Danny

8

THE MANOR HOUSE was dark and silent. Danny lay in bed, Jordan asleep beside him. He turned to look at her and smiled to himself. They’d come home from a leisurely dinner in the village and immediately crawled into bed. But this time, they hadn’t made love. Instead, they’d spoken softly about their plans for the future.

He drew a deep breath. For now, she was going to stay. She’d furnish the house, then pack her things and move in with him. It wasn’t meant to be permanent, but it was a step in the right direction.

Danny closed his eyes, unable to relax. He couldn’t sleep. His mind was filled with possibilities now that Jordan was going to be a part of his life for a bit longer. It was all he’d really wanted, just a little more time.

He swung his legs off the bed, dressed only in his boxers. The air was chilly and he rubbed his arms as he walked out of the bedroom. Finny and Mogue looked up at him as he passed, but he held out his hand to stop them from rising.

He knew the house well enough that he needed no more light that the moonlight that poured through the mullioned windows. His feet were quiet against the stone stairs and he ducked into the library, heading for the small table that held a whiskey decanter.

He crossed the room and poured himself a whiskey then headed for the kitchen. Since the Shakespeare had gone missing, they hadn’t found any other trace of intruders.

Danny suspected one of the workmen had come inside looking for help and left the footprint. As for the book, perhaps it had fallen out of the crate on the way to the house. Still, there were moments when he felt as if he were being watched. Ghosts. The house was probably filled with all sorts of spirits, both good and evil.

As he stepped inside the door to the kitchen, Danny froze. A figure stood at the refrigerator, the light from the interior creating an eerie silhouette. He knew immediately that it wasn’t Jordan. She was sound asleep upstairs. “What the hell-”

The man spun around, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. Danny recognized the face immediately. “Bartie?” The elderly man made a break for the butler’s pantry door, but Danny was quicker. He caught him by the arm and dragged him to a stop. To his surprise, Bartie didn’t offer any resistance. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Having myself a sandwich. I was doing a-a spot of night work in the garden and felt a twinge in my stomach.”

“How did you get in?”

“The door. It was-unlocked.”

“No, it wasn’t. I checked all the doors and the windows. Everything is locked up tight.”

“I have a right to be here,” Bartie said.

“You have a right to trespass?”

“This is my house. Mine. You’re the ones who are trespassing.”

Either Bartie was delusional or drunk. Danny was determined to find out which it was and then find out exactly how he got inside. “Come on,” he muttered. He dragged him along with him to the library. When they got inside, Danny flipped on a lamp, then pointed to a chair next to the fireplace. “Sit.”

“I’m the host here. You’re the guest. Don’t tell me what to do.”

The sandwich still clutched in his hand, Bartie watched Danny with suspicious eyes. “I could stand a whiskey,” he said.

Danny strolled over to the small bar table and poured a measure into a tumbler. Perhaps it would loosen Bartie’s tongue.

“Don’t be stingy there, boy. A little more would be appreciated.”

Stubborn old sot, Danny thought as he handed him the whiskey. “How many times have you been in the house, Bartie? I mean, before I caught you.”

“I come and go as I please,” he said. “It’s my house.”

“How is that possible?”

“I’m the heir to Castle Cnoc.”

“You?”

The old man took a sip of the whiskey then returned to eating his sandwich. “My grandfather owned the place. He inherited it from his father.”

“You’re a Carrick?”

Bartie nodded, then wiped his hand on his pants and held it out to Danny. “Bartholomew G. Carrick the third. Pleasure to meet you.”

Danny took Bartie’s hand and shook it. This was growing more bizarre with every moment that passed. The man who’d been digging holes for months in the garden was the former heir to Castle Cnoc. “You’ve been sneaking into the house?”

He nodded.

“How? I’ve made sure the place has been locked up tighter than a drum. And there are the dogs.”

“I have my ways,” Bartie said. “Secret ways. I’m not about to tell you.” He paused. “And your dogs don’t bark at someone who’s been feeding them bits of beef every day.”

“You will tell me how you got in or I’ll call the gardai. And they’ll haul you off to jail. If you’re honest about all this, I may let you go without reporting you to either the authorities or Jordan.”

“She doesn’t belong here. I do.”

