Love and Shenanigans (Ballybeg, Book 1) (The Ballybeg Series) Read Online Free PDF

took a dubious sip.
    Bernard’s self-satisfied smirk widened.
    “Isn’t it perfect?”
    “Hmm… not bad.” To Gavin’s undiscerning palate, it tasted like any other whiskey. He put the glass on the mantelpiece and turned to his fiancée. “All set for tomorrow?”
    She beamed. “I can’t wait. It’s going to be the best day of our lives.”
    “You’ll make a beautiful bride.” Deirdre patted her daughter on the arm in a rare display of physical affection. “The neighbors will be pea green with envy.”
    “Screw the neighbors,” Gavin said. “Once Muireann’s happy and having a good time, that’s all that counts.”
    Bernard snorted. “Impressions matter, especially in business. You’ll learn, lad.”
    Gavin refrained from comment. The Byrnes never missed an opportunity to network. He shouldn’t be surprised that Muireann’s parents saw her wedding as yet another opportunity to grandstand and lick the right arses.
    “Take this house, for instance.” Bernard was warming to his theme, his voice increasing in volume with every sentence. “Do you think it’s an accident that I bought it? No. Generations of my family worked the land on the Clonmore estate. They were treated little better than slaves and left to starve during the Great Famine. Now here I am, master of the house, while the present Earl of Clonmore lives in a shack on the other side of Ballybeg. That’s success in modern Ireland.”
    Gavin had heard the tale a thousand times. “The Major’s not exactly living in poverty. His house is a nice bungalow. Hardly what I’d call a shack. And if I recall correctly, this was the dower house, not the Earl’s residence.”
    Bernard shrugged. He wasn’t a man to let a few inaccuracies interfere with a good story. “But now that the old house has been converted into a hotel, Clonmore House is the largest
private
residence on the old estate.”
    The gong sounded, producing a melodious echo. The gong was a relatively new affectation in the Byrne household, and Gavin cringed every time he heard it.
    “Time for dinner.” Deirdre led the way into the ornate dining room, complete with an ugly table centerpiece Deirdre called an epergne.
    Gavin sat across from Muireann. Judging by the place settings, it was going to be a five-course meal. The acid burned deeper into his stomach lining. He took a deep gulp from his water glass.
    The food was perfectly prepared, but it tasted like sandpaper. He had to get a grip. Being nervous about tomorrow was one thing. Being a nervous wreck was quite another.
    He stared across the table at his bride-to-be. Muireann was fine-boned and classically beautiful with straight blond hair and large blue eyes. She was tiny next to his six-two frame, even in heels. Her soft-spoken manner charmed most men, but she didn’t find it easy to make female friends.
    Although Fiona and Muireann were first cousins, their surname was the only thing they had in common. Where Muireann was petite, Fiona was tall and curvaceous. Where Muireann was fair-haired, Fiona had a tumble of dark curls. And where Muireann was cool and collected, Fiona was fiery and chaotic.
    Unless, of course, she’d changed over the years. Remembering the spark of rage in Fiona’s eyes when Muireann and Deirdre called her fat, he doubted the past eight years had tamed her temper.
    He continued to pick at his food. Bernard had seconds at every course, wolfing his food and washing it down with several glasses of red wine.
    Deirdre and Muireann maintained a seemingly endless prattle about the wedding and who was planning to wear what and who had gained or lost weight or had “a little work” done on various parts of their anatomy.
    “I can’t believe Fiona split her dress.” Muireann tittered with ill-disguised glee. “What a fright she looked!”
    “She has no manners and no breeding.” Deirdre sniffed. “Hardly surprising, given her upbringing. I’d hoped a few years in Dublin would improve her sense of