by Fiona Starr
Forever My Love
An Ireland Forever Short Story
Fiona Starr
Copyright © 2019 by Fiona Starr
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
More Ireland Forever Stories…
The Blaze Family Romance Collection
The Flirt Club!
About Fiona Starr
MADELINE
I am so done looking for the fairy tale. Been there, done that, got the white dress, veil, and all the rest—in fact, it’s still in a crumpled mess on the floor of my closet back home. I should burn it; maybe then I’ll stop feeling like such a fool.
It’s bad enough Peter was only marrying me for my family’s money, but the fact that he was also engaged to someone else—and they planned to just carry on with their secret life while enjoying the lifestyle I provided, with me totally in the dark was too much—the humiliation was complete.
I run through our two years together and try to pin-point moments in my memory where I might have been given clues. Had there been signs? There had to be, right? Should I have known? Oh God, did anyone else know and not tell me?
I didn’t stick around long enough to find out.
Lacy, my best friend and would-be maid of honor called me the night everything fell apart and insisted I escape Colorado and join her in Dublin. She’s there for some big VIP weekend celebrating the launch of Blackthorn’s new album tour. The promoter is her sorority sister and a bunch of them were going to be there. Lacy has had her eye on the lead singer, Sean Black, since forever and she is determined to make the most of her connections and finally meet him.
“I’m not in the mood for people, Lace,” I say as I spoon mouthfuls of strawberry ice cream straight from the container.
“You can skip the parties, Maddie. Just come. The place is booked solid, but you can stay in my room—with any luck I won’t be spending much time there, if you know what I mean.” She giggles.
Just hearing her voice makes me feel better. “You’re so bad.”
“Yeah, but this time I have help. Janie’s going to arrange a private meeting for me and Sean Black himself.” The tone of her voice pops an image of her waggling her eyebrows into my head.
I smile at her excitement but still, I push back. Traveling sounds exhausting right now. “I don’t know.”
“Aw, hon. You need to get away from everything—and everyone back there. You should see the castle Janie’s booked for us. It’s enough to get lost in.”
She knows as well as I do this is exactly what I need. Getting lost in Ireland sounds like the perfect way to forget everything, at least for a little while.
My driver pulls the car through a wrought-iron gate and up a winding country lane. I can already feel Peter and my embarrassment fading ever so slightly into the background. Trees and greenery close in as the lane narrows and falls into shadow. Nobody here knows what happened. Nobody I’ll meet this weekend will know I am a complete idiot. I’ve managed to put thousands of miles and an ocean between me and my drama.
The light changes as the trees thin, and the overcast sky glows bright enough to tease us with some sun. The driver eases the car through another gate and turns right, giving me my first glimpse of Castle Glenkerry. It’s like something out of a movie. The pale gray stone house is massive and surrounded by manicured gardens with hedge walls and trees that disappear around the back of the castle. The front lawn is terraced for hundreds of yards that lead down to a wide pond.
We pull to a stop outside the main entrance and as I step out of the car, I feel like I’ve stepped back in time. The sensation is uncanny. A man dressed in black tie with a baby blue vest greets me and takes my bags.
“Greetings, Miss. Welcome to Glenkerry. Are ye here celebrating with the Blackthorn lads then?” His voice has a lyrical quality to it that makes me smile.
“I am. Though I think I’ll skip most of the parties and keep to myself.”
I follow him inside.
“Then you’ll be glad to know the festivities are happening down in town, for the most part. There are a few small gatherings planned at the estate, but I think you’ll have the place to yourself during the days. You’ve an itinerary in your room.” He places my bags next to the front desk and grins as he leans in conspiratorially. “But if it’s quiet you seek, you’ll find the north gardens especially pleasing.”
“Thank you.” I smile as I hand him a tip and wait for the front desk clerk to wave me over.
GERARD
“There’s no way around it, Gerry. And if you want my advice…” My solicitor’s voice is calm and steady through the phone.
I sigh as I grip the steering wheel. “I know what you’re going to say, Allen. I don’t like it. It isn’t right.”
“You’re too stubborn for your own good, my friend. And if you recall, your stubbornness is what got you into this mess in the first place. If you’d listened to me when I…”
I nod, though I am alone in the car. It’s the same old thing, every time. “I know, I know… I should have listened to you and made her sign a prenup. I should always listen to you, oh Wise One.”
“Now that’s why you’re my favorite client.” I hear the smile in his voice. “Look, without a prenup, you’re screwed. And unless you sit down and come to a settlement with her now, she’s never going to stop. Her new solicitor is a bulldog and the two of them are ravenous.”
I feel my jaw clench. I’m afraid to ask. “What’s she want this time?”
“Fifty.”
I nearly run off the road. The nerve of this woman knows no bounds. “Fifty? What is that… one million for every week we were married?”
