An Outrageous Proposal

by Maureen Child

  “Good idea.” She folded her arms over her chest and tapped the toe of her shoe against the floor in a rapid staccato that sounded like machine gun fire.

  “Fine, then.” He turned, stepped outside and pushed his way through the small crowd until he was out on the street. All he wanted now was to walk off this mad and think things through. He stopped when Georgia called his name and turned to her, hoping—foolishly—that she’d changed her mind.

  She whipped her right arm back and threw her engagement ring at him. It hit Sean dead in the forehead and pain erupted as she shouted, “No engagement. No marriage!”

  She slammed the door to punctuate her less than sensible shout.

  Sean heard someone say, “She’s a good arm on her for all she’s small.”

  Muttering beneath his breath, Sean bent down to pick up the ring and when he straightened, Tim Casey asked, “So, the wedding’ll be delayed, then? If you can keep her angry at you until January, I’ll win the pool.”

  Sean glanced at the closed door of the shop and imagined the furious woman inside. “Shouldn’t be a problem, Tim.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Ailish was sitting in Laura’s front parlor, a twist of disgust on her lips. “Well, it’s happened.”

  “What?” Laura served the older woman a cup of tea, then took one for herself before sitting down on the couch beside her. “What happened?”

  “Just what we’ve been waiting for,” Ailish told her. “I heard from Katie, Sean’s housekeeper, that Mary Donohue told her that not an hour ago, your sister threw her engagement ring at Sean. I’d say that ends the ‘bargain’ you told me about.”

  Laura groaned. Since the phone call with Ailish, when the sly woman had gotten Laura to confess all about Sean’s and Georgia’s ridiculous “deal,” the two of them had been co-conspirators. Sean’s mother was determined to see him married to a “nice” woman and to start giving her grandchildren. Laura was just as determined to see her sister happy and in love. And from what Laura had noted lately, Georgia was in love. With Sean. So, if she could…help, she would.

  But, this new wrinkle in the situation did not bode well.

  Ailish had been convinced that if they simply treated the wedding as a fait accompli, then Sean and Georgia would fall into line. Laura, knowing her sister way better, hadn’t bought it for a minute, but she hadn’t been able to think of anything else, either. So Ailish had ordered a cake, Laura had reserved canvas tenting for the reception and had already made a few calls to caterers in Galway and Westport.

  Not that they would need any of that, now.

  “Then it’s over,” Laura said. “I was really hoping they might actually realize that they belonged together and that it would all work out.”

  “They do belong together,” Ailish said firmly, pausing to take a sip of her tea. “We’re not wrong about that.”

  “It doesn’t really matter what we think though, does it?” Laura shook her head. “Damn it, I knew Georgia was going to end up hurt.”

  Ailish gave a delicate, ladylike snort. “From what I heard, I’d say Sean was the one hurt. That was a very big emerald, and apparently she hit him square in the middle of his forehead.” Nodding, she added, “Perhaps it knocked some sense into the man.”

  “Doubt it,” Laura grumbled, then added, “no offense.”

  “None taken.” Ailish reached out and patted her hand. “I’ve never seen my son so taken with a woman as he is with our Georgia, and by heaven, if he’s too stubborn to see it, then we’ll just have to help the situation along.”

  “What’ve you got in mind?” Laura watched the older woman warily.

  “A few ideas is all,” Ailish said, “but we may need a little help…”

  At that moment, Ronan walked into the room, cradling his baby daughter in his arms. He took one look at the two women with their heads together and made a quick about-face, trying for a stealthy escape.

  “Not one more step, Ronan Connolly,” Ailish called out.

  He stopped, turned back and looked at each woman in turn. Narrowing his eyes on them, he said, “You’re plotting something, aren’t you?”

  “Plotting’s a harsh word,” Laura insisted.

  He frowned at her.

  “None of your glowering now, Ronan,” his aunt told him. “This is serious business here.”

  “I’ll not have a part in a scheme against Sean,” he warned.

