To Tempt an Irish Rogue

by Kaitlin O'Riley

  “No, Jeffrey. I know he’s telling me the truth. He’s too wonderful and kind to his daughter to ever have hurt her mother in any way. I’m quite certain of that. It’s all simply vicious gossip.” Paulette grew surer of that fact every minute she spent with Declan Reeves.

  Jeffrey gave her a doubtful glance. “So, you are friends with this man who is rumored to have killed his wife in Ireland. How close is your friendship, may I ask?”

  “Well . . . we just met a few days ago. He’s alone in London and here to help his daughter, who hasn’t spoken since her mother died in a fire.”

  “And what does Lucien think of this ‘friendship’ of yours?”

  Paulette hesitated again before answering. “He doesn’t know about it.”

  “I gathered as much,” he said regretfully.

  “Jeffrey . . .” She faltered for a second. “I would appreciate it very much if you wouldn’t mention that you saw me out with Lord Cashelmore to Lucien or Colette . . . or to anyone else for that matter.”

  He stared at her hard. “Before I agree to something like that, I need you to be completely truthful with me, Paulette. How serious is this?”

  “What do you mean?” She wrung her hands together. Her mind flashed to their passionate kissing in his parlor yesterday afternoon and she felt her cheeks grow warm.

  “Is this a romance or just a friendship?”

  “Well, I don’t know exactly—”

  “Paulette, I’ve known you since you were fifteen years old. And not once in all those years have I ever seen you out with a gentleman.”

  “You don’t have to rub in that fact,” she said in her defense.

  “I’m not casting aspersions, sweet girl,” he said kindly. He gave her an understanding look. “I’m merely stating a fact. I’ve never seen you express so much as a passing interest in romance, unlike your younger sister, who seems fixated on the subject. So imagine my great surprise yesterday to find you seated rather intimately with an attractive man and his daughter, like a happy little family. It seemed as if . . .”

  “As if?”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “As if... you cared for each other as more than mere friends.”

  “It did?” Paulette’s heart flipped over. She wasn’t even sure how she felt about Declan Reeves, but to have others assume they were having a romance felt quite odd.

  “Yes, it did. So please explain to me why you are out with that man and not telling your family about it.” He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

  After a moment of silence, Paulette had no choice but to confide in Jeffrey as best she could. “I don’t know if I can explain it very well.”

  “Try.” He flashed a grin at her.

  “Well . . . Lord Cashelmore came in the shop a few days ago to buy a book for his little daughter, Mara. That evening I mentioned his name to Lucien and he told me of the accusations that were printed in the paper. When Lord Cashelmore visited the shop again, we talked and I asked him directly if he had harmed his wife. He denied that he had anything to do with her death but said that there were some people who wished to blame him for it.”

  “Did he say who these people were?”

  “No,” she admitted reluctantly. “But I’m sure he would if I asked him. Then he escorted me home and we made plans to walk in the park. I met him and Mara there on Sunday and that’s when you saw us.”

  “And that’s all?” Jeffrey seemed a bit skeptical by her accounting of events. “That’s it? That’s everything?”

  “Yes, that’s everything.” Essentially that was all that had happened between her and Declan. Aside from the kisses, and she thought it best to leave out the kissing details.

  “Have you feelings for him?” Jeffrey asked.

  Had she feelings for him? There was no doubt that she had feelings for Declan Reeves. Wild, tumultuous, inexplicable feelings. It was just that she wasn’t exactly positive what those feelings were. “I . . . I don’t know.”

  “Are you planning to see him again?”

  “Yes,” she confessed with some reluctance. “He’s coming back to the shop.”

  “I see.” The expression on his face hardened.

  “Oh, Jeffrey, please don’t tell Lucien or Colette,” she pleaded with him. “I promise I will tell them when I’m ready and when I figure out how I feel about him. In the meantime, they would only worry needlessly about me.”

