LINDA O'BRIEN Romance Author BALLYROURKE preview at The Romance Club http://www.theromanceclub.com Ireland, Love Story, Romance, Irish Eyes

TRC's 3rd Annual Halloween Event
October 12th - November 1st

What would you do if you suddenly inherited an estate in Ireland, and had never even been told you had Irish kin?

What would you do if a fiery, passionate Irishman tried to take it all away from you?

Step back into Ireland of the 1800s as American born Katherine Rourke journeys to the land of lush, rolling green hills, fragrant heather, and a magnificent mansion, to unravel the mystery of her father's death, meet a family she never knew she had, and fall in love with a passionate Irishman who could destroy it all.

Colin MacCormack braced his hands on the crumbling brick sill, leaned out the arched window high up in the ancient round tower, and inhaled the rain-freshened air, glad to be back on his own land after three weeks away. His land. The very sound of those words was a battle cry to his embittered soul.

No matter that it now had a British owner, by rights Ballyrourke should belong to his people, the O'Rourke clan -- every rolling hill and emerald pasture, gurgling stream and fragrant heather, fertile farmland and thatched cottage, and even the big house, occupied now by the English Lawthrops.

The last owner, or landlord, as the British preferred to call them, Sir Lionel Lawthrop, had passed away a year ago, and his wife Millicent had died recently. Now a search was on by their solicitors to find the heir named in Lady Lawthrop's will.

The entire clan was holding its collective breath to see who that heir would be, fearing Ballyrourke would fall into the hands of Sir Lionel's only son Horace, who was despised by them all. For Colin, that hatred was even more intense, for it was by Horace's own actions that his mother and sister had died.

"Colin!" a young voice shouted from below, breaking into his musings. "You're back! Have you heard the news?"

Colin glanced down at the bright red head of young Dermot O'Rourke. "What news?"

"I'll be right down." Colin's heart swelled with fresh hope as he gazed out at his beloved Ballyrourke. A new will? Was it possible? Could it be that they were to be spared ever seeing that devil's face again?

When Horace Lawthrop left suddenly last year, all of Ballyrourke had rejoiced. No one knew the reason behind his sudden departure, nor did they care, still they all thanked God for it. Yet after he'd gone, had the O'Rourkes taken steps to reclaim what was theirs? No. They'd done nothing.

Colin's frustration at their complacence grew by the day. It seemed to him that in losing the land, they'd lost their self-respect, too.

O'Rourkes had first settled there in 1100 A.D., and by the very dint of their hands had worked that land until, by the sixteenth century, it had become one of the wealthiest estates in County Wicklow. Sean O'Rourke, then the clan's patriarch, had built a fine brick home for his large family, which he'd filled with the ancient artifacts and family treasures passed down from those early ancestors.

But in the seventeenth century, O'Rourke and all the other Irish of means who wouldn't swear allegiance to the English crown had been stripped of their estates. The estates had been given to foreigners, mostly Englishmen loyal to the Queen, reducing the Irish to sudden poverty. Most went west to Connaught, but the O'Rourkes stayed out of a fierce devotion to their land. They built cottages and grew crops to pay their rent. They became tenants on their own soil. Colin's gut roiled each time he thought of the terrible injustice of it.

Well, if no one else would take a stand, if no one else would fight the injustice, then, by all the saints in heaven, he would. He took pride in his strength of conviction and unswerving devotion to his people. He'd take back what was rightfully theirs so his family could live as they were meant to – masters of their own land.

This news of another will made Colin want to shout for joy. It seemed a higher power had taken his side at last.

Colin followed the lad to the cramped, thatched roof cottage where Patrick and Eileen O'Rourke and their two children lived. As the eldest O'Rourke male, Patrick was the head of the clan, but it seemed to Colin that he was the one everyone looked to.

The small cottage smelled of straw and peat, and onions simmering in a peppery lamb broth in a huge pot Eileen was tending.

