The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

relief that she did. “That’s why I don’t worry what my grandfather would think of what I’m doing here. But I do think of how my parents will feel when it’s done.”
    “Then I’ll say this. To my way of thinking, they’ll be proud. Ireland’s art is at its core, and you’re bringing more of it here. Along with it the practicality of jobs and revenue. It’s a good thing you’re doing, and a credit to your father, your mother, and your heritage.”
    A nagging little weight fell off his shoulder. “Thanks. It matters, more than I anticipated. It was one of the things that hit me when I was standing up on the hill. It matters. What I do here, and leave here. And while I was coming to that conclusion, I had a conversation with Carrick.”
    Her fingers jerked in his. When he looked down, he saw the surprise clearly on her face before she closed her mouth and made a quiet humming sound.
    “Do you think I’m hallucinating?”
    “No.” She paused, then shook her head. “I don’t, no. Others whose sanity I’m sure of claim to have done the same. We’ve broad minds around here.”
    But she knew the legend, and it unnerved her enough that she took a step back and sat on the arm of a chair. “And what did you converse about?”
    “A number of things. My grandfather. Old Maude and Johnnie Magee. Schedules, virtues, the theater. You.”
    “Myself.” Now she rubbed her suddenly damp hands on her trousers. “And what would that be about?”
    “You know the legend, probably better than I. It takes three couples, as I understand it, falling in love, accepting each other, taking vows.”
    “So it’s said.”
    “And in the past year or so, your two brothers have fallen in love, accepted it, and taken vows.”
    “I’m aware of that, as I was at their weddings.”
    “Then, given the quickness of your mind, I assume you’ve considered the fact that there are three Gallaghers.” He took a step closer. “You look a little pale.”
    “I’d appreciate it if you’d get to the point you’re dancing around.”
    “All right, direct. He’s pegged us as his third and final step.”
    Her chest seemed to fill all at once with heat and pressure, making her want to knock her fist against it to loosen it again. But she kept her hands still and her eyes level. “That wouldn’t sit well with you.”
    “Would it with you?”
    She was too flustered to catch the evasion. “I’m not the one having conversation with faerie princes, am I? And no, I don’t particularly care to have my fate and future dictated by another’s wants or needs.”
    “Neither do I. Neither,” he added, “will I.”
    She thought she understood now why he’d told her of his grandfather. To show her he had cold blood in him.
    Slowly she got to her feet. “I see what put you in such a rare mood. The very idea of the remote possibility that I might be your fate and future set you right off, didn’t it? The very thought that a man of your education and consequence should tumble heart-first for a barmaid.”
    He was so genuinely baffled it took him a moment to answer. “Where the hell did that come from?”
    “Who could blame you for being angry and frustrated when such a suggestion was made? It’s a fortunate thing for both of us that love has nothing to do with the matter.”
    He’d seen angry women before, but he wasn’t certain he’d ever faced one who looked so capable of inflicting real physical harm. To ward it off, he held up his hands palms out. “In the first place, what you do for a living has nothing to do with . . . anything. In the second, you’re hardly a barmaid, though it wouldn’t matter if you were.”
    “I serve drinks in a pub, so what’s that if not a barmaid?”
    “Aidan runs the bar, Shawn runs the kitchen, and you run the service,” Trevor said patiently. “And I imagine if you wanted, you could run the whole shot—or any other pub in your country or mine. But that’s hardly an issue.”
    “It happens to be of some particular issue with me.” But she yanked back her anger and let it vibrate on the end of its tether.
    “Darcy, I told you this because it concerns both of us, because we’re lovers and it’s only right we both know where we stand. Now we do, and we’re agreed we don’t intend to let ourselves get tangled up in some ancient legend.”
    He took her hand again, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles to soothe out the stiffness. “Separate from that—entirely separate from that—I