“What ifhe stole the real stone and substituted this one?” Clare asked. “How do you know you can trust him?”
“I can’t,” Griffin said. “He’s a trickster at heart, but his family has also failed to guard the Irish legacy they were entrusted with.”
“What is it?” Clare asked.
A shadow lowered over Griffin’s brow, and he palmed the stone, covering it. “Certainly, you’re familiar with thefour treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann.”
“The spear of Lúgh, the sword of Nuada, Dagda’s cauldron, and the stone of Fál,” Clare ticked them off. “But you’ve already messed it up. The Heart of Brigid is a stone, but it’s not the stone of Fál which sat up on the hill of Tara and determined the crowning of the high king.”
“You are smart,” Griffin said. “These are the four treasurestold in fairy tales. But when the Fae were defeated and relegated to the Otherworld, their magic changed into miniature versions which were more precious. The large standing stone became a diamond in the rough. The other items also turned smaller and more valuable.”
“What are they?”
“I cannot say,” Griffin said. “It is for each of the families to safeguard their treasure.”
“Which, apparently, they’ve all lost.” Clare sniffed and picked at her salad. “Fat lot of good having guardian families do for Ireland.”
The fact that Griffin knew Seamus bothered her. What if she were the one being set up to take the fall? But how could anyone predict she’d steal his trinket which turned out to be a valuable diamond? Unless Seamus was going to hook up with her later andsnatch the diamond from her? It made sense then to mail Griffin a phony.
She’d better proceed carefully. Hopefully, she hadn’t been followed to the abbey. But even then, so what? Seamus couldn’t get admittance past Abbess Aisling, since only females were allowed past the gate.
Griffin snickered and broke her out of her musing. “You are an interesting creature. You claim you’ll helpme find my treasure. How shall we start?”
Clare glanced around to see if anyone was within hearing distance. The butler was standing at the rose arbor, speaking on his mobile phone, and a gardener clipped deadheads from the rosebushes.
“Trust no one,” she said. “Not even your grandfather or Pierce. Tell them you met an interesting woman, me, and we’re taking a road trip through Ireland.”
“Now you’re going cloak and dagger on me.” He chuckled, wiping his lips with a napkin. “Why should I trust you?”
She put her hand over his and tickled the hairs on the backs of his fingers. “I saved one of your lives, didn’t I?”
“You did, but you also deny you’re my Brigid. Could it be you’re an impersonator?”
Why did he sound so suspicious? Or was she imagining it?It was getting hard for her to keep her story straight, since she’d changed it a few times already.
She returned his gaze as levelly as she could. “This might sound strange, but I don’t know for sure who I am. I was an orphan raised in an abbey. I don’t know who my parents are. I get visions and hear voices, fairy music and whispers. There are places here, like up in the gallery, wherethe air feels thick like gelatin, and the dankness is like anointing oil, slick against my skin.”
Okay, so she was exaggerating for his benefit, but that sexy vision was so hot and real, it was a miracle she didn’t fall off the castle wall.
He leaned toward her, eyes wide and excited. “It means you are half in our world and half in the Otherworld. It may be that you are a changeling,or you’re the human vessel for Brigid to return.”
Wouldn’t it be fantastic if it were so? What if she were indeed born of the spirit of Brigid? What a story that would be. Vistas of possibilities opened up like blooming flowers and budding leaves.
She looked into Griffin’s eyes, mustering as much confidence as she could. “I must go back to the abbey to search for clues. If I am indeedthe human vessel for Brigid or her changeling, I need to find the record of the day I was left at the abbey gate.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“We’ll need to tell your grandfather a story in order to get away.” Clare finished the wine with a tilt of her head. “We need to leave right away.”
“Why can’t we tell them we’re searching for the Heart of Brigid?” Griffin looked perplexed ashe wiped his hand over his hair.
“Based on what you’re telling me, the lack of photos and large blanks in your thousand-year history, I suspect someone is hiding information from you,” Clare said. “Perhaps your grandfather and butler want to keep you in the dark.”
“What for?”
“To better control you. Don’t you get it? They’re using your memory loss to tell you anything theywant.”
“What else can I do? They’re the only link I have with my past lives.”
