Page 8 of The Past

Oh, such a lie, but I didn’t call her out.My mother was a good cook, but I hoped they might get food poisoning somehow and then they’d think I’m not good marriage material.

Mam led us to the dining room, which was set for an elegant meal, the long oak table polished to a high shine, the best china laid out.My father directed everyone where to sit, putting himself and Mr.Kavanagh at the ends of the table and me right next to Brian.He gallantly held out my chair for me, causing Paddy and Siobhan to bust into a quiet fit of giggles.

Dinner was a performance on my part as I ate with delicate bites and acted the demure, obedient daughter.I listened with great interest as my father tried to impress the Kavanaghs with his plans to expand our empire.

“I’m thinking of starting a breeding operation in Kentucky.Glenhaven is ready to gain a foothold in the American bloodstock market.”

“That’s ambitious,” Mr.Kavanagh said, although his tone was a little disbelieving.“And is it really necessary?”

“We already ship our best stallions to the States so that the Americans can breed with our bloodlines.Why not expand there permanently?Glenhaven is ready to take the world stage but it would need the right partners.”

Mr.Kavanagh’s eyes gleamed with opportunity, and he glanced at me briefly.Of course, I’d be the tie to bring them into the fold.“We should talk about this more,” he said from across the table.“Maybe at the club tomorrow?”

I tuned them out at that point.The thought that I’d be a part of the conversation about merging the two farms nauseated me.

Brian attempted small talk, of course, but it was boring.He boasted about his horses, his car, his travels.I answered politely but gave little away.

He leaned back in his chair, his wineglass swirling lazily in his hand, the flickering candlelight catching the deep red of the liquid.He was entirely too pleased with himself, basking in the sound of his own voice as he recounted his latest trip abroad.

“It’s a shame ye’ve never been to Paris, Fiona,” he said, casting me a knowing look.“Ye’d love it.The fashion, the lights, the way the city hums at night—nothing like Ireland.”

I smiled, polite but disinterested.“Aye, I’m sure it’s lovely, but I don’t think I’d trade the green hills for city lights.”

Brian chuckled, shaking his head like I was some poor, naive farm girl who didn’t know any better.“Ah, ye’re too attached to this place.There’s a whole world out there, ye know.Ye ought to see it before ye settle down, before ye’re…” He trailed off meaningfully, his stare holding mine in a way that made my skin prickle.“Tied to the land like the rest of us.”

I stiffened, immediately knowing what he was getting at.I was offended he thought me unworldly.My passport was in good working order and I’d traveled to England and Italy with my parents.I wasn’t a simpleton who couldn’t see past her front door.

“And what makes ye think I’ll be settling down anytime soon?”I asked, keeping my voice light, though my jaw was tight.

Brian smirked, setting his glass down with a soft clink.“Well, yer da seems to think it’s about time.And ye know how it is—our families, our farms.It’s all about keeping things in the right hands, isn’t it?”

I bristled at his confidence.He spoke as if my future had already been decided, as if I had no say in it.

“I suppose it’s easy for ye,” I said, arching a brow.“Ye’ll inherit Kavanagh Stud without question.No one’s pushing ye into anything, are they?”

“Not at all,” Brian admitted, flashing me a grin.“But that’s because I already know what I want.”

I had the sinking feeling I knew exactly what he was about to say.

“And what is that?”I asked, dreading the answer.

Brian leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make my stomach turn.“Ye, Fiona.”

I barely kept my expression neutral.It took every ounce of effort not to respond.

“We’ve known each other since we were kids,” he continued, as if I needed reminding.“And we both know our families want the same thing.It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“Makes sense for whom?”I asked, forcing a small laugh to keep the sharpness out of my tone.

“For everyone,” Brian said smoothly.“For yer family, for mine.For us.”

“Brian—”

“Look,” he interrupted, flashing me an easy smile.“We don’t have to make a big thing of it.Just a dinner, somewhere nice.I’ll pick ye up in the Porsche, we’ll go to Waterford, maybe find a place with a bit of music.No pressure, no expectations—just us enjoying a night out.”

I hesitated.Every part of me wanted to say no, to tell him that I had no interest in being part of whatever grand plan he and our fathers had cooked up.But across the table, my da’s sharp watch burned into me, his expression a silent warning.

Be agreeable, Fiona.Be obedient.

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