Building From Ashes
Page 11
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“I know your opinion. No need to state it again.”
Deirdre said, “When you took your vows, you were a married man. And you were mortal. It was the church that changed. Not you.”
“I changed, as well,” he said quietly.
“Nevertheless,” Ioan said, “you have devoted a thousand years to them. A thousand years to your family and your faith. I’m only saying that if there was anyone who deserved to be happy—”
“And who says I’m not?” Carwyn smiled. “Why is it that married people always think their friends can’t be happy unless they’re shackled as they are? Irritating children, you are. Both of you.”
Ioan turned his face up to Deirdre. “Shackle me, my love.”
Deirdre only rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
“Best torture in the world, to be shackled to a beautiful woman who drives you crazy,” he continued. “Sign me up again. Sign me up for another four hundred years, Father!”
Carwyn cleared his throat. “Well, if the conversation has turned to shackles, I think that’s my cue to retire.”
Ioan laughed, and Deirdre punched her husband’s arm. “Enough, both of you. And, Ioan, Carwyn will do whatever makes him happy. Besides, when has he ever taken our advice about anything?”
“There was that time in the 1780s—”
“Carwyn,” Deirdre interrupted with a laugh, “is your ship leaving out of Dublin or Waterford?”
“Terry has a boat leaving Dublin, going to New York. O’Brian is storing my bike for me, so I’ll drive cross-country from there. I’ll ring you both when I’m in Los Angeles with B. She says she has a safe place for me to stay. Otherwise, I’ll work something out with Alvarez. He owes me, anyway. Why do you ask?”
For once, Deirdre looked unsure. “I was wondering if you’d have time to check on Brigid Connor when you were in town. She’s staying at Parliament House this summer, and I just wanted—”
“Deirdre.” Ioan’s voice was a quiet warning.
“What?” Carwyn saw her temper spike. “Sinead says she thinks something seemed wrong the last time she talked to Brigid. And with her staying in Dublin all summer—”
“She’s going for summer term. She’s very serious about her studies. You two worry too much.”
“This is her first summer away from home.”
Ioan huffed. “She’s a grown woman.”
“She’s twenty!”
Ioan’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh? I had no idea. May I point out, technically, so are you?”
“It’s not the same, and you know it. All my sisters were married by the time they were sixteen. I was a grown woman at twenty when I turned.”
“You’re right. And your childhood was blessedly uneventful. Brigid’s gone through far more than you ever did, Deirdre.”
“Exactly. I have every right to be worried.”
“But not every right to treat her like a child. Have some faith in—”
Carwyn broke into the growing argument. “Why don’t I just meet her for a drink when I’m in town?” Ioan and Deirdre both stopped and looked at him. “I’ll meet her for a drink. No interrogation. I know I don’t know the girl all that well, but I’m happy to say hello and check if anything seems unusual.”
Deirdre smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Sinead and I—”
“Worry too much,” Ioan muttered, but he nodded at Carwyn. “Still, good of you to meet her and it’s good to remind Murphy whose aegis she’s under, just in case he’s interested.”
Carwyn chuckled. “Now who’s worrying?”
Ioan said, “Are you joking? You know how much he’d like to form some kind of tie to Deirdre’s and my clan. I can’t blame him; it would be an excellent political move.”
“We don’t have any single daughters,” Deirdre said. “But he knows that Brigid is family.”
“You think Murphy might be interested in Brigid?” Carwyn shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. As long as she liked him, I suppose.”
It was Deirdre who smiled. “And what woman wants to be desired for her connections? You old men. She deserves to have someone who’s crazy for her. Mad in love. That’s what a woman wants.”
Carwyn turned puppy dog eyes on Deirdre. “And that is why I shall remain the eternal bachelor. For what woman could truly appreciate my stunning good looks?”
“Not again,” Deirdre said.
Ioan nodded. “And your Hawaiian shirt collection.”
“My noble devotion to beer and professional wrestling.”
“And your dogs,” Ioan added. “Don’t forget your dogs.”
Deirdre sighed. “Why do I ever try to have a serious conversation with the two of you?”
Dublin, Ireland
June 2005
Carwyn leaned against the grimy walls of the Ha’Penny Bridge Inn, waiting for Brigid Connor to show. He’d stopped by Parliament House the evening before and left a note with the guards in front telling her to meet him at the old pub near the river. Much of the older part of Dublin had been updated in the previous years, but the Ha’Penny had stayed relatively old-fashioned and didn’t cater to as many tourists as most of the bars in the city center. Though it was only June, the buzz and bustle of the summer crowds were already filling the evening streets, even on a Wednesday night.