  “’Tis for Sean,” Ailish corrected him. “Not against him. I am his mother, after all.”

  “Oh, aye, that makes a difference.”

  Ailish turned a hard look on her nephew and Laura hid a smile.

  “We’ll be needing your help, and I want no trouble from you on this,” Ailish said.

  “Oh, now, I think I’d best be off and out of this—”

  “Give it up, Ronan,” Laura told him with a slow shake of her head. “You’re lost against her and you know it.” Turning to the older woman, she said with admiration, “You’d have been a great general.”

  “Isn’t that a lovely thing to say?” Ailish beamed at her and then waved Ronan closer. “Come now, it won’t be a bit of trouble to you. You’ll see.”

  Ronan glumly walked forward, but bent his head to his daughter and whispered, “When you’re grown, you’re not allowed to play with your aunt Ailish.”

  Twelve

  “Damn it Georgia, I knew this was going to happen!” Laura dropped onto the sofa and glared at her sister.

  “Well, congrats, you must be psychic!” Georgia curled her legs up under her and muttered, “Better than being sensible, anyway.”

  “So now what?” Laura reached over and turned up the volume on the baby monitor she’d set on the nearby table. Instantly, the soft sound of Beethoven slipped into the room along with the sighs of a sleeping baby.

  Georgia listened to the sounds and felt a jab of something sweet and sharp around her heart. If she hadn’t loved Sean, she might have gotten married again someday. But now she was stuck. She couldn’t marry the one she loved and wouldn’t marry anyone else. Which left her playing the part of favorite auntie to Laura and Ronan’s kids.

  “Now nothing,” Georgia told her and couldn’t quite stop a sigh. “It’s over and that’s the end of it.”

  “Doesn’t make sense,” Laura muttered. “I’ve seen the way Sean looks at you.”

  “If I pay you, will you let this go?” Georgia asked.

  “I don’t know why you’re mad at me. You should be fighting with Sean.”

  “I did already.”

  “Sounds like you should again.”

  “To what point?” Georgia shook her head. “We said what we had to say and now we’re done.”

  “Yeah,” Laura told her wryly. “I can see that.”

  “I’ll get over it and him,” Georgia added, remembering Sean’s insulting proposal and the look of shock on his face when she told him thanks, but no, thanks. Idiot. She dropped her head onto the back of the couch. “Maybe it’s like a bad case of the flu. I’ll feel like I’m going to die for a few days and then I’ll recover.” Probably.

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  Georgia lifted her head and speared her sister with a dark look. “You could indulge my delusions.”

  “I’d rather encourage you to go fight for what you want.”

  “So I can go and beg a man to love me?” Georgia stiffened. “No, thank you. I’ll pass on that, thanks.”

  “I didn’t say beg. I said fight.”

  “Just leave it alone, okay? Enough already.”

  She didn’t want to keep reliving it all. As it was, her own mind kept turning on her, replaying the scene over and over again. Why did she have to tell him she loved him?

  Scowling, Laura looked across the room at her husband. “This is your fault.”

  “And what did I do?”

  “Sean’s your cousin. You should beat him up or something.”

  Before Ronan could respond to that, Georgia laughed. “Tha
nks for the thought, but I don’t want him broken and bleeding.”

  “How about bruised?” Laura asked. “I could settle for bruised.”

  “No,” she said. She was bruised enough for both of them, and she couldn’t even blame Sean for it. She was the one who’d fallen in love when she shouldn’t have. She was the one who had built up unrealistic dreams and then held them out all nice and shiny for him to splinter. And even now, she loved him. So who was the real idiot? “It’s done. It’s over. Let’s move on.”

  “Always said you were the sensible one,” Ronan piped up from across the room, and then he shivered when Georgia sent him a hard look.

  “God, I hate that word.”

  “I’ll make a note of it,” Ronan assured her.

  “Oh, relax, Ronan,” Georgia told him. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me.”

  “For what?” Laura demanded.

  “I never should have told him I loved him.”

