31
KEELYNN
“We don’t need men,”Aveen announced from the sofa, her shoulders thrown back and spine stiff, a warrior prepared for battle. All she needed was some armor.
I nodded in agreement. “You’re right.” What good were they, anyway? Always causing problems. We would be far better off on our own. “We don’t need men, we need cake.” I wanted to say wine, but alcohol had caused this mess. It felt important that I remained in solidarity with my estranged fiancé while he struggled with his addiction. I’d even gone so far as having water with my dinner each night. Not nearly as satisfying, but at least it didn’t give me a headache in the mornings.
Aveen clapped her hands beneath her chin. “Oh, yes. Cake is exactly what we need.”
There was only one problem. “Do you know how to bake a cake?”
“Yes.” Her mouth tugged down at the corners. “Sort of. I’ve baked one with Eava before, and I think I remember.”
“I want to bake with Eava.” I’d always heard the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. For Tadhg, that meant anything and everything with loads and loads of sugar. He’d be so impressed if I brought him a blackberry pie made entirely by me.
It had only been two days since I left and already I missed him so bloody much.
Aveen gave my knees a squeeze. “When you get back to the castle, you will.”
Assuming I made it back to the castle. If only I had her optimism.
My sister stood and caught both of my hands, hoisting me to my feet. “Come on. Let’s bake our blues away.”
Ruairi’s kitchen was surprisingly well stocked for a bachelor living on his own. Not that I had much to compare it to considering I’d gone down to the kitchen in our father’s estate exactly once, never went in to the townhouse kitchens, and visited Eava only a handful of times.
Aveen opened cupboard after cupboard, dragging out ingredients and setting them on the butcher block counter. Flour, eggs, sugar, butter, salt, milk, something called yeast powder…
The man even had a vial of vanilla that smelled good enough to drink.
Aveen went in search of a mixing bowl, leaving me with the cannisters. “How much of each?”
“Three cups of flour, I remember that much,” she threw over her shoulder from where she balanced atop a tiny footstool. “And four eggs.”
“Let me do the eggs.” I plucked one from the basket and turned it over in my hand before adding it to the bowl.
Aveen’s laughter echoed through the kitchen. “You need to crack it first.”
Warmth spread down my cheeks and throat. “I knew that.” I hadn’t. How did one crack an egg? When I ate poached eggs, I typically used a spoon. I banged the hard shell against the wooden counter, and the orange yolk spilled everywhere, covering my hands and the counter in slime.
“Not like that,” Aveen chuckled. “Like this.” She collected another egg and tapped it against the edge of the bowl. A small crack appeared, and when she broke the thing down the middle, the innards spilled out on top of the dry ingredients she’d already added to the bowl.
When I tried, bits of shell fell in as well. Why was this so bloody difficult?
The other two she cracked with ease. “It takes practice,” she assured me.
I didn’t want to be helpless if I ended up on my own. I wanted to be self-sufficient, like Aveen. She’d told me all about her adorable cottage on the coast. Perhaps we could live there together if I never made it back to the castle. I grabbed a tea towel from beneath the sink to clean my hands. “Do you think Eava would teach me to cook even if Tadhg and I don’t end up together?”
Aveen glanced sidelong at me before handing over a wooden spoon. “Is that the way you’re leaning?”
I mixed slowly to keep from slopping milk and eggs all over my dress. “I love Tadhg, but I cannot be with him if he does not have a tight leash on his demons.” I understood his struggle. Look at what had happened after Aveen’s engagement to Robert had been announced and she’d been cursed. I’d numbed my own pain with drink then as well. But it wasn’t just the two of us anymore. We both had to be stronger than we were before.
“That’s fair enough.”
Was it, though? Tadhg been leaning on alcohol for far longer than me. How much change could I really expect from him? Would he be angry at me for abandoning him in his time of need?
I handed Aveen the bowl of batter. She scraped the edges and bottom with her spoon, releasing the pockets of flour that had been stuck.
With my hands braced against the edge of the counter, I stared out the window into the fading day. If I turned my head just so, I could see my reflection staring back. Darkness spread beneath my eyes like bruises. My hair looked a fright, all tangled and matted. Who did I have to impress? No one. “Love can be such a burden sometimes.” There was something to be said for remaining unattached. Spinsters never had to worry about anyone but themselves.