Mirror, Mirror

by Robb, J. D.

  With tears streaming down her cheeks, she struggled to find the words to convince her stepmother. It was several minutes before Sydney realized the line had already gone dead.

  But not as dead as her poor heart.

  She dropped the phone and sank to the edge of the bed, sobbing into her hands as Margot’s hateful words played over and over in her mind.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Once the seed of mistrust had been sown in Sydney’s mind, it began to grow and fester like a poisonous weed until it took over everything good and beautiful. It became impossible for Sydney to think about anything else. All the sweet and wonderful things she’d found so lovable about Cullen were swept aside by the venom of Margot’s words.

  Margot’s questions demanded answers. Answers that had Sydney inwardly wincing.

  Had she ever seen Cullen actually pay for anything?

  At Mrs. Kelly’s bake shop, that sweet woman had refused his offer to pay for his barmbrack. Why? She appeared to be a successful businesswoman. It was her job to accept pay for her work. How could she make any money if she gave away her pastries? Unless, of course, she already knew that Cullen couldn’t afford to pay.

  What about the lovely picnic basket? Had that good woman provided that free of charge as well? Or had he suggested that he would pay her later, when he came into some money?

  And then again at O’Malley’s Pub. Cullen had appeared to make an effort to pay, but the owner had stopped him. Why? What was going on here?

  Now that she thought about it, other than the picnic, and O’Malley’s and Riley’s, Cullen hadn’t taken her anywhere. At least no place where she could actually meet his friends and have a conversation.

  She’d begun their relationship by insisting on paying for his gas, and he’d appeared to grudgingly accept. Had it all been an act to set a trap for an unsuspecting tourist?

  Since arriving in Innismere, they had walked everywhere. Not that she’d minded. She couldn’t fault Cullen for that. It had been her wish to see her father’s town. And what better way than on foot?

  She’d thought it all sweet and charming.

  Now, Margot’s words gave her no peace.

  She knew absolutely nothing about the man who had asked her to be his wife. Not his last name, nor what he did for a living, or even where or how he lived. And hadn’t she felt as though his godmother, Bridget McCarthy, had been keeping secrets about him? She never gave Sydney a direct answer to even the simplest question about Cullen.

  Did everyone in this town know him to be a con man? Had they been watching his latest conquest while secretly laughing behind the silly tourist’s back?

  And on top of everything else, there was his insistence that they marry quickly. Was that designed to keep her from asking any questions?

  Shattered beyond belief, Sydney suddenly scrolled through her cell phone until she found the number for the airline. Minutes later she had booked a flight home, even though it would cost a fortune to change her ticket from the original scheduled return.

  She glanced at her watch. She had just enough time to pack and get to the airport in Dublin.

  Dublin. For a moment her poor heart stopped beating. Dublin was where Cullen had told her he was going. Had that been a lie, as well? And all that business about forgetting his wallet. Forgetting his grandmother’s ring.

  Lie, upon lie, upon lie. And she had willingly believed every word of it. In fact, she’d lapped it up like a starving housecat.

  Or a love-starved fool.

  She absorbed the pain around her heart and pressed a hand to the spot.

  Then, taking a deep breath, she reached for her suitcase and began hastily tossing her belongings inside.

  When the suitcase was closed, she again scrolled through her phone menu and called for a car to drive her to Dublin.

  Giving a last look around the lovely room, she opened the door and descended the stairs.

  Seeing no one around, she left a note on the closed guest book, saying she was departing at once and was leaving for Shannon Airport in order to catch the evening flight home.

  Bridget had her credit card information. Sydney hoped the woman was honest enough to refuse to charge her for the time she hadn’t spent there. Of course, she had every right to charge Sydney the full amount. Whatever Bridget’s decision, Sydney decided that it would be worth any price just to have this humiliating scene behind her.

  A car pulled up to the curb and Sydney climbed into the backseat.

  “Dublin, please. Shannon Airport.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  As they drove through the town, Sydney found her gaze drawn to the old church on the hill, seeing in her mind’s eye the simple cemetery and the neat rows of headstones, many of them bearing the names of her ancestors.

  She had nearly shamed all of them. Thank heaven Margot had brought her to her senses in time to spare her any further humiliation.

  She blinked, seeing again the lovely old castle of her dreams, and the robed men and women looking like kings and queens riding across the sky on winged clouds.

  She would have to do something to curb her wild imagination.

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to blot out all the images that began playing through her mind. Images of a tall, handsome rogue with the most wonderful smile and that charming sense of humor that never failed to touch her heart.

  No wonder he’d been so charming. It had all been a well-rehearsed act. And all of it designed to steal the heart of some pathetic, love-starved tourist, just ripe for a summer romance.

  SHANNON AIRPORT WAS BUSTLING WITH PEOPLE AND ALL of them in a hurry.

  Sydney made her way to the assigned terminal and was surprised to find the passengers already boarding. Grateful that she’d made it in the nick of time, she stepped into line and presented her ticket to the agent before following the others aboard the plane.

