Stitches in Time (11 page)

Maggie had never considered Liam’s family. To know he
honored
his grandfather’s memory touched her; in spite of his earlier words, he valued family as well.

The scenery was beautiful and although tempted to stop several times, the two continued driving. While the hundred and thirty or so miles would take only a little over two hours on US highways,
traveling
in Ireland took a little longer. While they were on the main motorway, they made good time, but as the roads became smaller and smaller, the amount of money spent on their upkeep dwindled. Soon Maggie was dodging potholes and swerving around corners not designed for cars. Again, Liam was impressed with Maggie’s driving abilities. When she wasn’t putting on a show for the employees, her natural confidence beamed.

She also wasn’t afraid to stop and ask directions. Since neither of them knew exactly where
Glenquin
Castle was, they were dependent on the locals to get them the final few miles. Finally they saw the tower looming in the distance and it was simply a matter of getting to it.

Three stories of almost solid grey stone climbed into the sky. The cylindrical tower was the tallest structure within eyesight and they found it with ease.

Parking the car, Liam picked up the tapestry and held his ring to the side. The knot designs were identical. Maggie shook her head, still amazed. “If the curator here is right and that design is a family one, then perhaps your ancestors lived here at one time.”

“My ancestors did come from County Limerick, but that was a hundred and fifty years ago. I’m afraid what part of the county is lost information.”

“Ah,
me
home! I haven’t seen me castle in hundreds of years.
Nice to see the people doing some work to keep it up.”

Liam chanced a glance at the leprechaun. Seamus was standing on his rock, peering out toward the building they approached. With a loud sniff, the little man pulled out a huge green handkerchief, noisily blew his nose and wiped his eyes. Liam sighed. Soon the leprechaun would be reunited with the lovers he’d been torn from and Liam would never see him again.
Just as he was getting used to having the little guy around.

This was Maggie’s show and Liam stepped back as they approached the castle entrance. Her no-nonsense business attitude stood her in good stead when she asked to meet with the curator. At first the attendant tried to put Maggie off as just another American tourist, but Maggie politely put the woman in her place and insisted on an interview with the man in charge.

A short, balding, bespectacled man, looking rather like an Irish leprechaun, came out of an office at the attendant’s bidding. Perhaps it was his forest green waistcoat, trimmed with gold buttons, or perhaps it was his round face, lit up with a jovial smile. But for Liam it was the twinkle in his eye as he winked at him when the two introduced themselves. He couldn’t help but glance down at the tapestry piece in his hands to be sure that Seamus was still in place. The tapestry leprechaun was only cloth.

Before Liam could say anything, however, the curator was ushering them into his office and bidding them to have a seat in the large leather chairs that sat before his desk.

“Please call me Ian. I’ve lived in these parts all me life and I can’t say we’ve ever had such a find as the treasure we found in the storeroom. We’ll be years
researchin
’ and
restorin
’.
A curator’s dream!”
Sitting up on the edge of the chair, he leaned over the desk with excitement in his eye. “Now, ye say ye have the matching piece to our tapestry that was hidden all these long years?”

“Yes, we think we do. Liam?” Maggie gestured to Liam, who still held the scrap of fabric in its frame. Almost reluctantly, he set it on the desk before the curator, eyeing him suspiciously. Seamus-the-leprechaun remained just a picture while the curator picked up the frame to examine the cloth. They might have different names, and their features might only be similar, but Liam was becoming more and more convinced the leprechaun was playing tricks somehow.

“The
colors
here are much more vibrant than the
colors
of the tapestry we found.”

“Yes, but that could be due to several reasons.” Maggie prepared to list them, but the curator held up his hand. She paused.

“I cannot be sure without checking the two pieces together. Why don’t the two of you take a walk around the grounds while I get the other piece?”

Maggie hesitated, looking to Liam for support. While she was sure the curator would be careful with their little piece, she didn’t just want to give it to the man, especially when it wasn’t really hers.

Liam stood. “That will be fine. Maggie?” Gesturing to the door, Liam’s intent was clear. She stood and started toward the door with Liam right behind her. Just about to leave, she turned and looked at the curator, who stood behind his desk, a bemused expression on his face. His spectacles were pushed up on his head and he held the piece close to his eyes. Without a word, Maggie turned and left the office.

Once more outside the building, she took Liam’s arm, a look of consternation on her face.

“What’s the matter?” He squeezed her hand where it rested in the crook of his arm. Leading her around the tower, he steered her toward a hedgerow. The late afternoon sun hung low in the clear sky. If the sailor’s adage was true, there would be fair weather for the parade on the morrow.

