To Tempt an Irish Rogue

by Kaitlin O'Riley

  “I understand how you feel, for it pains me, too,” Gerald said, his voice tinged with regret. “I would like to offer my services if you need help in getting Declan to return home. I will do the honorable thing here. Cousin or not. If he has committed a crime, and such a heinous crime at that, then he must pay for his actions.” He paused dramatically. The Ryan sisters waited with bated breath. “While he is absent from his duties as the Earl of Cashelmore, he has left his affairs to me. I have full control of the estate and it is at your disposal, ladies, so please think of Cashelmore Manor as your home.”

  “Why, thank you, Gerald! You’re an honorable gentleman, in spite of your embarrassment of a cousin!” Ellen declared emphatically.

  “It’s a comfort to know that not all of Mara’s blood relatives are without decency,” added Deirdre.

  Which is exactly what Gerald wanted them to believe. That he was the honorable one in the family. He was winning the trust of the Ryan family. He was firmly ensconced at Cashelmore Manor, running the estate for Declan. He was receiving regular reports from London about his cousin’s activities. Now he only had to wait. For the title and the fortune to become his.

  Little did the Ryan sisters know how much Gerald had already done to implicate Declan in the death of his wife. The foolish old crows! And he would continue to do so, even if it meant spending time with the Ryans. Gerald didn’t care. He would do whatever it took to make Cashelmore his.

  One way or another.

  Chapter 18

  Falling

  Declan held Paulette Hamilton close and she snuggled into him for warmth, her naked body pressed intimately against his.

  The steamy August nights had given way to cooler September evenings, which was a much-welcomed relief. The autumn season was upon them.

  As they lay together in the little bedroom above the bookshop, Declan wondered for the hundredth time what he was doing with this beautiful girl. She was so bright and beautiful, filled with determination and enthusiasm for all that she did. There was something about her that drew him in . . . like a siren’s call. She had touched something deep within him, had melted the coldness that had surrounded his heart since his troubled marriage. This sweet, intelligent, wonderful girl. He simply could not stay away from her.

  For the last six weeks they had continued to see each other secretly, and he had gone to the shop earlier that afternoon with Mara, as had become their daily routine. Another custom was for Declan to arrive later each evening after the shop had closed and everyone was gone for the day, when they would tiptoe to the bedroom upstairs.

  Although they had been most discreet, it was a miracle no one had found out about them yet, and Declan was determined to keep it that way. Paulette did not deserve to be ruined, nor did she deserve her reputation to be sullied by someone as tainted by scandal as he was. It was best if no one knew about the two of them.

  Paulette sighed contentedly in his arms. “It gets better every time, doesn’t it?”

  He had to agree with her. And he did so by kissing her sweet mouth.

  Declan supposed he should feel guilty about being with her this way and to a certain extent he did. But more often than not, guilt did not enter his mind. Because being with Paulette Hamilton felt more right than anything he had ever experienced in his life.

  “Declan?” she whispered in the darkness.

  “Yes, love?”

  “There’s something important I need to discuss with you.”

  She sounded very serious and his heart rate increased. He sat up a little, propping himself on the pillows behind his head. “What is it?”

  “Well, I’m not sure exactly . . .” she began with hesitation. “I suppose I should have said something to you the first time, but I didn’t wish to worry you and I didn’t think it was all that important.”

  Declan’s mind spun with possibilities of what his beautiful Paulette was hinting at. He had a sinking feeling he knew what was coming and he dreaded her next words, for he knew what he would have to say to her.

  He could not marry her.

  He would never get married again and he had been clear with her on that point from the start. Declan thought she understood that, because she had stated from the onset herself that she had no interest in marriage either. That had been part of his attraction to her. She was a lovely, intelligent, and independent woman not looking to be taken care of by a husband. Yet, here she was, suddenly hinting that they should wed.

  And she was correct. He should make her his wife after all that they had done together these last weeks. She would make a perfect wife, if only he had met her first, before he had married Margaret Ryan. He felt riddled with guilt.

  “Paulette, I—” he began, but her next words stopped him cold.

  “I’ve been receiving some rather threatening letters, Declan.”

  His whole body jerked when her words registered. Threatening letters? His heart pounded so loud he thought it might burst out of his chest. This was far more terrifying than what he had expected her to say. Releasing her, he sat up straight and lit the lamp on the side table, casting a golden glow around them. “What are you talking about, Paulette?”