  “I don’t know . . .” He hesitated, obviously torn by the decision he had to make. “I don’t like this situation, Paulette. I don’t like it one bit.”

  She looked up at him beseechingly, her hands clasped together. “Please, Jeffrey.”

  “I don’t understand why I always seem to be the one looking out for you girls and keeping all your secrets,” he grumbled under his breath, shaking his head.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. Secrets? Now that was an interesting new development. Just who else was Jeffrey keeping secrets for? Colette? Or Juliette?

  “Nothing.” He brushed aside his comment as if he hadn’t said it. “I’m just concerned for your well-being. Admittedly, I don’t know this Lord Cashelmore, but I don’t like what I’ve heard about him. After I saw you with him yesterday, I was curious so I checked in with some of the authorities with whom I have connections. You may as well know that it’s just a matter of time before formal charges are going to be brought against him, Paulette.”

  “But it’s not true!” she protested. Feeling sick at the thought of Declan being charged with murdering his wife when he was innocent, she shivered.

  “The authorities will bring him in before long. From what I could gather, it seems that there are those who say Lord Cashelmore’s wife died accidentally, but others say that he had motive to want her dead and that he caused the fire deliberately.”

  Paulette felt tears sting her eyes. “Declan would never do such a thing!”

  Jeffrey shook his head, his expression concerned. “You just met the man. You don’t know anything about him, Paulette.”

  “Neither do you,” she pointed out, growing a bit angry. “But I know him better than you do. And I’m telling you, Jeffrey, that Declan Reeves is not capable of killing someone. He’s not the kind of man who would intentionally harm someone, let alone the mother of his child. He loves that little girl and is thoughtful and kind to her. And to me. He may seem forbidding at first, but once you come to know him, he’s intelligent, and kind, and sweet, and funny, and—”

  “Oh, good Lord, you’ve kissed him already, haven’t you?” Jeffrey interrupted. His expression was one of abject misery.

  Stunned that he read her so easily, Paulette remained silent, feeling her cheeks burn. She could not deny the truth.

  “What is it with you Hamilton sisters?” he said to himself, shaking his head again.

  Ignoring the sudden turn in the conversation, Paulette continued. “He did not kill his wife, Jeffrey. I swear to you. He’s here in London to help his daughter, not because he’s hiding. He had nothing to do with her death. Declan is a good man. I know it and I’m an excellent judge of character.”

  “Well, being that I haven’t kissed the man as you have, I can’t say if he’s dangerous or not,” Jeffrey began sarcastically. “Is he a good man tarnished by tragic circumstances? Or is he a deceptive man who has possibly gotten away with murder? I can’t say for certain. But I do know you, Paulette Hamilton. You’re not a flighty girl, or an impressionable girl who is swayed by the slightest whim. You are one of the smartest and most practical women I’ve ever known. So . . . I’m going to trust you on this matter. If you trust him, I’ll give you that much. But I don’t like the situation at all, nor do I like the idea of keeping this from Lucien and Colette. But for the time being I won’t say a word about it unless they ask me directly or unless I deem it necessary to inform them.” He paused and looked at her intently. “You can continue to see your Lord Cashelmore. But I plan to keep an eye on you. And him. And I’m going to look into the mat
ter more closely.”

  Relief flooded Paulette at his pronouncement. He wasn’t going to tell her sister and brother-in-law. She was safe for a little while longer. “Thank you, Jeffrey.”

  He shook his head and muttered to himself. “How is it that once again I’m cast in the role of protector to you girls?”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he grumbled with a weary sigh. “But you need to be very careful, Paulette. Don’t do anything foolish and make me regret this decision.”

  “I won’t. I promise. Thank you, Jeffrey.”

  Sometimes Jeffrey was better than having a real brother. She didn’t think a real brother would be quite so understanding. But she loved him as if he were her true brother and she had since the first time she met him. She remembered that Jeffrey had shown up unexpectedly at her and Colette’s first reading group discussion at the bookshop. He had charmed them all that night with his wit and good humor. For a while, she and her sisters had believed there might be a romance between him and Juliette, and he had even followed Juliette to America when she ran away. But Juliette had married Captain Harrison Fleming and remained in the United States. And Jeffrey returned to London and continued to be an integral and beloved member of their family.

