He choked on his wine. He was laughing and whooping for air when he caught the glint of Brianna’s narrowed gaze. “Sorry—I can see that wasn’t meant to be a joke.”

“Some people find it easy to laugh at another’s beliefs.”

“I don’t mean to.” But he couldn’t quite get the chuckles under control. “Christ, Brie, you’ve just told me the man’s eighty and his blushing bride is right behind him. You don’t really believe they’re going to some fiery hell because they . . .” He decided he’d better find a delicate way of putting it. “They’ve had a mature, mutually satisfying physical relationship.”

“No.” Some of the ice melted from her eyes. “No, I don’t, of course. But Mother does, or says she does, because it makes it easier to complain. Families are complicated, aren’t they?”

“From what I’ve observed. I don’t have one to worry about myself.”

“No family?” The rest of the ice melted into sympathy. “You lost your parents?”

“In a manner of speaking.” It would have been more apt, he supposed, to say they had lost him.

“I’m sorry. And you’ve no brothers, no sisters?”

“Nope.” He reached for the bottle again to top off his glass.

“But you’ve cousins, surely.” Everyone had someone, she thought. “Grandparents, or aunts, uncles.”

“No.”

She only stared, devastated for him. To have no one. She couldn’t conceive of it. Couldn’t bear it.

“You’re looking at me like I’m some foundling bundled in a basket on your doorstep.” It amused him, and oddly, it touched him. “Believe me, honey, I like it this way. No ties, no strings, no guilts.” He drank again, as if to seal the words. “Simplifies my life.”

Empties it, more like, she thought. “It doesn’t bother you, having no one to go home to?”

“It relieves me. Maybe it would if I had a home, but I don’t have one of those, either.”

The gypsy, she recalled, but she hadn’t taken him literally until now. “But, Grayson, to have no place of your own—”

“No mortgage, no lawn to mow or neighbor to placate.”

He leaned over her to glance out the window. “Look, there’s Dublin.”

But she looked at him, felt for him. “But when you leave Ireland, where will you go?”

“I haven’t decided. That’s the beauty of it.”

“You’ve got a great house.” Less than three hours after landing in Dublin, Gray stretched his legs out toward the fire in Rogan’s parlor. “I appreciate your putting me up.”

“It’s our pleasure.” Rogan offered him a snifter of after-dinner brandy. They were alone for the moment, as Brianna and Maggie had driven to his grandmother’s to help the bride with last-minute arrangements.

Rogan still had trouble picturing his grandmother as a nervous bride-to-be. And more trouble yet, imagining the man even now haranguing the cook as his future step-grandfather.

“You don’t look too happy about it.”

“What?” Rogan glanced back at Gray, made himself smile. “No, I’m sorry, it’s nothing to do with you. I’m a bit uneasy about tomorrow, I suppose.”

“Giving-the-bride-away jitters?”

The best Rogan could come up with was a grunt.

Reading his host well, Gray tucked his tongue in his cheek and stirred the unease. “Niall’s an interesting character.”

“A character,” Rogan muttered. “Indeed.”

“Your grandmother had stars in her eyes at dinner.”

Now Rogan sighed. She had never looked happier. “They’re besotted with each other.”

“Well . . .” Gray swirled his brandy. “There are two of us and one of him. We could overpower him, drag him off to the docks, and put him on a ship bound for Australia.”

“Don’t think I haven’t considered it.” But he smiled now, easier. “There’s no picking family, is there? And I’m forced to admit the man adores her. Maggie and Brie are delighted, so I find myself outgunned and outvoted.”

“I like him,” Gray said in grinning apology. “How can you not like a man who wears a jacket the shade of a Halloween pumpkin with tasseled alligator shoes?”

“There you are.” Rogan waved an elegant hand. “In any case, we’re pleased to be able to provide you with a wedding during your stay in Ireland. You’re comfortable at Blackthorn?”

“Brianna has a knack for providing the comfortable.”

“She does.”

Gray’s expression sobered as he frowned into his drink. “Something happened a few days ago that I think you should know. She didn’t want me to mention it, particularly to Maggie. But I’d like your take on it.”

“All right.”

“The cottage was broken into.”

“Blackthorn?” Startled, Rogan set his brandy aside.

“We were outside, in that shed she uses for potting. We might have been in there for half an hour, maybe a little longer. When we went back in, someone had tossed the place.”

“Excuse me?”

“Turned it upside down,” Gray explained. “A fast, messy search, I’d say.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” But he leaned forward, worried. “Was anything taken?”

“I had some cash in my room.” Gray shrugged it off. “That seems to be all. Brianna claims none of the neighbors would have come in that way.”

“She’d be right.” Rogan sat back again, picked up his brandy but didn’t drink. “It’s a closely knit community, and Brie’s well loved there. Did you inform the garda?”

“She didn’t want to, didn’t see the point. I did speak with Murphy, privately.”

“That would tend to it,” Rogan agreed. “I’d have to think it was some stranger passing through. But even that seems out of place.” Dissatisfied with any explanation, he tapped his fingers against the side of his glass. “You’ve been there some time now. You must have gotten a sense of the people, the atmosphere.”

“Next stop Brigadoon,” Gray murmured. “Logic points to a one-shot deal, and that’s how she’s handling it.” Gray moved his shoulders. “Still, I don’t think it would hurt for you to keep an eye out when you come back.”