  “Just what I said.” She tried to be calm, but Declan could see the worry in her pretty blue eyes as she continued to explain. “Someone has been sending me letters, warning me to stay away from you. Isn’t that strange?”

  Trying to control his own worry, he drew Paulette back into his arms, her naked body warm against his, and pulled the blanket around them. Instinct immediately told him that she had been receiving letters from the same coward who had been delivering them to his own house. The very idea that he had somehow involved Paulette in the ugliness of his problems in Ireland revolted him.

  “Tell me everything,” he demanded. “From the beginning. Don’t leave out any details.”

  “I received the first one a number of weeks ago, just after our visit to Green Park,” she said, her voice soft, but anxious. “And one has arrived each week since. All of them warning me to stay away from you and that I will be sorry if I don’t. One even came to the new building while I was there. The latest one came today, just before you arrived with Mara.”

  Declan held his breath. “What did it say?”

  “It said basically the same thing as the others, ‘If you wish to stay alive, stay away from Lord Cashelmore. He’s going to kill you, too.’”

  Anger and fear for Paulette rose within him. It was one thing for someone to try to intimidate him. It was another matter altogether that they were trying to frighten Paulette. His Paulette. He pulled her tighter to him.

  “I’m sorry, love. You shouldn’t have to be exposed to something like that.”

  “It’s not pleasant, but I’m not scared. I trust you, Declan, and I know you would never do anything to hurt me. And no one could ever scare me away from you. The letters are more of a nuisance than anything else. I just thought I should mention them to you because if someone knows about us . . . knows about you and me . . . I think that perhaps someone is . . .” She hesitated.

  “Someone is what?”

  “Well, it only stands to reason that someone is watching us.”

  Declan had had a feeling lately that someone was following him home from the bookshop each afternoon. He hadn’t seen anyone specifically. It was just a sense that he had, and he had brushed it aside, thinking it ridiculous. But the idea that someone was watching and following Paulette as well made his blood run cold. If anything bad happened to her because of his involvement with her, he would never forgive himself.

  “Who would care that you and I are together?” she asked. “Who would be watching us, Declan? And warning me to stay away from you?”

  Only one possible thought came to his mind. “My first guess would be Margaret’s family. I was sure that’s who was sending the messages to me.”

  “You’ve been receiving them as well?” Paulette asked, her tone incredulous.

  “Yes. But after learning t
hat you have been receiving them too, now I’m not so sure it’s Margaret’s sisters. Although I wouldn’t put much past them, threatening you seems a bit extreme, even for Deirdre and Ellen Ryan.”

  “Then who else would want me to stay away from you?”

  “I’m not sure. But I’m sure as hell going to find out.” He felt Paulette tremble slightly in his arms and he gave her a comforting squeeze. “I hadn’t given much thought to the letters I’ve gotten. I’ve tossed them into the fire, to tell you the truth. I assumed it was merely Deirdre and Ellen’s way of letting me know that they weren’t going to forget about Margaret and that they were still pursuing their case of finding me guilty. Perhaps they thought it would scare me into returning to Ireland so they could get their hands on Mara. In either instance, I disregarded them. But now I’m going to do my own investigating. Do you still have your letters?”

  “Yes. All of them. I’ll give them to you.”

  “Can I ask why you didn’t tell me about this sooner, Paulette?”

  She gave him a funny look. “I’m not sure. I suppose I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “You didn’t want to worry me?” He echoed her words in disbelief. The woman was incredible. Because of him she was being threatened by a faceless, nameless person for weeks, and she didn’t wish to burden him. He leaned down and kissed her, losing himself in the sweetness of her mouth, of her. Of Paulette. He withdrew and looked into her beautiful, innocent face.

  “Well, I’ll tell you right now, Miss Paulette Hamilton, you’re not to keep anything from me again from here on out, whether you think it will worry me or not.”

  “I promise.” She nodded in understanding.

  They kissed to seal their promise.

  “I should get home,” she murmured finally, her voice filled with reluctance. “They weren’t planning a late evening.”

  He and Paulette had scheduled their secret trysts above the bookshop to coincide when Lord and Lady Stancliff were out at a dinner party or a musicale or the opera, so Paulette’s later-than-usual arrival home would not be noted. Their nights together were becoming more and more important to him.

