finding Mr. Right.”
“Honesty, it was probably better that way. Because she didn’t find Mr. Wrong, either.”
He had a point. A girl as vulnerable as that probably had a target on her back, just because of her wealthy, powerful family. “So, she never married?”
He shook his head. “Instead, she kind of filled in the role of wife/mother, despite only being thirteen months older than Cillian.”
I made a face. “That’s gross.”
He nodded. “She was always Allan’s right hand from the time he could put her to work. He wanted to keep her close, I guess.”
“So, where does Eloise fit in?”
His mouth thinned into a line as his eyes met mine. “I thought we weren’t talking about them.”
“How can we not, Auggie?”
He sighed and rose from his chair to go stand by the mullioned window, staring out at the grounds beyond. I rose from my chair to join him, wrapping my arms around him.
“I’m your wife, Auggie. Let me in. Let me bear this burden with you.”
He held me by the arms. “I know you’re going to find out. I just wanted to spare you a little longer.”
“Find out what?”
He turned to face me. “That I’m the reason Eloise and Cillian are no longer together.”
I stumbled back and I waited.
Then he uttered the last four words I had ever expected my loving, gentle husband to say.
“I killed their son.”
Chapter Nine
It was like thunder clapped in my ears. I stared at Auggie as if I had never met him before. “What are you saying?” I mumbled. “What are you even suggesting? Just…-what?!”
He reached for me, but I shied away. He couldn’t level me with that kind of bombshell and reach for a cuddle.
He sighed. “Five years ago, I came back to Aldayne. Mostly because that was what Old Mother wanted, but I also wanted to see if I could. Being a king, being a Quinn, meant I had to come face to face with the people who betrayed me the most. Cillian and Eloise, the happy couple who were raising a bouncing baby boy, an heir for the kingdom of Aldayne if I decided I couldn’t hack it.”
He pushed away from the window to pace the room.
“It ate at me, you know? To know that the baby I once thought was mine, the one that was going to restore family to me and get me to my happily ever after, threatened to unravel everything. I had two choices. I could walk away and stay away. Or I could return. Claim my rightful place on the throne and be confronted with their betrayal for the rest of my life.”
I held my tummy as I waited. Again, he sighed.
“So, I came back. I played the dutiful prince. I toed the line. Fulfilled all the expectations, including the annual hunt during Aldays.” His voice squeaked to a whisper as his throat closed in. “His name was Benjamin. They called him Benji. He looked just like Cillian did when we were kids. Just like him,” he added, his face ravaged by the memory. He walked to the bar to pour a drink, his first of the entire honeymoon.
“He was eight years old. It was his first hunt. Of course, he was too young. It’s not even legal to hunt until you’re ten. I brought that up to Cillian. He said, ‘What’s the matter, your Highness? Afraid you’ll be outdone by a child?’” His mouth drew into a tight, bitter line as he took another drink. “So, I said nothing. I said nothing to the queen. I said nothing to the authorities. I just let them wallow in their entitled privilege and tried to keep my distance. I couldn’t look him in the face and not be reminded of their betrayal. It hurt so bad, Pea,” he finally confessed. “So bad.”
Still, I waited.
“She knew it,” he said softly. “El came to me before the hunt. Wished me well if you can believe that. Then she stole a kiss. Told me that she still wished he could have been ours.” He drained his glass. “By the time we hit the woods, I didn’t know up from down. I was spiraling. I shouldn’t have been out there. And I sure as hell shouldn’t have been carrying a gun.”
He tossed the crystal tumbler into the fireplace, shattering it to bits. The fire flared from the remnants of alcohol.
“I started thinking about it. How just one bullet could undo everything. One bullet could forever rid me of my worst enemy. Could rid the world of another Byrne. I didn’t go out there to shoot Cillian Byrne. But I wasn’t about to shy away when the opportunity presented itself.”
“Auggie,” I finally breathed.
“I thought about it. Old Mother could make anything disappear. I could finally be fucking healed from what they did to me…,” he trailed off. “I aimed at a deer that stood just between me and my worst enemy. And I shot. Hoping I’d kill the deer, but really hoping it’d miss and kill Cillian instead.” He crumpled down onto a sofa. I ran to him as he broke down into deep, wretched sobs. “I killed the deer all right. Perfect shot. That’s when I heard the screaming.”
I rocked him as he cried.
“When I saw Cillian on the ground, I immediately regretted my dark thoughts. I thought about when we were kids. When it was just him and me against the world. Best friends. Brot
hers. In a second, I wanted to take it all back, Pea. I did. I swear I did. I would have given anything. Then he rose to his feet and I saw Benji in his arms,” he trailed off, unable to finish the sad, traumatic story.
“Auggie, it was an accident,” I tried to console him, but he was inconsolable. I wondered if he had ever even shared this story with anyone.
“That’s what the police said,” he muttered. “Said there were at least two bullets, and both came from Byrne guns, because they had supplied the equipment for the hunt. In the end, another hunter took responsibility for the death. They said my bullet didn’t even exit the deer. But I know what I thought. And I know why I aimed. I might as well have shot him point-blank.”
I got up to get him another snifter of brandy.
“I sat through the funeral. I made my condolences. But I could barely look either of them in the face. Despite how much I hated him, Cillian was destroyed that day. And no man deserves that.” He took the glass from me as I sat next to him. “I never thought I could be that kind of person. I thought I was better than that. That I was better than them.”
“You are,” I insisted.
He shook his head. “There was hatred in my heart, Pea. For a long, long time. It changes you.”
“And you changed back,” I reminded. Those sad green eyes met mine. I caressed his face. “You are gentle. You are kind. You are good, Augustine,” I added, using his full name for effect.
He broke down into fresh tears and I held him close.
I put away the albums and we didn’t mention the Byrnes again.
He was sedate the rest of our honeymoon, drinking a little more than usual. I could hardly blame him. He had long carried a burden that I didn’t envy. Needlessly so. Obviously, he was exonerated. I knew without a doubt the Byrnes would have nailed him to the wall had his bullet been the one to end that child’s life, accidental death or not. In fact, in a morbid way, his killing Benji would have handed them the kingdom. They had everything to gain had he been responsible for the deadly shot.
The Duke Takes a Bride (The Rocking Royal Trilogy Book 2) Page 9