Page 88 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

She worried her lip. “Maybe I can see if Ghislaine can get them to agree to a remote interview, but she’ll argue in person is better. I’m really torn.”

He drew her hand over her heart. “Listen to this. It’s guided you well so far. I’ll see you soon.” Kissing her one last time, he headed for the door. “I’ll lock it behind me so you—”

She was already typing on her phone. He loved that she wanted to thank as many people as possible for their kind posts, but there were so many it would be like picking up every grain of sand and thanking it for being part of the beach.

When he arrived at Summercrest, he frowned at the additional cars. Carrick’s and Kade’s. Letting himself inside, he heard heated voices and followed them into the kitchen.

“It’s the vilest and lowest form of—”

Declan broke off mid-sentence when he spotted Jamie in the doorway. Everyone turned, their faces grim.

“Who’s being buried?” he asked.

Carrick raised his hand and walked forward. “I’ll be the one to tell him.”

Ellie grabbed something from the counter and thrust it out as he passed her. He crumpled it fractionally in his hand.

Jamie’s stomach turned sour. “That bad, is it?”

“Bad and then some,” Carrick said. “Liam went out for milk this morning and found these flyers plastered around the village. And there are placards in the churchyards.”

“Then there’s the gossip,” Brady broke in harshly.

“We’ll get to that.” Carrick held up the wrinkled flyer. “Mary and Orla’s response.”

The first words he saw were the all capsTHIS IS ART?Two paintings were depicted under it. Nudes. He colored at the depictions and wanted to curse himself for doing so. One was of a woman watching from a doorway as a couple had sex, while the other depicted a woman pleasuring herself on a gold divan in the sunlight with her skirts raised.

Under the paintings, there were more bold all-caps words.STOP THE DEVIL’S SPAWN FROM RUINING CAISLEAN.

He took a moment, feeling his heart rate pick up. “The paintings are by Sophie’s parents?”

“Conveniently left out, of course,” Kathleen said with a fist to her hand. “The one with the woman watching the couple is her mother’s. She painted it after catching her husband cheating, and it’s one of three paintings about betrayal. I’ve always thought it was powerful, but then again, I did my own series on the subject in metal.”

“The other is by Sophie’s dad,” Ellie said softly, “and I think it’s both beautiful and tasteful. However, that’s not what this is about. Mary and Orla are trying to say Sophie’s going to start following in her parents’ footsteps or some such crap. And that’s not all that’s being said. Tell him, Brady.”

Jamie crumpled the flyer because it felt good and glanced over at his friend. “Let me guess. Pub talk.”

Brady nodded. “No one in the pub was saying any of it from conviction. They think it’s wrong, as wrong as it comes. But they passed it on to let me know which way the wind’s blowing.”

He braced his feet. “Just say it straight.”

“They’re saying you’re going bad,” Brady said, his mouth twisting. “Because of Sophie.”

Nothing could have braced him for that. She was the best, the sweetest and kindest woman in the world. “That’s horseshit! All the way.”

“Oh, tell him the full of it,” Declan ground out.

Brady gave a pleading look. “I can’t say it.”

His brother gave a nod, then speared Jamie with a brooding look. “I take no pleasure in it, but you should know what’s being uttered. Jamie, they’re saying you’re ‘cuntstruck.’”

His intake of breath echoed in the quiet kitchen.

“And those same vicious people are saying Sophie is the devil’s spawn and a whore,” Kathleen continued, anger lacing her voice. “That she sent her child away so she could have deviant sex with you this week.”

He choked out a cough. “Deviant? But that’s mad! She sent Greta away to protect her.”

“Not according to their tale,” Liam added. “We built the walls and gate for you both to cushion your ecstatic howls and protect the village from knowing about your wild orgy behavior.”

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