“Only seven out of the fourteen bathrooms have a working shower, but the taps on all the tubs work, and the toilets flush. The cottages on the grounds should be all right with a good cleaning. They’re not as old as the rest of the castle.”
“The bathrooms could be a problem.” I grabbed two mugs from a cupboard and filled them with coffee from an already brewed pot. “You have no way of getting a plumber here?”
“I can take care of most of the basic plumbing issues.” Gary accepted a steaming mug from my outstretched hand. “But I’d be lucky to get one bathroom a day fixed on me Jack Jones.”
“The shower in the honeymoon suite works, right?”
“It does.”
“Then everyone else will have to make do.” I held the hot mug to my cheek and mentally ran through my to-do list. Everything was on the knife-edge of disaster, but that didn’t mean I’d fall on the floor and flail my arms while screaming, ‘why me.’
Hysteria simmered inside, but I drowned it with a large sip of coffee. I needed all of my wits about me to deal with Barb, Violet, and Keegan.
“I know you’ll do what you can,” I said, “but if you could do more than that…”
“I’ll do me best, love.” Gary drained his coffee and set the empty mug in the sink.
The lights flickered off for a second causing my stomach to sink to my toes. Losing power wasn’t something I’d considered. No way could it happen.
Gary cast his eyes upward. “I’ll get to work. See if I can get the backup generator working in case the power goes.”
“And I’ll get to work to make sure I have everything ready for the guests.” I grabbed my iPad and pulled up the weather app to check the forecast. Sixteen inches of snow expected today alone. All flights in and out of Belfast and Dublin airports canceled. The weather in Ireland was as changeable as Violet’s mind.
I grasped the tablet to my chest and closed my eyes. What was I going to tell Barb?
Chapter Ten
Keegan
I pressed end call and kicked the pillow barrier to the ground. Grit scratched my eyes, and on a yawn, I scrubbed my hands over my face.
I’d been awake until the wee hours rehashing the arsehole I’d been, and my cousin had just confirmed I was the biggest bollox to ever walk the earth. Niall corroborated what I suspected. Tessa didn’t have as much as a speeding ticket to her name. Gorman had cleaned out her bank accounts, stolen her jewelry and anything else of value in her apartment, and was now on the run.
After everything Shane had put my sister through, why the fuck had I believed his lies?
The stress I’d put Tessa under was unforgivable. She was doing all she could to survive a crappy situation. If I had any decency, I’d leave, go to my parents’ or try to catch a flight back to New York. But if I did, she’d never make the wedding work, and even though it went against the very reason I’d flown over, I’d help her as much as I could. But getting Tessa to accept my help would take a lot of persuading.
I opened the Today FM app on my phone and listened to the over-excited DJs talk about the worst snowstorms Ireland had experienced since the winter of 1982. It couldn’t be as bad as what they were saying. Irishmen were known for telling stories and exaggerating the details.
I went to the window and peeled back the curtains. They weren’t exaggerating. Twenty inches or more lay in an undisturbed layer. All airports would shut their doors, and because it was Ireland, they wouldn’t reopen for a few days, which meant I wouldn’t get a flight even if I wanted to.
If I went to my parents’ house, my mother would try to overfeed me while interrogating me about girlfriends, marriage, and babies.
Staying at the castle was my best option, and the first thing I needed to do was find Tessa and apologize for acting like a self-absorbed shithead.
Barb sat by the fire in the lobby with her head in her hands and Max by her feet. I wanted to pretend I didn’t see her, but before I could creep past, she lifted her face and stared me down.
“Can you believe this?” She gestured around the empty foyer.
I glanced around, baffled. “What?”
“No one’s coming to work today because of the snow. How backward are these people, this country?”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “Ah, begorrah begosh, sure, ‘tis a fine soft mornin’ out there. Nothin’ but a wee drop o’ snow.”
“Who are you supposed to be, the fricking Lucky Charms Leprechaun?” She didn’t crack a smile. “I don’t appreciate your flippant attitude.”
I staggered back and clutched my chest. “Flippant? Me? I’m as serious as they come.”
Snorting, she snatched up a cast-iron poker and plunged it into the fire. “Where’s that fiancée of yours? She needs to fix this. When Violet finds out the airports are closed, someone’s gonna pay, and it ain’t gonna be me. Why she wants a wedding here, I’ll never understand. This is all Tessa’s fault. Filling Violet’s head with fairytales.”
“C’mon, you can hardly blame Tessa for the weather. It’s not like she has a direct hotline to Mother Nature.”
“She’s the one who pitched this idea. A Christmas wedding in Ireland blah, blah, blah. What better way to seal your love blah, bullshit, blah.”
Tessa was doing all she could. A weaker woman would’ve buckled under the strain of having to share her bed with a stranger as well as keep up the pretense of him being her fiancé, never mind her suffocating financial issues.
“The wedding will
