The Irish Trilogy by Nora Roberts
Nora Roberts
The Irish Trilogy
Irish Thoroughbred
Irish Rose
Irish Rebel
Nora Roberts
Nora Roberts
Hot Ice
Sacred Sins
Brazen Virtue
Sweet Revenge
Public Secrets
Genuine Lies
Carnal Innocence
Divine Evil
Honest Illusions
Private Scandals
Hidden Riches
True Betrayals
Montana Sky
Sanctuary
Homeport
The Reef
River’s End
Carolina Moon
The Villa
Midnight Bayou
Three Fates
Birthright
Northern Lights
Blue Smoke
Angels Fall
High Noon
Tribute
Black Hills
The Search
Chasing Fire
The Witness
Series
Irish Born Trilogy
Born in Fire
Born in Ice
Born in Shame
Dream Trilogy
Daring to Dream
Holding the Dream
Finding the Dream
Chesapeake Bay Saga
Sea Swept
Rising Tides
Inner Harbor
Chesapeake Blue
Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy
Jewels of the Sun
Tears of the Moon
Heart of the Sea
Three Sisters Island Trilogy
Dance Upon the Air
Heaven and Earth
Face the Fire
Key Trilogy
Key of Light
Key of Knowledge
Key of Valor
In the Garden Trilogy
Blue Dahlia
Black Rose
Red Lily
Circle Trilogy
Morrigan’s Cross
Dance of the Gods
Valley of Silence
Sign of Seven Trilogy
Blood Brothers
The Hollow
The Pagan Stone
Bride Quartet
Vision in White
Bed of Roses
Savor the Moment
Happy Ever After
The Inn BoonsBoro Trilogy
The Next Always
The Last Boyfriend
eBooks
The O’Hurleys
The Last Honest Woman
Dance to the Piper
Skin Deep
Without a Trace
The Donovan Legacy
Captivated
Entranced
Charmed
Enchanted
Cordina’s Royal Family
Affaire Royale
Command Performance
The Playboy Prince
Cordina’s Crown Jewel
The MacGregors
Playing the Odds
Tempting Fate
All the Possibilities
One Man’s Art
For Now, Forever
The MacGregor Brides
The Winning Hand
The MacGregor Grooms
The Perfect Neighbor
Rebellion & In from the Cold
Night Tales
Night Shift
Night Shadow
Nightshade
Night Smoke
Night Shield
The Calhouns
Courting Catherine
A Man for Amanda
For the Love of Lilah
Suzanna’s Surrender
Megan’s Mate
Irish Legacy Trilogy
Irish Thoroughbred
Irish Rose
Irish Rebel
Best Laid Plans
Loving Jack
Lawless
Summer Love
Boundary Lines
Dual Image
Nora Roberts & J. D. Robb
Remember When
J. D. Robb
Naked in Death
Glory in Death
Immortal in Death
Rapture in Death
Ceremony in Death
Vengeance in Death
Holiday in Death
Conspiracy in Death
Loyalty in Death
Witness in Death
Judgment in Death
Betrayal in Death
Seduction in Death
Reunion in Death
Purity in Death
Portrait in Death
Imitation in Death
Divided in Death
Visions in Death
Survivor in Death
Origin in Death
Memory in Death
Born in Death
Innocent in Death
Creation in Death
Strangers in Death
Salvation in Death
Promises in Death
Kindred in Death
Fantasy in Death
Indulgence in Death
Treachery in Death
New York to Dallas
Celebrity in Death
Anthologies
From the Heart
A Little Magic
A Little Fate
Moon Shadows
(with Jill Gregory, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Marianne Willman)
The Once Upon Series
(with Jill Gregory, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Marianne Willman)
Once Upon a Castle
Once Upon a Rose
Once Upon a Star
Once Upon a Kiss
Once Upon a Dream
Once Upon a Midnight
Silent Night
(with Susan Plunkett, Dee Holmes, and Claire Cross)
Out of This World
(with Laurell K. Hamilton, Susan Krinard, and Maggie Shayne)
Bump in the Night
(with Mary Blayney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
Dead of Night
(with Mary Blayney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
Three in Death
Suite 606
(with Mary Blayney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
In Death
The Lost
(with Patricia Gaffney, Mary Blayney, and Ruth Ryan Langan)
The Other Side
(with Mary Blayney, Patricia Gaffney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
The Unquiet
(with Mary Blayney, Patricia Gaffney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
Also available . . .
The Official Nora Roberts Companion
(edited by Denise Little and Laura Hayden)
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have control over and does not have any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
IRISH THOROUGHBRED
An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Harlequin Books edition / January 1992
InterMix eBook edition / July 2012
Copyright © 1981 by Nora Roberts.
Excerpt from Irish Rose copyright © 1988 by Nora Roberts.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN: 978-1-101-58918-2
INTERMIX
InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Contents
Also by Nora Roberts
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter One
Adelia Cunnane stared out the window without seeing the magic layer of clouds. Some formed into mountains, others glaciers, flattening and thinning into an ice-encrusted lake; but, for one experiencing her first air journey, she found the view uninspiring. Her mind was crowded with doubts and uncertainties that merged with a strong pang of homesickness for a small farm in Ireland. But both farm and Ireland were now very far away, and every minute that crawled by brought her closer to America and strangers. She knew, with a sigh of frustration, that nothing in her life had ever prepared her properly to cope with either.
Her parents had been killed in a lorry accident, leaving her an orphan at the tender age of ten. In the weeks that followed her parents’ deaths, Adelia had drifted though a fog of shock, turning inward to ward off the agony of separation, the strange and terrifying feeling of desertion. Slowly, a wall had been constructed around the pain, and she had thrown herself into the work of the farm with an adult’s dedication.
