Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“M am, this is important. Why would Mary, of all people, say something like that if there wasn’t some reason for it?”
Rory pushed her knuckles into her forehead, and prayed for the headache to ease.
The headache that had set in last night, as soon as Seamus had seen her, then ramped up when Aidan had revealed his true colours.
Yes, she might not have been her best self last night, and had a feeling she might owe Aidan an apology for acting like a grump on the drive back to the hotel.
But so much of what had been said was shocking.
She’d been all set to demand answers from her mother, but she’d been asleep, so Rory had needed to wait until now to ask those questions that had pecked at her all night.
And now, with Aisling here as well, there was the chance to throw a grenade into the relatively calm pool of their existence and see a small tsunami of uncomfortable truth rush out and overwhelm them.
“I can’t believe we encouraged him to stay here for more nights on that deal,” Aisling moaned.
“That was all you, remember?” Rory pointed out.
“Don’t remind me. But I only did it because you seemed so sweet on him.”
“Please.” Rory rolled her eyes. “He’s the last man I would ever trust again.
” Even if it had been a little bit nice to see his protectiveness last night.
Not that she needed it. She was well and truly able to take care of herself, even if that uneasy relationship with Seamus had always made things a little awkward with Mary.
She had previously told Mary that Seamus had tried to speak to her, and that it made her feel uncomfortable.
Mary had only laughed it off saying he was a little slow, and not to take it too much to heart.
Which had been disconcerting, but Seamus hadn’t tried much since.
Last night had been the first time he’d tried to touch her in over a year.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Mam said now. “Rory, what happened last night that has got you so riled up?”
Rory pushed past the headache and repeated things as best she could, which earned twin frowns from her mother and sister. “But of course that’s not right,” Mam protested. “This land has been part of the Griffin family’s estate for hundreds of years.”
“And there would be title deeds or land maps that show that, right?” Aisling huffed. “I can’t believe the nerve of that man, staying here then stabbing us in the back like that. And when he acted so nice too!”
Exactly. “I think we need to focus on the main issue here which is finding the deeds. Who is our solicitor, Mam? Do you remember?”
Her mother’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m afraid I’ve let Colin handle most of that kind of thing.”
“Okay, then we’ll need to talk with him.”
“Oh, but he’s so busy with the acquisition of the Cornwall hotel.
” The latest in the Killorglin Group’s ventures.
Their father had started the business, and on his death several years ago the mantle had fallen to Colin, much to the disgust of Fiona, their eldest sibling, who believed she should be the rightful heir to head up the Killorglin Group.
“But if we don’t stamp this out quickly then who knows what people will say,” Rory argued. “There were others there who seemed equally shocked, and we all know that Niamh and James can’t be trusted to keep their mouths shut. Not when juicy gossip is there for the telling.”
“Oh, I really don’t want the family name dragged through any more mud,” Mam complained.
Aisling was busy tapping on her phone, then she set it on the table and pressed speaker. “I’m calling him.”
“Oh, but are you really sure?” Mam worried aloud. “I’d hate for him to be disturbed.”
“Well, considering all of us are disturbed, I think it’s only fair to share the concern,” Aisling said, straightening as a deeper voice said, “Hello?”
“Good morning to you, best brother of mine,” Aisling chirped.
“Ash, I have an important meeting starting in twenty—”
“Who is our solicitor?” Rory interrupted.
“Rory? What are you doing there?”
“I live here, brother dear, in case you’ve forgotten. And Mam is here too.”
“Hi Mam.”
“Hello, Son,” Mam said.
“And I need you to tell us who our solicitor is,” Rory continued.
“Why? Is Ash in trouble again?”
She ignored Aisling’s rolled eyes. “No, but we might all be. There’s someone questioning about whether the Griffin family or the Quinns own the old castle, and we need to see title deeds and boundary maps and all that kind of thing.”
“Are you serious? Who’s pulling your leg like that? You know it’s on our land.”
“Yes, we know that, but we may need to prove it. There’s an Australian guest here who is a lawyer who is looking into it—”
“Oh, an Australian,” he scoffed.
“And Mary Connolly seems to think he may be right,” she insisted.
“But he can’t be. No. That’s nonsense. I can’t believe Mary would think something like that.”
“So all we need to do is prove it and this all goes away. So who is our solicitor?”
