She couldn’t believe how lucky she’d gotten. The place was perfect—absolutely perfect. “Miss?” Jerking herself back to reality, she smiled at the young, American-accented bellboy—or porter, or whatever they called them in Ireland. He took her suitcase, and she followed him into the foyer. God, the place was perfect. After she’d spoken to Fintan Dunne, things had just fallen into place. Lynne was a treasure, and within half an hour of their first conversation, she’d found a castle that had just had a wedding cancelled for the weekend they needed. They therefore had available reception rooms, a gorgeous ballroom, and suitable accommodation for almost all the guests. The wonderful staff had also stepped up and found places nearby for the overflow of guests. Now she crossed the lobby slowly, examining her surroundings in detail. This was clearly the older part of the castle, which she’d been told dated from the mid-thirteenth century. The owners had been very sensitive to the building’s origins when they turned it into a hotel, so the lobby, while elegant and fitted with the necessary furniture, looked more like a medieval hall than a modern hotel lobby.
