Page 32 of Savage Promises

“The brideshould be part of these plans.” Ma’s stern voice surprises me.

“Ma!” I snap and step in front of Lennox. “I accept Lennox is here instead of her sister.”

Ma clears her throat again. “I meant no offense, dear.”

“None taken.” Lennox blinks up at Ma. “But Neve made commitments to her volleyball team before this arrangement. We want to reward her honor to the team. In fact, we were talking about postponing to give her—”

“We’re not postponing,” I blurt, squeezing Lennox’s hand. “How about dinner, Ma?”

“Aye. Are you hungry, dear?” Ma falls into her role of nurturer.

“I am.” Lennox draws a breath. “Thank you, Mrs. Quinlan.”

“Call me Norah, please,” my mother corrects with a smile.

I see the flicker of surprise in Lennox’s eyes at the invitation to call Ma by her first name.

“I made stew,” Ma says, heading into the dining room. “This way.”

I lay my hand lightly on Lennox’s waist, guiding her through the grand hall. Her body tenses under my touch, but she doesn’t pull away or walk too far ahead. When we reach the dining room, Lennox hesitates, staring agog at its formal grandeur.

I see the awe in her expression as she takes in the ornate settings. Fine china sits handsomely in Ma’s daunting mahogany breakfront with crystal stemware that sparkles behind the glass doors. The dining room hasn’t been used for a formal meal in a very long time. We usually eat at the island in the kitchen.

Sure enough, Ma made up three elegant place settings. Her at the head of the table, me opposite her, and Neve, now Lennox’s place, on the side across from the breakfront.

With Ma seated, Caroline carries in the tureen and the aroma of Ma’s stew fills the room. I stand to help her make up the dishes. Handing one to Lennox, I see a pink tongue sweep across her lush lips.

“It’s been forever since I had homecooked stew,” she confesses and picks up her spoon. “I’d love to learn how to make this.”

“Little Norah...” Ma begins with the sign of the cross over her heart. “Was my kitchen helper, learned all my recipes. Siobhan wanted to play detective with her brothers.”

I wince at Ma bringing up my deceased sister in frontof Lennox.

“Ewan learned to cook, though.” My oldest brother kept us all from starving when my sister got sick and Ma was back and forth to the doctors with her.

“Aye. And now he cooks for his lovely wife and three daughters.” Ma smiles, reminding me that after Norah, Ewan is her favorite.

He’s also the reason she won’t let Griffin buy an apartment for her in Manhattan. She minds the girls for Ewan and Darcy who live a few blocks away.

“I don’t suppose your sister Neve, being so young and busy with her games, would want to learn to cook an old-fashioned Irish lamb stew,” my mother says, her tone sharp with concern.

“I guess.” Lennox stares at her bowl, looking like she regrets filling in for Neve and wishes she were anywhere else.

God, I hate this. Hate the way this arrangement has forced Lennox into defending Neve’s choices while bearing the brunt of everyone’s frustration.

“I’ll teachyou, dear.” Ma is a mother first, sensing Lennox’s unease. “Someone will need to make sure my son is fed and cared for properly.”

My staring at Lennox melts into a horrifying awareness of just how much I want her to take care ofallmy needs.

“But tonight. I take care of you,” Ma adds, breaking a piece of bread and handing it to Lennox. “You look thin, lass. Don’t you feed yourself properly?”

Lennox flushes, clearly uncomfortable. “I do have to skip dinner here and there. I’m fine, really.”

“You’re not fine if you’re skipping meals,” I interject before I can stop myself. “You’ve always been...” I pause, searching for the right word. Beautiful? Vibrant? None of those feel appropriate, not with my mother sitting acrossfrom me, watching me like I’ve lost my mind.

I might not care if I’m letting it slip to Lennox how more and more I wish I was marrying her. But I don’t dare give any hint to my mother about it.

“Perfect,” I finish, loving her curves. “You just need to take care of yourself.”

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