Maggie’s sigh came from her toes. “I don’t know, Liam. Didn’t you think there was something odd about that man?”

Chancing an askance look at the woman beside him, Liam feigned an air of nonchalance. “Odd? No, I didn’t think so.”

She shook her head. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it’s almost like I’ve met him before.”

Liam steered her further away from the tower and toward a more private area of the grounds. “I don’t know where you would have met him.” He needed to get her off the topic. A low rock just ahead provided a diversion. “Here, let’s have a seat.”

With a gentleman-like flourish, Liam brushed off the stone and made an elaborate bow to his lady. Giggling, Maggie curtsied to him and flounced out imaginary skirts as she turned and sat on the rock. Liam put his foot next to her and leaned down to kiss her.

Except that the rock was slippery with moss and his foot slipped. Maggie squealed and only her hands catching his shoulders saved his head from banging on the tree behind them. He righted himself and the two burst into laughter.

“So much for my romantic side.”
Liam brushed the dirt from his jeans.

“You are very romantic, Liam.” Maggie stood and put her hands out to him. He took them and swung her around in a circle until they were dizzy and out of breath. She wobbled over to lean against a tree to catch her breath, laughing at him, swaying and regaining his balance where he stood.

His grin was decidedly lopsided as he gazed at her. “Do you realize that’s the first time you’ve ever called me ‘Liam’?”

She blushed. It was. Her heart lodged in her throat at the sight of him striding toward her, the breeze lifting the curls of his hair. With new eyes she saw him, as if he were clad in
armor
, a sword strapped to his side, a horse waiting behind him. With a sudden clarity, Maggie saw him for what he was—her knight in shining
armor
and she loved him.

In two strides, Liam covered the distance between them to bury his fingers in her hair and turn her face toward his.
A face so incredibly beautiful in the soft, dying light of the day.
The sun’s rays glimmered in her auburn tresses, forming a halo of fire around her face. In his mind’s eye, she wore a garland woven of wildflowers and a flowing gown the
color
of pure ivory. Her eyes radiated love and trust and Liam admitted what the leprechaun knew all along: he loved Maggie Andrews.

So intent on one another, they did not hear the approach of quiet footsteps. Ian, the curator, carried two pieces of cloth in his hands, one large and faded, one small and vibrant. The two lovers embraced and he held the larger piece up, a mirror image of the couple before him; William of
Killeedy
dressed in
armor
for battle and Margaret of
Glenquin
, the Englishman’s daughter, in her billowing dress.

“Aye, just the way it was meant to be, eh, Seamus, me brother?”

“Would ye just put the two pieces together? I’ve been stuck here long enough! Besides which these two are the rightful owners of me tapestry and old
Bantry
will be
wantin
’
to get home.”

“Ah, don’t go
gettin
’
yer
knickers in a twist. Here.”

Ian held up the smaller piece, now released from the frame. As Liam leaned in to kiss Maggie, the two pieces touched, their edges melding as the threads rewove themselves.
Color
flowed from Seamus through the mend and flowers faded with time suddenly sprang to new life. The leaves on the tree turned green as life spread up the bole of the tree, now rejoined with its branches. And a pair of lovers, pale and grey, now glowed with renewal as their love blossomed again.

And beneath a real tree, only a little ways away, another pair of lovers embraced one another in the fading light.

“Kiss her, me boy-o. Kiss her and me spell is broken.”

If Liam heard the little leprechaun, he gave him no heed; his attention too intent upon the woman whose face looked up at him, so trusting, so beautiful. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers,
savoring
their softness. In the darkness, his voice was a whisper. “I love you, Maggie Andrews.”

Maggie stood on tiptoe to meet him; a soft kiss at first, before pressing closer. His hands encircled her waist and she slid her palms along the muscles of his arms to embrace his shoulders. With a small, satisfied sigh, the last vestiges of her hard, professional shell slipped away. “I love you, Liam
Finnerty
.”

Unnoticed by the lovers, Seamus O’Brien, at last freed from his spell, popped out of the tapestry and landed with a spring next to Ian, his brother leprechaun.

“Ian, I do believe
ye’ve
grown since last I stood next to
ye
!”

“Seamus, lad.
That’s what ye get for
gettin
’
yerself
stuck in a piece o’ cloth all these years. Ahh, don’t they look good together?”

“
Aye, that
they do.” For several moments, the magical men watched Liam and Maggie fall more deeply in love. As the moon rose and the last of the sunlight faded from the sky, Seamus chuckled as he spread the tapestry upon the rock. Turning to his brother, they left the lovers.

“Ah, yes, Ian-lad, I tell
ye
, ‘tis a genius I am.”

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