  Paulette walked from around the counter and leaned up on tiptoe, placing a kiss on Jeffrey’s cheek.

  “Don’t try and sweeten my mood with kisses, young lady. I’m not happy with this situation.” His words were hard but his expression was soft.

  “Yes, I am aware of how you feel and that makes me even more appreciative of you keeping your word.”

  “Be careful,” he admonished.

  “I will. I promise.”

  Paulette suddenly remembered the mysterious warning letter she received just before he arrived. For the flash of an instant she considered telling him about it and asking his advice, but if she showed the note to Jeffrey he would only become unhappier with the situation and most likely overreact and, worst of all, tell Lucien. She decided against mentioning it for now. Instead she changed the subject altogether. “How was the show last night with the fascinating Miss Hunter?”

  Jeffrey gave her a lopsided grin. “Delightful.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” She smiled back at him.

  The bell above the door jingled and some customers entered the shop. Their private conversation came to an unavoidable end. Jeffrey bid her farewell as Paulette had to assist her customers. Feeling a little remorseful that she had not told him about the letter, she soon found her thoughts occupied by the needs of the bookshop. It was a busy day, brightened later that afternoon by a visit from Declan Reeves and Mara.

  He arrived holding his daughter’s hand. Mara favored her with a warm smile and they spent an hour in the children’s section. Paulette chatted with Declan as best she could when she was not helping shoppers.

  And so it went. For an entire week, Declan and Mara came to visit the shop every day. It thrilled Paulette to know that Declan was coming to see her. And as luck would have it, Colette never seemed to be in the store when Declan stopped by. Although Lizzie Parker raised a questioning eyebrow at Declan’s daily appearances at the shop, she didn’t utter a single word and Paulette silently blessed her.

  Paulette found herself anticipating his visits and taking more care with her appearance each morning. Unlike Yvette, Paulette had never given much thought to how she looked before. She had always dressed prettily enough and possessed a fairly fashionable wardrobe. But now she spent time pondering which color looked better with her fair complexion and which gown showed off her figure to its best advantage and which hairstyle was more flattering to her face.

  Being attractive to Declan Reeves was suddenly very important to her as she looked forward to his visits each day. Something about him fascinated her. Perhaps it was his mysterious past. Perhaps it was the lyrical sound of his voice, the intensity of his green eyes, and the looks he gave her that made her knees go weak with desire. Or the memories of the kisses they shared. The ones she longed to experience again. Declan Reeves filled her thoughts during the day and her dreams at night.

  And Paulette simply wanted to be with him any time and any way that she could.

  Chapter 12

  Temptation

  Declan knew that Paulette would be closing up the shop about now and he struggled with his desire to see her and the fact that he knew he should stay away from her. He had taken Mara to Hamilton’s Book Shoppe every afternoon that week on the pretense of obtaining books for his little girl. Which was partly true, because Mara enjoyed their visits and loved the books Paulette chose for her, and Mara now had a stack of picture books almost as tall as she was.

  Yet he knew the true reason he was visiting the shop. He simply couldn’t stay away from Paulette Hamilton. And today was no exception.

  It wasn’t just because she was beautiful, though she most definitely was. It wasn’t just her intelligent blue eyes. It wasn’t her delicate face and silky golden blond hair. It wasn’t her sweet scent and soft skin. And it was more than her honesty and good nature. It was much more than her kindness and affection for Mara or her impressive business skills.

  It was simply her. Just Paulette. Everything about her enchanted him.

  And Paulette didn’t deserve to be dragged into the tangled nightmare that had become his world.

  During the last few years his life had certainly become one unending, inescapable hell.