“Bartie, I’m not sure how it happened, but I know that this house doesn’t belong to you. Not anymore.”

The older man blinked at him, as if he didn’t fully comprehend the complexities of property ownership. “It’s been in my family for generations.”

“And now it isn’t. Besides, why would you want this great hulk of a place? It’s impossible to keep up. It would take thousands, hell, millions, to keep it looking like this. Myself, I’ve always preferred a tidy little cottage.”

“I have a cottage,” Bartie said. “In the village. It’s lovely.”

“I have a place of my own in Ballykirk. Men like us don’t need all these trappings. This place is like a museum. We’re just regular blokes.”

Bartie nodded, then drained the rest of his whiskey. He held out the glass. “Another,” he ordered.

Danny decided to keep him drinking and talking. “So, you’ve been coming in and wandering around at night because you can’t bear to part with the family estate? But what’s with the holes in the garden?”

Bartie leaned forward. “I’m trying to find the treasure.”

“What treasure?”

“The gold and silver my grandfather buried in the garden. Before he lost his fortune, he hid a chest somewhere on the estate, to save it from his creditors. He planned to come back for it, but he died suddenly and the family fell into financial ruin. That’s when they had to sell Castle Cnoc.”

Danny wasn’t sure of the legalities of the situation. Would buried money belong to the current landowner or the heir of the person that buried it? Either way, Bartie would probably have some legal claim. “And have you found anything?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. But I will. I’ve been looking now for seventeen years. It’s got to be here somewhere.”

“And you’ve looked in the house?”

“Oh, yes, I know every inch of this house and it’s not here. Once she leaves I’ll have much more freedom to look. The new owners won’t be around much, I reckon.” He gave Danny a shrewd look. “If you help me and we find it, I’ll give you twenty percent.”

“If you show me how you got in,” Danny murmured, “I might consider it.”

“It’s a secret,” Bartie said, grinning. He tapped his nose. “Only I know. A family secret passed down to the heir to Castle Cnoc.”

“Of course if you’re talking about the smuggler’s tunnel, we already know about that.”

Danny’s question had the desired effect. Though there had always been talk of a tunnel out to the coast, Bartie would be the one to know. The old man’s face flushed red and he seemed to grow more agitated. “Perhaps it’s time to call the authorities?”

“I haven’t done anything wrong. This house belongs to me.”

“Bartie, you know that’s not true. And besides trespassing, they might want to add some other charges as well. Stalking, harassment, theft. You could be facing ten, maybe twenty years. And what about Daisy? She could be charged as your accomplice.”

“I-I-but-Daisy was only helping me search the grounds. She knew nothing about me coming into the house. And theft-I only took a copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream so Miss Kennally would think maybe there were fairies.”

Danny scowled. “What about the vase? And the ring?”

“I broke the vase accidentally. And I thought the ring might be a clue. I put it back.” Bartie looked offended.

“Show me the tunnel right now and I’ll make sure none of this ever gets back to the authorities.”

“Yes.” Bartie paused. “Maybe that would be best.”

“Danny?”

They both turned to find Jordan standing in the doorway, dressed in only a faded T-shirt. Her eyes went wide when she caught sight of Bartie and she pulled the bottom of the shirt down to cover her backside.

“What are you doing here, Bartie? It’s late.”

“Bartie is our resident brownie,” Danny said. “He’s been in and out of this house-what?-a hundred times since he started working for you.”

“More before that,” Bartie said. “It’s not hard.” He walked over to the center bookshelf on the far wall. “It’s this center shelf. You just give it a quick shove, like this and-” He pushed and the bookcase suddenly became a door. “Simple, really. The stairway leads to a tunnel and the tunnel comes out on the cliffs.”

“Why did you come in?”

“Bartie’s been looking for treasure.”

“First, I thought it was in the house, but I’ve been over this place with a magnifying glass before you showed up. Swimming pool too. Thought it might be there, but it wasn’t. The garden was the next logical spot.” He frowned. “It’s here somewhere. I know it.”

“What were you doing in my room that night?”

“Hoping to steal a key,” he said. “Crawling through that tunnel’s been hard on the back,” he complained. “Would rather come through the front door, I would.”

