“Before we begin dinner, I’d like to offer a toast, my dear. To you, for humoring an old man.” He touched his glass to hers, and then to Ross’. “And, as always, to those we’ve loved and lost.”
Aidan was caught off guard by the depth of pain she could hear in his words, and the sudden flicker of it in his eyes.
Her own loss was still too fresh, too deep. She thought of her mother, and how she would have enjoyed this.
To hide her pain, she sipped and looked away. When she looked up, he was watching her closely.
“I was devastated to learn that you’d only just buried your mother, and that you were her sole caregiver during her illness.”
She nodded, unable to speak over the sudden lump that clogged her throat.
“Thank heaven she had you. There’s nothing like family to see us through the hard times.” He glanced over at Ross, who was studying Aidan through narrowed eyes. “Those of us not blessed with blood kin create our own families. Take Ross. He’s as precious to me as any son.”
“Then you’re lucky to have him.” Unable to turn away from that icy stare, Aidan shot Ross a challenging look.
Reading her irritation, his lips quirked in a hint of a smile, further annoying her.
“Sit here by the fire and enjoy your drink, my dear.” Cullen indicated a comfortable chaise and waited until she was seated, before choosing a chair beside her.
Ross walked to the hearth to poke at the fire before turning to face them. His hand rested along the mantel, drawing Aidan’s attention to the exquisite detail of the sculpted white marble.
“That fireplace is stunning, Mr. Glin.”
“Please, call me Cullen.”
She sipped her champagne. “Has your family lived here for generations?”
That brought a laugh from both Cullen and Ross.
Seeing her arched brow, the old man explained. “In my youth, I was considered an outsider, despite my name, because I grew up in the poorest section of town. There are hundreds of Glins in Glinkilly. In those days Glin Lodge lay in ruins, as did most of the town and the ancient Glin Abbey. If you look out your bedroom windows, beyond the gardens, you’ll see the ruins of the abbey, which was originally built in the fifteenth century. If I live long enough, I hope to restore it as I restored this place.”
“You did all this by yourself?”
He smiled. “I’d love to take all the credit, but it took hundreds of tradesmen hundreds of hours to turn this into the place you now see. All I did was hire good people.”
“Not to mention spending a considerable fortune,” Ross added.
“Money well spent. I was happy to add to the town’s economy, since I make it a rule to hire as many local workmen as possible. Now the people of Glinkilly can take pride in what they accomplish, while enjoying the wages they earn.”
“What spurred you to do all this?”
He ducked his head and sipped his champagne in silence. When he looked up, his smile was back. “Ross made me realize that it was necessary to restore not only my land, but my name, as well. Both had gone to ruin, and it shamed me.”
He glanced over when Bridget entered, followed by Charity, pushing a serving cart. “Ah, here’s our dinner now.”
Instead of the large table in the center of the room, Cullen led her to a small, round table in one corner, set with snowy linens and fine silver and crystal.
The old man held her chair. “I thought this would be cozier.”
“It’s perfect.” She smiled at Charity as the girl paused beside her, offering a tray of tender roast beef slices and an array of vegetables. She helped herself, and waited as Cullen and Ross did the same.
Bridget placed a silver basket of soda bread in the middle of the table, along with a platter of various cheeses.
“I hope you’ll try the cheese.” Cullen placed several wedges on his plate. “They’re all made by the farmers here in Glinkilly.”
She tasted first one, then another, before nodding. “Wonderful. They must be very proud.”
“And well they should be. Since we’ve made them available throughout the country, they’ve become one of the most popular dairy products in Ireland.”
“Do I see your hand in this, as well?”
“It was Ross who recognized a highly marketable commodity and suggested we try packaging them on a small scale first, to test the waters. Once the consumers began buying in quantity, I knew we had a winner. The rest was up to our local farmers, who’ve proven to be more than up to the task.”
“Do you own the company that markets the cheese?”
He gave a firm shake of his head. “I suggested the farmers form a cooperative. With some seed money from me, they took over completely. They raise the dairy cows, make the cheese, market it under their own brand, and all members share in the profits.”
“No wonder the town looked so prosperous.”
He smiled. “A high compliment indeed. Some years ago you’d have thought Glinkilly the poorest of places in all of Ireland.”
“And now, thanks to you, it prospers.”
His tone lowered. “May it continue, through good times and bad.” He brightened. “How is your dinner?”
Aidan laughed. “What little I’ve tasted is excellent. I’m afraid I got too caught up in your narrative to do it justice.”
“You’d best eat or Kathleen, who oversees our kitchen, will think she made a dreadful choice, and probably have Bridget’s and Charity’s heads in the bargain.”
“We can’t have that.” Aidan took another bite of beef that nearly melted in her mouth.
By the time they’d finished their meal, Bridget and Charity were back, this time with coffee and a tray of assorted cherry and blueberry tarts.
Cullen polished off one of each before sitting back with a sigh. “The perfect ending to a perfect meal. Bridget, be sure to give my compliments to Kathleen.”
She smiled and took her leave, shooing Charity ahead of her.
Across the table, Ross refused dessert and sipped his coffee. It occurred to Aidan that he’d volunteered nothing during the course of their meal. Maybe he was on a mission to see that she didn’t offend her host. Or maybe, she thought, he found her company too dull to bother with something as inane as small talk.
Still, despite his silence, she’d been acutely aware of him watching, listening, studying her like a specimen to be dissected. It gave her an uneasy feeling. If Cullen Glin was warmer than she’d expected, his legal counsel was behaving like a bodyguard keeping an eye on a trained assassin.
He needn’t worry that she would try to worm her way into this very wealthy man’s life by some pretense or other. She had every intention of informing Cullen of his error in bringing her here. But not tonight, she decided suddenly. Tonight, seeing the eagerness in the old man’s eyes, hearing it in his voice, she would let him have his fantasy for a little while longer.
She sipped her coffee, warmed by the fine food and the fire on the hearth, and the pure pleasure of her host’s charming personality.
Just for tonight she would pretend that she was merely a guest in this lovely mansion, invited to partake of all the pleasures such a place could provide.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with the unpleasant realities of her situation. Tomorrow she would firmly, without leaving any room for doubt, let Cullen Glin know that she was who she had always believed she was, the daughter of John and Claire O’Mara, and the granddaughter of Maureen and Edward Martin.
Cullin Glin would have to search elsewhere for his long-lost kin.
“Come,” the old man said, suddenly getting to his feet. “Now that we’ve been fortified by Kathleen’s fine food, it’s time you had a tour of my humble abode.”
“And this was once the library. It’s now my office.”