His Cinderella Heiress Read Online Free

was heavy. The shakiness of her legs wouldn’t quite support...
    But there he was, putting her firmly aside, hauling her bike around so it was facing the village. ‘That’s what you want?’
    â€˜I...yes.’
    â€˜You’re really not going far?’
    â€˜N... No. Just to the village.’
    â€˜Are you sure you’ll be fine?’
    â€˜I’m sure,’ she managed and hit the ignition and her bike roared into unsociable life. ‘Thank you,’ she said again over its roar. ‘If I can ever do anything for you...’
    â€˜Where will I find you?’ he asked and she tried a grin.
    â€˜On the road,’ she said. ‘Look for Jo.’
    And she gave him a wave with all the insouciance she could muster and roared off into the distance.

CHAPTER TWO
    A S CASTLES WENT , it seemed a very grand castle. But then, Finn hadn’t seen the inside of many castles.
    Mrs O’Reilly, a little, round woman with tired eyes and capable, worn hands, bustled into the dining room and placed his dinner before him. It was a grand dinner too, roast beef with vegetables and a rich gravy, redolent of red wine and fried onions. It was a dinner almost fit for...a lord?
    â€˜There you are, My Lord,’ the housekeeper said and beamed as she stood back and surveyed her handiwork. ‘Eh, but it’s grand to have you here at last.’
    But Finn wasn’t feeling grand. He was feeling weird.
    My Lord . It was his title. He’d get rid of it, he decided. Once the castle was sold he didn’t need to use it. He wasn’t sure if he could ever officially abandon it but the knowledge of its existence could stay in the attic at the farm, along with other family relics. Maybe his great-great-great-grandson would like to use it. That was, if there ever was a great-great-great-grandson.
    He thought suddenly of Maeve. Would she have liked to be My Lady? Who knew? He was starting to accept that he’d never known Maeve at all. Loyalty, habit, affection—he’d thought they were the basis for a marriage. But over the last twelve months, as he’d thrown himself into improving the farm, looking at new horizons himself, he’d realised it was no basis at all.
    But Maeve’s father would have liked this, he thought, staring around the great, grand dining room with a carefully neutral expression. He didn’t want to hurt the housekeeper’s feelings, but dining alone at a table that could fit twenty, on fine china, with silver that spoke of centuries of use, the family crest emblazoned on every piece, with a vast silver epergne holding pride of place in the centre of the shining mahogany of the table... Well, it wasn’t exactly his style.
    He had a good wooden table back at his farm. It was big enough for a man to have his computer and bookwork at one end and his dinner at the other. A man didn’t need a desk with that kind of table, and he liked it that way.
    But this was his heritage. His. He gazed out at the sheep grazing in the distance, at the land stretching to the mountains beyond, and he felt a stir of something within that was almost primeval.
    This was Irish land, a part of his family. His side of the family had been considered of no import for generations but still...some part of him felt a tug that was almost like the sensation of coming home. Finn was one of six brothers. His five siblings had left their impoverished farm as soon as they could manage. They were now scattered across the globe but, apart from trips to the States to check livestock lines, or attending conferences to investigate the latest in farming techniques, Finn had never wanted to leave. Over the years he’d built the small family plot into something he could be proud of.
    But now, this place...why did it feel as if it was part of him?
    There was a crazy thought.
    â€˜Is everything as you wish?’ Mrs O’Reilly asked anxiously.
    He looked at her worried face and he