‘Will ya come have a drink with me in my office? Just the two of us? Just for a little while, so we can talk?’ Dan leans back from my face, his eyes sparkle with what I think is happiness and I nod empathically. He follows me as I pick my coat up from the stool at the bar.
If Storm Faith doesn’t keep me here, in Castlemoon, a little longer I will surely cry. As the music continues and the dancefloor sways, I take a quick glance around. Candles glimmer and flicker, the entire room seems to be slow dancing – no doubt many happily married Heartwell couples blessed with their union under this very roof – as we manage to slip out, unnoticed.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Dan’s office is small but tidy. Functional. The walls are painted a neutral colour. Shelves mounted hold books and various bulging folders. His desk is positioned near the window and displays photos of Esther and Michael, along with old framed shots of Castlemoon. A small potted plant in desperate need of attention cowers on the floor. Red sits curled up on an old blanket and he doesn’t bark as we enter, just looks up at us then puts his head back down on his paws.
‘It blows my mind that he likes you. He doesn’t like anyone except me. Good boy,’ Dan says to him as he pulls his wax jacket from a chair. ‘Here, sit down.’ He hangs it on a peg behind the door over a leather jacket. I can barely keep my eyes off him in this suit as he pulls a bottle of whiskey from his drawer.
‘New York whiskey, thought you might fancy a small night cap? A bit of home away from home?’ He removes the suit jacket now. ‘Never feel comfortable in this tin of fruit.’
I eyeball him.
‘Suit,’ he explains and flicks open the top three buttons of his white shirt as he gets the glasses down from a shelf. Immediately, I recognise it as the same one that Esther had. It’s hard to believe he is their son. What parents to have had. What an upbringing. What couple goals to have.
‘Just a tiny drop, I don’t know what Mary gave me but I’m still buzzing.’ I laugh.
‘Poitín. You heard she got the hospital appointment?’
‘I did,’ I say as I shiver. His office is cold.
‘Are you freezing? Sorry!’ Dan comes over and drapes my wool coat around my shoulders.
‘Thank you. This dress isn’t exactly made for winter. So, Lord – can I call you Lord? It goes well with Your Highness,’ I ask, poking him playfully with my foot and he laughs as he sits.
‘Who’s the funny one now? But please don’t. I’m lord in name only, Maggie. Proud son of Lord Michael Delaney and Lady Esther Ni Geallaigh. Inheritor of the crumbling Castlemoon. In debt. In danger of losing it all. But in the immortal words of Gloria Gaynor, I will survive!’ He raises a glass in a mock toast, sits heavily into his office chair.
‘I asked Gráinne why no one in the village told me you were the lord of the castle.’
‘Don’t you hear how pretentious it sounds? We are a very down-to-earth community.’ The light catches the crystal glass as he turns it in his hand, reflecting like sparkles are floating around us.
‘No, it wasn’t that. Heartwell is very protective of you, especially after Denise .?.?.’
‘Ack, they minded me after my broken heart.’ He half laughs.
‘But you said she didn’t hurt you. At least, I think that’s what you said?’ I ask him. I don’t want him to have loved her; she didn’t deserve him.
‘Hurt? No. Humiliated? Yes.’ He leans across the desk, squeezes my arm gently, as though this is the first time he’s admitted it out loud. He exhales deeply.
‘What drew you to her?’ I simply must know.
‘She’s a first cousin of the Murphys’. I was introduced to her in the organic market one sunny Saturday morning. I rememberthat day so well, the Wimbledon women’s final was on the telly and I came in for strawberries for my mother. Denise was very glamorous but totally dismissive of me in my wellies and flat cap, so I thought no more about her.’ He shrugs.
Immediately, I think of how I reacted when Dan told me he was the owner of the Rolls-Royce, I questioned him, and my cheeks burn. I did judge him, even if I didn’t think I did.
‘Go on.’ I take the tiniest sip from the strong golden liquid.
‘Okay, I never talk about it but, long story short, Kate obviously told her I was a lord and had just inherited the castle and she was up here like a fly on .?.?. well, ya know yourself.’
‘She thought you were a millionaire?’ I raise a brow.
‘You got it in one. A few days later she arrived up at the castle. She asked me to help her organise a fundraiser for the Heartwell animal shelter. It’s where I rescued Red from as a scared starving puppy, so I couldn’t say no. She played me. Then she wormed her way in, pretending to be a kind person but she really wasn’t. It was all premeditated.’ Dan removes his hand now and opens the desk drawer and rummages for a few seconds. Then, he pulls out pieces of paper stapled together, crumpled and old looking, with coffee-stained rings. ‘This was the last credit card bill she ran up on me.’ He flicks to the last page and hands it to me.
‘Fifteen thousand euro!’ I gasp as my eyes scan the list of transactions, all designer stores.
‘Yeah, she used to take my credit card all the time and wouldn’t believe me when I said I was in debt from her spending. She started to turn ugly in my eyes. I asked her to move out as soon as she could find a new place and she refused. Terry, let’s just say encouraged her by giving her a few home truths I wasn’t strong enough to admit. Still, she wouldn’t leave. Then she tried to bad mouth me all over the village, saying I was stingy. No one believed her or gave her the time of day after that. Finally, oneday she packed up and left with a note saying she still loved me and that she was sorry.’
‘And have you seen her since?’ I ask softly.
