“A hundred years’ lease is our offer.”

“A hundred?” Darcy’s eyes popped wide, and Aidan merely looked at his wife.

“A hundred’s the number of magic.”

“This is business, not fairy spells.”

“You use the fairies where you find them.” Shawn added a drop of whiskey to his tea. It seemed to go with these dealings. “If Magee is forward-thinking, a lease of a hundred years will appeal to him. Brenna knows something of his company.” He caught Darcy’s jerk to attention out of the corner of his eye at his mention of Brenna. “From what she told me, he’s a fair man, but far from green himself. So I’m thinking he’ll look even beyond the century.”

“As should we. A pound a year for a hundred years.”

“A pound?” Darcy threw up her hands. “Why not just give him the bloody land, then?”

“For that price we ask for fifty percent of his theater.”

Darcy settled again, her eyes sharpening. “And settle for?”

“Twenty. And at the end of the term the land, and the theater, are owned, equal shares. Gallagher and Magee.”

“It’s a sweet deal if the theater takes hold.” Darcy agreed. “And leaning heavily in our direction.”

“It’ll take hold,” Aidan said with a gleam in his eye. “With Gallagher luck and Magee money.”

“I’m willing to trust that. Now, why should he agree to those terms?”

“I—” Jude started to speak, then closed her mouth.

“No, have your say.” Aidan gave her hand a squeeze. “You’re part of this.”

“Well, I think he will agree. After some negotiations and posturing and perhaps a few more adjustments. You may have to give a bit more, but in the end you’ll have fairly close to what you’re after—because in the end, all parties want the same thing.”

“Magee wants his theater,” Darcy put in.

“More than that.” In an automatic gesture, Jude slapped Shawn’s hand before he could sneak Finn a biscuit. “He has a reason for choosing this place, and the kind of man who helms that successful a business can indulge himself from time to time. His people came from here,” she went on. “His great-uncle was engaged to my great-aunt.”

“Of course.” Shawn tapped a finger against the whiskey bottle as it came to him. “John Magee who was lost in the first great war. His youngest brother—Dennis, was it—went off to America to make his fortune. I didn’t put it together before now.”

“I don’t know how much sentiment is in the motive for this Magee selecting Ardmore,” Jude went on, “but it’s bound to be part of the motivation. If this Magee had anything like my background, he grew up on stories of Ireland, and of this area in particular. Now he wants a more tangible tie with the place his family came from. I understand that.”

“That Yank sentiment over ancestors.” Amused, Darcy helped herself to the whiskey. “I’ll never understand it. Ancestors . . . sure and they’ve been dead for long years, haven’t they? But if sentiment helps glue the deal, that’s fine with me.”