“It’s Patrick Fuller from Kenmare.”
“Thank you.” Finally they had a lead to go on. “We’ll let you go. Hope your meeting goes well.”
“I do too.”
“Say hello to Kara for us, the next time you’re talking to her.”
“Oh, you can be sure I will. I’m heading to Suffolk again after this trip.”
“Weren’t you there last week?”
“Ah, but what’s a man to do when he’s in love? You can’t honestly expect a good boyfriend to stay away from his girl when it’s in his power to be near?”
Rory exchanged smiles with Mam and Aisling, and they soon ended the call.
“He doesn’t sound too worried,” Rory said.
“That’s because he knows like the rest of us that any other challengers don’t have a leg to stand on,” Aisling said confidently. “You’ll see.”
The tightness in her chest eased, and the headache thump dropped to manageable.
Her sister was right. Say what they might, Aidan and Mary were mistaken. And the old castle was theirs. Not anyone else’s.
By the time she arrived at the bookshop, five minutes early for once, she was feeling far more assured. Until she recognised the dark head of a tall man standing talking with Mary.
Her steps slowed. She hadn’t seen him at the hotel this morning.
Admittedly, she’d gone out of her way to not see him nor be seen by him, unable to escape that sense of resentment that someone had taken advantage of them while proving most Trojan horse-like in his schemes.
That, along with a small sense of shame at how she’d treated him, was bound to make any interactions a little awkward.
Heaven knew it would be awkward enough with Mary, whom she’d known all her life.
But she really didn’t need to have the two of them ganging up on her. Especially this morning.
Still, the thought that she could call Patrick as soon as his office opened fuelled hope that all this silly nonsense could soon be laid to rest. And it had to be silly nonsense. Her family’s good name depended on it.
She braced, pushed open the door, and pasted a smile on her face. “Morning.”
“Ah, you’re here,” Mary said.
“Indeed I am.” She forced herself to meet Aidan’s gaze. She’d feel less like a child if she acted like an adult and pretended nothing was wrong. “Good morning.”
Aidan smiled. “I hope your headache is better this morning.”
“It is, thanks.” She dragged her gaze away from where his blue eyes threatened to hold her prisoner—and quite possibly spill the truth about what she’d been doing. “So, what would you like me to begin with today, Mary?”
A pleat formed between Mary’s eyebrows. “You can begin by telling me what’s going on with my son.”
“I beg your pardon?” She glanced at Aidan. “What did you say?”
“Hey, I just mentioned that a man tried to grab you last night, that’s all.”
Heat strummed her chest. “I’ll thank you to mind your own business. I don’t need you to gossip about such things.”
He looked chagrined. “I was concerned, and when it didn’t seem like you were going to say anything—”
“How do you know whether I was going to say anything? That’s very presumptuous of you.”
“Rory—”
“No. I don’t want to hear your excuses. Why can’t you just leave things alone?”
He studied her, lips pressed together, as if recognising her words were about more than just Seamus Connolly. Then he inclined his head, glanced at Mary. “I’ll speak to you later.”
As soon as he exited, Mary frowned, hands on hips. “I don’t know why you’re taking up against him. He was just trying to help.”
“Help?” she scoffed.
“Rory,” Mary’s expression softened. “Why didn’t you tell me that Seamus was bothering you again? I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” she mumbled.
“You haven’t said anything because you’re worried about your job? That’s what Aidan said might be the case.”
Aidan, putting his foot in it again! Her hands clenched.
“No, that’s not the reason. I just didn’t want to add to your pressure.
Besides, I can handle myself.” She really hoped Aidan hadn’t thought to tell Mary exactly how Rory had handled herself last night.
She could bet her left arm that Seamus wouldn’t have shared that.
“I know he’s been a nuisance in the past but I can speak to him.”
“I’d be grateful for that.”
Mary considered her. “You will tell me if it happens again? I appreciate you not reporting him to the gardai, but if that’s the only way he’ll learn, then perhaps it’s best he gets a warning from them.”
“I think Seamus will want to keep his distance.” And she hoped Aidan would learn to do the same.
Mary sighed, apologised again, then instructed Rory in today’s tasks, which soon busied her hands even if it didn’t fully distract her mind from the man whose scent still allured even despite his obnoxious ways.
Aidan Quinn. The man who had an uncanny knack for turning her life upside down.
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