  “Why shouldn’t you?” her sister argued. “He should know exactly what he’s missing out on.”

  “Yeah,” Georgia said, pushing up from the couch, unable to sit still. “I’m sure it’s making him crazy, losing me.”

  “Well, it should!” Laura shot a dark look at her husband and Ronan lifted both hands as if to say, I had nothing to do with this.

  “Excuse me, Miss Laura.”

  Patsy Brennan, the housekeeper, walked into the front room. “But Mickey Culhane is here to see Miss Georgia.”

  Georgia looked to Ronan. “Who’s Mickey Culhane?”

  “He owns a farm on the other side of Dunley. It was his son Sean drove to hospital during the storm.” To Patsy, he added, “Show him in.”

  “Why would he want to see me?” Georgia wondered.

  “How would I know?” Laura asked unconvincingly.

  Georgia looked at her sister wish suspicion, then turned to face the man walking into the front parlor.

  Mickey was about forty, tall, with thick red hair and weathered cheeks. He nodded to Ronan and Laura, then turned his gaze to Georgia. “I’ve heard about the troubles you and Sean are having, Miss, and wanted to say that you shouldn’t be too hard on him. He’s a fine man. Drove thirty kilometers into the teeth of that storm to get my boy to safety.”

  Georgia felt a flush of heat fill her cheeks. “I know he did, and I’m glad your son’s okay.”

  “He is, yes.” Mickey grinned. “Thanks to Sean. Without that Rover of his, we’d never have gotten the boy to help in time. You should probably think more kindly of him, is all I’m saying.” He looked to Ronan and nodded. “Well, I’ve to be off and home for supper.”

  “G’night, Mickey,” Ronan called as the man left.

  “What was that all about?” Georgia asked the room in general as she stared after the farmer thoughtfully.

  * * *

  For three days, Sean stayed away from Dunley, from the cottage, giving himself time to settle and giving Georgia time to miss him. And by damn, he thought, she’d better well miss him as he missed her.

  During those three days, he threw himself into work. For him, there was no other answer. When his mind was troubled or there was a problem he was trying to solve, work was always the solution.

  He had meetings with his engineers, with HR, with contracts and publicity. He worked with pilots and asked for their input on the new planes and tried not to focus on the woman who would be designing their interiors.

  He went in to the office early and stayed late. Anything to avoid going home. To Dunley. To the manor. Where the emptiness surrounding him was suffocating. And for three days, despite his best efforts, his mind taunted him with thoughts of Georgia. With the memory of her face as she said I love you, you boob.

  Had ever a man been both insulted and given such a gift at the same time?

  Pushing away from his desk, he walked to the window and stared out over Galway. The city lights shone in the darkness and over the bay, moonlight played on the surface of the water. The world was the same as it had been before Georgia, he thought. And yet…

  A cold dark place inside him ached in time with the beat of his heart. He caught his own reflection in the window glass and frowned at the man looking back at him. He knew a fool when he saw one.

  Sean Connolly didn’t quit. He didn’t give up on what he wanted just because he’d hit a hitch in his plans. If he had, Irish Air would be nothing more than a dream rather than being the top private airline in the world.

  So a beautiful, strong-willed, infuriating woman wasn’t going to stop him either.

  But Georgia wasn’t his problem and he knew it. The fact was, he’d enjoyed hearing her say she loved him. Had enjoyed knowing that she had said those three words, so fraught with tension and risk, first. It put him more in control, as he’d always preferred being. He hadn’t allowed himself to take that step into the unknown. To risk his pride. And yet, he told himself, if there was no risk, there was no reward. He hadn’t stepped away from the dare and risk of beginning his airline, had he?

  “No, I did not,” he told the man in the glass.

  Yet, when it had come to laying his heart at the feet of a woman who had looked furious enough to kick it back in his face…he’d balked. Did that make him a coward or a fool?

  He knew well that fool would be the word Ronan would choose. And his mother. And no doubt Georgia had several apt names for him about now.

