Whiskey Rebellion Read online

  Lady O’Callaghan found out she’s been off gallivanting with multiple men! Locked her up!

  Such trash she’s become.

  She brought home all the STDs, and now they are treating her so they can marry her off. Ya know they’re hurting for money.

  We don’t see her because she’s getting fat. That babe will be here in no time.

  Who’s the father? Oh, you know darn well it’s her old beau, Micah.

  Rolling my eyes, I take the order of leeks that was waiting for me and head down the next aisle. I have a hard time believing what I’ve heard. I’ve only been here a little over a week, eight days to be exact. But in that time, being on the O’Callaghan land and in the pub, it’s as if I’ve been here longer. Everyone is so welcoming. Everyone also talks all day long. Everywhere I go, be it the stables, the pub, the market downtown, or even the library, it seems as if the only thing these people talk about is the O’Callaghans.

  I get that they’re royalty around here, but don’t these people get sick of talking about the same thing? Especially when most of it is so untrue. I just don’t get it. How do they make it up? And why? I’ve only met two of the O’Callaghans, and when Lena isn’t calling me names, they seem like good people. This town, though, their home, has painted all of them into something resembling bad reality TV.

  “Did ya hear? Missus Amberlyn donated all that money to have the kids go shopping for new clothes.”

  “She’s a godsend, she is,” another lady says, and I smile. This is the first nice thing I’ve heard all day. “Way better than Miss Lena. Did you hear she showed up to tea in her PJs! I can’t believe they let her do that.”

  Shaking my head, I walk past the two ladies and I know they look at me, but I’m kind of done with it. Usually, the rumors are easy to ignore. While I don’t know anything about any of the O’Callaghans, I do somewhat know Lena. Or, I want to feel like I know her. It’s hard because I feel like we have this connection. It’s so raw and new, and man, it needs some life. I’m unsure if it’ll ever happen. She’s obviously standoffish, with good reason. Everyone basically hates her. And for what? Living her life? I’m doing the same fucking thing, and the only person bitching at me is my mom.

  It’s just unfair.

  When I get back to the pub, Fiona is there with Novelly on her hip. Like always. The things that woman does with a baby on her hip make me look bad.

  “Howya, Jackson.”

  “Hey, Fiona. Hey, Novelly,” I say as I walk by, and the sweet girl reaches for me. “One second, let me put this down.”

  Fiona laughs as she follows me. “How’d ya get me lass to love ya?”

  “I feed her candy when you’re not looking.”

  Her eyes widen. “Ya filthy bastard!”

  I laugh as I set the bag down before taking Novelly from her and hugging her to my chest. She’s a cute little thing. As she plays with the hair that is growing on my face, Fiona glances back at me. “How was the market?”

  I shrug. “It was an experience, I guess.”

  She smiled. “That’s why Ma sent ya. She wanted you to see how it was.”

  “It’s huge.”

  “It is, which is why it’s only once a week.”

  I lean back on the prep table, bouncing Novelly on my arm. “Are the O’Callaghans always the hot topic there?”

  She glances back at me with a chuckle. “Ah, they’re the topic anywhere.”

  “Not here or at the estate, though.”

  “Because we know them,” she says simply. “We know the rumors aren’t true, and that the Royal Times is a bunch of shite.”

  “It just seems a little over the top.”

  “Because it is. We’re a small town with this huge castle. We’ve made them a big deal, when really, they only wanted to make whiskey and be rich,” she laughs as she shakes her head. “I’ve never met a man like Declan. He’d die for Amberlyn. His ma and da, they’re good people. They love their children, and they love this community. Then there is Lena,” she says slowly. “I’m not one hundred percent sure what is going on with her, but the lass I’ve seen lately is not the Lena I know. Something has changed, and it’s not fair for me to decide what it is.”

  “Do you believe the rumors?”

  She shakes her head quickly. “Lena isn’t a hoor. She is a good lass. Her ma raised her to be an exact copy of herself. I don’t know, it’s weird.”

  “Do you think it’s the pressure?” I ask, and she thinks that over. “From what I’ve gathered, she didn’t live here for a while.”

  Fiona shakes her head as she hands a strawberry to Novelly. “No, after the trial for the man who shot my cousin, Lena left—”

  “What? Someone shot Amberlyn?”

  “Oh, yeah. This bloke Casey did it. Madman, for sure. After the trial, Lena was happy from what I heard. But then one day, she just vanished. She stopped using her social media, no one could find her, and Declan was worried sick. Something happened, but it’s not what they are saying.”

  “I don’t think so either.”

  Fiona sends me a grin. “Ya got a wee crush on the princess, do ya?”

  I scoff, trying to mask the fact that I absolutely do. “I don’t even know her.”

  “You don’t have to know her to crush on her. I crushed on my Kane for years, and now look at us.”

  I smile. “True love always wins in the story I was told.”

  She holds out a strawberry to me, a grin playing on her lips. “I can’t disagree with ya, but know I wouldn’t even try with Lena.”

  I already knew that, but what is she thinking? “Like I’d have a chance.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Like I said, that lass ain’t in her right mind. She’s as lost as last year’s Easter egg.”

  But was anyone trying to help her find herself?

  Taking the top of the strawberry from Novelly as Fiona hands her another, I glance back at the portrait hanging on the wall. It always amazed me how every time I looked at it, I got breathless. I can’t help but be in awe of her. As I stare into her eyes, drink in her milky-white skin, I wonder how no one notices she is hurting?

  Am I the only one?

  Yes, she’s lost, but something has hurt that girl.

  Or someone.

  It’s so fucking frustrating, and it bothers me how upset I get.

  Especially when I’m pretty sure she doesn’t give two fucks about me.

  I may have overreacted.

  Okay, there is no may about it, I flipped the fuck out.

  I’ve been watching him for the last week. He must have gotten his clearance because he has been all over the grounds. From my room, I can see him in the stables and along the lake. When he rode Belle farther out, I wanted to follow, but I knew I couldn’t.

  I was a wee of a bitch to him.

  Jackson had had every right to ask me what he did. We were wild. We were reckless, and I would have asked the same thing if someone had tried to go bareback inside of me without discussing it first. I should have told him I was good, that he was good. But instead, I got lost in the moment, and when he asked, I just… I don’t know. Lost it, I guess. I’m so embarrassed. I’ve never had to be embarrassed by my actions before. But then London happened, and the blogs are running shite about me left and right, and I just felt Jackson was different. I didn’t think he’d believe that shite. But here I am. A total feckin’ mess.

  From my seat in my mother’s sitting room, I can see him, riding Belle through the field. I’ve spent the whole week going back and forth on what I should do. I started toward his tent many times. I even wanted to go to the pub, but I didn’t know how to face him. I didn’t know how to tell him he was right. He should have asked even though I don’t want to think about myself like that. I don’t want to be that girl someone has to ask if they should be worried about.

  But if he’s read the papers or heard the talk that’s all over the place, he’ll think I’m a hoor.

  I cringe as Franco moves his brush through m