Deirdre said, “When you took your vows, you were a married man. And you were mortal. It was the church that changed. Not you.”
“I changed, as well,” he said quietly.
“Nevertheless,” Ioan said, “you have devoted a thousand years to them. A thousand years to your family and your faith. I’m only saying that if there was anyone who deserved to be happy—”
“And who says I’m not?” Carwyn smiled. “Why is it that married people always think their friends can’t be happy unless they’re shackled as they are? Irritating children, you are. Both of you.”
Ioan turned his face up to Deirdre. “Shackle me, my love.”
Deirdre only rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
“Best torture in the world, to be shackled to a beautiful woman who drives you crazy,” he continued. “Sign me up again. Sign me up for another four hundred years, Father!”
Carwyn cleared his throat. “Well, if the conversation has turned to shackles, I think that’s my cue to retire.”
Ioan laughed, and Deirdre punched her husband’s arm. “Enough, both of you. And, Ioan, Carwyn will do whatever makes him happy. Besides, when has he ever taken our advice about anything?”
“There was that time in the 1780s—”
“Carwyn,” Deirdre interrupted with a laugh, “is your ship leaving out of Dublin or Waterford?”
“Terry has a boat leaving Dublin, going to New York. O’Brian is storing my bike for me, so I’ll drive cross-country from there. I’ll ring you both when I’m in Los Angeles with B. She says she has a safe place for me to stay. Otherwise, I’ll work something out with Alvarez. He owes me, anyway. Why do you ask?”
For once, Deirdre looked unsure. “I was wondering if you’d have time to check on Brigid Connor when you were in town. She’s staying at Parliament House this summer, and I just wanted—”
“Deirdre.” Ioan’s voice was a quiet warning.
“What?” Carwyn saw her temper spike. “Sinead says she thinks something seemed wrong the last time she talked to Brigid. And with her staying in Dublin all summer—”
“She’s going for summer term. She’s very serious about her studies. You two worry too much.”
“This is her first summer away from home.”
Ioan huffed. “She’s a grown woman.”
“She’s twenty!”
Ioan’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh? I had no idea. May I point out, technically, so are you?”
“It’s not the same, and you know it. All my sisters were married by the time they were sixteen. I was a grown woman at twenty when I turned.”
“You’re right. And your childhood was blessedly uneventful. Brigid’s gone through far more than you ever did, Deirdre.”
“Exactly. I have every right to be worried.”
“But not every right to treat her like a child. Have some faith in—”
Carwyn broke into the growing argument. “Why don’t I just meet her for a drink when I’m in town?” Ioan and Deirdre both stopped and looked at him. “I’ll meet her for a drink. No interrogation. I know I don’t know the girl all that well, but I’m happy to say hello and check if anything seems unusual.”
Deirdre smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Sinead and I—”
“Worry too much,” Ioan muttered, but he nodded at Carwyn. “Still, good of you to meet her and it’s good to remind Murphy whose aegis she’s under, just in case he’s interested.”
Carwyn chuckled. “Now who’s worrying?”
Ioan said, “Are you joking? You know how much he’d like to form some kind of tie to Deirdre’s and my clan. I can’t blame him; it would be an excellent political move.”
“We don’t have any single daughters,” Deirdre said. “But he knows that Brigid is family.”
“You think Murphy might be interested in Brigid?” Carwyn shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. As long as she liked him, I suppose.”
It was Deirdre who smiled. “And what woman wants to be desired for her connections? You old men. She deserves to have someone who’s crazy for her. Mad in love. That’s what a woman wants.”
Carwyn turned puppy dog eyes on Deirdre. “And that is why I shall remain the eternal bachelor. For what woman could truly appreciate my stunning good looks?”
“Not again,” Deirdre said.
Ioan nodded. “And your Hawaiian shirt collection.”
“My noble devotion to beer and professional wrestling.”
“And your dogs,” Ioan added. “Don’t forget your dogs.”
Deirdre sighed. “Why do I ever try to have a serious conversation with the two of you?”
Dublin, Ireland
June 2005
Carwyn leaned against the grimy walls of the Ha’Penny Bridge Inn, waiting for Brigid Connor to show. He’d stopped by Parliament House the evening before and left a note with the guards in front telling her to meet him at the old pub near the river. Much of the older part of Dublin had been updated in the previous years, but the Ha’Penny had stayed relatively old-fashioned and didn’t cater to as many tourists as most of the bars in the city center. Though it was only June, the buzz and bustle of the summer crowds were already filling the evening streets, even on a Wednesday night.
