The Librarian's Treasure

by Katherine H Brown

  Raegan gawked. The way he said that last bit, it didn’t sound at all like a compliment.

  Charm oozed from Lord Donovan like honey oozed from a bottle, thick and sticky, covering everything. If she hadn’t witnessed the transformation on his face from harsh to polite, she would have thought he was just the kindest soul ever. As it was, he gave her the creeps.

  “It is lovely to meet you,” she managed to say. She refused to address his comments about her grandfather, her mother, or her being the heir.

  “Well, no matter where you came from, I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Oh?” Raegan’s mouth formed around the word slowly. It was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

  “Yes. I’ve been attempting to buy the castle for several years now, but I kept hitting red tape. I’ll give you two hundred and ten thousand euro. Today.” Lord Donovan extracted a checkbook from his breast pocket. “I’ll even escort you back to the train or bus, whichever you prefer, as I didn’t see any particular conveyance outside.”

  Raegan stared, her brain working overtime to process the outrageous man’s proposal. The villager, Shauna, had mentioned Lord Donovan’s interest in the property, but she hadn’t expected him to approach her to buy it.

  “Would you spell your first name for me?” Lord Donovan had a pen poised over the checkbook.

  The high-handed offer and outrageous assumption that she would sell to him on less than one conversation irked her. Raegan shifted forward and stood, placing weight on her good leg only. Her scowl covered her wince, at least she hoped it did.

  “I’m afraid I’m not looking to sell at the moment. I’ve only just arrived, and I’d like to see the place and consider my options before I make a decision as to whether or not I’ll be staying.”

  Staying. Raegan surprised herself with the comment but found in her heart she was already considering it, though the castle interior remained unseen. There was something wild and whimsical about the country that was already taking root in her soul. A soft smile settled on her face as she daydreamed about the possibilities.

  Unfortunately, she was the only one smiling.

  “Options?” Lord Donovan’s smile vanished, wiped away as if by an eraser. He lowered his voice, nostrils flaring once more. “Let me make your options abundantly clear. You can stay and be driven from this ancient pile of stone the hard way, or you can leave with a nice fat check and memories of a lovely holiday to the Irish coast to share with people wherever it is that you came from.” Lord Donovan menaced forward with each word.

  Raegan shrank backward, bumping into the couch and falling onto it.

  Lord Donovan took advantage of her vulnerability, swooping closer. He leaned toward her, white knuckles gripping the checkbook as he waved it at her. “You have three days to make your decision. Each day you delay, I drop twenty thousand euros from my more than generous offer.”

  Raegan couldn’t have answered if she wanted to. Words, normally some of her favorite companions, had abandoned her. She sat stock still, rooted in shock even after Lord Donovan stomped out of the room, the front door slamming shut in his wake.

  Not fifteen seconds later, she heard the door open again. Certain the odious man had returned, Raegan scrambled to her feet. She gritted her teeth, standing tall and firm. Footsteps shuffled toward her, and the murmur of a voice—maybe more than one—made their way to her. She glanced around, wondering if Lord Donovan had gone outside for reinforcements. Throw pillows and a blanket, hand-crocheted by all appearances, were the only items near her. She thought quickly, reaching into her hair and pulling out the shamrock hair comb, the dagger from her father. Wielding it in front of her, she waited.

  “Whoa, there, lass!” A tall, lanky gentlemen at least seventy or better raised his hands in surprise as he stepped into the living area. His brogue was considerably thicker than any she’d heard to that point, even Lorcan’s, and that was saying something.

  Raegan frowned. The man didn’t look like much of a threat. And by his woolen clothes and muddy shoes, she wouldn’t have taken him for an associate of the slicked-back Lord Donovan either.

  Meow.

  Drake rounded the doorframe, and a small ball of fur catapulted from his arms.

  “Nessa,” Raegan exhaled in relief, slipping the comb back into her hair. She lowered herself to the couch and caught the kitten as it climbed awkwardly up her legs and into her lap, cradling it to her chest. “Thank you for finding her.”

