“And yet your looks are dark, like Liz Taylor,” Gran noted.
Grace grinned. “As you can see, I wasn’t totally cooperative.”
Everyone laughed, but Gran laughed the loudest. Declan thought it did her good to have some company. Suddenly, he felt wistful. The urge to come back home was strong.
“Declan, are you all right?” asked Mrs. Peete, startling him. “You seemed as if you were far away.”
Declan sat up straighter and realized all eyes of the tour group were on him. “Sorry, just thinking of something.”
Mrs. Robinson spoke up. “Or maybe someone? Have you left a girl behind in Australia, maybe?” She gave him a wink.
“No, no, nothing like that,” he said quickly. He stole a glance at Grace, who had lowered her eyes and stared at the teacup in her hands. The last thing Declan wanted was for Grace to think he had a girlfriend in Australia. Or anywhere, for that matter. He looked up and caught Gran watching him with a soft smile.
“Our Declan has yet to find his true love,” Gran said. She gave him a look and said, “Not for lack of trying, that’s for sure.”
Declan squirmed in his seat. He felt conspicuous. He had no desire to open up about his love life. Or lack of one. With the chairs and the living-room suite arranged in a circle like this, it was beginning to feel like a self-help group.
The priest, who was usually quiet, spoke up. “Maybe you aren’t meant for marriage. Maybe a vocation is intended for you.”
A priest? That was worse.
“With all due respect, Father, I never had the nudge from the Holy Ghost for that path,” Declan said.
“But if he did, that would be a wonderful thing as well,” Gran said. Declan eyed her suspiciously. Yeah, she’d love it if he became a priest. Her very own hotline to God.
“Nope, not a hope, I’m afraid,” Declan said firmly, trying to convince everyone present that he wasn’t intended to become a man of the cloth.
Gran turned her attention to Grace. “What about you, Grace? Are you single? Dating someone?”
Grace blushed and shook her head. “I’m as single as they come.”
“That’s hard to believe,” Mrs. Robinson said. “You’re so pretty.”
“A bit quiet, though,” Mrs. Peete piped in.
“But that’s better than these ones that are right in your face and never stop talking,” Gran added. “They talk a lot but say nothing.”
“That’s true,” Mrs. Robinson said.
Their husbands and the priest looked on but said nothing, deciding not to comment.
Grace helped herself to another piece of cake. “Everything is delicious.”
Relieved at the change in subject, Declan said, “That one you’ve got there is called a Victoria sponge.”
Grace turned to him. “The jam and the cream together are really yummy.”
He raised an eyebrow. Yummy? “It’s a nice light cake. It’s one of my favorites.” He realized that all eyes were on him and Grace and their exchange over something as innocuous as cake. He ran a forefinger underneath his collar, trying to loosen it a bit.
It went quiet, the awkward kind of quiet, as if there were something looming in the air above them. Gran stood up, removed the teapot, and headed back to the kitchen to make more tea.
The lull in the conversation continued until Mr. Robinson came to the rescue.
“What’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” he asked.
Declan wanted to give the man a prize for changing the subject. He glanced at his watch. “As it’s getting late in the afternoon, we have a few options. We’re heading back toward the hotel, so you can either take some time to do some shopping, go back to your rooms for an afternoon nap, or I can take you up the road to a castle tower. Later on, we’ve got reservations at a pub, where they’ll have some traditional Irish music.”
“Oh, I’m really looking forward to that,” Mrs. Robinson, the music teacher, said.
“I’m looking forward to that, too. Maybe we could go back to the hotel and freshen up,” Mr. Robinson suggested. He was beginning to look a little tired. Fair play to him. The oldest of the group—Declan pegged him to be around Gran’s age—he had kept up well with the rest of them.
Mrs. Robinson nodded. “That’s probably a good idea. I’m all for packing a lot into one day, but I also need to listen to my body.”
It was agreed upon by all that they’d like some time to ramble on their own. Grace mentioned that there were some shops next to the hotel that she’d like to investigate. Everyone helped Gran carry the dishes back to the kitchen, where Declan loaded up the dishwasher for her. Grace and Mrs. Robinson downsized the plates and wrapped up the remains with cling film. Mrs. Robinson and Mrs. Peete asked Gran for her address, as they said they’d like to send her a Christmas card. Gran stood out front and waved goodbye to them as the minibus pulled away. Within twenty minutes, Declan was pulling the bus up in front of the hotel.
As his passengers disembarked, he reminded them, “I’ll see you all at half seven.” Once everyone was off, Declan glanced at his watch and thought it didn’t make sense to go home, as there were only two hours left. He ended up parking the bus in the public car park behind SuperValu and strolled back to the main street of town. As he did, he caught a glimpse of Grace going into a shop that sold all sorts of souvenirs, from keychains to fine Irish linen. He resisted the urge to peek in the window as he walked by; he didn’t want her to think he was stalking her. He headed on to his favorite pub in this town, the Horse and the Hound. Despite all he’d eaten at his grandmother’s, he had a taste for a plate of fish and chips. Driving these tourists around all day could really work up an appetite.
