He grinned to take any offence from the words and Jo found herself grinning back. This man got subtle nuances, she thought, but, rather than bristling, he enjoyed them. She looked from Finn to the lawyer and thought this farmer was more than a match for any smart city lawyer.
‘Lord Conaill and I have just been having breakfast,’ she said. ‘Before he takes me on a tour of the estate.’
‘You know you’re sharing?’
‘And that’s what you need to explain,’ Finn said and they headed into her grandfather’s study, where John O’Farrell of O’Farrell, O’Farrell and O’Lochlan spent an hour explaining the ins and outs of their inheritance.
Which left Jo...gobsmacked.
She was rich. The lawyer was right. If she wanted, she could have half a dozen Harleys. Or much, much more.
The lawyer had gone through each section of the estate, explaining at length. She’d tried to listen. She’d tried to take it in but the numbers were too enormous for her to get her head around. When he finally finished she sat, stunned to silence, and Finn sat beside her and she thought, He’s just as stunned as I am.
Unbelievable.
‘So it’s straight down the middle,’ Finn said at last. ‘One castle and one fortune.’
‘That’s right and, on current valuations, they’re approximately equal. In theory, one of you could take the castle, the other the fortune that goes with it.’ The lawyer looked at Jo and smiled. He’d been doing that a bit, not-so-subtle flirting. But then he decided to get serious again and addressed Finn.
‘However, if you did have notions of keeping the castle, of setting yourself up as Lord of Glenconaill and letting Miss Conaill take the rest, I have bad news. This place is a money sink. My father has been acting as financial adviser to Lord Conaill for the last forty years and he knows how little has been spent on the upkeep of both castle and land. He’s asked me to make sure you know it. The cosmetic touches have been done—Lord Conaill was big on keeping up appearances and his daughter insisted on things such as central heating—but massive capital works are needed to keep this place going into the future. Lord Conaill told my father he thought your own farm is worth a considerable amount but, in my father’s opinion, if you wished to keep the castle, you’d need considerably more. And, as for Miss Conaill...’ he smiled again at Jo ‘...I suspect this lady has better things to do with a fortune than sink it into an ancient castle.’
Did she?
A fortune...
What would the likes of her do with a fortune?
Finn wasn’t speaking. He’d turned and was looking out of the massive casement window to the land beyond.
He’d need time to take this in, she thought. They both would. This was...massive. She tried to think of how it would affect her, and couldn’t. She tried to think of how it would affect Finn, but watching his broad shoulders at the window was making things seem even more disconcerting.
So focus on something else. Anything.
‘What about Mrs O’Reilly?’ she found herself asking, and the lawyer frowned.
‘What about her?’
‘It’s just...there’s no mention of her in the will and she seems to have been here for ever. She knew my mother.’
Finn turned and stared at her. She kept looking at the lawyer.
‘I believe she has,’ the lawyer said. ‘There has been...discussion.’
‘Discussion?’
‘She rang after the funeral,’ the lawyer admitted. ‘Her husband was the old Lord’s farm manager and she’s maintained the castle and cared for your grandfather for well over thirty years. My father believes she’s been poorly paid and overworked—very overworked as the old Lord wouldn’t employ anyone else. My father believes she stayed because she was expecting some sort of acknowledgement in the will. She knew the castle was to be left to you, My Lord,’ he told Finn. ‘But it would have been a shock to hear the remainder was to be left to a granddaughter he’d never seen.’
He hesitated then but finally decided to tell it how it was. ‘The old Lord wasn’t without his faults,’ he told them. ‘My father said he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d made promises to her that he had no intention of keeping. It gave him cheap labour.’
‘And now?’ Jo asked in a small voice.
‘Her husband died last year. The place is without a farm manager and I wouldn’t imagine you’ll be having ongoing use for a housekeeper. She’ll move out as soon as you wish.’
‘But she’s been left nothing? No pension? Nothing at all?’
‘No.’
‘That sucks,’ Jo said.
‘She doesn’t like you,’ Finn reminded her, frowning.
‘It still sucks. She took care of my grandfather?’
‘I believe she did,’ the lawyer told her. ‘For the last couple of months he was bedbound and she nursed him.’
‘And she hated my mother, so she can’t be all bad. How much would a cottage in the village and a modest pension be? Actually, you don’t even need to tell me. Work it out and take it from my half.’
‘She burned your dinner!’ Finn expostulated.
Jo shrugged and smiled. ‘If I thought she’d just inherited my home I might have burned her dinner.’
‘She called your mother a drug addict.’
‘My mother was a drug addict.’ She turned back to the lawyer. ‘Can you set it up?’
‘Of course, but...’
‘Take it from both sides,’ Finn growled. ‘We both have a responsibility towards her and we can afford to be generous. A decent house and a decent pension.’
‘There’s no need...’ Jo started.
‘We’re in this together,’ he said.
The lawyer nodded. ‘It seems reasonable. A pension and a local cottage for Mrs O’Reilly will scarcely dent what you’ll inherit.
‘Well, then,’ he said, moving on. ‘Irish castles with a history as long as this sell for a premium to overseas buyers looking for prestige. If you go through the place and see if there’s anything you wish to keep, we can include everything else with the sale. I’d imagine you don’t wish to stay here any longer than you need. Would a week to sort things out be enough? Make a list of anything you wish to keep, and then I’ll come back with staff and start cataloguing. You could both have your inheritance by Christmas.’ He smiled again at Jo. ‘A Harley for Christmas?’
‘That’d be...good,’ Jo said with a sideways look at Finn. How did he feel about this? She felt completely thrown.
‘Excellent,’
