J. RoBB - The Lost

He paused to put a hand on her arm. “I’m only trying to help you through an awkward meeting.”

She drew away as though burned. “I’ll behave as I damned well please, Mr. Delaney. And when this meeting is over, I’ll be more than happy to leave you alone with the old man you’re trying so hard to protect from the big, bad American.”

For a moment he merely stared at her. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.

It was the most amazing transformation. His face, which had moments earlier appeared to be carved from stone, was now warm with animation. His eyes, which she’d sworn were ice blue, now glinted with humor. His voice, so stern and self-r ighteous, now softened with merriment.

“I see you have a temper, Miss O’Mara. A very good sign indeed.”

He paused before reaching a hand to the ornate door handle. Leaning close, he added, “I pray you keep it in check until the evening ends. Otherwise, you may find in Cullen Glin its equal.”

Before she could form a retort, he had the door open and heard him saying in a clear voice, “Sir, it’s my pleasure to introduce Aidan O’Mara. Aidan, your… host, Cullen Glin.”

Aidan’s temper was forgotten as she stared in surprise at the man facing her. She had expected to meet a frail old man, perhaps in a wheelchair, his lap covered with a blanket. That was her last memory of her stern grandfather in the years before his passing.

There was nothing frail about the man who strode across the room and offered a firm handshake. If anything, he resembled an aging lion, with a mane of white hair, a handsome Irish countenance, and a commanding presence. In his day, Aidan decided, Cullen Glin would have easily rivaled Ross Delaney as the most handsome man at any gathering.

“Aidan. Welcome to my home. Forgive me for staring.” He took a moment to compose himself. “I hope you’ll excuse my lack of manners. I got momentarily sidetracked. You’re much lovelier than your photographs.”

“Thank you.” She found herself beginning to relax in this man’s presence. “Your home is spectacular. My first glimpse of it took my breath away.”

“How refreshing.” He glanced beyond her to smile at Ross. “Isn’t she delightful?” Without waiting for a response, he turned that charming smile on her. “How are your rooms, my dear?”

“They’re grand. And, oh, that view of the gardens. I could sit and look at them for hours.”

“They’ve been at their best this season. I hope you were able to rest after that long flight.”

“I can’t remember the last time I slept so soundly.”

“Good. Good.” With his hand beneath her elbow, he led her across the room to a grouping of furniture positioned to take advantage of a cozy fire on the hearth.

Like her suite of rooms, the dining room was cavernous, with a table that could easily seat thirty or more people, and a crystal chandelier above it winking with hundreds of lights. Mahogany floors were polished to a high sheen, and softened with an enormous rug in shades of emerald and ruby and gold.

Despite the size, it felt easy and comfortable. Like the man of the house, Aidan thought, who seemed bigger than life.

Bridget entered bearing a silver tray on which stood a crystal decanter and three glasses. Cullen handed one to Aidan and took one for himself before handing Ross a tumbler of water.

“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.”