Chapter 7 Brodan #2
Almost twenty years of the strongest bond I’d ever felt with someone, and she left me like it was easy.
Crying babies had a way of making you forget anything but the sound of crying babies.
My nieces were apparently already best buddies because as soon as one started crying, the other wailed right along with her. Fuck, my head was nipping. I had no idea how my siblings were coping with this.
Despite dinner being hosted at Robyn and Lachlan’s, Regan was cooking. She’d smiled gratefully at me when I deposited three bottles of wine I’d bought from Morag’s on the island in front of her, and Eredine had swooped in to pour those of us drinking a glass before dinner even started.
It might have had something to do with the cacophony of infant indignation.
Though Christ knew what they had to be pissed off about.
“They’re so loud, Mum!” Eilidh stood at Regan’s side, her cute face scrunched up in horror.
“You were loud once too,” Thane reminded his daughter as he grabbed two glasses of wine and walked over to our sister to offer her one.
Arro shook her head, waving the wine away, as she watched Mac sway their daughter from side to side. He murmured words I couldn’t hear, but Skye’s crying petered off.
Vivien’s, not so much.
Robyn held her while Lachlan hovered over them, looking as if he hadn’t slept in ten years.
To be fair, they all looked like they hadn’t slept in ten years.
All four of them had taken maternity leave.
Lachlan had even hired a new hospitality manager at Ardnoch.
Aria Howard, the efficient and very attractive daughter of legendary director Wesley Howard.
He was a member of Ardnoch Estate’s board and owned one of the multimillion-pound homes on the estate’s coastal land.
Lachlan had introduced me to Aria before Robyn gave birth.
He was a control freak, so he was nervous about handing over the reins, but I’d promised I’d keep an eye out for him.
So far, Aria was running the place as efficiently as Lachlan would.
Even more so because she wasn’t distracted by a newborn.
“Let’s try putting them down again,” Arro suggested loudly to be heard.
Robyn nodded, and Lachlan leaned in to take his daughter. “I’ll do it.”
With Vivien in his arms, he and Mac tread upstairs to the nursery to try once more to get the girls to fall asleep.
My sister-in-law shared a weary smile with my sister.
“It’s going well, then,” I teased, raising a glass to them.
“It’s worth it,” Arro said, even as she rested her head against the armchair and closed her eyes.
“Oh, aye, it looks it.”
At my sarcasm, Robyn quirked an eyebrow. “Just you wait until it’s your turn. You’ll understand then.”
“Never going to happen,” I said with absolute conviction. Fatherhood was not in the cards for me. Ignoring the pang of loss at the reminder, I searched for distraction elsewhere.
As my siblings talked about nappies and bath times and all that shit while Eredine sat on Arran’s lap and they happily listened, I zeroed in on my nephew. Lewis sat on the farthest-away armchair, his headphones on and a tablet in hand.
Smart man.
I sauntered over to him, and he looked up at me as I sat down on the armrest. Lewis removed one side of his headphones.
“What are you playing?” I glanced down at his screen.
“All Star Tower Defense.”
Never heard of it. “Right.”
Lewis smirked at me. “It’s on Roblox.”
He was speaking a foreign language. “Of course it is.”
My nephew grinned. “You want to see?”
“Sure.”
And so until dinner was ready, my nephew played and explained to me what was happening with his anime character and the mission he was on. I’d never been a gamer, but I could see the appeal.
To everyone’s relief, Mac and Lachlan got the girls to sleep just as Regan and Thane delivered dinner to the table.
We talked quietly (although Eilidh had to be reminded to lower her voice multiple times) to not wake the babies.
All in all, I thought I was doing a grand job of shaking off the encounter with Monroe …
until Eredine asked the kids how school was going.
Eilidh gave us a full five-minute rundown of life in primary three.
By the way she told it, she was the benevolent leader of her class and champion of the underdog.
No bully was getting past Eilidh Francine Adair.
The kid was so bloody cute, it killed me.
I grinned down at her the entire time she talked, watching her gesticulate with her little hands.
Her stepmum gently hushed her anytime her voice rose with excitement.
Then it was Lewis’s turn. “School’s good.” He shrugged. “Ms. Sinclair is the best teacher I’ve had.”
My gut clenched, and I stuffed a piece of roast chicken in my mouth so I didn’t have to look at anyone.
I felt their attention on me, anyway, but waited patiently for someone to change the subject. Lewis wasn’t particularly talkative, so I was sure we were done with it.
“Why is she the best?” Robyn asked.
Fuck, thanks, Robyn.
“Uh … I don’t know. She just is.” Lewis shrugged again.
Eilidh grinned at her brother. “Lewis fancies her.”
Lewis went beetroot. “I do not, Eilidh. Shut up!”
Nearly every single adult at the table hurriedly shushed him. Thane gave his son a warning look. “Don’t tell your sister to shut up.”