The three of them stood silently for a long time. “What do you want to do with him?” Danny asked.

Jordan sighed. “Just finish the garden, Bartie. I want to see roses in there before the end of the week. Stop digging holes, stop sneaking into the house. If there was hidden treasure here, you would have found it already.” She looked over at Danny. “I’m going to bed. Are you coming?”

“You don’t want to see where this passageway goes?” he asked, surprised.

“No! It’s the middle of the night. We’ll look at it tomorrow.” She stumbled out of the room, grumbling, “I can’t believe Bartie was the brownie. All of that worry for nothing.”

THE NEXT FEW DAYS at Castle Cnoc were a flurry of activity. The moment Jordan got a look at the smuggler’s tunnel, she insisted that it had to be renovated before the owner arrived: electric lighting installed, the walls freshly painted and the tile floor restored. She would even have the blueprints for the house redrawn to show the new discovery.

Danny had been left to find work for himself, staying out from underfoot as much as he could. The furniture was being delivered that morning and though he’d offered to help, Jordan had suggested that he help Bartie finish up the plantings in the garden.

In truth, Danny was glad to be banished from the house. Since the movers had arrived at eight that morning, Jordan had been edgy and curt, overwhelmed with the details of examining each piece before it was placed in the proper room. Jordan had also hired five women from the village to give the manor house a final polish. They were to wash the new linens, make the beds, unpack china and silver in the butler’s pantry and carefully arrange all the bits and pieces of decor that she had chosen over the past seventeen months. When she wasn’t dragging furniture from one spot to the other, Jordan was directing traffic and barking out orders.

Danny wandered back outside and headed to the walled garden. After the confrontation with Bartie two nights before, the old man had focused all his energy on finishing the planting. Danny felt a bit sorry for him. After years of searching for his treasure, he’d finally decided to give up looking.

Bartie had brought a crew from the village to help yesterday and they’d worked all day to get nearly a hundred rose bushes planted. Now he was spreading mulch between the plants and the crushed-stone paths.

Danny grabbed a shovel that was leaning against the wall and stepped inside the garden, ready to give the old man a hand. But as he shoved the spade into the mulch, an image flashed in his mind. There was one place that Bartie might not have searched.

“Bartie,” he called, motioning the man over. “Grab your shovel and come with me.”

“I have to finish. Miss Jordan wants this done by the end of the day.”

“We can take a break. I’ll cover for you with Jordan.”

Bartie joined him and Danny headed toward the cliff. “Have you ever been down to the cove?”

“When I was a kid. Gettin’ down the cliff is tricky at my age.”

“And you know about the cave?” Danny asked.

Bartie shook his head. “I don’t know of any cave.”

“Well, I’m sure your great-grandfather knew about it. I suspect they used it to store smuggled goods until they could move them through the tunnel. I’m thinking that maybe your great-grandfather buried his treasure in that cave.”

“It makes sense,” Bartie said. “What if we find it?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Danny said.

He helped Bartie navigate the narrow path down the cliffs, then showed him how to get inside the cave. The flashlight he’d used for the last trip to the cave was still in his pocket and he turned it on. “He’d have to bury anything past the reach of the water,” Danny said. “You can see on the wall how far up it comes.”

They started at the back wall of the cave, working in the wavering light. Almost immediately, they struck something metallic buried in the sand. Bartie looked up at him, wide-eyed, then bent down and began to brush the sand away with his hands.

Slowly, he uncovered a small metal box, the kind that usually held ammunition. Danny held his breath, hoping that Bartie wasn’t about to be disappointed. “Can you get it open?” he asked.

“You do it,” Bartie said. “I’m not sure I care to look.”

“Let’s get it into the light,” Danny said.

They hurried back to the cave entrance and set the box down on the ground. It was barely rusted, the dark-green paint still visible. The box wasn’t locked. Danny grabbed the top and pulled it back.

“Jaysus, Mary and Joseph,” Bartie whispered. “It’s the treasure. It’s gold.”

The old man was right. The box was filled with gold coins, hundreds of them. Danny picked one up and examined it. “It’s a British sovereign,” he said. “Looks like a coin from the Victorian age.”

“But my great-grandfather buried the treasure in the 1920s,” Bartie said.

