“I gave you two weeks’ notice. I thought that would be enough to train my replacement.”
“And you did train her. Very well, I might add. She’s become a valuable employee.” He cleared his throat. “I have your personnel file. If anything becomes available, I’ll be certain to contact you.”
“You have nothing now?”
“Nothing. As you well know, these are hard times in the banking industry.”
Numb, Aidan heard the phone disconnect while she was muttering, “Thank you, Mr. Saunders. And have a nice day.”
Then, because she’d pinned all her hopes on this call, she burst into tears. Once unlocked, the tears she’d been holding at bay for days, for weeks, ran unchecked down her cheeks, soaking the front of her shirt.
She hadn’t realized how desperately she’d needed that job. Now that it was being denied her, she couldn’t seem to think beyond it. What would she do? What could she do?
Without a quick infusion of cash, she would lose her family home and would find herself out on the street.
Seeing the papers left by the lawyer, she picked up his card and, without giving a thought to the consequences, dialed the number. When she heard his voice, she spoke quickly, so she wouldn’t lose her nerve.
“Mr. Barlow? Aidan O’Mara. When can you book that flight to Ireland?”
“Had a bit of a nap, did you?” The young lad’s voice had her looking up to see him watching her in the rearview mirror. “We’re passing through Glinkilly.” A note of pride crept into his tone. “Our wee town was built near the site of an ancient abbey, which dates to the twelfth century.”
“Such a pretty town.” And it was, with its tidy houses and clean streets. The shop windows were bright with goods, and the people walking about looked friendly and prosperous.
“You’ll soon have your first glimpse of Glin Lodge.”
They left the town behind and started along a lovely country road, wide enough for only one vehicle at a time. On either side of the car were hedgerows of deep pink flowers so thick Aidan couldn’t see beyond them.
The hedgerows gave way to a meandering stone wall with an occasional door painted bright red or sky blue or sunny yellow. She wondered where the doors led, but the wall was too high to see over.
The car was climbing, climbing, as though scaling a mountain. When they reached the top of a hill and turned onto a wide, curving ribbon of road, she saw acres of perfectly sculpted grounds. Ancient flowering trees with branches that swept the grass before lifting high in the air. Fountains set among lovely rose gardens, with stone benches set about to enjoy the view. Sheep dotted a distant hillside, adding to the pastoral setting.
They rounded a curve and Aidan’s jaw dropped at the sight of the stone mansion glinting in the late-afternoon sunlight.
“There’s Glin Lodge, miss.”
“This is where Mr. Glin lives?”
“Aye. Indeed.” He shot her a glance in the mirror and smiled at the look on her face.
The word lodge had planted an image in her mind far removed from this. She’d been expecting a rustic house, with a few barns and outbuildings. It had never occurred to Aidan that Cullen Glin lived in such luxury. The lodge was actually a mansion. The kind of place she’d seen only in books.
They drove past a reflecting pond where a pair of black swans circled, leaving barely a ripple in their wake.
As they pulled into the circular drive and came to a halt at the foot of high stone steps, a pair of massive Irish wolfhounds came bounding up, setting off a chorus of barking.
The lad circled the car and opened the passenger door. When Aidan hesitated, he gave her a wide smile. “They’re big and noisy, but they won’t bite.”
He helped her from the car. Before he could admonish the dogs, a man on horseback came up behind them.
As he dismounted, the man’s deep voice called, “Meath. Mayo.”
The two dogs sat, tails swishing, tongues lolling. Aidan would have sworn they were grinning.
She turned for a better look at the man.
He wore a charcoal jacket and denims tucked into tall leather boots. His dark hair was wind-tossed, his eyes deep blue and piercing as they boldly studied her. Though not handsome in the classic sense, his rugged good looks and casual elegance gave him a commanding presence. He looked like the hero in every classic novel she’d ever read. The sight of him took her breath away.
He spoke first to the driver. “Sean, you can take the lady’s luggage inside. Mrs. Murphy will tell you where to put it.”
As the lad hurried away, the stranger turned to Aidan. “You’d be Miss O’Mara.”
“Aidan O’Mara. And you are?”
“Ross Delaney, Mr. Glin’s solicitor.” He gave her an appraising look. “Your pictures didn’t do you justice.”
“Pictures?”
“As you can imagine, Mr. Glin was more than a little curious to see what you looked like. He won’t be disappointed.” He glanced toward an upper window. “I’m sure by now he’s heard the commotion and will be itching to meet you. Come.” With his hand beneath her elbow, he walked beside her up the stone steps.
Aidan became aware of a tingle of warmth where their bodies connected. She shot him a sideways glance, and saw only a stern, handsome profile that seemed chiseled in stone.
The double doors were opened by an old woman who wore a spotless apron over a black dress that fell to her ankles. White hair had been pulled back in a severe bun at her nape. Little tendrils had slipped free to curl damply around her plump cheeks. The woman seemed distracted and slightly out of breath, as though she’d just run a marathon, but when she smiled, her entire face sparkled like sunshine.
“Bridget, this is Miss O’Mara, Mr. Glin’s… guest.”
Aidan shot him a glance. Was it her imagination, or had he stumbled over what term he should use to describe her?
There was no time to mull as he continued. “Here at Glin Lodge, Bridget Murphy is the housekeeper and all-around miracle worker. If you need anything, just ask Bridget.”
“Aw, go on with you now.” The old woman was positively glowing at his praise.
And why not? Charm that smooth had probably been learned at his mother’s knee. No doubt he used it on women of all ages.
Aidan offered a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Bridget.”
“As you can imagine, we’ve all been eager to welcome you, too, miss.” The woman took a breath before turning with a brisk nod. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms.”
Ross Delaney remained at the door, watching her with more than casual interest.
As Aidan walked away and began to follow Bridget up the stairs, she could feel that cool blue stare following her. It gave her a tingle of awareness. Like the hounds, Meath and Mayo, she felt like wriggling all over with delight and was already scolding herself for such foolishness.
Two
After climbing to the second floor, Bridget opened a set of double doors and stepped aside. “These will be your rooms, Miss O’Mara.”
Aidan caught her breath at the luxurious setting. She was standing in a parlor that was bigger than her parents’ entire house. The floor was an expanse of white- and gold-veined marble, softened by a rug in tones of white and gold and pale green. In one corner was a grand piano. A fire burned on the hearth, with a fireplace surround of the same marble, flanked by two gold chairs and a white sofa. Tossed over two footstools were throws embroidered with a gold crest bearing an eagle and an intertwined monogram with the letters C and M.
She crossed to the bedroom, which was as elegant as the parlor, with a king-sized bed covered in a white comforter bearing the same crest.
A teenaged girl dressed in faded denims and a T-shirt was busy hanging Aidan’s clothes in a closet. She turned as Aidan and Bridget entered.