"Is it true, Eileen?" Colin asked, ducking his head to fit his six foot height through the doorway. "Is there another will?"

Eileen pressed a hand in the small of her back as she stirred the contents of the iron pot. Eight-and-a-half months pregnant, she was a small-framed woman with a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and a ready smile. Today, however, she looked weary and wan. "`Tis but a rumor, Colin. Don't get your hopes up."

"Aye," she said with a regretful sigh. "One of the maids up at the house swore the old lady wrote a new will, but it has yet to turn up. Besides, the Lawthrop heir has been found and is on her way."

Eileen turned to gaze at him. "They've found Garrett and Suzannah's daughter Katie living in America."

"Aye, Colin, saints be praised, for it's not Horace! And don't forget, Katie is an O'Rourke as much as she is a Lawthrop."

Colin scoffed in disdain. In his mind Katie was pure Lawthrop. What else could she be? Her mother Suzannah had been Sir Lionel's only daughter. She had raised Katie alone after her husband Garrett O'Rourke had died on a return trip to Ballyrourke many years ago. Suzannah had cut off all ties with the O'Rourkes after that, no doubt out of spite.

"Sure, Katie won't want to give up her easy life in America to come here, now will she?" "Wishful thinkin', Colin, but this moment they're readying the house for her. And what makes you think Katie's had an easy life, with no father to support her? Now the poor child has lost her mother, as well. She has no one but us, so be kind."

"The poor child is all grown now, Eileen, and still has her dear Uncle Horace. Anyway, she's never considered us kin, nor we her. Why would she want us now?"

"If it's an argument you're wantin', Colin, go have a pint with your friends down at Teach O'Malley," Eileen chided. "I'm just about to serve up the stew. Will you have a bowl with us?"

"You'll not do anything foolish, will you, Colin? You'll forget about that silly rumor of another will."

Colin followed the worn path from their cottage to Kilwick road, which led straight to Lawthrop House, where he intended to find out about the rumor first hand. As the Lawthrop's estate manager, he had the run of the place, having taken over that position from his father James MacCormack, who'd been killed by a stroke just two years ago.

He strode up the wide, curving stone steps leading to the main entrance of the red brick house. Ordinarily he'd use the side entrance that led straight into the kitchen, but today he wanted to imagine himself as owner of this grand home. He stopped at the door and turned to gaze at the park, separated from the house by the brick drive.

The park was enclosed on its outer three sides by a low fieldstone wall. A garden took up the center of the park, its four square flower beds crisscrossed by brick paths and punctuated by a circular pond in the center. The pond was enclosed by benches, with a fountain in the middle.

What a beauty it was, too, designed and built by O'Rourke hands, as were the rest of the grounds. With a contented sigh, Colin turned and rapped the door with the heavy iron doorknocker. It was opened by a young, black-haired maid in a starched white apron and gray dress.

"Morning, my sweet Doreen," he said, doffing his cap. "Might you have a cup of tea for me?"

"And where's that old workhorse Grainwe this morning?" he asked, chucking the young woman beneath the chin as he slipped past her into the marble-floored hall.

"Didn't you think I knew that?" He swung around and pinched the cheek of the elderly housekeeper who stood with her ample arms crossed over her white-aproned chest. "What's this I hear about a new will?"

"You'd have to ask Mary Flynn about that," Grainwe said of the upstairs maid. "Mary swears Lady Lawthrop wrote it on her death bed. Well then, I ask you, where is this will?"

"Have ye lost yer mind?" Grainwe retorted. "We can't go rummaging through her ladyship's personal effects."

"We can if it means getting back our land." Colin started up the winding staircase on the right of the foyer.

"Her mother has moved to Dublin, and ye won't find Mary there, either. She eloped with Danny O'Doyle."

Grainwe hiked up her long skirt and went after him. "Over my dead body ye will, Colin MacCormack! We've got Mistress Katherine due any time and the room's been prepared. I'll not allow the likes of ye to disturb it. Besides, Lady Lawthrop's personal effects have been moved out, and I'd have seen a will had there been one lyin' about."