“This might not be his treasure. This might be gold from the smugglers.”

“How much do you reckon it’s worth?” Bartie asked.

“I don’t know,” Danny said. “A lot. It’s gold.” He took a deep breath. “We’re going to have to show this to Jordan. It was found on private property. I don’t know what the law says.”

They made their way back up the cliff and Danny ordered Bartie to take the box of gold to the garden and wait there. With every step he took toward the house, he thought about keeping the gold a secret from Jordan, of letting Bartie walk away with his treasure-even though it wasn’t the treasure he was looking for.

Though he knew Jordan well, Danny had no idea how she’d react to this interesting development. Would she insist that her clients get the gold? Or would she find a way to compromise? The new owner was certainly rich enough. A movie star like Maggie Whitney made millions for each picture.

He found Jordan standing in the foyer, a clipboard clutched in her arms. He strode up to her and gently grabbed her elbow. “Jordan,” he murmured. “I need to see you out in the garden.”

“Not now,” she said. “They’re just bringing in the dining room table and I need to make sure they put it together properly.”

“This is an emergency,” Danny said.

She looked up from her clipboard. “Can’t it wait?”

“No, it can’t.” He took her hand and pulled her out the terrace door and down the path to the walled garden.

“What is it? Is Bartie all right?”

“Bartie is fine,” Danny said. “We found the treasure.”

Jordan stopped short. “What? Where?”

“In the cave,” he said. “A big box of gold coins.” He squeezed her hand. “What are you going to do?”

She drew a deep breath. “What do you think I should do?”

“I think you should let Bartie keep his treasure,” Danny replied. “But I’m not the boss, you are.”

He watched as she thought through her options. Then she glanced up at him. “Why am I out here? There can’t be anything more important than moving the furniture into the house. You and Bartie get back to work on the rose garden.”

With that, Jordan turned on her heel and strode back inside, leaving Danny to wonder at what had just happened. She’d completely ignored everything he’d just told her-

He grinned, then walked back to the garden. There was a reason he loved Jordan and he had no doubt that his feelings weren’t going to change.

Odd how the prospect of falling in love had once scared the hell out of him. Now, it made him feel as though he was sitting on top of the world. Danny didn’t care that it had happened so fast, or that they hadn’t completely decided on a future together. Jordan wasn’t going home tomorrow, she was coming to live with him. Tomorrow, they’d start their life together.

Bartie was waiting for him, the box at his feet. “I guess you can just take that old metal box and everything inside it home, Bartie, and I’ll finish up in the garden. Jordan isn’t interested in anything you’ve found.” Danny pressed his finger to his lips. “But I wouldn’t go passing this story around the village or she might change her mind. Keep your good fortune to yourself.”

“I’ll do that,” Bartie said, reaching down and picking up the box. “Yes, I will. I’ll do that.” He pulled a coin out of the box and handed it to Danny. “Here. It will bring you luck.”

Danny watched as Bartie hurried off, the box tucked under his arm. He chuckled softly. Things had a way of working out just grand.

JORDAN STOOD IN THE DOORWAY. Her hair, twisted into a tidy knot earlier, now tumbled around her flushed face. Her clothes were dirty and wrinkled and she felt exhaustion overwhelming her.

“Almost done?”

She turned to look at Danny and smiled. “Almost. We’re just missing a sofa. Either it never got delivered to the warehouse or they misplaced it there. But that’s it. Everything else arrived in one piece, no scratches, no breakage.”

Danny reached out and gathered her in his arms. “Congratulations. You did it.”

“I did. Almost. I have to finish my paperwork tonight and email that to the office and then make a quick double check of my list and I’ll be done.”

“We should celebrate,” he said. “I’ll take you out tonight and we’ll have some fun.” He pulled the gold coin out of his pocket. “I’ve come into a little bit of money.”

She laughed. “Don’t show me that. I might ask where it came from.”

“You did a good thing,” he whispered, his breath warm on her hair.

“Right now, all I really need is a nice long foot massage, a hot bath and a warm bed.”

Danny grinned. “I can do that,” he said. “In fact, I’m good at all those things.”