  He glanced down at the letter he had received yesterday morning. Someone had slipped it under his front door, his butler told him, for it hadn’t come with the regular post. It was a warning letter of sorts. Threatening. He didn’t need to reread it, for the short message was seared into his memory.

  You killed Margaret. You will pay for her death. If not one way, then in another. Tread carefully. You may be next to die.

  He wondered who would send such a note to him. Most likely it was someone from Margaret’s family. It had to be one of her sisters. Ellen and Deirdre Ryan had never liked him and were no doubt furious that he had taken Mara from Ireland, but he couldn’t believe that either of them would resort to harassing him in such a cowardly and underhanded way. Would they? He wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  How had his once promising life come to this?

  He had been born into wealth and privilege and had been happy for the first part of his life. Then his parents had died in a violent carriage accident when Declan was ten years old, leaving him alone. Raised by nannies and tutors on the grand estate of Cashelmore Manor outside of Dublin, he had only his cousin Gerald O’Rourke as family. At nineteen he married Margaret Ryan because he had been in love with her. Or so he thought at the time. Now he could see that it had been more lust than love. They had been desperate to have each other and Declan had been too blinded by her to see the truth. His cousin Gerald had advised him against marrying Margaret, declaring the girl and her family nothing but trouble, but Declan had not heeded that advice. He’d given in to Margaret’s pleading to marry and his own desires.

  And what was not to want? Margaret was a desirable woman by any man’s standards. With silver blond hair, intense green eyes, and a face that melted hearts, Margaret was a force to be reckoned with even as a young girl. Everyone was in love with her, in spite of her mercurial moods and incomprehensible whims. From a distinguished family in Dublin, she had a line of eligible suitors vying for her fair hand. Each of her sisters had married very advantageously and Margaret’s parents had wanted their youngest daughter to wed the powerful Duke of Kilcarragh, who was more than agreeable to the arrangement, being quite taken with Margaret’s beauty. But he was older than the eighteen-year-old by almost twenty years and she wanted no part of him. Known for his gray hair and his grand estate called Cheshire Court, the Duke of Kilcarragh was eager for the match. But Declan was who Margaret wanted to rescue her from the duke and her family’s pressure to marry him.

  So Declan and Margaret r
an off to Galway, married in secret, and then faced the wrath of her family and that of the angry and humiliated Duke of Kilcarragh. The Ryan family had tried to have their union annulled but by then it was too late. Margaret was already carrying Declan’s child.

  Living at Cashelmore, Declan believed that the two of them had been happy enough in the beginning, in spite of all the drama that accompanied their marriage. When Mara was born, Declan was overjoyed to have a family. He instantly fell in love with his infant daughter and doted on her day and night. But things quickly fell apart between him and Margaret. She became more petulant and disenchanted with married life, especially after Mara was born, missing the attention and drama of being the most sought after woman in Dublin. She declared she would have no more children and barred Declan from her bed. It was no wonder their every conversation ended in a bitter argument.

  Relations grew worse between them, until he and Margaret were barely on speaking terms and could only just tolerate each other’s presence. She threatened daily that she was planning to leave him and return to her family. Rumors swirled that the Duke of Kilcarragh was still willing to marry her, but Declan had his suspicions that his wife was having an affair with someone else.

  The events that led up to the night of the fire haunted him to this day. He may indirectly have been the cause of those events, but he never intended for Margaret to die that evening.

  He hated to think of it, and felt regret about the hurtful words he had shouted at her before the fire began. The fire that destroyed his world at the house in Galway that night was still a mystery to him.

  He and Margaret had gone to Galway on the western Irish coast last October in a desperate attempt at reconciling. They had spent their honeymoon there, after their elopement, and those few days had really been the only happy ones of their ill-fated marriage. Declan thought returning to the place with their daughter might help them recapture the feeling they once had for one another and it had been at his suggestion that they went. Margaret had been most unwilling and had argued with him bitterly against the trip. But she gave in reluctantly, pouting and complaining the entire journey there.