"A what?"

"A chart. A goddamn computer-generated chart, projecting our finances and health, our career status and time management over the next five to seven years. After that, he told me, if we met our goals, we could consider-just consider-conceiving a single child. But for the next several years, he had to concentrate on his career, his planned advancements, and his stupid portfolio."

Fury was a living thing now, clawing viciously at her chest. "He decided when and if we would have a child. He decided should that eventuality take place there would be only one. If he could have managed it, he'd have decided on the sex of the projected baby.

"I wanted a family, and he gave me pie charts."

Her breath hitched, and her eyes filled again. But when Aidan rose to go to her, Jude shook her head frantically. "I thought he didn't want foreign travel and babies. I thought, well, he's just set in his ways, and he's so practical and frugal and ambitious. But that wasn't it. It wasn't it at all. He didn't want to go to the West Indies with me. He didn't want to make a family with me. What's wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you. Nothing at all."

"Of course there is." She dug out his handkerchief as her voice rose and fell and broke. "If there wasn't, I'd never have let him get away with it. I'm dull. He was bored with me almost as soon as we were married. People get bored with me. My students, my associates. My own parents are bored with me."

"That's a foolish thing to say." He went to her now, taking her arms to give her a little shake. "There's nothing dull about you."

"You just don't know me well enough yet. I'm dull, all right." She sniffled, then nodded for emphasis. "I never do anything exciting, never say anything brilliant. Everything about me is average. I even bore myself."

"Who put these ideas in your head?" He would have shaken her again, but she looked so pitiful. "Did it ever occur to you that this William with his bloody pie charts and cultural whatever it was is the boring one? That if your students weren't enthusiastic it was because teaching wasn't what you were meant to do?"

She shrugged. "I'm the common factor."

"Jude Frances, who's come to Ireland on her own, to live in a place she's never been, with people she's never met and to do work she's never done?"

"That's different."

"Why?"

"Because I'm just running away."

He felt both impatience and sympathy for her. "Boring you're not, but hardheaded you are. You could give a mule lessons. What's wrong with running away if where you were didn't suit you? Doesn't it follow you're running to something else? Something that does suit you?"

"I don't know." And she was too tired and achy to think it through.

"I've done some running myself. To and from. In the end I landed where I needed to be." He bent down to press a kiss to her forehead. "And so will you."

Then he drew her away, rubbed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Now, sit down here while I go clear up a few things in the pub. Then I'll see you home."

"No, that's all right. I can walk back."

"You'll not be walking in the rain and the dark and when you're feeling sad. Just sit and drink your tea. I won't be long."

He left her alone before she could argue, then stood on the stairs for a few minutes to get his own mind in order.

He was trying not to be angry with her for not telling him about the marriage. He was a man who took such commitments seriously, because of his faith and his own sensibilities. Marriage wasn't something you wound in and out of as you pleased, but something that cemented you.

Hers had crumbled through no fault of her own, but she should have told him. It was the principle of it.

And he'd just have to get by it, Aidan warned himself. He'd also have to do some careful treading over the sensitive areas of her that circumstance had rubbed so raw. He didn't want to be responsible for pinching where it already hurt.

Jesus, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck as he headed down to the pub. The woman was a bucket of work.

"What's the matter with Jude?" Darcy demanded the minute he stepped into the kitchen.

"She's all right. She had some news from home that upset her is all." He picked up the receiver on the wall phone to call Brenna.

"Oh, not her granny." Darcy set down the order she'd just picked up, and her eyes were full of concern.

"No, nothing like that. I'm going to call Brenna and see if she can cover for me a couple of hours. I want to drive Jude home."

"Well, and if she can't, Shawn and I will manage."

Aidan paused with the phone in his hand and smiled. "You're a sweetheart when you want to be, Darcy."

"I like her and I think she needs a bit of fun in her life. Seems to be there's been precious little up to now. And having her husband leave her for another woman before her bridal bouquet was dry is bound to-"

"Wait now-hold on a minute. You knew she was married?"

Darcy lifted a brow. "Of course." She hefted the order, sauntered toward the door with it. "It's not a secret."

"Not a secret," he muttered, then with gritted teeth dialed Brenna's number. "The whole village likely knew, but not me."

CHAPTER Twelve

By the time Aidan came back and they walked down to his car, Jude had time to calm down, and to review.

Mortification didn't begin to cover it. She had burst into the pub, then had sexually assaulted the man in his place of business. Perhaps in time-twenty or thirty years, she estimated-she would find that particular memory fascinating, and even amusing. But for now it was just humiliating.

Then she had compounded that by raging, weeping, blubbering, and cursing. All in all, she couldn't think of anything she might have done that could have shocked them both more unless it was stripping naked and dancing a jig on his bar.

Her mother had congratulated her on maintaining her dignity while under terrible stress. Well, Mother, she thought, don't look now.

And after all that, Aidan was driving her home because it was dark and rainy, and he was kind.

She imagined he couldn't wait to be rid of her.

As they bumped up her little road, she tried out a dozen different ways to smooth over the embarrassment, and every one sounded stilted or silly. Still, she had to say something. It would be cowardly, and rude, not to.

So she took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush.

"Do you see her?"