Jordan kissed his cheek. “We’re back to the caretaker’s cottage for now. I’ll be out in a minute. I want to call your mom and Nan and see if they’d like to come tomorrow morning for a tour. And I have to track down that-” Her cell rang and she pulled it out of her pocket. “This might be my missing sofa.”

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Danny said. He wandered through the doors to the terrace and Jordan smiled as she watched him move. She’d worried for so long over the day they’d have to part, but now, all those worries had disappeared.

Her phone rang again and Jordan looked at the caller I.D. then winced. It was her father. She hadn’t spoken to him since their exchange of text messages earlier that week. She was in no mood to talk to him now. She groaned, still staring at the phone. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

She walked over to an upholstered bench and sat down, then answered the call. “Hello, Daddy. How are you?”

“It’s not your father, Jordan, it’s your mother. I want you to talk to your father and give him a chance to apologize to you. Don’t argue with him, just listen.”

“I don’t want to talk to him, Mom,” she said. “He made his decision and now I’ve made mine. And I’m all right with that. It’s for the best. It’s time for me to move on with my life.”

“It certainly is not!” her mother declared. “Here he is.”

“No, I don’t want to- Hi, Daddy.” Her heart began to pound in her chest and she took in a deep breath.

“Your mother wanted me to call. I’m sorry I was so unreasonable with you. And I’ve taken Matt off the hotel project and assigned it to you. You need to finish up this week and get back to New York.”

“Daddy, I’m not sure I-”

“I’m not going to beg you, Jordan. Just get back here and we’ll smooth things out. You’ll have your project and now you’re going to have to prove my trust in you is worth it.”

Jordan slowly shook her head. “I’ll be back in New York in a few days. I’ll talk to you then.”

Jordan turned off the phone and slowly walked outside. She found Danny in the cottage, sitting on the edge of the bed. His smile faded as his gaze met hers. “What’s wrong? Is your sofa lost, then?”

“My father just called,” Jordan said.

“Did he apologize?” Danny asked.

She shook her head. “He just offered me the hotel job. I guess after my mother heard that I quit, she was very upset. She was afraid I wasn’t going to come home so she told my father he had to give me the project.”

“Do you still want the project?” Danny asked.

“I-I don’t know.”

The expression on his face told her the whole story. This was what she’d wanted all along and now that it had been offered, Danny wasn’t at all confident that she would turn it down.

“Hey, this is good, right?” Danny said, forcing a smile. “This is what you’ve been working for.”

“I really wanted to earn it,” she said. “I didn’t want it handed to me like some bribe.”

“You did earn it.”

“No. I’m sure my mother threatened to divorce my father and take half his money. She does that when she doesn’t get her own way. Only this time she probably meant it.”

Danny grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him. “You don’t have to make a decision right now. Think about it. You can take some time.”

“We’re going to be done here in a few days. The new owners will be here for Christmas. I’ve hired a housekeeper and a caretaker. After tomorrow, I’m finished. He wants me to start the new project next week.”

“Next week?”

She nodded.

“How long? To finish the project?”

“A year at least,” Jordan said. “It wouldn’t be like this project. I’d have a huge crew, lots of resources. It would be my first really major project for Kencor.”

“This wasn’t a major project?”

Jordan shook her head. “This is a private home. He called it my little decorating job. I could have done this in my sleep. Since I met you, I have kind of been doing it in my sleep.”

“This is bollocks,” Danny muttered. “How the hell am I supposed to compete with a feckin’ hotel in Manhattan?”

“I don’t want to go,” Jordan said. “You’re right. It is my choice. And if I choose to stay with you, my father will have to live with that.”

Danny pulled her into a hug, raining kisses over her face. “Tell me you really mean that,” he murmured. “Just tell me so I can put aside this sick feeling in my gut. I don’t want to lose you, Jordan. I’m not ready to let you go.”

Jordan didn’t speak, but stood up beside the bed and began to take her clothes off. When she was completely undressed, she helped Danny out of his clothes then pulled him down on the bed. She didn’t want to think about all of her choices right now. She wanted to lose herself in the feel of his body against hers, in the taste of his mouth.

Making love to him was the only thing that made sense right now. He made her happy, happier than she’d ever been in her life. Home was no longer in New York. Home was wrapped in Danny’s arms.