Aidan laughed. “Quite the contrary. He was a very stern, disciplined man. But I didn’t know him in his youth. Perhaps in his later years he was forced to overcome an impetuous nature.”
“Or he was persuaded to marry a dishonored young woman who was in need of a husband in order to hide her shame. Knowing Hugh Fitzgibbon’s fury, he would not have been above offering quite a dowry for the right man to take his shameful, headstrong daughter off his hands and spare him and his wife the embarrassment of a grandchild without a father.”
Aidan gave a firm shake of her head. “I simply can’t accept any of this. I know what I know, and that is that Edward Martin was my grandfather, and his wife, Maureen, my grandmother. Their daughter was my mother, whom I loved more than life. I’m not prepared to accept that their entire lives have been a lie.”
“Not a lie, Aidan. The result of difficult circumstances, perhaps. We do what we have to in order to survive. Your grandmother was no different.”
“But to never tell my mother…” She spread her hands. “They were too close. There was plenty of time for honesty before she died. She would have had to tell the truth of her parentage to my mother.”
“Perhaps she did, and your mother chose not to share that with you.” While Aidan was shaking her head in denial he added, “One thing more about your mother. You have yet to say her name.” He leaned forward.
“Her name was Claire.”
“Have I told you my mother’s name?” He paused dramatically before saying, “It was Claire.”
Aidan swallowed. “A coincidence.”
“Perhaps.”
“Or perhaps you’re making this up.”
“I could be. But there are documents to prove what I say. My mother, Claire,” he added emphatically, “loved Moira like a daughter, and grieved along with me when my great love was taken away to America, never to be seen again. Imagine how my dear mother yearned to see her only grandchild. But it was to be denied her. And yet, though Moira was forced to change her name, live a lie and wed another, she still saw to it that her daughter bore the name Claire, in honor of the woman her namesake would never know.”
Aidan pressed her fingers to her temples, where the beginning of a headache had begun to throb. “I’m sorry. This is all so much to take in.”
“I know.” His tone gentled. “I understand everything you’re feeling, for I’ve struggled with every emotion possible. Through the years I’ve been angry, sad, defeated, determined, hopeful and, at times, desperately unhappy. After a lifetime of searching, I finally learned the name of the man Moira had married, and was able to put all the pieces together. I don’t believe I’ve ever been so joyful, so filled with hope. Then, just as my legal team was closing in on the one I sought, I was told that both Moira and the child were dead.” His eyes were hot and fierce. “But you’re alive, Aidan. The daughter of my daughter. Don’t you see? My lifetime search has not been in vain.”
Aidan scrambled to her feet, nearly knocking over her chair in her haste. “I can’t accept this without proof. What you’ve offered me is a sad story, a few coincidences. I need more.”
“Very well.” The old man glanced at Ross for confirmation. “We thought you would need convincing. And for the sake of the courts, we’ll need more. Ross?”
Taking his cue, Ross picked up the conversation. “With your permission, Cullen would like to order a genetic test. It’s simple enough. A technician from our local hospital can be here within an hour to swab both your mouths. Within forty-eight hours a DNA test will offer proof beyond a doubt as to whether or not you two are blood-r elated.”
“Forty-eight hours.” Aidan chewed the inside of her mouth, considering. “I’d hoped to be on a plane later today.”
“Of course,” Ross added, “should the tests prove negative, Cullen will keep his promise to send you home with a first-class air ticket and a generous settlement for your inconvenience.”
Aidan looked at the offer from every angle. She could leave now, and always wonder if Cullen’s Moira had been her grandmother. Or she could postpone her return for another two days, and know without a doubt.
Two more days in this lovely setting, and a generous check for her time spent.
She looked from Cullen to Ross. “I think it’s an excellent idea. And, as you said, it will eliminate any more doubts. You’ll make that call to the hospital now?”
Ross nodded.
“Then, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go to my room.”
Cullen stood. “Ross will walk you upstairs.”
“No.” There were entirely too many emotions bubbling at the surface already. She wasn’t up to dealing with the very different emotions Ross evoked each time he got close to her.
She backed away. “I’m used to taking care of myself. Just let me know when the technician arrives.”
Before Cullen or Ross could react, she walked quickly from the room and hurried up the stairs, eager to mull over all she’d heard.
Five
Aidan paced the length of the room and back, her thoughts in turmoil. It wasn’t so much that her mind refused to accept the story told by Cullen, but rather that he had managed to plant a seed of doubt.
What if his Moira were truly her grandmother Maureen? What if the child she bore hadn’t been Edward Martin’s, but in fact Cullen’s?
“Oh, Mama.” Aidan struggled to hold on to the image she’d carried of her sweet, stoic grandmother, pouring herself into the intricacies of her husband’s business, staving off bankruptcy by the sheer force of her will.
Everyone who had known Maureen Gibbons had been astonished by her strength. Throughout her marriage she had deferred always to Edward. It was he who chose their furniture, each new car, even her wardrobe. Though not in the same category as a tyrant, he had definitely played a dominant role in their marriage.
Had he been chosen, not by her, but by her father? Had their marriage been one of convenience only, to hide the shame she’d visited upon her parents? It would explain so much about that distant relationship. Aidan tried to recall if she’d ever seen a display of tenderness between her grandparents.
At a knock on the parlor door, she looked up. “Charity?”
The knock sounded again, followed by the door being opened.
Annoyed, Aidan walked to the adjoining bathroom and splashed cold water over her face before hurrying to the parlor.
“I’m sorry.” Seeing her look of dismay, Ross paused just inside the doorway. “I suggested that you be given more time to compose yourself, but Cullen refused to wait another minute. He’s beside himself and sent me to apologize for having upset you. He begs you to look at some of the things he’s been saving.”
“I can’t. I’m not ready…”
He held up a hand. “In all the years I’ve known Cullen Glin, I’ve never known him to beg. This means the world to him. You,” he said for emphasis, “and your opinion of him have begun to mean the world to him.”
“I’m not who he wants me to be.”
“So you’ve said. But you’ve heard his story.”
“And he’s heard mine. Just because he wants my grandmother to be the great love of his life doesn’t make it so.”
“He has documents…”
“So do I. A birth certificate, a marriage license…”
“Which could have been filled in with any name, especially by immigrants who desperately wanted to hide their identity. You know that’s so, Aidan.”
“My parents and grandparents lived ordinary lives.”