I nod. “I ordered it while I was downstairs. Good to see you’ve an appetite, Aisling.”
She nods, but her face is doleful.
“I’ve been awful, Tiernan. I’m so embarrassed.” Her cheeks flush bright pink as if on cue. “I should be ashamed of myself.”
I bring the tray of food in before I respond. “You were quite a mess, I won’t lie.” She laughs tearfully. “But you’re better now, aren’t you?”
She nods. “I suppose.”
I hand her a plate of food, and she gratefully tucks in. Sebastian said her appetite would return when the effects of the drugs wore off.
“I know you’ve got a ways before you’re totally better. But at least this is better than things have been, isn’t it?”
She nods. “I suppose so.”
She eats in silence. I’m glad it seems she’s enjoying her food.
I sit beside her on the bed, chewing a scone thoughtfully. “I know what it’s like, you know,” I tell her. “At least to an extent.”
“Do you?” she tips her head to the side.
“Aye. When we came here, we were from Stone City. You knew that, right?”
It would surprise me if she didn’t know at least part of our history, having been good mates with Fiona.
“Aye,” she says, eying me warily. “I knew that part, of course.”
I nod again. “Do you know anything about what happened to us beforehand?”
She scowls, and she looks a bit abashed. “I’m ashamed to say I’ve forgotten. You see, when you all first came seems like a very long time ago. And I may not… remember everything there is to remember.” She winces. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
My heart goes out to her. Now that she’s sober, she seems like a different person. She isn’t the girl I once knew, and she isn’t the one who came here a few nights ago, but someone altogether different.
I want to know this woman. I want to know everything about her. I want to keep those lines between her brows relaxed, those lips of hers curved up in a smile.
“Stop apologizing,” I say, taking a large bite out of a scone. “Really. No more of that now.”
She sips from her tea and eyes me thoughtfully. “So the bossiness isn’t just the bedroom, then?”
“Ah, no.”
Her pretty eyes twinkle a bit. A strand of hair falls across her face. I want to see her eyes. I reach over and tuck the hair behind her ear, and her eyes gentle.
“For a stern sort, you’ve got a gentleness about you, Tiernan. I… never knew that about you.”
I shrug. “Comes from being the oldest brother, I suppose.” No one’s ever called me gentle before, but I can’t help but want to take care of her.
“I saw you wipe the floor with that bastard in the ring, though,” she says. “You’re a natural fighter, aren’t you?”
I grab a piece of sausage and shove it in my mouth, chewing thoughtfully before I speak.
“So they say,” I finally reply.
“You like fighting?” She’s watching me thoughtfully.
“I do.” I don’t explain why. I’m not sure I could if I tried.
She looks pensive. “I understand.”
“Do you?”
She nods, sipping her tea again. “I bet it makes you feel in control. And… sometimes when you’re… in a situation you couldn’t control… it feels good when you can be.” Her cheeks flush pink. She gives a self-deprecating laugh. “How’s that for armchair psychology?”
I nod. “No, it’s a fair point. I think you’re on to something. But now it’s your turn.”
“Mine?” Her eyes no longer dance, and her grip on the mug tightens.
I tip my head to the side. I want to know everything about her, so we’ll start at the very beginning. “What happened to you? Why did you end up where you did?”
She sighs and looks away. “Do I have to talk about this?”
I think about it before I respond. “Yes, lass. You’ll have to tell me eventually, but it’s alright if you don’t want to tell me now.”
“Not now, Tiernan. Please. I’m still… I’m still fairly raw over everything.”
I glance at my watch, surprised to find I only have five more minutes to get downstairs to the meeting with the brotherhood.
I jump to my feet. “Aye,” I tell her. “Another time. Now, you’ll stay up here while I have a meeting.”
“Can I come?”
I shake my head. “Not this time. I know I’ve been fairly easy with you, Aisling, but remember, lass. You’re still prisoner here.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “Why?”
I stand and give her a stern look. “Isn’t it obvious? Because you witnessed me murder a man, and we won’t have you ruining anything by tattling on us.”
“I won’t say a bloody thing!” she says, getting to her feet.
I take her hand and tug her back to the bed. “You stay here and lower your voice. That very well may be true, but until you’ve proven yourself trustworthy, you’re under my charge.”