Page 30 of The Princess and Her Mercenary

Chapter Sixteen

Keane chartered a small aircraft and a pilot to get them from Prague to Dublin with the ease of a man who knew how to get anyplace, anywhere, any time. Ndari was impressed with his jet setting abilities. He made it look effortless, no big deal. He always had transportation and accommodations ready for them no matter where they went, or how short the notice was. This man really knew how to take care of a Princess.

Ndari could feel his nerves almost the entire time they were flying but couldn't talk to him about it. For one thing the pilot was there, even though for the most part he ignored his two passengers, but he could still overhear them. Despite the pilot, Ndari would’ve drawn Keane into conversation about what was bothering him if his body language wasn’t so closed off. He was sitting turned away from her, gazing out the widow thoughtfully, a frown marring his brows. He wasn't open to talking and that was fine. She'd managed to convince him to go back to Ireland. And that was enough for now.

When they arrived, he collected their bags and silently escorted her away from the plane and toward a waiting car. He opened her door and helped her slide into her seat, even going so far as to reach around her and buckle her seat belt. Yet still she felt his tension. He didn't have the relaxed ease that he'd had in Prague and Paris.

Silently they drove. His eyes were on the road. He wasn't saying anything, so Ndari took the opportunity to look all around her and get acquainted with Dublin. This was a place she had never been. She’d never really had the desire to visit. There was no awesome shopping that she knew of. No royalty, not even very many rich people to hang out with.

Yet Dublin had a charm all its own and she was more than ready to experience it with Keane as her guide.

“Don't even know if my mum lives in the same place,” Keane commented after they've been driving for about 20 minutes.

She twisted in her seat to look at him. “We'll find her. Even if she's not in the same house that you grew up in. We will find a way to find her. You know we will.”

He didn't say anything. He didn't look at her.

Another 15 minutes of driving and they were headed outside the city.

“I thought you lived in Dublin,” she asked, confused, as she twisted in her seat to look at the city disappearing behind them.

“Yeah, close,” he said.

“Okay,” she murmured, content to watch the pretty scenery passing them by.

They drove until they came upon a small town that was indeed not very far outside Dublin.

“This is where I grew up,” he said, navigating slowly through the village streets.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

“Here we are,” he said, pulling up to a house.

It was a small house and it might have been considered somewhat ramshackle but Ndari could tell that someone had taken extra special care of it. Even though the paint was peeling, there were little window boxes of flowers on each window. And next to the front steps was a couple of pots overflowing with petunias. The yard was neat and tidy, not a blade of grass out of place and no litter floating across the area.

Somebody had lovingly and meticulously cared for this home.

When Keane saw the flowers by the front steps, he grunted, “She still lives here.”

“Oh good,” Ndari said brightly skipping out ahead of him. “Let's go in then.”

He followed her at a slightly slower pace as she walked up to the door and knocked briskly. It took a couple of minutes, but finally the door cracked open. A woman who looked to be maybe in her 50s or 60s stood in the doorway.

Ndari was surprised. This woman looked younger than she had expected. Keane was in his late 30s, maybe even 40s. And this woman looked like she could be his older sister. Her hair was red as well but a darker shade than Keane’s. She was tall and thin. And though she was probably very beautiful once, age, and maybe grief, had taken some of her youth. Wrinkles of exhaustion etched the skin beside her eyes and mouth. These were not lines of happiness. These were lines of concern.

Ndari’s heart beat a little faster. She hoped she hadn't made a mistake in bringing Keane here. What if his mother rejected him? What if Ndari was responsible for that rejection, for helping to raise Keane’s hopes, only to watch them be crushed. Ndari decided she would beat the crap out of his mother is she dared to reject her son.

Mrs. Keane lifted her eyes and she spotted her son. Ndari’s fears melted away. The way her eyes lit up with happiness when she saw him spoke volumes.

“Linton!” she cried and launched herself out the door, throwing herself into his arms. “My son, you’ve come back to me.”

The look of surprise on his face told Ndari he hadn't been expecting this reaction from his mother. She didn't know what he was expecting. Rejection, anger maybe. What he got was tears and happiness.

He held the older woman, rocking her against him while Ndari sniffled back her own tears.

“It's been so long,” Mrs. Keane cried.

“I know,” he said huskily, “and I'm sorry. I didn't think I'd be welcome back here.”

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