  Once seated, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes against the sting of tears that threatened. She’d had such hopes for this journey to her father’s birthplace. She’d spent all of his hard-earned money for her own selfish gratification. And what did she have to show for it? A few days in Ireland. A visit to her ancestors’ gravesites. And . . . she felt the hot sting of embarrassment . . . a romantic whirlwind, designed to dupe anyone foolish enough to believe in love at first sight and happily ever after.

  At least she’d managed to escape before the final humiliation. How would she have ever explained marriage to a complete stranger after she woke up to find herself alone and penniless in a foreign land?

  “Oh, Da.” With a sigh she opened her purse and took out the familiar photograph. Just the sight of her father, shirt rumpled and stained, that wonderful smile on his handsome face, had her pain of embarrassment growing deeper. “I’m so sorry. I should have listened to Margot’s warning. I almost fell for the oldest trick in the world.”

  “Love is no trick.”

  She looked around, wondering at the sound of her father’s voice, spoken aloud.

  The seat beside her was empty.

  She studied the photograph, seeing her father’s face, his wise, loving eyes. “Cullen doesn’t love me. Like Margot said, it was all a con. Why, we only knew each other for a couple of days.”

  She closed her eyes, recalling her father’s words, spoken so often after they’d lost her mother. “I knew, the moment I saw her, that she was the one for me. Love, true love, doesn’t need time. Nor rhyme or reason. With true love, the heart knows.”

  Sydney sighed aloud. “I thought I knew. But, as Margot said, I was an easy mark.”

  “How could Margot know, Sydney? Only those caught in the grip of love can know what’s truly in the heart.”

  “I can’t trust my heart, Da.”

  “If not your heart, what can you trust?”

  Sydney stared at the photograph, and would have sworn that her father winked.

  “Da . . .”

  His words were like a soft, gentle breeze
, whispering across her face. “Believe, Sydney. Listen to your heart and believe what it tells you.”

  As his words washed over her, she unbuckled her seat belt and started up the aisle.

  The flight attendant stopped her with a hand to her arm. “You’ll need to be seated, miss. We’re about to depart.”

  “I’ve changed my plans. I need to get off the plane now.”

  “Sorry. Once the cabin door is sealed, we can’t allow anyone to leave. You’ll have to take your seat. Hurry now.”

  “But . . .”

  “Now,” the attendant said sternly. “Or I’ll be forced to call security.”

  Hearing the roar of engines, Sydney made her way back to her designated seat and fastened her belt. As the plane started along the runway, she could no longer hold back the tears. They streamed down her face as she pressed her father’s photo to her heart and whispered, “Oh, Da, I’ve made a horrible mistake. And now, Cullen will never know why I left him without a word. Oh, what have I done? Da, I do believe in love. I do believe what my heart is telling me, but it’s too late. Unless there’s a miracle, Cullen will never know.”

  Choking back sobs, she buried her face in her hands.

  She felt a gentle touch to her shoulder, and her father’s voice whispering, “Believe.”

  A voice came over the intercom. “This is your captain speaking. Due to a mechanical failure, I’m afraid we must return to the terminal. I’m sorry for this inconvenience, but the safety of our passengers is always our primary concern.”

  Stunned, Sydney lifted her head and watched as the plane made a slow turn and retraced the route to the terminal, where the passengers were ordered to deplane and await transfer to another, later plane.

  As she followed the others past a throng of interested bystanders, one man separated himself from the crowd and started toward her.

  His eyes showed the strain of tension as he caught hold of her upper arms and drew her close, burying his face in her hair.

  “Sydney. I thought I’d lost you.”

  “Cullen.” She took in a breath, wondering where to begin.

  Before she could say a word, he gathered her close. “When Bridget told me you’d checked out, I drove like a maniac, desperate to get here in time. When I realized I was too late, I fell to my knees in despair. And then, just as I’d lost hope, I felt someone touch my shoulder and I heard a man’s voice say, ‘Believe.’ I looked around, but there was no one near. And then I experienced this strange sense of peace, and I knew without a doubt that you would return to me. In almost that same instant I heard the announcement that your plane was returning to the terminal, and I knew in my heart that everything would be all right.”

  She lifted her head to meet his eyes. Her own swam with tears. “It was the same for me. One minute I was filled with despair, and the next I heard the captain speaking and knew that I’d been given a second chance to make things right.” She touched a hand to his face. “I need to explain why . . .”

  He closed a hand over hers. “Not now, love. There are no words needed. Just come with me. Please,” he added when she arched a brow. “And I promise you’ll soon have the answers to all your heart’s questions.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The drive from Dublin to Innismere seemed to take no more than a moment in time. No sooner had Sydney leaned her head back and closed her eyes than Cullen was taking her hand and helping her from his car.

  She looked around in surprise. “Where are we?”

  “This building houses our town hall and courthouse.” He led her up the steps.

  Once inside they crossed to a pair of ornate double doors. Cullen held the door for Sydney, and she looked up to see a man in judicial robes just stepping into the chambers.

  “Ah. So this is the one?” the stranger said to Cullen.

  “Indeed. Thank you for taking care of this on such short notice.”

