Page 43 of The Widow’s Irish Secret (Magnolia Manor #4)

She nodded. ‘Yes. Sean was so ill and he needed the best care, even if he wasn’t going to make it.

So I had him admitted to a private nursing home where he could have a room to himself and be properly looked after.

I wanted him to have peace and calm and not be in a crowded public hospital.

’ She held back her tears that were threatening to spill.

Cillian didn’t need to be part of her sadness; it wouldn’t be fair to expect it.

‘That’s why I needed the money,’ she explained.

‘But you didn’t do anything wrong,’ Cillian said. ‘And even if you had, it would be completely understandable and forgivable, I have to say.’

Tricia felt suddenly flooded with relief, touched by his empathy. ‘Thank you. That’s what I needed to hear.’

‘I hope you can put it all behind you,’ Cillian said, squeezing her hand. ‘I don’t want you to dwell on that or feel guilty. Sean was a lucky man to have you there until the end.’

‘That’s lovely of you to say.’ Tricia leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

‘I just wanted to say that I know I was wrong the other night. We should have continued our weekend. I rushed off to see Sylvia the next morning because I was scared. Scared of telling you the truth. Scared of what this could be. But Sylvia put me straight.’

Cillian’s mouth quivered.

‘She’s right,’ Tricia said. ‘I’ve been trying to protect my family, and to be there for everyone. But I need a life too. I need you .’ She stopped, not knowing what to say next.

‘But what do you want?’ Cillian asked as a smile played on his lips.

‘I want you in my life whatever way suits you,’ Tricia replied. ‘Our time together is important to me. I know it might be hard for you to cope with my daughters and my grandchildren as they aren’t yours, but?—’

‘They’re Fred’s children and grandchildren,’ Cillian cut in. ‘So maybe, in some little way I could be a link to him through you and the childhood I shared with him. Does that sound cracked to you?’

‘It sounds wonderful,’ Tricia said.

She smiled at him as he got up and then, before she knew how, they were in each other’s arms. The kiss was long and tender and full of love and the pent-up feelings that had been waiting to come to the surface.

Tricia closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the feel of his soft lips and his clean, fresh smell, kissing him back with fervour.

‘That’s what I call making up,’ Cillian said when they broke apart. ‘Now there will be no more misunderstandings or resentments, will there?’

‘And no more secrets,’ Tricia said, feeling as if her heart would burst with joy. ‘I’m sure we’ll argue like mad, but in the end we know that we belong together for as long as…’

‘As we both shall live,’ Cillian filled in as he gazed into her eyes. ‘That’s how I feel anyway.’

‘Oh, me too, my darling.’

He stepped back and smiled at her. ‘You know what? I think we should start from the beginning and go on a date. A proper one where I bring you flowers and then we go to a restaurant and then I drive you home and kiss you goodnight on the doorstep even though I want to do a lot more. What do you think?’

Tricia laughed. ‘That would be perfect.’

‘I’m glad you agree. So when will we have the first date?’

‘Saturday night?’ Tricia suggested.

‘Good idea. I just want to say one thing before we go on,’ Cillian said. ‘It might annoy you, but I have to say it.’

‘Go on,’ Tricia said.

‘God bless Sylvia.’

Tricia squeezed him tight. ‘Amen to that.’

Then everything fell into place. At the end of the week the curator from the National Gallery arrived and examined the painting Tricia had found.

It didn’t take her long to decide that it was indeed a work by Kieran O’Grady.

A few days later the story broke and there were features in all the newspapers.

By then the painting was already hanging in the National Gallery with a label that said: On loan from the Fleury family .

Sylvia had immediately decided that it was too valuable to have on the premises but she wanted it to stay in the family should they need to sell it.

As no relations of Kieran O’Grady were still alive, the painting was assumed to belong to Magnolia Manor as it had been found there.

The most important day of the whole summer, however, was Vi and Jack’s wedding on a beautiful summer’s day in late August. Tricia’s eyes were full of tears as she watched Vi walk up the aisle of St Mary’s Church on Arnaud’s arm.

He had formed a strong bond with all the girls ever since he and Sylvia had become a couple.

He had been there in the background, a support and a shoulder to cry on, a kind of grandfather to them all, who asked for no favours but gave enormous love and attention to anyone who needed it.

Vi was especially fond of Arnaud as she had no memory of her real grandfather.

Tricia heard Sylvia sob quietly into her lace handkerchief and noticed many people in the congregation dab their eyes as the handsome Frenchman walked his step-granddaughter down the aisle looking proud of this beautiful young woman about to enter into marriage with the man she loved.

Vi wore Tricia’s dress and Sylvia’s veil with a wreath of flowers from the garden at Magnolia Manor on her head.

Jack turned around as Vi and Cillian approached and looked at his bride with love and pride.

Then they said their vows in front of the priest and walked out into the sunshine in a storm of confetti as everyone clapped and cheered.

There were no photographers outside the church as they had managed to keep their wedding plans away from any publicity.

A friend of Dominic took the official photos and then the guests boarded a bus that would take them to the orangery where there would be a barbecue and dancing late into the night.

It was a wonderful party that even Sylvia enjoyed.

She and Arnaud did a much-applauded cha-cha number on the terrace in the walled garden to the tunes of the salsa band Vi and Jack had hired.

Then they declared they would leave the dancing to the young and walked slowly up the path back to Magnolia waving at everyone.

‘The king and queen have retired,’ Cillian muttered in Tricia’s ear as they danced cheek to cheek to the now slower music. ‘Do you think we could slip away as well?’

‘Not until the bride and groom have driven away in Jack’s Morris Minor,’ Tricia protested. ‘We have to give them a proper send-off.’

‘You’re right,’ he said and twirled her around, bending her over in a deep dip. ‘In the meantime I’m not going to let go of you.’

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Tricia whispered into his ear.

She felt a huge sense of relief and happiness that things were finally settled between them.

They had been on some wonderful dates, having dinner, going to the cinema or a cosy pub to listen to Irish music, or do line dancing that was great fun.

Sometimes they went on hikes up the mountains that felt nearly like the old days, even if Fred was missing and they couldn’t manage the steep slopes like they used to.

‘We didn’t get to the top, but hey, we’re enjoying the best views in Ireland,’ Cillian had said as they sat on a ledge in the MacGillicuddy’s Reeks on a sunny day looking out over the deep blue waters of the Atlantic.

And now, as they danced under the stars, Tricia felt she couldn’t ask for anything more than this: Cillian’s arms around her, Vi and Jack married at last, Lily and Rose content and Sylvia and Arnaud happy in each other’s company.

She was no longer afraid of the future or of growing old.

Whatever fate had in store, they would face it together in their own way.