Once inside, he parked himself at the bar. He’d love to order a pint but it was too risky with driving the bus, so he ordered a lemonade and an order of fish and chips, settling in to be alone with his thoughts for a while.
“Declan!”
He turned and came face to face with John O’Shea, a friend of Paul’s. They’d all gone to school and played sports together.
Declan reached out and shook his hand. “John, how are you?”
“Good, good. I saw Paul last night. He said you were staying on to help out.”
“I am. What are you up to these days?” Declan asked.
“I’m the project manager overseeing the refurbishment of Aisling Manor,” John replied.
“Really? Big project?” Declan asked, curious.
John let out a low whistle. “I’ll say. There’ll be anywhere from eight hundred to one thousand tradesmen. The project is expected to last eighteen months to two years.”
Declan’s eyes widened. “Really? Are you looking for any construction workers?”
“Are you serious?”
Declan nodded. “I am. I’m ready to come home.”
“Let me give you my card,” John said. He pulled a business card from the inside breast pocket of his jacket and handed it to Declan. “Come see me this week. If you want a job, I’ll have one for you.”
Declan could barely contain his excitement. He thanked him and tucked the business card in his wallet. They spoke for a few more moments before John walked away.
Declan was just finishing his fish and chips, thinking about his possible change in fortune, when he looked up and saw Grace standing in the doorway.
She appeared to waver, as if she was debating whether to join him or not. She took a step forward, stopped and looked around. Then, as if she’d made the decision, she headed toward him. On her right arm, she carried a bag from Blarney Woollen Mills.
Declan nodded toward the bag. “I see you’ve been playing tourist since I last saw you.”
Grace gave him a shy, tentative smile. “Just a little something for my parents, my sister, and my nieces and nephews.”
“You didn’t leave anyone out?” he asked, teasing her.
She shook her head and laughed. “I hope not. Or there’ll be a price to pay.”
He nodded to th
e empty barstool next to him. “Sit down.”
She set her bag on the floor, climbed up on the barstool, and set her purse down on the bar.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.
She regarded him for a moment with those dark eyes of hers and finally said, “Sure, why not?”
“What will you have?”
She looked toward his drink. “What are you drinking?”
“It’s called Nash’s Red Lemonade,” he said.
“Does it have alcohol in it?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t touch the stuff when I’m driving.”
“Then I’ll have one of those,” she decided.
“And what about something to eat?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you, I’m still full from all the food we ate at your grandmother’s.”
Declan got the bartender’s attention and ordered two more lemonades. As their drinks arrived, he asked, “So how do you like Ireland so far?”
Grace smiled. “I love it. It’s so beautiful!”
He took a gulp of his drink. “That it is!” Curious, he asked, “So what brings you to Ireland by yourself?”
She seemed to hesitate. “I needed a change of scenery and a break.”
Unable to help himself, he pressed on. “Why? What was going on that you needed to get away?”
For a moment, he thought she might tell him to mind his own business.
“Well,” she said with a laugh that didn’t sound funny. “One week ago today, I was arriving at a church in the most beautiful wedding dress . . .”
“Oh,” he said, grimacing and deflating on her behalf.
“Everyone was there except for the groom. He’d done a runner.”
Declan lowered his voice. “I am really sorry. It must have hurt you very much.”
Grace shrugged, and there was a small smile, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “It’s only been a week. I haven’t gotten to the hurt part yet. I’m still in the shocked-and-humiliated phase.”
He leaned into her until their arms were touching. The intimacy of the gesture, getting so close to her, shocked him. “Want to tell your Uncle Declan all about it?”
She burst out laughing. It was all she needed. She poured forth her story. “We’d been together almost five years. I didn’t see this coming, but I should have.”
“How do you mean?” He signaled the bartender for another round of lemonade.
“Looking back, I can see that Mark was really not the committed type. I had enough commitment for both of us, and it was always me doing the asking or suggesting.”
“I’m listening,” Declan said. But he couldn’t help but think that he’d like to get his hands around the neck of this chancer. Who would do that to a woman? It was bad enough that he dumped her, but he couldn’t do it before the big day, to spare her the humiliation of showing up at the church? What kind of man was he?
“We worked together, and after a year of flirting at the water cooler, I asked him out. We started going out, and after about three months, it dawned on Mark that what we were doing—dating—was against company policy. I should have known then that it was his way of trying to break up with me,” she said. She leveled her dark-eyed gaze at Declan. “You know what I did? I resigned and found a job elsewhere.”
“Ouch,” Declan said.
“Ouch is right,” Grace said. She took a big gulp of lemonade and looked at him. “Oh, I am so sorry. You don’t want to hear all this! What am I doing?”
His first instinct was to put her at ease. “I want to hear whatever you want to tell me.”
She winced. “How about the condensed version?”
“Whatever you want,” Declan said.
“Are you always so agreeable?” she asked with a smile.
“No,” he answered immediately, and they both laughed.
Grace continued. “It was my idea to move in together. Then it was my idea to get engaged and get married.” She sighed. “And that’s the long and short of it. I was always doing the asking.”