  Nessa’s purring was audible; clearly the kitten was grateful to have been found as well. Raegan snuggled her closer.

  “It wasn’t me,” Drake said. “This is Conor. He and Nessa were getting acquainted when I found them. Conor, meet Raegan Sheridan. She’s the one I was telling you about.”

  “A pleasure, it is, lass. Conor O’Malley, at your service.” He pointed a finger at Nessa. “That girl there found me while I was cleaning inside the castle. Must have snuck in to look for mice, but she’ll be mighty disappointed. I don’t tolerate mice.” Conor extended a hand to shake. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve stayed on in the gatehouse. I’m the groundskeeper and keeper of, well, generally everything here since I’m the only one left. Knew your ma, I did. Been lookin’ after the place, hoping someday she’d find her way back here.” He tipped his head. “Sorry for your loss.”

  Raegan’s eyes misted. “You knew her?”

  “Aye, since she was a wee lass.” Conor smiled broadly. “She had her fair share of twisted ankles, too, I remember.” He winked. “If ye think ye can get this strapping young man here to carry you inside, I know where there’s a wheelchair left you can use, and I’ll show ye all of your ma’s portraits in the gallery.”

  Drake did not wait for permission, reaching her in two strides and picking Raegan, and Nessa, up from the couch.

  “Did my old eyes deceive me, or did I see Lord Donovan going out of the gate when we came in, lass?” Conor asked as they crossed the courtyard to the large wooden door on the castle.

  Raegan reflexively tightened her arm around Drake’s neck. “Yes. He dropped by to make sure I knew I would be unwelcomed here.” Her mouth tightened. “Apparently, the man is as dastardly as the rumors we heard.” With a little prompting, she filled the men in on the confrontation in Conor’s living room.

  “Donovan’s never been good at hearing the word no. Thinks he can do whatever he bloody wants, and for the most part, he’s been right.” Conor’s face darkened. “Been a few times I woke to find fire outside the gatehouse and inside the castle. Can’t prove it, mind, but I’d bet me best shovel it was Donovan, the snake.”

  “Why does he want Dún Castle so badly?” Raegan asked, settling into the wheelchair Conor had rolled out of a hall closet. “Does he hope to rent out the property like so many others I’m told he owns in this area?”

  “If only that were the case, lass.” Conor said woefully. “Lord Donovan is a greedy man. He thought your grandfather would leave the castle to him once your mother left. Piddly rents aren’t enough for him. When he looks at this countryside, he doesn’t see beauty, or heritage, nature, or livelihoods. He sees green, but it isn’t the green of the grass, no. The scoundrel wants to build a resort and golf course for the rich and famous.” Conor tucked his thumbs in his pockets. “The only thing holding him back is Dún Castle. Any land he hasn’t already gobbled up is yours, Miss Sheridan. And I’m mighty relieved you’re here. In another month, I think he’d have convinced the county to declare the place abandoned and auction it off to him at a steal.”

  “You still live here, though.”

  “I’m no better than a squatter in the eyes of the law. ‘Tis your castle and your land, not mine.”

  “Hmm.” Raegan chewed thoughtfully on her lip.

  “Ach! Where are me manners?” Conor smiled big enough to light up the dim hallway. “Let’s get to the gallery and the portraits I promised to show ye. Afterward, I’ll give you the grand tour. Come on, lad. I assume you can do the driving?”
/>
  Raegan chuckled as Drake obligingly pushed her wheelchair behind the old man. Conor O’Malley’s flesh might have been weathered and worn, but his spirit was high and warm. Raegan found him to be the kind of person one couldn’t help but like.

  True to his word, Conor showed Raegan each of her mother’s portraits, along with the rest of the family, telling tidbits and anecdotes along the way. She found herself swiping at tears and alternately laughing aloud.

  Going to Dun Castle was everything that she’d hoped and none of the things she had feared. It was as if she could feel her mother, the happiness she’d known in that place. Warmth seeped into her chest, a piece of her past that had been missing finally settling into place. She carried that feeling with her through the rest of the tour.

