Eileen grinned. "Yeah. I need ya to go get your laciest bra."
Fifteen minutes later, when my hair and makeup were done and my shirt was as buttoned up as a shirt three sizes too small would get, I looked at myself in the mirror. "I look like a prostitute."
Eileen came up behind me, tilting her head slightly, sizing me up before she gave me a pleased smile. "Aye. A high-class prostitute," she qualified. "One who dates married politicians."
My startled eyes met hers in the mirror, and I burst out laughing, thinking she was just what I had needed. I had needed a friend. And Eileen Ramsay had shown up. Life was full of surprises, and this was one I would never have expected.
CHAPTER TEN
Brogan
I rubbed my jaw as I surveyed my party. My stupid fucking party that had gone to hell in a hand basket. I'd set it up to go down just the way it had, so why did I feel like the devil himself? Watching Lydia run away from the group of bitches I'd invited purposefully to torment her hadn't offered the least bit of satisfaction. On the contrary, it had filled me with anger and made me want to protect her from the situation I had put her in. I'd thought about chasing after her, but I was probably the last person she wanted to see right now. I'd let her lick her wounds in her room and go to her after the party.
Despite all my internal justification, I knew I was acting unreasonably when it came to Lydia. I fucking knew it, I just couldn't figure out why. Or maybe I just didn't want to. "Fucking feck," I muttered, clenching my jaw harder when I saw Fionn and Eileen heading toward me.
"Where's Tiffani with an i?" Eileen asked, taking a sip from the champagne glass in her hand. For a second I had absolutely no idea who she was referring to. Ah, my date. Right.
"Mingling I guess," I said. She might have left for all I knew.
Fionn turned to Eileen. "She got tired of him ignorin' her and not movin' his eyes from that poor servant girl. What was her name again? Ah, Lydia. Poor, trampled Lydia. I hear she deserved it, though. So why then, I must ask," Fionn questioned, putting his finger on his chin as if in thought, "does my dear friend and your dear brother look so miserable about it?" He shot me a taunting smile.
"Fionn . . ." I said, a warning in my tone. Fionn simply laughed.
"It's true. Ya don't look like you're enjoyin' your victory, brother dearest," Eileen said, giving me an innocent smile. I scowled at her.
"I think Brogan has found himself in a be careful what ya wish for scenario," Fionn mock whispered, leaning close to Eileen as if I couldn't hear him. "Either that or he has a brutal case of indigestion. Sour stomach? What else is it referred to? Ah," he held up a finger, "heartburn."
"I'd have to agree, my perceptive friend," Eileen said, letting out a dramatic sigh.
"What I want to know is why exactly this is so damned funny to you two?" I asked through my clenched jaw.
Eileen took another sip of champagne, glancing around as if looking for something specific. Technically, she shouldn't be drinking any alcohol at all since she wasn't twenty-one, but it was a private party, I'd let it slide. "Your misery is of your own makin' this time, Brogan. In exactin' your revenge against the De Havilland family, you've turned yourself into exactly what ya claim to despise. These are ya friends now?"
"All of a sudden you're on her side?" I asked, knowing I sounded like a petulant child and hating myself just a little bit more. Of course the people here weren't my friends.
"I'm on your side. Always. Which is why I'm against this. It's beneath ya. I disliked her for hurtin' ya. Slappin' her yesterday felt mighty good. But I didn't want to ruin her life for it, or watch her suffer the same treatment we once endured by that group of purposeless bitches." She nodded over to Lydia's old high school friends who were still laughing and twittering, most likely reliving every moment of bossing Lydia around like she was their own personal Cinderella.
I looked at Eileen, my guts twisting. "You slapped her yesterday?"
She nodded, and I clenched my eyes shut for a moment. "Well, yeah. She took it like a champ, just like she's doin' today. I have a feelin' she believes she deserves this. Which is part of why she's takin' it. But the girl has some pride, too. Damned if I don't respect her for it."
I didn't even bother to look at Eileen. I knew she was right. I opened my mouth to respond when the door to the house opened, and a girl with a tray walked outside. I almost choked when the tray was lowered. Lydia. Oh shite. She had obviously cleaned up her face and had redone her makeup. The sun was shining on her pale hair, and she looked bright and shiny and so beautiful I hardly wanted to look at her. But when my eyes lowered, a low snarl came out of my throat of its own free will, my muscles clenching tightly. The white button-down shirt was way too small, the buttons barely closing over her full breasts, the lace of her bra clearly visible through the stretched material, even from where I was standing. The top four buttons weren't even closed at all, giving an easy view of full, creamy cleavage. For a moment my vision dimmed the way it sometimes did when I was being overly stimulated in some myriad of ways.
"Did he just growl?" Eileen asked Fionn. My eyes remained on Lydia. This was ridiculous. Why in the hell was she back out here? Hadn't she had enough? And why the ever-loving feck was she dressed that way?
"I think he did," Fionn remarked from somewhere seemingly far away. "How very primitive, like. Or it's the heartburn again. Ya wanna hear me theory?"