Page 112 of Road Trip
“Geoffrey was quite interested in hearing about the two of you.”
“How would he know anything about us?” Therese asked.
“I might have given him the impression that I’d grown quite fond of our newfound relatives,” Esme said with a wheezy chuckle. She was clearly enjoying herself.
“Because?”
“To amuse myself. My brother isnota good person. He was clearly up to something, although I can’t say what. I rather liked watching him posturing and posing as he grasped for my affection.”
“Where is he now?” Maeve asked. “Is he here, in Tarrymore?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. I assure you I did not invite him to stay here, not that he would have deigned to. Oh no, Lord Geoffrey is much too grand for the gardener’s cottage.”
While they were chatting, Sinead pawed at Maeve’s leg until she picked her up and scratched the white blaze beneath the cocker spaniel’s chin. The dog responded by rewarding her with a slurp of her tongue on Maeve’s chin.
“She seems to rather like you,” Esme observed. She leaned closer. “What’s happened to your face?”
“We were walking back from dinner last night, and someone tried to run us down. If Therese hadn’t shoved me out of the way, I’d be dead,” Maeve said.
“Oh my. That’s unsettling. Surely it was an accident?” Esme exhaled and flicked more ash into the teacup.
“Maybe. But whoever slashed the tires on our rental car didn’t do that accidentally.”
“Did you report these incidents to the authorities? Must be outsiders. Likely vandals down from Cork or Dublin.”
Maeve and Therese exchanged a look and Maeve discreetly glanced down at her watch. Time to go.
Therese stuck out her hand. “We’ve taken up enough of your time, Esme.”
The old woman grasped the arms of the settee and arose. Shethrust the wooden box at Therese. “I’ll let you dispose of this as you see fit.”
“That’s incredibly generous of you,” Therese said, tucking the box into her tote bag, hoping it wouldn’t crush the scone she was planning to have for lunch. “Thank you for this. And for shedding light on the question of our portrait. We want you to know that your secret is safe with us.”
For once, Esme seemed genuinely touched. “Goodbye to you both then. And as Papa would say, fair winds and following seas.”
CHAPTER 49
“What do you make of that?” Maeve asked, after they’d driven away from the gardener’s cottage.
Therese had taken the daguerreotype out of the wooden box and was studying it. “I can’t quite believe she invited us over, and voluntarily gave us Kathleen’s stuff. Essentially, she’s admitting what we’ve been saying all along—that her grandfather fathered Kathleen.”
“What I find bizarre is the fact that Esme hasn’t spoken to her own brother in thirty-five years. And then he suddenly shows up, snooping around and asking questions about that portrait.”
“And us,” Therese reminded Maeve. “What if Geoffrey’s the one who’s been messing with us? Slashing our tires and trying to run us down?”
“For what reason? He can’t know anything about our portrait of Lady G. And he’s never even laid eyes on us.”
“As far as we know,” Therese said, adding an ominous, theatrical “mwahahahah!”
“Okay, the turnfor the airport is coming up,” Therese announced three hours and two wrong turns later. “Remind me why we’re going to the airport now instead of our hotel?”
“We’re dropping the rental car at the airport, then taking the shuttle bus to the hotel, which should be like a mile away,” Maeve said, keeping her eyes on the road. “That way we don’t pay for an extra day for the car, and we don’t have to screw around with turning it in tomorrow morning. We’ll get up, grab our bags, and catch the hotel shuttle back to the airport.”
“Got it,” Therese said. “I still wish we had time to go out and really experience Dublin.”
“Maybe next time,” Maeve said.
“You sound like Mom.”
