Well, duh. She wanted to keep it as a source of inspiration for future love stories, and the notebook was a primary source from a family steeped in Irish lore.
She inhaled and exhaled, hoping to calm her mind and be focused on the present. There was nothing she could do about the lost notebook now. Nor could she let Griffin know she had anything to do with finding it on the airplane.
All she could do was direct him to Bronagh Abbey and hope to con her way in so she could search the fairy mound.
What story would she give the abbess? That she was getting married tonight and would like a blessing?
As usual, Dublin traffic was dense until they reached the outskirts. Once they hit the open road, Griffin raced the convertible on the winding road through a rangeof mountains and down into the valley.
In the last light of dusk, Clare lifted her eyes and glimpsed the abbey high up on a ridge several switchbacks away from them. A dark mist swirled around the watchtower and hung over the tumble-down wall where vines and bushes peeked from between the rock piles.
A foreboding chill raised all the fine hairs on her skin, and she wrapped a whitefur stole tighter over her shoulders.
Abbess Aisling was not likely to look kindly on the so-called changeling she took in one cold winter day. Clare had been left in a basket with no note—nothing but a crying baby girl with flaming-red hair.
“Almost there,” Griffin said, swerving around a hairpin turn. “I can’t wait to meet the people who raised you and marry you in the abbey’schapel.”
“I don’t know if anyone there is authorized to perform a wedding,” Clare said. “I thought we were going only to look for your family treasure.”
“When we have the Heart of Brigid, we won’t need anyone to officiate,” Griffin said. “The laws of the Tuatha Dé Danann will cover our union, and we will be married in the land of the Fae.”
“You’re sounding like you’re offyour meds,” Clare said, still kicking herself for not escaping out the back door of the pub.
“Clare, Clare, Clare,” he said. “You’re my best friend, and you’ve been so helpful to me. I promise you I’ll support your movie efforts if you give me back the treasure you stole from me. Isn’t cooperating with me better than if I went to the Garda?”
That was definitely a threat.
“I’m getting weirded out,” she said, her words slow and measurable. “If we’re friends, shouldn’t you be concerned about how I feel?”
He took his foot off the accelerator, and the car lurched. “If we’re friends, you would have given my property back without trickery and games.”
The jig was up. He’d just taken off the mask of all pretense.
“You’re right,” she agreed. “I’m sorryI took your Heart of Brigid and swapped it for a lump of coal. I’ve been wrong to try to wring a movie deal out of you, and all I can do now is to lead you to the Heart of Brigid. Will you let me go, please? Instead of calling the Garda?”
He pulled off the road and shut off the car but left the headlamps on. “I’m amazed that you’re finally fessing up. I promised I would not hurt you, soif you give me back what’s mine, I’ll let you go. Although, you’ve been the most fun I’ve ever had since returning from my last seizure.”
“It’s only been a little over a week.” She looked over at him in the dim light. “I’m sure you’ve had more fun in your last life.”
“I don’t know. I’ve lost my Green Notebook where I kept the plan.” He shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Afterspending today with you, I’ve decided to take you up on your offer. We created good memories today. I’ll have the surgery, and I hope you will stay friends with me.”
Wow. They were truly having a heart-to-heart after all the make-believe. Clare felt herself lightening up and breathing easier. This version of Griffin was both easy on the eyes and easy on the heart.
“I can do friends,”she said, although her heart clenched at the setback. Hadn’t they almost been ready to marry? Although that had been pretend, she hadn’t even had time to fantasize. Lady of the Castle Gallagher. Her love story made into a movie. The dashing Griffin Gallagher taking her as his bride. But then, it had all been fake.
“I’m glad we cleared the air,” Griffin said. He took out his cell phone.“Let me make an audio note on what we agreed to.”
He brought up his voice journal app and spoke into it. “My name is Griffin Gallagher, the Duke of Gallagher Castle in Malin Head, County Donegal. I have epilepsy of the kind where I lose my memory. My last seizure was eight days ago after I came home from the United States. I sat in an airplane next to Clare Hart. She stole my Heart of Brigid,and she has agreed to give it back to me. In return, I will not turn her over to authorities. Clare, do you have anything to say?”
He gave her the phone, so she said, “I thought to play a practical joke on Griffin because I wanted to meet up with him again. I didn’t know it was valuable, so I swapped his precious Heart of Brigid with a lump of coal. I hid his stone in a fairy mound at BronaghAbbey. We are going to the abbey to fetch it. I will give the stone back to Griffin and not ask anything in return. I hope we can stay friends because I truly enjoyed the time I spent with him. I’m hoping he will get his epilepsy treated. I promise to be there at his side to help him through it.”
She handed his phone back, and he paused the app. Then he looped his arm around her shouldersand took a selfie with her. He set the timer and asked, “May I have a kiss?”
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Clare could hear the simulated camera sounds, but if this was the last kiss she’d get from Griffin, she’d at least make it worthwhile.
He kissed her almost breathless, and when he finished, he turned on the ignition. “I’m glad we’re speaking from our hearts. It wasn’t easy tryingto keep up all the parts of the story.”
