14. Cara
14
CARA
I was alone. Again.
I didn’t know if my husband understood that it usually took more than once to get a woman pregnant. A normal one.
I had no chance of conceiving anyway, but still, could a man expect to get an heir when he only tried weekly?
Ever since that one time when my mom demanded that my father pay for more specialized medical care in the city, I knew that my likelihood of ever having a child was slim or next to none.
Knowing that I had no actual odds of fertility shaped my views on my future. I never counted on having children, and once I had that thought in my head—when I was still a young teenager myself—I never really let myself get carried away with fantasies of having a nice, big family.
While I stayed in this huge home, this magnificent castle with no one for company, I wondered what Declan actually imagined it would be like to add a child here. Would he hire a nanny? Would he remain aloof to his own flesh and blood and obtain staff specialized to rear him or her? Because the man was never here. Never. He made no moves to stay for more than a day.
At first, I thought it was because of me and evident with the way he treated me at our wedding. I wondered if he wanted to avoid my presence, as though the reminder that he was connected to me in any way was so awful.
Maybe he was simply that busy. This castle was as old as it was large, and it was stuffed with all kinds of very expensive-looking items. The clocks to the side tables. The chandeliers to the fine forks laid out for meals. More than once, I whiled away hours in the hallways and in the many parlors, lazily looking at the artwork that likely belonged in museums. All of it had to have cost a fortune, and I understood that the Sullivan name represented great wealth. And to achieve that rich status, they had to work, right?
You’d think.
I found it ironic that I worked myself weary at the farm, and we still didn’t have much to show for it.
Maybe Declan was that kind of a man. A workaholic, and if he was, it wasn’t my business because I was nothing but a brood mare. Or so he thought.
One afternoon, I found the slender brunette in the kitchen. Riley, I heard the cook refer to her as. A junior cook. Maid? I didn’t know all the titles. I did know that stout woman and the older, grouchy man were the head cooks. And they did not like me in their domain. They were either strictly possessive of their duties and roles as the main preparers of food here or they didn’t trust me. Perhaps they had to keep me on the other side of the line in this household. Staff versus family. Or imprisoned guests. There didn’t seem to be an in between, but as Riley glanced up at me, I hoped she wouldn’t be so uppity as to dismiss me.
For fuck’s sake, having one person to speak to would prevent me from going nuts.
“Can I help you?” she asked, setting down a plate she’d just wiped dry.
“I’m just bored.” I shrugged, hoping that gesture would make me look more approachable and nonthreatening so she wouldn’t shoo me away.
Her brows popped up high. She seemed surprised, like someone being bored in this grand home with all needs met would be ridiculous.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’m so fucking bored.”
The start of a smile showed on her lips.
“I used to be a busy person before I came here.” And I didn’t know what to do with myself now. Other than miss my mom and the farm. Or wonder about why it felt so good when Declan fucked me raw.
“Busy doing what?” she asked.
I was grateful and glad to see a glimmer of intrigue in her eyes.
When Ian and Declan asked me about my family at dinner that one night, I felt like I was a suspect. Like I was some person to torture for information. Information that they would no doubt try to use against me. Facing this staff member, I got stuck on the assumption that she was simply curious about me.
“I used to work at a farm.”
Once more, she seemed surprised, smiling wider. “Really? A farm?”
“A sheep farm.”
“Oh…” She grinned, and her whole face lit up. “I can just imagine the little lambs.”
Yeah, well, you’re looking at one now. I felt like one while Declan was the wolf.
“I’m used to working with my hands and being outside.” I didn’t waste the effort to smile when I didn’t feel happy. I bet it would go a long way to make it seem like I was just talking, not complaining, but it felt too good to just talk to someone. Turning my head, I gazed at the gray skies outside.
She glanced around the kitchen as though she needed to check whether anyone would catch us in here. It reaffirmed my guess that the staff had been instructed to ignore me.
“Then I bet you’re going stir-crazy in here, huh?”
