IrishAllure Read Free Page A

chair. Crap. She should
have kept her big fat mouth shut.
    “Come on then,” Fin said gently. “Let’s not talk about such
things. Are you finished? How about a walk in the gardens?” Relief flooded her,
and she smiled again.
    “Sure.”
    Fin gestured for the bill and, when it came, signed it to
his room. Jillian had wondered momentarily if she should protest. After all,
for her it was a tax write-off. Her hand had twitched toward the little tray,
and Fin had drawn it out of her reach. Okay then.
    As they left the restaurant, he offered her his arm, and her
heart went pitty-pat. How gentlemanly. She took it and felt her insides go
melty at his warmth. They wandered out to the lovely garden. God, this place
is perfect. Maybe she should consider offering destination wedding
packages.
    She asked Fin what he thought.
    “Why not? For me, I don’t see the fuss, but I imagine a lot
of women would want to marry in an Irish castle. And you don’t need to pre-book
anything, do you? So it’s not like you’d be out of pocket if nobody did.”
    He had a point.
    They wandered around the kitchen garden and past the maze,
then paused at a high stone wall. “What’s this?” Jillian reached out and
touched the cool, rough stone.
    “The rose garden. The gate is this way.” Fin led her several
meters down the wall, where a wrought-iron gate stood open, and then gestured
for her to enter.
    Even in the washed-out moonlight, the garden was stunning.
Roses climbed the stone walls, formed arbors, crept over rocks. The heady
fragrance wafted through the evening air. The path winding through the garden
widened periodically, allowing room for stone benches and mosaic tables.
    “Oh—this is amazing!” Jillian turned and grabbed Fin’s arm.
“Does it look this good in daylight?”
    “Better.” He took her hand and gently nudged her toward one
of the benches. “What do you know about the castle’s history?”
    Jillian sat. “Not much. I know the original castle is
medieval, and that it was extended in the mid-nineteenth century, and then
converted to a hotel about twenty years ago.”
    “Mm, well, there’s quite a lot more, but this garden was
built when the Victorian renovation was done. The owner at the time, Sir
Charles Chichester, had it put in for his wife Maude. She was pregnant at the
time and liked to sit amongst the roses in the afternoons.”
    “You know a lot about the castle,” Jillian commented,
shivering a little in the gentle evening breeze.
    “I read the little booklet in my room. Come on then, you’re
cold.” Fin slung an arm around her shoulders and she shivered again at the
contact. The night air had cleared her head, which meant she couldn’t blame her
reaction on the alcohol. Be professional. He’s your client’s brother. “What else can you tell me?” She asked to distract herself, and forced her
attention to his description of the castle’s heritage.
    When they entered the hotel through a side door, Fin steered
her down a narrow corridor in the Victorian wing. “Where are we going?” she
asked him.
    “There’s a small lift back here. It’s closer than the foyer,
and I think you’ll like it. It was installed in 1901, and it’s lovely.”
    “Would it make for good photos?” Jillian considered how a
hundred-something-year-old elevator would look against Marianna’s modern
wedding gown. The contrast might be striking. She’d have to suggest it to the
photographer.
    “I’m not so good with that,” Fin confessed, “but have a look
and tell me what you think.” He gestured ahead of them, and there it was, with
the old-fashioned half-moon dial above displaying the floor numbers, and the
elegant wrought-iron door.
    He pressed the call button, and moments later the lift
rattled down and the door opened. “It doesn’t see as much use as the main lifts
do, but I’ve decided I prefer it. The staff has some interesting stories about
it too.” He led her in. “What floor are you on?”
    She