  She rose from the bed, standing gloriously naked before him. Her long golden hair fell in shimmering waves almost to her slender waist. His heart pounded. She looked so tempting, so gorgeous, he didn’t want to let her go.

  “Paulette?”

  “Yes?”

  With a devilish grin, he reached out a hand to her and pulled her back down to the bed. She fell willingly into his embrace, accepting his hungry kisses. Their need for each other growing, she straddled his hips, her eyes dark with desire. Paulette had become more and more comfortable and uninhibited in bed with him over the weeks, learning how to give and receive pleasure. He delighted in her nearness and the beauty of her. If anything happened to harm her, he would lose his mind. She had become more precious to him than he had realized.

  With a fluid movement, she leaned into him, taking the length of him inside of her, and began moving her hips up and down in a deliberate and slow motion. And once again that evening, they made love, only this time it was intense and quick, knowing their time left together tonight was fleeting at best.

  After dressing hurriedly and heading downstairs, they embraced one last time in the quiet of the empty bookshop. Declan held her tight in his arms again, feeling the beat of her heart next to his.

  “I need you to do something for me, Paulette.”

  “Anything,” she said, clinging to him.

  “I don’t want you to fight me on this.” He had the distinct feeling that she would.

  She pulled away and looked up at him, her delicate brows furrowed. “What is it, Declan?”

  “I don’t like the idea of you alone in the shop and someone out there watching you. I’m going to have one of my footman watch over you while you’re at the shop and coming and going to Devon House.” He saw the look of opposition appear on her pretty face.

  “Why, that’s utterly ridiculous!” she cried, on the verge of laughing out loud at his suggestion.

  “No. It’s not.” His voice dropped, and she stilled at the seriousness of his tone.

  “Declan, honestly, what would my family say if suddenly a burly footman was following me around?”

  She had a point, but he didn’t care. He refused to let anything or anyone harm her. And he didn’t like knowing that someone lurked about the streets, keeping tabs on their whereabouts, especially Paulette’s. “Then promise me that you’ll ask your brother-in-law to have one of the Devon House footman escort you to and from the shop. He should be doing that anyway.”

  Declan would then hire someone else to watch over her without her knowing it anyway. He had to be sure that Paulette was safe.

  “And just how would I explain my sudden desire for an escort?” She stepped back from his embrace, placing her hands on her hips, staring up at him. “I’ve never needed nor wanted one before and I’ve spent more hours than I care to recall having to justify myself to Lucien on this matter.”

  “You’re a very clever girl, Paulette. I know you can think of something.” He gave her a warning glance. “But you need an escort. Either your brother-in-law sees to it or I shall provide a burly footman of my own.”

  “Declan,” she began in protest.

  “Don’t ‘Declan’ me, love. I’m not changing my mind on this. I can have a footman watch you or your brother-in-law can. The choice is yours, but it begins first thing tomorrow and ends when I find out who is threatening you and put a stop to it.”

  She drew a breath. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Yes.”

  She had the good sense to recognize that he was not about to budge on this issue.

  “Fine,” she relented, however unwillingly. “Have it your way. I’ll speak to Lucien tonight. But you do realize that we give up all our freedom with one of the Devon House footmen overseeing my every move, don’t you? There will be no more of these nights above the shop.”

  “Yes. I realize that.” There was a long pause during which neither of them spoke. It was a sacrifice, however difficult, that he was willing to make for Paulette’s safety. “First thing tomorrow, do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, giving him a little salute with her hand.

  He pulled her back into his arms and gave her a final kiss before they left the shop. They had both taken to walking home from the bookshop, since it gave them more time together and kept less people from knowing what was going on between them. As usual, he walked her to the corner of Devon House and watched her until she made it safely inside.

  Declan stood there on the street for some time afterward, picturing her inside the house. Wondering what she was doing. Wishing he could spend the rest of the night with her beside him.

  With a heavy sigh and a careful glance around the neighborhood, he turned and made his way home, keeping a close eye out for anything suspicious. He was not entirely sure when the feeling that he was being watched had first occurred, but now he would be paying much better attention as he went about his business.

  It was a cool night, with a hint of colder nights to come in the air, and the coolness felt good against his skin. It braced him. Made him realize even more the seriousness of the situation.

  Someone was threatening Paulette, and warning her to stay away from him.

  He would not have her in danger on his account. