I had been so intent on watching the horses that I hadn’t been paying attention to what was happening on the other side of the lane. I turned and saw that the high wall had disappeared to the left. There was now a dense stand of woodland beside the road and among the trees I spotted a house, or rather cottage. It too was built of gray stone but had a depressing look to it, with small windows and overhanging eves. Witch’s house from the Brothers Grimm came into my mind. I would not have wanted to live there. But smoke was coming from the chimney, which must mean someone was living there now. I took a deep breath and followed the flagstone path that wound between the trees to the front door.

I had rehearsed my speech so many times during the past twenty-four hours. “Hello, Darcy. I’m here and I love you and I’m not leaving so don’t try to make me. I want to do anything I can to help you.”

I repeated it once more as I approached the front door. I lifted the big black knocker and brought it down with a resounding crash. At the sound, rooks rose cawing from nearby trees. The front door opened and I found myself staring not at Darcy but at an older version of himself. The dark curls were tinged with gray, the face had deep frown lines etched onto the brow, and the mouth turned down at the corners. Those lines turned to a scowl when he saw me.

“What the devil do you think you’re doing here?” he demanded. “How did you even know that I’d come home? Damn and curse you blasted reporters. If you don’t get out of my sight this very minute I might well consider committing a second murder. After all, you can only hang once.”

Any sensible speech had deserted me. He looked truly frightening, his eyes blazing with anger, and I well believed that he could kill without thinking twice about it.

“You don’t understand, Lord Kilhenny,” I stammered, because my heart was still beating really fast. “I’m not a reporter. I didn’t even know you would be here. I came to see your son.”

“Darcy?” he demanded. “And what might you want with my son?”

What should I say now? Obviously not that Darcy and I had been about to get married. I tried to think of something reasonable but my brain still refused to work. Then the need to come up with a reply was taken from me. There were footsteps in the dark hallway beyond and a voice demanded, “Georgie? What are you doing here?”

Chapter 12

MONDAY, DECEMBER 3

FINALLY AT KILHENNY, COUNTY KILDARE, IRELAND.