Page 57 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

His friend clapped him on the back as they ascended the stairs. “You know. I believe you’ve already found your gem, Jamie. Her name is Sophie. I’ll see you later.”

Liam headed toward the stairs to the second floor, leaving Jamie alone in the main hallway. The pleasing scent of oranges surrounded him, and he turned his head slowly. Sorcha was standing under one of the metal sculptures Kathleen had designed for the house—a boxer in mid-punch, modeled after Declan, of course.

She gave a little wave. “I figured you had enough excitement today so I wouldn’t frighten you.”

“Thank you,” he said grandly. “Are you here to tell me what to do about it all?”

“I figure you already know.” She made a fist and pressed it into her other hand. “You must do what does not come naturally to you. Both of you. This fight isn’t going to just go away. You’ll need to stand up for yourselves and trust others to do the same. Hold fast to each other, Jamie. Liam was right when he said the truth would win. But do you know what else will?”

He shook his head. “What?”

Her smile softened the angles of her face. “Love. And that, my boy, you and Sophie have in spades. It will see you through.”

With that, she disappeared as if she’d never been. He exhaled harshly, the sound echoing in the empty hall.

He needed to tell Sophie about the letter, and he didn’t want to do it on their date tonight. She’d all but told him she wanted to make love with him. He’d been eyeing the weather nonstop, and while it would be cold, no rain was in the forecast. Not that the eejit weathermen were prescient. But he hoped they would be right. God, did he hope.

Deciding it best to tell Sophie about the new development now, before they went out, he located his wallet and keys. Tugging on a coat, he headed for his car.

Carrick was strolling up the drive pushing Emeline in a baby carriage. “Bets sent the censorship inquiry letter to all of the center’s direct board members now that we know Malcolm has a nonvoting member in his pocket. Were you planning on calling and telling me?”

“I only just got it this morning.” Jamie trotted down the drive, ducking under the rim of the carriage to smile at his bundled-up niece. “Our new postman was nice enough to deliver it to me here since he knows I’m not staying at my house right now. You’ll tell Angie for me, won’t you?”

“Already did.” Carrick rocked the baby carriage. “I haven’t heard her swear like that in forever. She invited you over for dinner tonight, but I told her you probably had plans. It’s date night with Sophie, isn’t it? Eoghan told me at the Brazen Donkey the other night how much he loves babysitting Greta. He and Sandrine are so vital at their age, we might even take them up on minding Emeline.”

“Yes, I’ll be with Sophie tonight.” He squinted as the sun broke through the haze of clouds overhead. “She’s the only grace in all of this. Not that she isn’t getting kicked blue herself.”

Carrick gripped his shoulder, his eyes intent. “I wonder if she’s a little more used to it than you are. Do I need to worry about you, brother?”

He rocked back at the question. “That’s not a question I expected from you.”

“And yet, I’m asking it. Mum will want to know if she and Dad should return from their holiday early.”

“For the love of God, no.” He leaned under the carriage rim again to make sure to smile at Emeline after that utterance. “Linc has lawyers to help handle it, but I’m sure I’m going to have plenty of people asking me about the situation even if they think it’s bollocks.”

Carrick continued the easy motion with the baby carriage. “Eoghan will be outraged, and there’s no better place to express outrage than in the Brazen Donkey, which I’m sure he’ll be visiting this afternoon. Let him do his work, Jamie. He’s good at rousing people’s tempers. Because if this censorship board can go after you, they can go after anyone. My wife included.”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. “Is she worried then?”

Carrick set his weight, like he was preparing to take on the world. “She says she’s not, but I know my Yank. Her brow knit before she picked up the baby and turned away from me. The media attacked Sophie for a seemingly tasteful nude of a pregnant woman that lacks the kind of detail that’s in my wife’s oil paintings. Well. I imagine we’ll know more soon enough. Malcolm Coveney is the kind of person who’ll do everything he can to crush us into the ground if he can’t have his way.”

“So is Mary Kincaid and her coven,” Jamie said darkly.

“If I wasn’t a father, I’d be cursing for sure.” He gestured to Jamie’s keys. “I’m keeping you. Where were you off to?”

“To tell Sophie the news well before our date. I don’t want anything to spoil it.”

“Sound thinking. Kiss your niece goodbye, and then I’ll be going.”

The sweet smell of his niece and her drooling little face gave him a moment of solace. “You want a ride home?”

“No. We need to enjoy the days when it isn’t pouring. Lately, I’ve come home so wet and mucky I have to wait to kiss my own wife and daughter. I’ll see you later, Jamie.”

His brother turned the stroller around and started down the driveway. Jamie tipped his head up and studied the sky. Carrick was better than any weatherman, in tune with the land as he was. If he said it wasn’t going to rain, it wasn’t going to rain. A shaft of hope opened up in Jamie’s chest at the thought.

Tonight, he and Sophie would have their date on the beach and let love guide their way.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

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