I nodded. I didn’t know if I was half insane from worrying about my mom and wondering if she was okay or from the loss of having a true purpose, like working at the farm. I didn’t belong here. I felt like an outsider. And the next five months and two weeks felt like an eternity to get through.
“I have to say that you’re a much easier wife to deal with, though.” She gave me a silly smile, as though she was giddy to talk so freely with me.
“I’m an easy wife to deal with?” I laughed. I doubted Declan would agree. “I’m not your wife.”
She giggled, not offended by my sarcasm. “I know. I meant the wife of the house.” Then she huffed. “I doubt I’ll ever get married myself.”
I raised my brows and laughed harder. “Ha! That’s what I thought.”
She sobered up. “Well, that’s the nature of the marriages in these Families. Nobody ever thinks they’ll get hitched, but then they’re arranged to do just that.”
“Was Declan married before?”
I hated the thought as soon as it entered my mind. I wasn’t jealous. The man was at least fifteen years older than me and clearly experienced compared to the virginal state I was in when I arrived. Of course, he had been with other women. Half the time he was gone, I bet he was fucking around. I tried not to dwell on it. Sometimes, I had to force that anxious assumption from my mind.
She held up two fingers.
Twice?
Learning that Declan had been married twice before unsettled me. Was he trying to compare me to them? Did I measure up to whatever his other wives were like? Why didn’t they last?
So many questions pinged in my mind, and I didn’t want to overwhelm Riley by asking.
I didn’t plan to stick with Declan either. He shook my hand that we only had to be together for six months.
“Twice?” I asked.
She nodded, crossing her arms and resting her hip against the ledge of the counter.
“You’ve known Declan, or, uh, worked here that long?”
“Yeah. I’ve worked here since I was a kid. Anyway, first there was Erin. She cheated on him.”
Wow. “With a guard?”
She frowned. “No. She got with some Italian guy. I don’t remember his name. I get lost with all those Mafia Families over there.”
I blinked. “She—Erin was allowed to leave the house? To meet this guy?”
“Yeah.”
I let my shoulders slump. “Damn. I wish I could go outside at all.”
She laughed. “I don’t know why Declan is so nervous about your walking around outside. It’s not like the guards aren’t always out there, patrolling the whole property.”
I wonder what you’d think if I told you he took my phone, too. Riley had her loyalties. She worked here. But I appreciated that she was openminded to talk with me.
“So, first, Erin cheated on him,” I repeated.
“Yeah. She cheated on him, got knocked up by her lover, and then the lover killed her because she wouldn’t leave Declan but was carrying his baby.” She waved her hand in the air. “It was a big old drama.”
“Wow.” I wasn’t expecting that.
“Yeah, then there was Caitlin. She was terrible. I couldn’t stand her.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind talking with you, but I’m not supposed to mix with you, or with the Family.”
“Mix with me?” I laughed once. “Like I’m some royal princess or something special.”
“You are married to one of the Sullivan brothers. Lots of women would envy the security of the Family.”
I sighed, planning to agree to disagree.
“Caitlin was whiny. And needy. And such a liar. She made up stuff to get me to talk to her, then tried to get me in trouble. She was just deceiving, to me, the staff, even the Family, and it irked me. I prefer it blunt.”
“Yeah. Honest and upfront.”
She nodded. “Yes. Anyway, she’s gone too.”
“What happened to her?” If she lied to Declan, I could just imagine how badly that ended for her.
“She killed herself.”
My jaw dropped. I stared at this assistant cook for a minute, trying to let that sink into my head. I wasn’t Declan’s first wife, nor his second take. I was the third, and the first two didn’t end well.
At this rate, I should be counting on my demise any day now.
Riley wasn’t done gossiping. “I think that’s why Donal—Dec and Ian’s dad—was so afraid Dec wouldn’t find a woman to keep around long enough to give him an heir.”
I shot her an incredulous look that implied, you think so?
