The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

tea. “Then if all I get from that is a headache, I’ll take a walk to clear it, or think of something else entirely. Most times, after I do, the words are just there, as if they’d been waiting for me to pluck them.”
    “I’m afraid to walk away when it’s not working. I always think if I do I won’t be able to write at all when I come back. Your way’s healthier.”
    “Ah, but you’re the published author, then, aren’t you?” While the tea steeped, he got out cups.
    “Do you want your music published, Shawn?”
    “Maybe, one day. There’s no rush about it.” Which, he knew, he’d been saying for years already. “I write it to please myself, and that’s enough for now.”
    “My agent might know someone in the music business. I’d be happy to ask.”
    His stomach jumped like a rabbit under the gun. “Oh, there’s no need for that. Actually, Jude, I’ve come by to speak with you about another matter altogether.”
    She waited, letting him bring the pot to the table, pour the tea. When he’d settled, and the fragrant steam rose between them, he still didn’t speak.
    “Shawn, tell me what’s on your mind.”
    “Well, I’m trying to figure out exactly how to say it. I’ll just start this way.” He reached in his pocket, and after drawing out the pearl, set it beside her cup.
    “A pearl?” Puzzled, she started to reach for it, then her gaze whipped up to his, and her fingers stopped a whisper away from the round white gem. “Oh. Carrick.”
    “He speaks fondly of you.”
    “How odd. It’s so . . . odd.” Now she did pick up the pearl and cupped it in her palm. “And the moonflower. The rest of the pearls turned to moonflowers.”
    “On Maude’s grave. What do you think of it all?”
    “What does a modern, educated, fairly intelligent woman think of the existence of faeries?” She let the pearl roll in her palm, then shook her head. “I think it’s marvelous. Literally. This one’s arrogant and impatient, and a bit of a showoff, but coming into contact with him is one of the things that changed my life.”
    “I think he’s of a mind to change mine. Or he wouldn’t have given me that.”
    “Yes, I’m sure you’re right.” Jude gave the pearl back to Shawn. “And how do you feel about that?”
    “That he’s got a long wait in store, as I like my life just as it is.”
    “Are you . . .” Trailing off, Jude picked up her tea. “I never had siblings, so I don’t know what’s out of line. But I wonder if you’re thinking of Brenna.”
    “I’ve given the O’Toole considerable thought. And I’ve given more than a passing one to the notion that Carrick sees my linking with her as the next step for him.”
    “And?”
    “Well, now.” Shawn picked up a biscuit, bit into it. “I’d say again, he has a long wait in store.” His lips twitched as Jude looked down into her tea. “Was that a bit of a matchmaker’s gleam I caught there in your pretty eyes, Jude Frances?”
    She sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “I’m talking about a happily married woman taking a look at her bachelor brother-in-law and thinking to herself, ‘Well, now, wouldn’t it be fine if our darling Shawn found himself the right woman and settled down—and what might it be that I can do to help that along.’ ”
    “I wouldn’t presume to interfere.” However prim her tone, the laugh showed in her eyes. “Hardly at all.”
    “I appreciate it.” He slipped the pearl back into his pocket. “And just so you’re aware of my thoughts and feelings on this, I’ll tell you that if there comes to be anything between me and the O’Toole it’ll be because it’s something we both decide upon, not because some bullying member of the gentry’s decided for us. Or even because my new sister, whom I love dearly, wishes it so.”
    “I only wish you to be happy.”
    “I’ve plans to stay that way. And as I do, I’d best get into the pub so Aidan’s not duty-bound to break my head for being late.”
     
     
     

 
ELEVEN
     
     
     
    B RENNA DIDN’T CONSIDER it spying. And she’d have challenged the one who accused her. It just so happened that she had a bit of work to do in Finkle’s room. He’d complained the shower was slow to drain, and since she was there in any case, the hotel had asked that she deal with it.
    Was it her fault he was on the phone with his employer when she came ’round? Certainly not. And could the blame be laid on her that he wasn’t