Blood Magick (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy #3)(49)

The absurdly big wall TV, the snooker table, the old pinball machine and jukebox along with a gorgeous fireplace of Connemara marble topped by a thick, rough plank for a mantel.

The musicians played lively tunes near a mahogany bar he told her he found in Dublin. Though the space was roomy, furniture had been pushed back to make more room yet for dancing.

When he drew her into a dance, it was yesterday with all its innocent joy, with its simplicity and possibilities. But she pushed aside the pang it brought, told herself to let this one night be a time out of time.

She looked up at him laughing. “Now you’ve done it.”

“What’s that I’ve done?”

“Hosted the party of the year and now will be expected to do the same next. And next.”

Mildly horrified, he glanced around. “I thought to pass that torch to Iona and Boyle.”

“Oh no, they’ll have their own. But I’m thinking you own New Year’s Eve now. I see your Sean wearing a party hat, over there kicking up the heels of clean and shiny boots, and Connor’s Kyra and her boyfriend—fiancé now—with him wearing a shirt that matches the color of her frock and a cardboard king’s crown on his head. And there’s my Eileen dancing with her husband as if they were but sixteen, and the years, the children with them yet to come. You built a house that can hold most of the village for a party, and now you’ve done it.”

“I never thought of that.”

“Sure it’s too late now. And there I see Alice giving you the seductive eye, as she’s resigned to Connor being lost to her. You should give her a dance.”

“I’d rather dance with you.”

“And you have. Do your duty, Finbar, give her a twirl. I’ve people I should talk with.”

She stepped back from him, turned away. If she danced with him again, and too often, the people she should talk with would begin talking about them.

“Isn’t it great?” Iona grabbed her, did a quick circle. She’d donned a pink tiara that announced 2014 in sparkles. “It’s such a good party. I just have to do my hourly bathroom sweep and I’ll be back.”

“Bathroom sweep?”

“Checking TP and guest towel supplies, and so on.”

“I’m putting you in charge of every party I may have.”

“You’re a natural with parties and gatherings,” Iona countered. “Fin’s new at it. So am I, but I think I have a knack.”

“God help us,” Boyle said, and kissed the top of her head.

Branna enjoyed the music, the bits of conversation. After she slipped back upstairs, she enjoyed some of the food, and some time with those who sought more quiet in Fin’s living room or the great room.

It gave her time to see more of his house, to feel the flow of it. And the chance to check out the windows, to open herself enough to search for any sense of Cabhan.

“He won’t come.”

She turned from the tall French doors of his library toward Fin, who stepped through the doorway.

“You’re so sure?”

“Maybe there’s too much light, too many people, the voices, the thoughts, the sounds, but he won’t come here tonight. Maybe he’s just burrowed in, waiting for the year to pass, but he won’t come tonight. I wish you wouldn’t worry.”

“Being vigilant isn’t the same as worrying.”

“You worry. It shows.”

Instinctively, she reached up to rub her fingers between her eyebrows where she knew a line could form. And made him smile.

“You’re perfectly beautiful. That never changes. It’s in your eyes, the worry.”

“If you say he won’t come tonight, I’ll stop worrying. I like this room especially.” She ran her hand over the back of a wide chair in chocolate leather. “It’s for the quiet, and a reward.”

“A reward?”

“When work’s done, it’s for settling down in a good chair like this with a book and the fire. With rain pattering down, or the wind blowing, or the moon rising up. A glass of whiskey, a cup of tea—what’s your pleasure—and a dog at your feet.”

She did a turn, holding out a hand. “All these books to choose from. A good warm color for the walls—you did well there—with all the dark wood to set it off.”

She angled her head when he gave her a half smile. “What?”

“I built it with you in mind. You always used to say, when we were building our dream castle, how it had to have a library with a fire and big chairs, with windows the rain could drip down or the sun could creep through. It should have glass doors leading out to a garden so on a bright day you’d step out, and find a spot outside to read.”

“I remember.” And saw it now. He’d made one of her imaginings come to life.

“And there should be a room for music,” Fin added. “There would be music throughout the house, but a room just for it where we’d have a piano and all the rest. The children could take their lessons there.”

He glanced back. “It’s just over there.”

“Yes, I know. I saw it. It’s lovely.”

“There was part of me thought if I built it, if I kept you in mind, you’d come. But you didn’t.”

So clear now that she let herself see, the house was what they’d dreamed of making together.