Page 37 of The Irish Arrangement

I found it ironic that I worked myself weary at the farm, and we still didn’t have much to show for it.

Maybe Declan was that kind of a man. A workaholic, and if he was, it wasn’t my business because I was nothing but a brood mare. Or so he thought.

One afternoon, I found the slender brunette in the kitchen. Riley, I heard the cook refer to her as. A junior cook. Maid? I didn’t know all the titles. I did know that stout woman and the older, grouchy man were the head cooks. And they did not like me in their domain. They were either strictly possessive of their duties and roles as the main preparers of food here or they didn’t trust me. Perhaps they had to keep me on the other side of the line in this household. Staff versus family. Or imprisoned guests. There didn’t seem to be an in between, but as Riley glanced up at me, I hoped she wouldn’t be so uppity as to dismiss me.

For fuck’s sake, having one person to speak to would prevent me from going nuts.

“Can I help you?” she asked, setting down a plate she’d just wiped dry.

“I’m just bored.” I shrugged, hoping that gesture would make me look more approachable and nonthreatening so she wouldn’t shoo me away.

Her brows popped up high. She seemed surprised, like someone being bored in this grand home with all needs met would be ridiculous.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’m so fucking bored.”

The start of a smile showed on her lips.

“I used to be a busy person before I came here.” And I didn’t know what to do with myself now. Other than miss my mom and the farm. Or wonder about why it felt so good when Declan fucked me raw.

“Busy doing what?” she asked.

I was grateful and glad to see a glimmer of intrigue in her eyes.

When Ian and Declan asked me about my family at dinner that one night, I felt like I was a suspect. Like I was some person to torture for information. Information that they would no doubt try to use against me. Facing this staff member, I got stuck on the assumption that she was simply curious about me.

“I used to work at a farm.”

Once more, she seemed surprised, smiling wider. “Really? A farm?”

“A sheep farm.”

“Oh…” She grinned, and her whole face lit up. “I can just imagine the little lambs.”

Yeah, well, you’re looking at one now. I felt like one while Declan was the wolf.

“I’m used to working with my hands and being outside.” I didn’t waste the effort to smile when I didn’t feel happy. I bet it would go a long way to make it seem like I was just talking, not complaining, but it felt too good to just talk to someone. Turning my head, I gazed at the gray skies outside.

She glanced around the kitchen as though she needed to check whether anyone would catch us in here. It reaffirmed my guess that the staff had been instructed to ignore me.

“Then I bet you’re going stir-crazy in here, huh?”

I nodded. I didn’t know if I was half insane from worrying about my mom and wondering if she was okay or from the loss of having a true purpose, like working at the farm. I didn’t belong here. I felt like an outsider. And the next five months and two weeks felt like an eternity to get through.

“I have to say that you’re a much easier wife to deal with, though.” She gave me a silly smile, as though she was giddy to talk so freely with me.

“I’m an easy wife to deal with?” I laughed. I doubted Declan would agree. “I’m not your wife.”

She giggled, not offended by my sarcasm. “I know. I meant the wife of the house.” Then she huffed. “I doubt I’ll ever get married myself.”

I raised my brows and laughed harder. “Ha! That’s what I thought.”

She sobered up. “Well, that’s the nature of the marriages in these Families. Nobody ever thinks they’ll get hitched, but then they’re arranged to do just that.”

“Was Declan married before?”

I hated the thought as soon as it entered my mind. I wasn’t jealous. The man was at least fifteen years older than me and clearly experienced compared to the virginal state I was in when I arrived. Of course, he had been with other women. Half the time he was gone, I bet he was fucking around. I tried not to dwell on it. Sometimes, I had to force that anxious assumption from my mind.

She held up two fingers.

---