"Who?"

"In the window." Jude reached out, gripping his arm as she stared at the figure in the window of her cottage.

He looked up, smiled a little. "Aye. She's waiting. I wonder if time stretches out for her, or if a year is only a day."

He switched off the engine so they sat with the rain drumming until the figure faded away.

"You did see her. You're not just saying that."

"Of course I saw her, as I have before and will again." He turned his head, studied Jude's profile. "You're not uneasy, are you, staying out here with her?"

"No." Because the answer came so easily, she laughed. "Not at all. I should be, I suppose, but I'm not the least bit uneasy here, or with her. Sometimes-"

"Sometimes what?"

She hesitated again, telling herself she shouldn't keep him. But it was so cozy there in the warmth of the car with the rain pattering and the mists swirling. "Well, sometimes I feel her. Something in the air. Some-I don't know how to explain-some ripple in the air. And it makes me sad, because she's sad. I've seen him too."

"Him."

"The faerie prince. I've met him twice now when I've gone to put flowers on Maude's grave. I know it sounds crazy-I know I should probably see a doctor for some tests, but-"

"Did I say it sounded crazy?"

"No." She released another pent-up breath. "I guess that's why I told you, because you wouldn't say it. You wouldn't think it."

And neither did she, not any longer.

"I met him, Aidan." She shifted on her seat, her eyes bright with excitement as she faced him. "I talked to him. The first time I thought he was someone who just lived around here. But the second, it was almost like a dream or a trance or- I have something," she said following impulse. "I'd like to show you. I know you probably want to get back, but if you have just a minute."

"Are you asking me in?"

"Yes. I'd-"

"Then I've time enough."

They got out of the car and walked through the rain. A little nervous, she pushed at her damp hair as they stepped inside the cottage. "It's upstairs. I'll bring it down. Do you want some tea?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Just, well, wait," she said and hurried upstairs to her bedroom where she'd buried the stone among her socks.

When she came down, holding it behind her back, Aidan was already lighting the fire. The glow of it shimmered over him as he crouched by the hearth, and Jude's heart gave a pleasantly painful little lurch.

He was as handsome as the faerie prince, she thought. See the way the fire brings out the deep red tones in his hair and shifts and plays over the angles of his face, shoots gold into those wonderful blue eyes of his.

Was it any wonder she was in love with him?

Oh, God, she was in love with him! The force of it struck like a blow in the belly, nearly made her groan. How many more idiotic mistakes could she make in one single day?

She couldn't afford to fall in love with some gorgeous Irishman, to break her heart over him, to make a fool of herself. He was looking for something entirely different, and had made no pretenses about it. He wanted sex and pleasure, fun and excitement. Companionship, too, she imagined. But he didn't want some moony-eyed woman in love with him, particularly one who'd already failed at the only serious relationship she'd allowed herself.

He wanted a love affair, which was a world away from love. And if she wanted to succeed here, with him, to give herself the pleasure of a relationship with him, she would have to learn to separate the two.

She would not complicate this. She would not over-analyze this. She would not ruin this.

So when he rose and turned, she smiled at him. "It's lovely having a fire on a rainy night. Thanks."

"Then come closer to it." He held out a hand.

She was walking into the fire all right, she thought. And she wouldn't give a damn if she got burned. She crossed to him, kept her eyes on his. Slowly, she brought her hand from behind her back, spread her fingers. The diamond nestled in the center of her palm, shooting light and glory.

"Sacred heart of Jesus." Aiden stared at it, blinked. "Is that what I think it is?"

"He poured them like candy out of his bag. Jewels so bright they hurt my eyes. And I watched as they bloomed into flowers over Maude's grave. Except for this one that stayed as it was. I shouldn't believe it," she murmured, thinking as much of love as of the stone in her hand. "But here it is."

He took it from her hand to hold it in the light of the fire. It seemed to pulse, then lay quiet. "It holds every color of the rainbow. There's magic here, Jude Frances." He lifted his gaze to hers. "What will you do with it?"

"I don't know. I was going to take it to a jeweler, have it analyzed, the same way I was going to have myself analyzed. But I've changed my mind. I don't want it tested and studied and documented and appraised. It's enough just to have it, don't you think? Just to know it is. I haven't taken enough on faith in my life. I want to change that."

"That's wise. And brave. And perhaps the very reason it was given into your keeping." He took her hand, turned the palm up. After laying the stone on her palm, he curled her fingers around it. "It's for you, and whatever magic it holds. I'm glad you showed it to me."

"I needed to share it." She held the stone firmly, and though she knew it was foolish, thought she gathered courage from it. "You've been so understanding, and very patient with me. My outrageous behavior, then the way I dumped all my neuroses on you. I don't know how to repay you."

"I'm not keeping a balance sheet."

"I know. You wouldn't. You're the kindest man I know."

He managed not to wince. "Kind, is it?"

"Yes, very."

"And understanding and patient as well."

Her lips curved. "Yes."

"Like a brother might be."

She managed to keep the smile in place. "Well, I- hmmm."

"And are you in the habit of throwing yourself into the arms of men you think of like a brother?''

"I have to apologize for that, for embarrassing you."

"Haven't I told you that you apologize too often? Just answer the question."