“Oh, ah…” He seemed to realize he was repeating the same stammered response, so he gulped and glanced at Liv before looking back at me and starting again. “Fine.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing, especially when he began checking his pockets, probably for his beloved hand sanitizer. I doubted he was even aware he was doing it. He was just so fucking sweet and flustered.
“I doubt you’re fine in the head, Hudson. Would you like some paracetamol?”
He blinked at me like I’d just spoken in Mandarin Chinese.
“I don’t know what that is,” he admitted, looking anywhere but at me. “But I took some headache medicine in my room.”
He seemed overly nervous. I got the feeling I wasn’t the tour guide he’d wanted, and that thought disappointed me. Maybe he was just embarrassed about the stuff he’d said to me the night before? I really hoped that was all it was because already I was feeling the sting of rejection.
I forced a smile and nodded. “Right then, we’re off. Come with me, Mr. Wilde.”
Hudson winced at the honorific but dutifully followed. I left my dog salivating at Liv’s feet and led Hudson out the front door and partway down the front path before turning back around to face the front of the building. The rumble of one of our delivery vans was accompanied by the crunch of gravel, drawing my attention away for a moment.
“You’re a money man, right?” I asked, remembering what my uncle had said about the reason for the tour.
“What? No. I’m a… yes. I mean, no. I’m a financial analyst. But I’m here for…” Hudson hesitated and swallowed. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Perhaps it wasn’t nerves at all but a true affliction of some kind.
“I was under the impression you were here to help with the finances,” I said. “You’re here to assess the books, right?”
He let out a breath. “Yes. I’m here to assess the books. Exactly.”
The man was odd. And he was a corporate type after all, which meant he was most likely a selfish prick under all that aw-shucks charm. I needed to remember that and not get distracted by his cute blushes or odd little quirks that seemed to worsen when he was tense.
“Right. Well, let’s begin with a little history. This land has been in the Murray family for hundreds of years. Originally, there was a small cottage on the land, and the family kept sheep, as did most of the other people around these parts. That timber cottage burned down in the early 1800s, and the family built a larger house with brick made by a traveling brickmaker.
“As the area grew and populated a bit more, the original pub was built with local slate flagstones. I’ll point out a spot where you can see eel fossils in the flagstone. Pretty cool,” I added, raising my arm to point out which part of the large sprawling building in front of us was the original pub. “You can see the flagstone walls there to get an idea of the size of the original pub. As the place grew more popular and the area here with the cliffs became more of a tourist destination, the Murray family added on the guesthouse portion of the building above and to the right.”
I pointed to the part of the building where his room was located. He seemed interested enough for me to continue.
“That window there with the curtain still drawn is your room. The reason it’s difficult to find is because of the way the buildings were added on to over time. There was never any singular grand plan, just wings and additions added as the needs grew. Fig and Bramble is the only guesthouse located within easy walking distance to the Cliffs of Moher, which means it’s always benefitted immensely from the tourists visiting the area. The rooms are almost always sold out.
“To the left you can see a different wing of rooms that were added on more recently. That section is the newest portion tacked on to the original building, and it was built in the 1960s to accommodate this tourism effect.”
Hudson shifted to face me. “Why haven’t more pubs and inns sprouted up nearby? The closest place is eight kilometers away.”
I nodded. “That’s what makes Fig and Bramble so special. Because the land was in the Murray family so long ago, when the tourism to the Cliffs became a thing, the trails and footpaths to the best views were through the Murray holdings. The family is the only one with rights and property this close. Hence, the success of the company and the continued pride of the Murray family.”
For some reason, I refrained from mentioning I was a Murray. I wasn’t sure why, but something held me back. Perhaps I didn’t want to make it weird between us since he was there to assess the family business. I knew since Uncle Devlin had taken over for my father, money had been tight. I assumed Dev wasn’t as good at the money side and was struggling. Cait and I had tried to help, but he wouldn’t hear of it. If things were as bad as we imagined, maybe I didn’t want Hudson to paint me with the same brush and assume I was bad at business too.