“I wasn’t when we met. I was afraid all the time. I had no hope of anything good in my future. I was bitter at the losses I’d suffered and the way I’d been treated.”
“True but none of those things make you heartless. A heartless person usually shows lack of feeling and consideration for others.”
“Which is precisely what I showed you when we first met. I did not care what you told me, I wanted you gone. I think I knew you would make me feel emotions I’d rather never experience. I’d had feelings and consideration for others, but all I got in return was betrayal and pain.”
“I don’t know. Perhaps you were heartless early on in our relationship, but what about now?”
“You might have a point.” She smiled that treasured smile. “I am not heartless now, but then you gave me your heart and filled mine. By doing so, you earned my love.”
“Thus, I earned the love of a heartless woman,” he mused. “It feels like winning on a quibble.”
“Do you want me to take my love back?”
The idea near crushed him. “NO! No. I beg you, please stay, please let me keep the love you’ve given me.”
“Silly man. You hold my heart forever more.” Grace twined her arms around his neck, rose on tiptoe and kissed him.”
Epilogue
Late March 1815
McCullen Grove, the Wexford seat of the Baron of Kilmore
Weeks, after his return to Ireland and his childhood home Luc looked at his wife, rosy from their early morning love making.
“We’ve kept to ourselves, long enough don’t you think, Grace?”
“I could live alone with you for a lifetime and be content.” She stroked his arms.
“I wouldn’t mind that. However, I am a baron and I do have responsibilities to the people who live nearby. Most of them work on my land or toil at my businesses.”
She studied him. “I expect you also have old friends you wish to connect with.”
“Would you mind?”
“Of course not. Your friends must become my friends too.”
Then I suggest we walk into Cullenton village after breaking our fast. I’ll show you around and introduce you to everyone I know.”
“I’d like that. Just…”
“What?”
“They’ll have questions about where you’ve been, how we met and came to marry, and a host of other queries I can’t think of right now.”
“You are a wise woman.” Luc kissed her forehead. “I’ll answer what I can. What I can’t, I’ll put off until whomever is asking can visit us at home.”
“A good plan. I’ll race you to the breakfast parlor.”
Later, well fed and dressed, they ambled down the lane and into the village where they walked the square of the town and met many of the local residents.
“Do we intend to seek out Squire Comerford and his wife today?” Grace asked almost shyly.
“Perhaps. Let us have some tea and discuss how we want to approach them.”
“Very well.”
They crossed the green to a small thatched building. A sign shaped like a teacup and saucer hung above the door. “MacNamara’s Teas & Biscuits” was printed in white paint on the wood.
