Chapter 16 #2
I tell myself it's because I'm worried. Maybe that's true.
Maybe it isn't. All I know is that there was something in her expression back in the hall that I haven't been able to shake.
The announcement had barely ended before she looked like she wanted to disappear entirely, and every instinct I possess is telling me not to let her out of my sight just yet.
The farther we move from the main hall, the quieter the estate becomes. The sounds of conversation and laughter gradually fade behind us, replaced by an almost eerie silence broken only by the distant echo of footsteps.
Roisin turns into one of the more secluded residential corridors. Then suddenly stops. Someone is standing in her path.
Instinctively, I step back behind the corner before I can be seen. It takes me only a second to recognize him. Conall Keegan.
At first glance, the interaction appears harmless. A concerned uncle stopping his niece after a major family announcement. That illusion lasts less than ten seconds.
Even from a distance, I notice the immediate change in Roisin's posture.
Her shoulders stiffen. Her hands curl into tight fists at her sides before one of them drifts almost unconsciously to the sleeve of her dress, tugging the fabric lower despite the fact that the high neckline and long sleeves already leave almost nothing exposed.
Most telling of all, she refuses to look directly at him.
A feeling of unease settles heavily in my stomach.
"There you are." Conall says, stepping directly into her path. "You've been avoiding me all morning."
"I haven't been avoiding anyone, uncle."
His lips curve into a smile. The expression never reaches his eyes. "No? Then why did you leave so quickly after the announcement?"
Roisin shifts uncomfortably. "I wanted some air."
"Interesting." His gaze lingers on her face for far too long. "I would've thought you'd be happier."
Roisin says nothing.
Conall takes another step closer. "I certainly wasn't."
That finally makes her look up. "What?"
His smile widens slightly. "I said I wasn't happy about the announcement."
The corridor falls silent. My stomach twists.
"Uncle..."
"What?" He asks softly. "You expected me to celebrate handing you over to some Swedish brute?"
Roisin visibly recoils. "Please don't talk like that."
His eyes travel slowly over her face. "You deserve better."
The words should sound protective. They don't. They sound possessive.
Roisin tries to move around him. But Conall catches her arm before she can. Not aggressively. Almost casually. Which somehow makes it worse.
"Let go."
"You've barely spoken to me for weeks."
"Uncle."
"I miss our conversations." His thumb brushes against her arm.
I immediately see her entire body tense.
"You used to smile when you saw me."
"Please let me go."
"Now you're marrying him." The bitterness in his voice is impossible to miss.
"He doesn't know you."
"Stop."
"He doesn't know what makes you laugh."
"Uncle."
"He doesn't know how stubborn you are when you're angry." His voice drops lower. "And he certainly doesn't appreciate you the way I would."
Revulsion crawls up my spine. Roisin finally manages to pull her arm free.
Her breathing has become uneven. "I want to go to my room."
For a moment, something ugly flashes across Conall's face. Gone almost as quickly as it appears. Then he smiles again.
The smile is somehow worse. "Of course you do."
He reaches up as if to brush a loose strand of hair away from her face. But Roisin flinches. And that is the moment my patience snaps.
I step out from behind the corner. "Roisin! There you are."
Both of them turn toward me and I see relief flash across Roisin's face so quickly that she probably doesn't even realize I see it. Conall notices it too. His expression darkens immediately.
I walk straight toward them, smiling as though I haven't interrupted anything at all.
"I've been looking everywhere for you." I say lightly. "You disappeared before I could ask you something."
"Vivienne."
Conall's voice is pleasant. His eyes are not. "This is a private family conversation."
"Is it?" I glance between them before looking back at him. "My mistake."
I stop beside Roisin. Close enough that Conall has no choice but to step back. I see genuine irritation flash across his face.
"We were discussing her engagement."
"How lovely." The smile remains firmly fixed on my face. "Then I suppose I'll leave you to it."
But I don't move. Neither does he. The silence stretches.
Finally, I tilt my head slightly. "Although I have to admit, from a distance it looked rather intense."
Conall's jaw tightens. "I'm not sure what you're implying."
"Oh, nothing at all." My smile widens. "I simply thought that with so many important guests staying in the estate, misunderstandings would be unfortunate."
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The air between us feels razor sharp. Conall understands exactly what I'm saying. More importantly, he understands that I know.
The realization settles visibly across his face. The annoyance of a man who has been interrupted before getting what he wants.
Eventually he adjusts the cuff of his jacket. "Naturally."
His gaze shifts to Roisin before returning to me. "Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, ladies."
Then he walks away.
I wait until his footsteps disappear around the corner before looking at Roisin. The moment he is gone, her entire body seems to deflate. As though she has been holding her breath the entire time.
"Come on." I gently take her hand. She doesn't argue or pull away. She simply follows me.
I lead her through the manor and into her room before closing the door quietly behind us. Only then do I turn back toward her. She stands near the window with her head lowered, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
I step closer and reach for her shoulder, waiting until she finally lifts her head.
"Listen to me, Roisin." My voice is quieter now, but no less firm. "You are not a property."
Fresh tears spill down her cheeks.
"You are not something your family gets to trade away whenever it benefits them. You are not a contract. You are not an alliance. And you are certainly not a prize to be handed to a man simply because it makes somebody else's life easier."
She stares at me as though she has never heard anyone speak this way before. As though the idea itself is unfamiliar.
"You are a person, Roisin." I continue. "You deserve to make your own choices. You deserve to decide who you love, who you trust, who to marry, and what kind of future you want for yourself. Most importantly, you deserve to feel safe in your own home."
For a moment, she simply looks at me. Silent. Listening. I can practically see the conflict in her eyes. Years of obedience battling against something she has buried for a very long time.