“Just about.”
“Jesus, Allen. Is there nothing that can be done?”
“She’s playing the game, Gerry. And I advise you to do the same. She knows she won’t get fifty. Surprise her. Offer her twenty-five, but this time make it contingent on signing away any claim to future funds. C’mon, you won’t even feel it.”
I enter Glenkerry through the main gate and remember too late that there’s an event this weekend that booked the whole place. Their trucks will be blocking the east road. I turn left and head around the west side to my residence. “Gah! It’s not the money. Well, it’s the money a little. But it’s the principal, Allen. She played me. She’s a terrible person and I can’t let her win.”
“She’s a terrible person who has you by the balls. She’s been chipping away, taking more and more from you at every turn. It will never stop unless you do something about it.”
I pull into my parking space and turn off the car. “She doesn’t deserve another cent.”
“Nonetheless, at this rate she’ll bleed you dry. It’s time to cut her off.”
I close my eyes. I want to fight the defeat rippling through my gut. Giving my ex anything absolutely kills me, but I know he’s right. I grip the wheel. “I’ll think about it.”
“Ring me when you decide.”
I toss my phone on the seat and I am out of the car, storming toward the house. The fury ragi
ng inside me makes me feel dangerous. I need to hit something. I need to release whatever’s inside me before I go bleedin’ crazy.
As the bracing air hits me I realize I’m still wearing my ceremonial kilt and dress shirt from standing in as Master of Ceremonies at the Historical Society induction this morning, but I don’t care. I need to get this out of me and clear my head before I explode.
MADELINE
Lacy’s room is spectacular. She’s got a corner suite with a living room, bedroom, and a huge stone balcony that overlooks a lush meadow and a single green mountain in the distance. The room is decorated in pale blue and gray with gold accents. Everything is upholstered, soft, and fabulous. There’s a gigantic gift basket on the coffee table, with a note addressed to Lacy sticking out from it.
Hello darling!
Welcome to Dublin! I hope you have the BEST time. Hope to catch up, but I’m busy as balls, so if we don’t, know that I love you.
Enjoy the castle, and the show!
xx Janie
I’ve heard a lot about Janie Locke from Lacy through the years. She sounds like a hilarious badass who lives large and loves to throw a good party. It doesn’t hurt that she has the coolest job on the planet. As the manager and promoter for the biggest name in rock right now, she is probably every bit as impressive as she sounds.
Next to the basket, there’s an itinerary of events for the weekend. Janie’s guests are invited to sit in at a photo shoot, attend a lunch with the band, attend sound checks… Janie’s arranged for a fantastic weekend for everyone. I’m not interested in any of it. I just need to decompress.
I move into the bedroom and find an envelope with my name on it on the pillow. I slip it open to find a sheet of hotel stationery.
Maddie,
I’m in Dublin at the arena today with Janie and the band, hoping to get some time with you-know-who!
I won’t be back your way until this evening. Drinks later? I’ll text you when I’m back. Everyone’s going to a big pre-show party in the city… I’m told the village pub should be pretty quiet for us.
Can’t wait to see you and give you a squeeze! My room is your room… settle in and order room service.
Kisses!
L
I shake my head at how tenacious Lacy is when she sets her mind to something. Sean Black better watch out.
I wander through the rooms and when I step into the master bathroom, I stop in my tracks. The antique claw tub sits in an alcove surrounded by windows. Heavy drapes hang from the ceiling and can be pulled to conceal the tub. Next to the tub, a small wooden table holds baskets of scented soaps, bath salts, and oils.
I turn on the water and choose a flowery smelling bath bomb, dropping it into the tub. Then I untie the drapes until I’m enclosed in a cocoon of velvet and silk. I peel off my clothes and feel as though I’m shedding the last layer of my mess of a life. When I sink into the bath, I let Peter, his scheme, my canceled wedding, and all my shame disappear.
Okay. So it takes about fifteen minutes in the bath and I’m over-steamed and bored to tears. I grab a robe off the hook, wrap myself in the plush fabric, and pad over to the glass doors of the balcony. I step outside and let the cool air bring me back to life.
It really is so peaceful here. The room is so quiet you’d never know all these people were staying the weekend. But I guess everyone is down in Dublin with the band at the moment. I lean on the stone ledge and take in the view. The single mountain in the distance is a tiny hill compared to the Colorado Rockies, but it’s lovely and green and the little village in the valley at its base looks like a postcard.
There’s a path running along the pond through the woods on the side of the grounds. I follow it with my eyes, leaning over to catch where it turns near the castle. It disappears around the bend, but from this angle, I can just make out a bush covered in pink colored flowers.