  The white-haired judge winked. “Always happy to be on Cupid’s side. Especially when Cupid is assisting the history of our fine town.” He turned to Sydney. “Do you have any questions?”

  “Dozens of them.” She nodded. “But first, shouldn’t I fill out some forms?”

  He held up a handful of documents. “So you have.”

  When she looked at them, she could see her own handwriting.

  The judge smiled. “I must ask if you are here of your own choice.”

  Believe. The word played through her mind.

  She glanced at Cullen before saying softly, “I am.”

  “And you, Cullen? This is what you desire above all else?”

  “With all my heart.”

  “Let us begin.” The judge picked up a book and began reading in a strange language.

  “Gaelic,” Cullen whispered.

  Sydney’s eyes widened as she heard her name spoken, and then Cullen’s, before the judge returned to the ancient tongue.

  When he had finished, he closed the book and held it out to them. “Will you swear upon all that is holy that you will abide by the laws of the land as you begin your journey together as husband and wife?”

  Sydney and Cullen placed their hands on the book while raising their right hands and agreeing.

  The judge produced a magnificent ruby and diamond ring. “Bridget McCarthy brought this to me. I remember your mother and grandmother wearing this very ring on their wedding days. It is more than a ring. It is a symbol of hope for all in this town.”

  “I’m in Bridget’s debt,” Cullen whispered as he placed it on Sydney’s finger before lifting her hand to his lips.

  Seeing the braided shamrock bracelet still on her wrist brought a smile to his eyes. “But this lovely vine means more to me than precious jewels.”

  Before Sydney could respond, the judge said, “Blessings on the two of you.” He glanced at his watch. “Just in time. ’Tis the stroke of midnight. A minute more and I’d have turned into a wise old owl.”

  Adjusting his glasses, he turned away and disappeared into his chambers, while Sydney turned to Cullen with a look of alarm. “Was he joking?”

  “You’ll have to ask him the next time you see him.” With a wink, Cullen caught Sydney’s hand and the two of them dashed out of the courthouse.

  Despite the late hour, the street was alive with people holding candles who began clapping and cheering as the couple made their way to Cullen’s car.

  Once inside he turned to her with a smile. “Wave to all the good people.”

  She did as he’d said, and was surprised by the roar of approval that assaulted her ears. “They make me feel like royalty. Do they do this for every couple who marry in your town?”

  His eyes, his smile, were full of mischief. “Not every couple, though I know they’re particularly happy for me. I had planned on celebrating here, with the good people of Innismere. But after all this excitement, I think we could both use some quiet time. I’ll let them know through Bridget that they can plan a proper celebration for tomorrow.” He put the car in gear. “For now, why don’t we go to my home?”

  Sydney nodded. “Maybe that’s best. This has all happened so quickly, my head is spinning.”

  As he started the car’s engine, he caught her hand. “I’m sorry for all the confusion, Sydney. I hope I can make it up to you.”

  When she said nothing, he lifted her hand to his lips. At once she felt the warmth spreading through her veins. His simple touch was like a potent drug, putting her at ease and erasing all her doubts and fears.

  “Sydney, you should know that I’ve been distracted ever since we met on the plane. I knew there was something special about you. And the more time I spent with you, the more convinced I was that our meeting was no accident. We were meant to meet and fall in love. It was fated from the beginning of time.”

  She looked away. “How many times have you said those very words to someone, Cullen?”

  “Never before.” When she turned to him, his smile was dazzling. “You’re the first, Sydney. You’ll be the last
. You are the only one.”

  Her smile came slowly. “I ran away because of Margot’s warning that I’d been taken in by your charm. She called you Prince Charming.”

  “Your stepmother makes that sound like a bad thing.” He squeezed her hand. “I hope it’s true. Are you charmed?”

  “Completely.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “That makes two of us. You’re the most amazing, delightful woman I’ve ever known.”

  “I’ve always thought of myself as ordinary.”

  “Sydney, you’re the most extraordinary woman in the world. I’m completely dazzled by you.”

  They drove through the darkened countryside, past pretty farmhouses with lights aglow, and Sydney began watching, wondering if she’d be able to spy Cullen’s house.

  The road began climbing past tall hedgerows that blotted out the twinkling stars, past lovely meandering rock walls with brightly painted doors, until they came up over a rise and drew near a magnificent manor house that resembled the castle of Sydney’s vision. Every window was ablaze with light.

  Cullen drove to the front door and stepped out. Rounding the car, he opened Sydney’s door and caught her hand.

  Before she could ask a single question, ornate double doors were thrown open and a silver-haired man in a black suit made a grand bow before saying, “Welcome home, sir.”

  “Thank you, Egan. This is my lovely bride, Sydney.”

  “Welcome to Eventide.” The old man stood aside as they stepped into the elegant foyer. “Mrs. Maguire is conferring with Cook about the wedding supper you requested, sir.”

  “Thank you, Egan.” Cullen caught Sydney’s hand and led her up the wide, curving stairs to the second story.

  Once inside, she stared around the elegant sitting room where a fire burned on the hearth. A white marble surround with a wide matching mantel gleamed in the firelight. Above the mantel hung two paintings.