Page 111 of Beside Golden Irish Fields
“A romantic relationship is different than a personal one,” Tom said. “I’ll be going now.”
When he turned to leave, Donal grabbed his arm. “What if Bets agrees not to have nudes taught here anymore?”
Give in to them? “Wait, I—”
“Let him answer, Bets.” Donal shot her a look, and she held her tongue, trusting him.
He rubbed his head again, then shook it. “There’s concern you’re stirring things up. Making our young people get ideas.”
She couldn’t believe this. “About what? The human body? What’s so wrong with that?”
“They’re dirty paintings, aren’t they?” Tom’s face began to turn red as well.
“You have got to be—”
“These are pretty strong accusations, Tom,” Donal said, staring the man down.
He only lifted his weak chin. “Gives me no pleasure to say it. Bets, it doesn’t take a genius to know why you ladies want to draw naked men.”
Donal snorted over Bets’ gasp. “And what if I want to draw a naked woman, Tom?”
The man coughed loudly before saying, “That’s your business, I suppose, but the county council doesn’t plan to sanction it—even with you being a member.”
“Something I’ll be seeing to after this, you can bet,” Donal said. “Is this a decision we can appeal?”
“No.” His tone was emphatic. “I’ll be off now.”
Bets stomped her feet as he sped away. “This is unbelievable. Mary’s been busy. Dammit! I can take losing the rose competition because I’ll have another shot, but I can’t let her close down my arts center. I love it, Donal. Expanding it is my dream.”
“I know that,” he said, taking her hands. “We’ll figure something out.”
“You don’t have to give up your place on the council over this,” she said, leaning into his chest.
“I’m tired of all the bullshit anyway. Besides, he’s right. If you put in a planning permission application for expanding the center, I would have had to recuse myself.”
“Because we’re in a relationship?” she asked, the only silver lining at the moment.
“We are.” He traced her cheek. “This won’t be easy, Bets. But I’m with you all the way.”
She didn’t doubt him, not anymore. In fact, she was starting to see how they could fit into each other’s lives. “You know, Donal. If I had a rose to name, I’d call it Love’s Promise. After you.”
This time he pulled her to him and kissed her senseless.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Hearing the news about the arts center had ramped up the pain in Angie’s head.
“That’s it then,” she said, falling back into the pillows. “There’s nothing for us here.”
Her sister gasped from her seat in the corner of the room, a spot she’d rarely left since Angie had been released from the hospital yesterday.
“Don’t say that!” Bets said, sitting on the side of her bed. “Donal and I will think of something. People in the village are outraged, and I’ve a mind to tell Mary Kincaid to meet me with pistols at dawn.”
“Bets,” Angie said, patting her hand. “Don’t kid a kidder. Not everyone will be in favor of me teaching nudes.”
Megan was shaking her head. “Imagine if I’d taught how to make nude sculptures.”
Had Megan ever made one of those? Angie would have paid to see it.
