Pursued by the Rogue (The Fairy Tales of New York Book 1) by Kelly Hunter Page A

to do so with a little less urgency and a whole lot more politeness because somewhere in the whirl of his brain he remembered the presence of mothers and figured that what with all that was going down, Dawn’s mother might be somewhere around.
    The door opened and a woman stood there. An older woman with eyes the same color as Dawn’s. “Mrs. Turner?” he said, feeling all of seventeen years old again. “I’m Finbar Sullivan.” At least he’d had enough sense to introduce himself. “Is Dawn around?”
    “She’s not here right now.” There was another woman behind the first one. More gray eyes, these ones tinged with blue. Which one was her mother and which one the aunt?
    “Would you like to come in?” the second woman said.
    “No, I—no. I just need to find her.”
    The door opened wider. The first woman’s fine features took on an implacable set. “Come in, Finbar.”
    He went in.
    “This is my sister, Meg Dawson,” she said, gesturing towards the other woman. “I’m Vivian, Dawn’s mother. As you surmised.”
    Yes, yes. Points for him. “Do you know where she is?”
    “Yes.” He could see where Dawn got her cool assurance from. “Coffee?”
    “No, I—”
    “Vivi, stop torturing him.”
    Yes . He was all for that plan. “I only just found out about the Huntington’s and the test,” he said. “I need to see her. Now. Before she finds out.”
    “Young man.” Dawn’s mother was implacable. “My daughter let you go for a reason. If she has this disease she’s in for a rough time, and so are the people who love her. Take it from someone who knows. Being with someone who has Huntington’s is not for the fainthearted.”
    That was the second time this morning that someone had questioned his feelings for Dawn.
    “I am not faint of heart.” He had fortitude and determination enough for both of them. “I’ve been reading on the way here in the cab. She’s still got time. We’ve still got time.”
    “To do what?” Dawn’s mother asked quietly.
    “To make life beautiful and meaningful and full of memories we can grow old with. It’s not too late for Dawn and me. She’s only twenty-seven. We’ve got time.”
    Dawn’s mother seemed to crumple, just a little bit.
    “Vivian,” her sister said softly, coming closer to stand by Dawn’s mother and gently touch her on the arm. “Do you really want Dawn to do to him what you did to her? Pushed her away in the mistaken thought that she’d be happier away from it all? Because I’m telling you from the sidelines, that didn’t work out so well. Not for anyone. Give him the address.”
    “There’s a referral letter on the desk in Dawn’s study. The address is at the top of it,” Vivian said quietly. “Will you get it for me please, Meg?”
    Meg retreated in the direction of Dawn’s bedroom. Finn watched until he could no longer see her and then ran a hand through his hair and wondered whether it had seen a comb this morning. He didn’t think so. Desperate, hungover and untidy. Not a good look to bring to an introductory meeting with Dawn’s mother.
    He took a deep and steadying breath, turned his attention back towards the woman who was currently studying him like a bug under a microscope, and he waited for some new hammer to fall.
    It was that kind of morning.
    “Dawn hasn’t told me much about you. How you met. What you do,” Vivian Turner began.
    “We met ten years ago through my sister. I’m a musician.” He gave her the abbreviated version.
    “Are you a good musician?”
    “I like to think so.” Although after last night … “I’m not short of work. Or money, if that’s what you’re thinking. I have a good reputation.”
    “If you stick by my Dawn and she has Huntington’s, your career’s going to suffer. Your priorities will change. Are you ready for that?”
    “Not yet,” he said stubbornly. “But I will be.”
    She smiled a little at that.
    “For fifteen years I lived the dream. The man I loved at my