  But to Sean’s way of thinking, what this was, was a matter of control. He would be in charge. He would keep their battle on his turf, so to speak—and since she had up and moved to Ireland she’d helped him in that regard already. What he had to do now was get her to confess her feelings again and then allow that perhaps he might feel the same.

  “Perhaps,” he sneered. What was the point in lying to himself, he wondered. Of course he loved her. Maybe he always had. Though he hadn’t meant to. That certainly hadn’t been part of his plan. But there Georgia Page was, with her temper, her wit, her mind. There wasn’t a thing about her that didn’t tear at him and fire him up all at once. She was the woman for him. Now he’d just to make her see the truth of it.

  “And how will you do that when she’s no doubt not speaking to you?”

  He caught the eye of the man in the glass again and he didn’t like what he saw. A man alone. In the dark, with the light beyond, out of reach.

  Until and unless he found a way to get Georgia back in his life, he knew the darkness would only grow deeper until it finally swallowed him.

  On that thought, he managed a grin as an idea was born. Swiftly, he turned for his desk, grabbed up the phone and made a call.

  * * *

  For the past few days, Georgia had been besieged.

  Mickey Culhane had been the first but certainly not the last. Every man, woman and child in Dunley had an opinion on the situation between she and Sean and lined up to share it.

  Children brought her flowers and told her how Sean always took the time to play with them. Men stopped in to tell her what a fine man Sean was. He never reneged on a bet and was always willing to help a friend in trouble. Older women regaled her with stories of Sean’s childhood. Younger women told of how handsome and charming he was—as if she needed to be convinced of that.

  In essence, Dunley was circling the wagons, but rather than shutting Georgia out for having turned on one of their own, they were deliberately trying to drag her into the heart of them. To make her see reason and “forgive Sean for whatever little thing he might have done.”

  The only thing she really had to forgive him for was not loving her. Well, okay, that and his terrible proposal. But she wouldn’t have accepted a proposal from him even if he’d had violins playing and rose petals at her feet—not if he didn’t love her.

  But in three days, she hadn’t caught even so much as a glimpse of him. Which made her wonder where he was even while telling herself it was none of her business where he was or who he was with. That was a lie she couldn’t swallow. It ate her up insi
de wondering if Sean had already moved on. Was he with some gorgeous Irish redhead, already having put the Yank out of his mind?

  That was a lowering thought. She was aching for him, and the bastard had already found someone else? Was she that forgettable, really?

  The furniture deliverymen had only just left when the bell over the front door sang out in welcome. Georgia hurried into the main room from the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks.

  “Ailish.”

  Sean’s mother looked beautiful, and even better, healthy. She wore black slacks and a rose-colored blouse covered by a black jacket. A small clutch bag was fisted in her right hand.

  “Good morning,” she said, a wide smile on her face.

  Georgia’s stomach dropped. First, it was the villagers who’d come to support Sean and now his mother. Georgia seriously didn’t know how much more she could take.

  “Ailish,” she said, “I really like you, but if you’ve come to tell me all about how wonderful your son is, I’d rather not hear it.”

  One eyebrow winged up and a smile touched her mouth briefly. “Well, if you already know his good points, we could talk about his flaws.”

  Georgia laughed shortly. “How much time do you have?”

  “Oh, Georgia, I do enjoy you.” Ailish chuckled, stepped into the shop and glanced around the room. “Isn’t this lovely? Clearly feminine, yet with a strong, clear style that can appeal to a man, as well.”

  “Thank you.” It was the one thing that had gone well this week, Georgia thought. Her furniture was in and she had her shop arranged just as she wanted. Now all she needed were clients. Well, beyond Irish Air. She’d talked to Sean’s secretary just the day before and set up an appointment to go into Galway to meet with him.

  She was already nervous. She hated that.

  “You’re in love with him.”

  “What?” Georgia jolted out of her thoughts to stare at Ailish, making herself comfortable on one of the tufted, blue chairs.

  “I said, you’re in love with my son.”