“Well, tell her to stop lying.”
Eilidh grinned wickedly at her brother. “I only speak the truth.”
Before Lewis could launch himself across the table at his sister, Lachlan leaned his head toward our nephew and said something quietly that made Lewis relax. From there, thankfully, the subject of Ms. Sinclair was dropped.
But it was too late.
I kept seeing her expression in the window reflection when I’d walked away as if she’d never spoken.
And not for the first time, I wondered why she was still Ms. Sinclair.
Why hadn’t she married? Why on earth was Monroe still single?
It made no sense. All Roe had ever wanted was a simple life.
She’d told me she wanted a job she cared about, a husband who loved her, and children they’d adore, breaking the cycle of abuse and loneliness in her family.
Yet she was still alone?
Needing some air, I excused myself after dessert and stepped out into the back garden, closing the sliding doors behind me so I wouldn’t let in the chill. Outdoor lights illuminated the deck and a small portion of the garden.
The moon, mostly obscured by clouds, danced in broken shards across the black water beyond the cliffs. I could hear the sea crashing below, and though I shivered against the cold night, I closed my eyes and focused on the present.
Slowly, my tension eased.
Then the door opened behind me, and I turned to find Arran stepping outside to join me. He closed the door and shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s fucking Baltic. What are you doing out here?”
“Just needed a minute.”
“William McLoud supplies the bar at the Gloaming with its more expensive alcohol,” Arran said abruptly. “We’ve become friends.”
Shit.
Arran glowered. “Got a text from him that you ignored Monroe when she approached you in his store tonight. That you walked out without a word. Will said Monroe looked like you’d slapped her.”
Wee prick. “Got your spies watching me?”
“You know what this place is like, Brodan. Don’t pretend you don’t. Someone is always watching.”
“Well, isn’t that creepy?” I drawled.
Arran sighed. “I thought you and I were past this. I thought you weren’t pissed off at me anymore about what happened all those years back, but what you said a few weeks ago at the Gloaming has really been bothering me. You’re still holding that drunken night with Roe against me.”
I cut him an annoyed look. “I am not. Aye, there’s no denying I was angry at the time, but it was only because you fucking Monroe was like you’d fucked my sister.” Lie. Bloody lie. “I’m not angry now. I’m over it.” Honestly, I didn’t know one way or the other if that was the truth.
Arran scoffed. “If that were true, you’d still be talking to Monroe, not treating her like she doesn’t even exist.” I heard the censure in his voice and looked away.
“Fergus slept with Arro behind our backs when she wasn’t even legal, and we all forgave him and her.
Of course, that was before we knew he was a sociopath. ”
Flinching at the reminder that my friend had turned on my family, had taken his beef with me out on them, I glared out at the dark sea. “Is it possible to catch up with my brother without him bringing up people who don’t matter anymore?”
“If she didn’t matter, you wouldn’t be so furious with her.”
“Arran … leave it.”
“She’s not had it easy.” My brother pushed. “Right now, she’s looking after her mum, and from what I remember, that woman was a witch to Monroe.”
I remembered. I’d wanted Monroe to move out as soon as she turned eighteen. Dad had even agreed to let her stay at the castle, but Roe was too prideful to do it.
“She’s living in Gordon’s caravan and winter is rolling in. She’ll be freezing her arse off out there, but she won’t accept a better place to live. I’ve tried.”
So she was still too prideful. I refused to picture her in a caravan by the water during the harsh Highland winter.
“Why do you care so much?” I asked lazily, as if I didn’t care that Arran cared.
My brother yanked on my arm, drawing my gaze back to his. He stared at me incredulously. “Because she’s my friend. I’ve known her my whole life. Because she’s a good person. And once upon a time, you would have died before letting anything happen to her. Do you even remember that?”
Rage flushed through me, but I controlled it.
I turned it to ice in my veins. “Things change,” I told my brother flatly.
“I haven’t thought about Monroe Sinclair in almost eighteen years.
She means nothing to me. I couldn’t care less where she’s living or what she’s dealing with.
She could fall off the face of the planet, and I wouldn’t notice. ”
Arran curled his upper lip, and I tried not to wince against his disdain. “When did you turn into such a callous bastard?”
He walked away, slipping inside the house, before I could say another word.
Teeth grinding, I turned back to the sea and closed my eyes, listening to the waves crash, trying to find the peace I’d had before my youngest brother pushed my buttons.
I couldn’t.
All I could think about was the cold trying to burrow through my long-sleeved tee. And then all I could think about was Monroe, freezing and unprotected in a caravan anyone could break into. Only a few years ago, Fergus had broken into the one Robyn was staying in and attacked her with a knife.
The thought made my chest tighten.
Robyn had survived.
And Roe would survive a winter alone in a caravan.
She was made of stern stuff.
She’d be fine.