Her father’s sister, Lettie Cunnane, had taken over both child and farm, running both with a firm hand. Although never unkind, neither had she been affectionate: she had possessed little patience or understanding for the unpredictable, often tempestuous child.
The farm had been the only common ground between them, and woman and child had built their relationship with the dark, fertile soil and the hours of labor it required. They had lived and worked together for nearly thirteen years; then Lettie had suffered a paralyzing stroke, and Adelia had been forced to divide her time between the duties of the farm and caring for an invalid’s needs. Days and nights had merged together as she waged the determined battle to shoulder the increasing responsibility.
Her enemies had been the lack of time and the lack of money. When, after six long months, she was again left alone, Adelia was near the point of exhausted desperation. Her aunt was gone, and though she had worked unceasingly, the farm had had to be sold for taxes.
She had written to her only remaining relative, her father’s elder brother, Padrick, who had emigrated to America twenty years previously, informing him of his sister’s death. His answer had been immediate, the letter warm and loving, asking her to join him. The last sentence of the missive was a simple, gentle command: “Come to America; your home is with me now.”
So she had packed her few belongings, sold or given away what could not be taken with her, and said goodbye to Skibbereen and the only home she had ever known. . . .
A sudden movement of the plane jolted Adelia back from memory. She sat back against the cushions of her seat, fingering the small gold cross she always wore around her neck. There was nothing left for her in Ireland, she told herself, fighting against the flutters of her stomach. Everything she had loved there was dead, and Padrick Cunnane was the only family she had left, the only link with what she had once had. She pushed back a surge of sudden, unaccustomed fear. America, Ireland—what difference did it make? Her shoulders moved restlessly. She would manage. Hadn’t she always managed? She was determined not to be a burden to her uncle, the vague, shadowy man she knew only from letters, whom she had last seen when barely three. There would be work for her, she reasoned, perhaps on the horse farm her uncle had written of so often over the years. Her ability to work with animals was innate, and she had absorbed a varied knowledge of medicine through her experiences, her skill being such that she had often been called on to aid in a difficult calving or stitch up a rent hide. She was strong, despite her diminutive stature—and, she reminded herself with an unconscious squaring of shoulders, she was a Cunnane.
Surely, she told herself with more confidence, there would be a place for her at Royal Meadows, where her uncle worked as trainer for the Thoroughbred racing stock. There’d be no fields needing plowing, no cows needing milking, but she’d earn her bread and butter if she had to work as a scullery maid. She wondered suddenly, with a small frown, if they had scullery maids in America.
The plane touched down, and Adelia disembarked and entered the Dulles terminal in Virginia, where she found herself gaping in confusion, fascinated by the scene, confused by the babble of foreign tongues, the odd mixture of people. Her eyes lingered over an East Indian family in full native dress. She turned to observe two teenagers in faded denims strolling by hand in hand, followed by a scurrying middle-aged businessman clutching a leather briefcase.
Later, standing in the lobby, she looked around hoping to see a familiar face. Everyone rushing and hurrying, she thought. A body could be trampled and never seen again. . . .
“Dee, little Dee!” A man hurried toward her, a stockily built, compact man with a full thatch of curling gray hair, and she caught a glimpse of eyes as bright and blue as her father’s before she was enveloped in a warm, crushing hug. The thought occurred to her that it had been a lifetime since anyone had held her so close.
“Little Dee, I would have known you anywhere.” He pulled back and studied her face, eyes misty, smile tender. “It’s like looking into Kate’s face again—it’s the image of your mother, you are.”
&nbs
p; He continued to stare at her while she searched for her voice, his gaze taking in the deep, rich auburn hair falling in gleaming waves to her shoulders; the large, deep green of thickly lashed eyes; the tip-tilted nose and full mouth, which Aunt Lettie had described as impudent; the face now of a startled pixie.
“What a beautiful sight you are,” he said at last on a sigh of pure pleasure.
“Uncle Padrick?” she asked, finding a multitude of questions and emotions racing through her.
“And who else would you be thinking I might be?” He looked down at her with those well-remembered eyes, filled with love and laughter, and doubts, fears, and questions vanished in a wave of joy.
“Uncle Paddy,” she whispered as she flung her arms around his neck.
As they drove along the highway from the airport, Adelia stared about her in fresh amazement. Never had she seen so many cars, and all flying by at an outrageous speed. Everything moved so fast, and the noise, she marveled silently; the noise was enough to wake the dead. Shaking her head, she began to bombard her uncle with questions.
How far was it they were going? Did everyone drive so fast in America? How many horses were at Royal Meadows? When could she see them? Questions buzzed in her mind and through her lips, and Paddy answered them tolerantly, finding the soft lilt of her voice as sweet as a summer breeze.
“Where is it I’ll be working?”
He removed his eyes from the road a moment and glanced at her. “There’s no need for you to be working, Dee.”
“Oh, but Uncle Paddy, I must,” she disagreed, turning to face him. “I could work with the horses; I’ve a way with animals.”
Thick gray brows drew together in a doubtful frown. “I didn’t bring you all this way to be putting you to work.” Before she could protest, he went on. “And I don’t know what Travis would be thinking about me hiring my own niece.”
“Oh, but I’d do anything.” She brushed back masses of chestnut hair. “Groom the horses, muck out the stalls, cart hay—it doesn’t matter.” Unknowingly, she used her eyes in an outrageous manner. “Please, Uncle Paddy, it’s crazy I’d be in a week, not having some sort of work to do.”
Her eyes won the small battle, and Paddy squeezed her hand. “We’ll see.”
So engrossed had she been in their conversation and the fascinating stream of traffic that she had lost all track of time. When Paddy pulled into a drive and halted the car, Adelia gazed about her with new wonder.