"The likes of me?" Colin asked in mock chagrin. "A hard working manager who thinks you're the loveliest woman on the face of the earth?"

Grainwe grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. "Yer charm is wasted on me, ye arrogant pup. We've got too much to do without havin' ye in our way."

Colin glanced down at pretty little Doreen, standing at the bottom gazing up at him with interest. If Grainwe wouldn't divulge the information, he could always coax Doreen into telling him. He had a way with women.

He hooked his arm through the older woman's and walked down with her. "So what do you know about the fair Mistress Katherine?"

Grainwe's cheeks flushed red. "Nothing but that she's coming, and to ready the house."

The housekeeper yanked her arm away. "Why would ye think I'd hide something from ye?"

Grainwe stopped at the bottom and faced him squarely, her rheumy eyes searching his. "Horace Lawthrop is coming back, too."

Colin felt the old bitterness burn in his gut as he took his horse from the stall and saddled up. Grainwe's last words echoed again and again in his mind: Horace Lawthrop is coming back.

He led the mare out of the stable, swung up onto the saddle and headed for the lane, where he started off at a gallop. The wind tousled his hair and took his breath away as they dashed across the rolling terrain, man and beast, riding as one. For a few blissful moments he forgot about Horace, but as Colin brought the exhausted horse to a stop near a stream and dismounted, the image of the devil's sharp-beaked face returned to haunt him, as it had so often when Colin was young.

He'd been but twelve years old when agriculture prices across Ireland plummeted, causing many tenant farmers to fall into arrears. Those who couldn't pay their rents were mercilessly evicted from their small cottages, including most of the O'Rourkes, who were personally driven out by Horace, acting on Sir Lionel's behalf.

Colin's family, the MacCormack branch, had put aside enough money to see them through, but Horace had cleverly and diabolically sabotaged their efforts and evicted them anyway. Colin's mother and seven-year-old sister, both ailing, had died soon afterward from malnutrition and disease.

Eventually, conditions had improved, and the families had been able to return to their cottages, but Colin had never again trusted the Lawthrops, nor had he ever forgiven Horace for his cruel deed. In Colin's eyes, Horace Lawthrop had murdered his family the same as if he'd shot them through the heart.

In an attempt to protect the O'Rourkes from Horace after Sir Lionel had passed on, Colin had made an offer on behalf of the clan to buy the estate a piece at a time, paying as they could afford. Lady Lawthrop had turned him down, saying only that they would have to sacrifice too much for too long to raise that kind of money.

However, Colin had come up with another plan. Lawthrop House contained art purchased by Sean O'Rourke centuries ago, originally displayed in the house, but now relegated to the attic, replaced by the Lawthrops' personal collection. That ancient artwork was now highly desired by collectors, according to the art dealer he'd met in Dublin. By rights that art should still belong to the clan. Didn't he then have the right to sell them for the good of the clan?

If the new will turned out to be a fabrication, then Colin still had his plan. And if that plan failed, he'd come up with another. This was a battle he was determined to win.

Colin was jarred from his thoughts when his horse nudged his shoulder. He stroked her velvety nose. "Had enough of a rest, Lizzie?"

The clop of horses' hooves brought his head around with a jerk. In the distance he saw a hired coach heading toward Lawthrop House.

"Well, Lizzie," he muttered grimly, "seems it's time to meet our new landlord."
#

Azure blue skies. Fluffy white clouds. Rolling green pastureland dotted with grazing sheep. The scents of sweet grass and heather. And in the background, a sweep of mauve-hued mountains. Katherine sighed as she took it all in from the window of her carriage. Breathtaking was the only word to come to mind. Positively breathtaking!

She still couldn't believe her sudden fortune. She was an heiress! If only it hadn't come with such a painful price.

Only a month ago Katherine had believed herself to be the daughter of British born parents, both from hard-working farm families. Then she'd answered a knock on her door, and her world had turned on its ear.

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