“And Dec’s not… an easy man to get along with. Lots of women are scared. He’s so used to fighting and being gruff and just an asshole.” She smirked, at ease to talk crap about him. “So it wasn’t like he could walk out there and get a wife easily.”
I was well aware. I had to be given an ultimatum to consider it. But that was what he got. Karma and all. Riley was correct in calling him an asshole, and what woman would want him?
“And I think that’s why Declan is so eager to keep you here.”
I raised my brows and stared at her dully. “To the point of making me a prisoner in this castle?”
“I think it’s a little extreme. I mean, like you said, if you were to walk around the garden or something, it’s not like you could get away. Everything is guarded and watched.” She narrowed her eyes and winced. “Have you considered asking him if you can walk on the grounds?”
I barked a laugh. “No. And I don’t intend to ask him for anything at all. I don’t want him to hold anything over me.” I was all too aware of how little power I had, and I didn’t plan to give him any more of an excuse to wield more leverage against me in any other way.
“Riley!” The head cook came in and shouted. She slapped her hand together in a viscous clap, like she was calling back a dog from a threat.
Riley rolled her eyes at me. Before she turned, she whispered, “Nice talking. We’ll find another time to gossip.” She winked, and the silly expression warmed my shrinking heart.
I left the kitchen, not wanting to get the young cook in trouble for speaking with me. Back in my own company, I fell into a pit of anger and frustration.
I saw and felt firsthand how much of a brutish asshole Declan was. And it pissed me off to no end that Keira had wanted me to be a bride to this unwanted monster in place of Saoirse having to deal with him.
I was a goddamn sacrificial lamb.
Standing in my room, staring out the huge windows at the clear but gloomy skies over the vast land, I fumed and let my mood sink further and further.
But it’s for a good cause. I fought to remember that. I was doing this for Mom. For a better, more secure future.
When Declan arrived, I didn’t bother to turn. He’d returned with no warning.
“Cara.”
I narrowed my eyes at the windows, not wanting to face him.
The last time he said my name like that, all deep and full of hunger, I was a fool to think I wanted him. My body desired him, but that was the extent of it.
I refused to let him get to me in any other way. Women, as I now knew from Riley’s gossip, were dispensable to him. From the first day, he’d made it clear that he didn’t care about me. That I was his wife. I was just a body to fuck, a woman he assumed he could impregnate.
“Cara?”
He walked further into the room. His footsteps sounded ominous on the polished wood, but they stopped when I whirled around to face him.
The sooner I got this over with, another round of sex, the faster I could show him that I wasn’t pregnant. And he could leave again.
“Yeah, yeah,” I drawled, unbuttoning my shirt.
He frowned, watching me.
I kept my voice dull. Bored. Indifferent, because I had to be. “May as well get it over with,” I mused wryly, shoving my shirt open more and unbuttoning my jeans next.
“What?” He stalked closer, regarding me with a skeptical glare.
“What do you mean, what ?” I snapped.
“What are you doing?”
I rolled my eyes, unzipping. “Getting undressed. Doing my duty.”
“ Get it over with ?” he challenged in a growl.
I nodded. “Obviously.” Damn, he looked different. Tired, but not worn. That stubble growing in on his jaw made him look more rugged, but the new scrape on his cheekbone threatened to make me feel sympathetic somehow.
“No.” He locked his face down, showing me a stoic mask as he gripped my shirt and yanked it back over me.
I opened and closed my mouth. What? He didn’t want to fuck me now? After all those times he’d reiterated what my purpose was?
I warred between rage that he was rejecting me and disappointment that he wouldn’t want me. With his knuckles brushing against my breasts and touching my skin, I felt that now-familiar ache of desire for him.
Ashamed and annoyed that I might lust after his body while he could reject mine, I stared at him and waited to know why he was changing things up now.
“No?” I sassed back.
Finished with buttoning my shirt, still not meeting my gaze and chill as ever, he zipped my jeans and rebuttoned them, too.
“No,” he said, finally lifting his dark brown gaze to me.
Then he confused me even more, taking my hand and leading me out of the room.