Briarwood Cottage Read Online Free Page A

that,” Sedona surprised her by admitting. “Especially after having become locally infamous for my dates from hell while watching friends find happiness with men I wouldn’t have thought they’d connect with…
    “But here’s the thing…if I ever found a man who obviously loved and cared for me the way Duncan obviously does you, I’d do whatever it took, including moving heaven and earth, to get him back.”
    Easy for her to say, Cassandra thought. Sometimes love just wasn’t enough.
    “So.” Sedona put her hand on Cassandra’s arm. “All I’m asking is that you consider not just the past, which was admittedly problematic, but the future you might be throwing away before you close that final door to your marriage.”
    “I won’t do anything rash.” That much Cassandra could agree to, having thought about little else than her and Duncan’s marriage over the past months.
    “I’m so glad to hear that. You deserve to be happy again.” Sedona’s dazzling smile could have lit up all of Shelter Bay for a month of rainy coastal Sundays. “Here’s hoping that famed Irish magic will spin a reconciliation spell for the two of you.”
    “I suppose anything’s possible.”
    Because her cousin looked so pleased with that idea, Cassandra opted against revealing that her reason for going to Castlelough was to hand-deliver their divorce papers. Then she was standing over Duncan until he signed on the dotted line.

3
    Castlelough, Ireland
    O utside Brennan’s Microbrewery and Pub, rain was falling from a leaden sky. Inside, a turf fire in a large open hearth warmed against the chill. The whiskey bottles behind the bar gleamed in the glow of brass-hooded lamps; the walls were covered in football flags, vintage signs, and old photographs. The stone floor, Duncan learned as he sat at the bar watching Patrick Brennan pull a row of pints for a group of senior citizens who’d gotten off a Lady sightseeing tour bus, went back to 1650.
    “You’re very good at that.” He’d always believed in giving credit where credit was due, and the publican not only brewed the best beer Duncan had ever tasted, he had an artist’s hand when it came to creating a perfect pint.
    “I’ve had enough practice,” Patrick said. “And it’s important to respect the ale.”
    “I imagine that’s even more the case given that you’re the brewer,” Duncan said as his phone chirped.
    When Diane’s photo appeared on the screen, Duncan pressed the button. “Checking up on me to make sure I haven’t busted up another tavern?”
    The question caused Patrick, who’d returned to the beginning of the row of glasses, to lift a brow. There was an art in pulling pints, and now that the Brian Boru Black Ale had settled, he’d begun topping them off, leaving a creamy crown of froth.
    “You may be crazy, but I’ve never gotten the impression you’re suicidal,” she responded.
    “Tell me you’ve called with the news that my sentence has been commuted and, as soon as we end this call, I’ll be placing another expensive one to Tiffany to buy you a bauble.”
    “Promises, promises.” Her laugh was warm and rich. “And as lovely as that sounds, I might have a problem explaining to my husband why I’ve let another man, especially one with your dicey reputation, buy me jewelry. So, unfortunately I’ll have to turn the enticing suggestion down…
    “No, I’m calling to warn you that Cassandra’s on her way to Castlelough.”
    Emotions too complex to catalog, ones he’d think about later, when he was back in the solitude of Briarwood Cottage, slammed through Duncan like a cluster bomb.
    “I suppose that’s not surprising,” he managed to say even as explosions went off inside his head. “A lake monster is right up her alley these days.”
    “Beastie,” Patrick murmured.
    “I don’t think the Lady of the Lake is her sole purpose in going.” She paused. Duncan tried to remember another time he’d heard his employer’s executive