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No, she was not about to throw a jealous, suspicious fit over that article, Kerry told herself wryly. Lots of women talked nonsense about rich, handsome men in magazine interviews and it was hardly Luciano’s fault that the brunette had decided to earn herself some publicity by making attention-grabbing statements. Furthermore, she trusted Luciano…didn’t she?
The following morning, Miles greeted Kerry with profuse apologies for his behaviour and insisted on making her breakfast. His lively mood astonished her, for she had been certain that he would be suffering from too severe a hangover to even rise from his bed to see her off.
‘Since I can hardly pretend not to know why my sister was breathing fire yesterday, what’s the latest on you and Luciano?’ Miles enquired chattily.
Kerry coloured. ‘I’m going out to Italy with him.’
‘I’m happy with that if it makes you happy.’ Miles gave her a rueful scrutiny. ‘Of recent, I have been having second thoughts about who else might have taken that cash from Linwoods.’
Kerry studied him in surprise and then smiled. ‘I’m glad.’
‘It was easier to believe that Luciano had committed the fraud because he wasn’t one of us. But I’m starting to think that it might have been Steven—’
‘Steven Linwood…our cousin?’ Kerry frowned but, although she was taken aback by the direction his suspicions had taken him in, she was pleased that he had moved beyond his prejudice to doubt his former conviction in Luciano’s guilt.
‘He’s your cousin, not mine,’ Miles reminded her.
‘But you and Steven practically grew up together. How can you suspect him of stealing?’
‘Do you think I want to? And, if you ask me, that was Luciano’s biggest handicap when that theft was uncovered. Steven is such a likeable guy that nobody was willing to suspect him. But as it looks less and less likely that Luciano was responsible, we have to ask ourselves nasty questions. As deputy accountant at the time, Steven had the most opportunity to cook the books.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Don’t forget that with his father ill, Steven was pretty much in full charge,’ Miles added.
Kerry thought about her cousin, Steven. He was older then she was and she thought of him as a kind, unassuming man, but he was not someone whom she could feel she had ever known well because he was naturally quiet and reserved. ‘It was Steven who noticed the money had gone missing,’ she objected. ‘He’d hardly have blown the whistle on himself!’
‘Why not? Can you think of a better way to throw suspicion on to others? After all, with an audit in the offing, Steven would’ve known he couldn’t hide the discrepancies in the accounts for much longer!’ Miles grimaced. ‘But I just feel sick at the idea that he might have stolen from the firm.’
The limousine that picked Kerry up from her stepbrother’s apartment that morning was empty. Luciano rang her on a car phone. ‘Kerry—?’
‘Where are you? Are you meeting me at the airport instead?’
When he expelled his breath in an audible hiss, she knew that she was about to be disappointed. ‘No. An important meeting had to be rescheduled for this afternoon. I’ll join you in Tuscany tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow? I wanted you to meet my grandparents again—’
‘I know…but let’s face it, they won’t notice I’m missing,’ Luciano murmured gently.
Kerry flew to Dublin on a commercial flight and when she landed a car was waiting to whisk her out to the shabby but spacious house in Howth that her grandfather’s cousin, Tommy, inhabited.
Hunt O’Brien greeted Kerry with unusual animation. ‘I’m lunching with a literary agent this week,’ he announced with pride. ‘He’s Tommy’s great-nephew. I hope to recoup the family fortunes with my lifetime’s work.’
‘That should be very interesting…but you really don’t need to worry about having your books published.’ Kerry was quick to pour cold water on that idea, for she dreaded the prospect of her grandfather’s touching faith in his own work being destroyed by a blunt rejection. After all, a series of history volumes written over a period as long as half a century could not possibly be contemporary enough in outlook to win praise.
She bent down for her grandmother to kiss her cheek and murmured a compliment about the elaborately worked but faded embroidery stretched across the wooden sewing frame. It was one of several pieces that the old lady often simply pretended to stitch since arthritis had affected her hands.
Kerry asked her grandparents to listen carefully to the important news she had to tell them. She avoided stating outright that their only child, Carrie, was dead and concentrated instead on explaining that her late mother had given birth to three other daughters some years before her own birth.
‘My goodness…only Carrie could have kept that a secret,’ Viola O’Brien commented with a wondering shake of her white head.
‘I do think that your mother ought to have considered mentioning that we had more than one grandchild,’ her husband remarked. ‘Perhaps she meant to tell us on her last visit and forgot.’
‘Most unfortunate. Those poor girls have not had a single birthday card from us,’ her grandmother lamented.
Even while residing with her grandparents Kerry had received only one or two cards herself, but she saw no need to point that out. To the best of her ability, she described Misty, Freddy and Ione. Her grandmother displayed enthusiasm at the mention of great-grandchildren and said she would look forward to inviting them all to stay at Ballybawn.
Kerry was surprised by that assurance, for she had not yet told the older couple that they would be able to live at the castle again.