I have no idea what the foliage schedule is like in Ireland, but it seems odd; nothing else is flowering around here. The weather isn’t quite warm and so it feels a little too early for such vibrant blooms. The bellman’s words echo in my mind and now I’m curious to take a look at the gardens.
I unpack my suitcase, throw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, and slip on my boots. I double check that I have my room key and step out into the hall, suddenly eager to explore the grounds.
GERARD
I curse my ex with each blow of the axe. As the chunk of cedar splinters and splits, I line up another piece of cordwood on the chopping block and take a swing.
“That one’s for you, you scheming, evil woman.” I spit the words through gritted teeth as the axe lands. I thought she loved me. I thought when I met her that she was The One. I thought she was someone I could spend my life with. I thought she wanted me.
I stand more wood on the block and swing again, harder. “And that one’s for you, Gerry, you idiot.” I blame her for what she did, for what she’s still doing, but I also blame myself. I was so desperate, so eager to settle down that I let her blind me. She’s a brilliant actress, I’ll give her that, but I let my guard down too quickly. And, I ignored the warnings from Allen.
I stand another piece of wood on the block and swing away, letting my anger surge through my back and down my arms and into the axe. “You’re a spider and I am a fool for getting caught in your web.” Sweat stings my eyes and runs down between my shoulders.
I undo the buttons on my shirt and take it off, using it to wipe my face. Then I toss it aside and grab another piece of wood and strike again. “For you, conniving liar.” I can’t bring myself to say her name. It’s poison on my lips and I won’t give her that satisfaction.
“Devious.” She had the whole thing planned from the start. She wheedled her way into my heart like a worm into an apple and when the time was right, she struck.
I was a fool. I see it now but despite all the anger, I can’t let go of the sense of loss, too. I loved her. I thought I did, anyway. Now I have no idea how I trust anyone… especially myself. She’s ruined everything.
The axe falls again. “I hate you.” The wood splits and flies in different directions. I line up another and another, and I keep on going.
MADELINE
There’s a paved walking path that weaves around the castle, guiding guests through the manicured gardens. The plants are tidy and green, and there are winterberry bushes giving splashes of color here and there. It’s lovely now, but it must be spectacular in spring and summer when everything is in bloom.
I look up at my balcony three stories above me and try to gauge the location of the garden I saw from up there, and use that as my guide whenever the path forks. I keep walking until my path stops at a hedge wall. There’s nowhere else to go. I retrace my steps to make sure I haven’t missed a turn, but as I test each fork, it brings me back south, toward the front of the property, when I want to head north.
Turning back toward the hedge wall, I notice an old cobblestone path moving east along the hedge. The stones are dark and covered in moss and leaves, clearly very old and well hidden in the trees. I push the leafy ferns aside and sure enough, the path continues. There are no signs anywhere me to stay on the walking path, but I feel like I’m breaking a rule and embarking on a treasure hunt.
I can’t resist the thrill moving through my veins. I feel alive and interested in something for the first time in weeks. It seems like forever since I’ve actually breathed, and the air in the woods is lush and cool, and full of life. I let the excitement take me. I look over my shoulder to make sure nobody sees me, and then I step into the shadow of the woods.
A hundred yards or so into my walk, the hedge takes a left turn and so does the path. I feel like a kid exploring with wonder and awe as I continue to follow it. The sense of stepping back in time returns and I go with it, pretending that I’m not Madeline Blaze, that there is no Peter, and my entire family isn’t reeling after I canceled my wedding with only two weeks to go. I can almost imagine it never happened, that the crushing humi
liation belongs to someone else. Not me. It can’t be mine… I’m so far away…
After another minute, the cobblestones fork. One path seems to continue along the hedge wall while the other turns toward the hedge itself. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I realize there’s an arch cut out of the hedge and a wooden door stands in its place. I test the latch. It’s unlocked. I pull the door open, letting it swing wide as I step through the arch.
Inside the gate, the trees are gone and the sky is afternoon bright. The hedge is covered with clusters of tiny flowers in all shades of red and pink and white. I pluck a cluster and lift it to my nose to smell it when I stop and gape at the vision standing in front of me.
I blink and look around, wondering if maybe there is henge nearby—a circle of magic stones that I’ve actually fallen through and somehow landed a couple hundred years in the past.
The man in front of me is shirtless. He’s wearing only a kilt and wool socks with blue ribbons peeking out of the folds at his knee. The laces of his shiny leather shoes wrap around his calves, and the tassels swing back and forth as he moves.
He has dark hair and his sweaty body gleams in the daylight as he chops wood with an axe. Muscles ripple in his back and his arms. He has a tattoo wrapping around his hip and disappearing under his kilt. He growls each time he swings the axe. I can’t make out his words. The wood splits and he bends down and grabs another piece, setting it up for another round. He does it again. His rhythm so smooth and fluid, it’s like he’s in a trance.