  Each room was surprisingly tidy. Most of the furniture was in great shape, though some of the curtains and linens had suffered from dust and moths over the years. Conor assumed responsibility, but Raegan rushed to put a stop to his blaming himself.

  “Honestly, everything is in a hundred times better shape than it could be, and I have you to thank for that, Conor. How long has it been empty, anyway?”

  Conor scratched his head. “Close to eight years, if memory serves. After your ma left with your pa, your grandmother withered away from grief. Your grandfather, well, he was stubborn as a mule, maybe two. He refused to even hear your ma’s name mentioned. He didn’t see what it was doing to his wife until it was too late. He shut out the world after that. I brought supplies from town when needed but otherwise didn’t bother him. He eventually drank more and ate less until at last a diet of only liquids claimed his life.” Conor shook his head. “Foul, evil stuff that rots a man’s brains and gives him only the devil for company. I enjoyed a Guinness or three in my younger days, but now, I won’t touch the stuff.”

  Raegan preferred to hide away in books rather than alcohol, so she didn’t have much to say, but she thought she caught Drake stiffen out of the corner of her eye. She remembered what he had told her about his own depression and was glad that he’d put down his mug to seek her out for the League. And speaking of them, she directed a new question to Conor. “Did you know my dad, too?”

  “Aye. A bit. He used to drop in and talk about the plants with me, even bring me seeds for new flowers and vegetables from time to time. He and your ma, they shared a passion for the land, they did.” As he finished talking, they neared the main entrance again. “Well, that’s all that I can show ye today. It’s high time I go find a bite to eat. Care to join me?”

  The mere mention of food made Raegan’s stomach grumble. The long walk there and extended tour after had clearly worked up her appetite. “That sounds heavenly,” she admitted. “But I don’t know that we have the time. It’s quite a long walk back to get the rest of our bags. I didn’t really expect to find the place so hospitable, so I didn’t pack enough to stay the night here.”

  “Nonsense. There’re hours of daylight left, lass. Come break bread with me. Besides, do you really fancy limping your way back over those hills?” Conor strolled off through the courtyard, whistling a merry tune, clearly of no mind to hear refusal.

  “He’s right,” Drake told her. “As long as we eat and don’t dawdle, we should make it back to the pub in plenty of time.”

  “Hello, there,” a female voice greeted as Drake rolled Raegan’s chair near the gatehouse.

  Shauna poked her head in through the big arch. “I see you found the place fine. Oh! Raegan, are you hurt?”

  “It’s only a slight sprain,” Raegan shrugged.

  Conor called from the doorway, “Shauna, me beauty. Just in time for supper. Come inside.”

  And so, their party of four enjoyed a hearty meal of stewed beef and potatoes. By the time the meal had ended, Raegan had been convinced to stay the evening with Shauna while Drake would take a cot at Conor’s small home.

  “The lad can go and get your bags tomorrow,” Conor insisted.

  Shauna agreed, hands planted firmly on wide hips. “Right, he can. You want that ankle to heal quicker, then you best stay off of it at least a day.”

  Seeing that arguments would get her nowhere, Raegan graciously accepted.

  18.

  D rake knocked on Shauna’s door.

  No answer.

  He tried again, louder.

  Still nothing.

  His heartbeat ramped up a bit. What if Shauna had left and Raegan had fallen on her weak ankle and gotten hurt? What if she had left? What if…

  A screech of laughter broke into his tirade of thoughts. Drake followed the sound around the corner of Shauna’s small cottage and found a sight that at first confused him.

  Raegan sat on the garden wall, her wrapped ankle stretched out on the stones before her, the other leg swinging over the side. A handful of children bounced up and down around her, some squealing, others asking a million questions all at once.

  Only after a second look did he see the book in her hands.

  “Good morning,” he called, stepping into the middle of the energetic band of children. “What have we here?”

  “Miss Raegan?” One of the smallest children pulled her thumb from her mouth. “Is he the ogre?”