“But he must have wanted it on some level if he didn’t protest or say no,” Declan pointed out.
Grace shrugged. “In my next relationship—if there is one—I’m not doing any asking. I’m going to be asked.”
“You won’t even ask him how was his day?” Declan deadpanned.
Grace laughed again. “You are funny, Declan O’Grady.”
He didn’t know how true that was, but at least she was laughing.
“But seriously, of course I would ask those questions, just not the bigger ones.”
“Like, ‘Will you marry me?’”
Grace didn’t say anything at first, just blinked, but she quickly recovered. “Yes, yes, that’s exactly it.”
“Hopefully you won’t meet someone again who’s afraid to ask the important questions.”
“Considering that I already was with someone who couldn’t ask me any important questions, I’d say the odds are with me.”
“I’d say so, too.” Declan leaned against the bar and became thoughtful. “Have you heard from him?” he asked casually, wondering if the eejit would come to his senses and make a reappearance in her life.
“No, not a word.” She laughed. She should do more of that, he thought. Smiling transformed her and really did make her look like a film star. Plus, she had beautiful teeth. “I really thought he’d come back within a day or two and say he’d made a mistake and that we could elope or something.” Grace sipped her drink. “Or even a text. But there’s been nothing. It’s been total radio silence.”
“I know it sounds trite, but it’s his loss,” Declan said. It wasn’t because she was beautiful; it was because she was a human being. To humiliate her like that in front of a crowd and not even have the decency to call it off beforehand. Good riddance to bad rubbish, as his gran would say.
“So, not to change the subject but to do exactly that,” Grace said with a smile. “How long did you say you’ve been in Australia?”
“Almost ten years,” he said.
“Do you like it?”
He nodded. “I really do. It’s a great country, but I miss home and my family terribly.” He chose not to mention his earlier conversation with John; he didn’t want to jinx himself or his chances.
“It’s a long way away,” Grace agreed. She raised her glass and clinked it against his. “I hope you find your way back home someday soon,” she said softly.
He smiled, looked thoughtful, and added, “And I hope you find someone who’ll ask you the important questions.”
“Hear, hear!” She laughed and clinked his glass again.
They finished their drinks and Declan glanced at his phone. “It’s time for the rest of the tour.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you,” she said, putting her glass down and picking up her purse.
Declan laughed. “Relax, Grace Kelly. I was just noting the time. I wasn’t trying to push you out the door.” He paused and added, “Thanks for the company, I enjoyed it.”
Grace tilted her head to one side and her cheeks were tinged with pink. “Me too.”
Declan left some bills on the bar and they headed toward the exit. He held the door for her and asked as she went through it, “You said you head back to the States on Tuesday?”
“Yes. On Monday morning, I’m taking the train up to Dublin and then flying home on Tuesday,” she replied.
“Right,” Declan answered, his mind a flurry of thoughts. And possibilities. “Then let’s make sure you have a great time this weekend.”
Grace gave him a half smile and was about to respond when they were interrupted by a shout.
“Declan! Yoo-hoo! We’re over here,” called Mrs. Robinson.
“Yoo-hoo?” whispered Declan to Grace as he waved a hand to Mrs. Robinson. “What is that?”
Grace giggled and they walked over to the rest of the group. As they approached and the rest of the group caught sight of them
together, Mrs. Robinson exchanged a knowing look with Mrs. Peete.
Chapter Five
Grace had seen the looks the others had given her and Declan when they’d arrived together at the meetup place from the Horse and Hound. She hadn’t meant to give anyone the wrong impression. She had simply shared a beverage—a non-alcoholic one at that—and some conversation with him. But there were always going to be some people who would jump to conclusions, and there was nothing she could do about that.
Her intention had never been to tell anyone her sad tale. Especially while she was here on vacation. But Declan was such a good listener and had such an open and honest face that her story had just spilled out of her. Her raw honesty surprised even her.
His accent made him exotic, his looks made him desirable, and his kindness made him almost irresistible. It was a heady combination. Sitting in her seat at the back of the bus for the fifteen-minute ride, Grace bit her bottom lip as she made the decision to avoid Declan at all costs for the rest of the night. Maybe even the rest of the trip. She needed a romantic entanglement like she needed a rash on her face.
Once they landed at the pub, Grace could hear the music spilling out from inside as soon as she stepped off the bus. The pub was housed in a three-story building just outside of town. The façade downstairs was painted an enameled black, and there were terraced windows above. “O’Reilly’s,” the name of the pub, shone in gold lettering under a row of exterior lights. Flowerboxes on the upstairs window held bright red geraniums grouped with blue lobelia and trailing variegated ivy. There were small tables set up outside but these were now empty.
Grace, in an attempt to stay as far away as possible from Declan, tried to outmaneuver the rest of the group and headed to the front, but Declan was at her side.
He was greeted by the barman from behind the bar. “Declan!”
“Hey, Jimmy!” Declan said and shook his hand. He said to the group, “Jimmy’s an old friend of mine.”
Her Great Irish Escape Page 5
