Chapter 15 #2
But he’d felt a sense of conviction this morning during the service, something triggered by the words about trusting God, and he knew that now was the time to finally speak what was true, what was right—at least from his family’s point of view—and see if there was a way to finally forge a path forward.
He cleared his throat. “So I want to start by again saying I am sorry that this situation has caused so much angst. It was never my grandmother’s intention, nor mine, to create such a kerfuffle.”
The three women smiled at that word, easing his tension a mite.
“As I mentioned to Rory before, there was a family legend about a castle that the Quinn family were supposed to own.”
“But—”
“Aisling, let him finish,” Maeve murmured.
“So I did some digging back home, then came here and spoke with Mary, as you know, and since then I’ve spoken with a lawyer in Killarney.”
The three women straightened, Aisling’s eyes narrowed. But he didn’t figure this could come as a surprise to anyone.
Rory glanced at her mum and sister then back at him. “We’ve spoken to a lawyer too.”
“Rory—”
“No, Ash. He needs to know. This is no time for secrets.” She glanced back at him. “Go on.”
He inclined his head. This would be the tricky part.
“As I’m sure you’re all aware, this all hinges on the issue of ownership of the castle, and what has been documented in various places seems to differ.
” He glanced apologetically at Maeve. “I know there is a title deed that suggests the Griffin family bought it in 1717, but there is a conflicting letter that suggests it was granted to the Quinns the year before.”
Rory’s breath hitched—had she known about the grant?—as the other women’s mouths fell open.
“What?” Aisling.
“I can’t believe that.” Maeve.
“Have you got proof?” asked Rory, wearing a frown, her arms crossed, all look of kindly understanding far away.
He shifted to face her more fully. “The lawyer in Killarney said she was investigating, and hopes to show me a copy this week.” And depending on what that said, he’d either return to Dublin to be with his university friend, or he’d return here.
Judging from the faces of two of the three women, Dublin was looking a friendlier option.
Maeve studied him, then nodded. “Well, I appreciate you being honest. I know that can’t have been easy.”
“Thank you for saying so,” he murmured. “I’m sorry this is difficult to hear.”
“It’s not that difficult,” Aisling objected. “Not until the supposed grant has been authenticated. And even then I don’t know what you’re supposed to do about it. What if it is proved to be Quinn land? What happens next? It’s not as if you’re able to easily sell things and get any money out of it.”
“That’s something to figure out when we come to it.”
“ If it’s authenticated,” she countered.
“Yes.” He glanced at Maeve again. “I hope you know that I have zero desire to cast aspersions against your family, or mar your family’s reputation in any way.”
She studied him a moment then nodded. “I appreciate that. And I also recognise that you are trying to stand up for your family.”
“Thank you.”
She motioned to the teacup, asked if he wanted a refill, which he declined. Then she asked about his work back in Australia, and he found himself telling them about his years working at his law firm, and some of the pro bono work he did supporting women affected by domestic violence.
“I think that’s a wonderful thing you’re doing.” Maeve’s eyes, so like Rory’s, held encouragement.
He swallowed. “I think it’s important, but my firm has become less supportive over the years, which makes things a little tense at times.” Like when they insisted on culling his pro bono work in favour of paying clients.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Perhaps you could leave,” Aisling said.
“I’ve thought about it, but there are several clients whose cases I’ve been working on who I really don’t want to drop. Not when they’ve been let down by so many others already.”
Rory’s expression held compassion, Maeve’s too. Even Aisling’s features looked soft for once.
“You’re a good man, Aidan,” Maeve said.
He had to blink hard to force away the emotion. How could she say that when he’d caused so much drama for her family?
“There are plenty of law firms in Ireland,” Aisling mused. “You know, just in case you felt like you didn’t want to stay there.”
His heart warmed, gladdened by her words which suggested acceptance of him personally, and approval of his relationship with Rory.
“Thank you. But I’m committed to staying in Australia.
At least while my grandmother is still with us.
She looked after my sister and I when… when our parents were no longer there to do so. ”
“What happened to your parents?” Maeve asked.
So Rory hadn’t told her. Here went nothing, then. He explained, not leaving out the jail sentence for his father, which he knew for many would be a red flag about the son.
But instead of looking worried, her eyes filled with tears, forcing him to blink hard again. Then she rose, and he stood too, wondering what she was going to do. Then she drew close and hugged him.
It had been a while since he’d felt this kind of maternal, nurturing hug. A while since he’d felt grace flow so freely he could almost swim in it. He didn’t deserve this. But he drew it in all the same, closing his eyes and relishing what felt like love.
Then Rory drew close, and joined in, and he slipped an arm around her, bending his face to her hair. And yes, a few tears might have leaked out, but he sensed these women—apart from Aisling—wouldn’t care. This moment was healing, in all kinds of ways.
“Fine, then.” Aisling loudly sighed, then joined in, wrapping her arms around her mum and sister in a group hug that drew laughter and wiped eyes as people eased away. “I guess it’s official. You’re a good guy, after all.” She rolled her eyes.
Now he knew her better he could appreciate her tease. “I’m glad you can see that your sister’s taste is not completely terrible.”
“Not completely, no.”
“Hey!” Rory poked her.
“Aisling, don’t you still have to pack to get to Cork on time?” Maeve murmured.
“Fine. I can take a hint.” She pointed her finger at him. “Just as I hope you can too. You better be good to her.”
He glanced at Rory, whose expression was soft. “Always.”
“And whatever happens with our family and castles and things, I hope you remember that I cut you a pretty awesome deal to stay here, so you should always be grateful to me.”
“I will always be grateful to you,” he deadpanned.
“Okay then.”
He held out his arms. “Come on Ash, bring it in.”
Her nose wrinkled.
“Too soon?”
She chuckled. “Way too soon. You should save that for Rory and Mam.”
“Good idea.” He turned to Rory, and she took up his invitation, and he closed his eyes again.
They might not have all the answers, but it seemed there was longed-for acceptance at last.