  “Ogre?” Drake raised an eyebrow.

  Raegan stifled a giggle, giving him a once over before she turned back to the little girl. “He may be the ogre, but I believe he is one of the kindest ogres that I’ve ever met.”

  “And charming,” Drake added. “Don’t forget charming.”

  Raegan rolled her eyes. “Now, where were we?”

  A little boy answered. “The ogre was going to swallow Tom Thumb.”

  “No, Tom was going to kill the ogre,” another argued.

  Drake lowered himself to the wall and listened as Raegan read to the children, her voice enchanting the words and painting lively scenes before his very eyes. The children, too, were awestruck. They leaned forward, eagerly awaiting the turn of each page. They cheered, they gasped, and at the end of the story, they simply begged for more.

  “Tomorrow,” Raegan promised.

  As they watched the children scamper away to various cottages amongst the hills, Drake couldn’t help but smile. He turned to Raegan and was surprised to find her frowning.

  “What’s with the long look?” he asked. “You had those children eating out of your hand.”

  “They’ve never seen one before.”

  “One what?” Drake asked, brows drawing together in confusion. “An ogre? Come now, surely you haven’t seen an ogre either?”

  “A book!” Raegan shook the book of fairy tales in front of him and promptly burst into tears.

  Drake froze.

  Not crying.

  Anything but crying.

  What was he supposed to do? Drake gently patted her leg, hoping if he got Raegan talking again, maybe the crying would stop.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The children from the village.” Raegan rasped out jerky sentences between sniffles. “Their parents live so far from town. The children stay home to help work because rents are so high. They need as much income as they can get. No school. No library. They haven’t ever held a book of their own. They’ve never been read a story and shown pictures and…and…” She buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking.

  Drake rubbed his hand across Raegan’s back, offering the most comfort he could.

  Shauna found them there five minutes later, and Drake lifted his eyes to her, silently beseeching for help as he shrugged and shook his head.

  “Well, what’s this now?” Shauna asked. “We get enough rain in these parts without you getting all weepy on my plants.”

  As if in agreement, the sky opened up, and a light drizzle fell steadily over them all.

  “Come on. Into the house with you both.”

  19.

  A few days later, ankle well-mended, Raegan thanked Shauna for her hospitality.

  “Are you sure you’ll be fine, then?” the kind wo
man asked over a hearty breakfast.

  Raegan laughed. “For the third time, I’m positive. Besides, I’m absolutely dying to explore the castle, and today, I feel well enough to do it. Not even Drake can complain that I haven’t taken enough time to rest and heal.”

  She also knew Drake planned to return to the pub for a few days, so, even if he wanted to harp on her to get extra rest, he wouldn’t be around to witness her explorations anyway. The thought made her both excited and sad. She looked forward to spending time alone in the home of her family, but she was keenly aware of the fact that she’d begun to anticipate seeing Drake each day and would miss him.

  “If you’re sure, then at least let me pack you up a basket of food to take.” Shauna began gathering remnants of ham and potato cakes.

  Armed with her food and a sense of adventure, Raegan departed with a hug not long after. The air was brisk but Raegan enjoyed every step of her walk, even more so after days filled with lounging and keeping her foot elevated. Nessa trotted along beside her, wandering after a butterfly now and then. The kitten stayed much nearer after her big adventure the day they arrived, and Raegan was glad she didn’t have to worry so much about losing her anymore.

  As she drew close, Raegan wasn’t at all surprised to see Conor waiting for her at the great arch in the wall. He and Drake had been frequent visitors to Shauna’s small cottage.

  “Good morning,” Raegan smiled.

  “Morning, lass.” He tipped his hat. “Saw ye comin’ and lit some fires in the castle this morning.”

  “That sounds just heavenly!” Raegan gave the old man a quick hug on impulse. “I’m just going to explore a bit today. Maybe tidy up a little and make a pile of linens to wash. I appreciate all of the work you’ve done to keep this place in good shape. Now it’s my turn to get busy.”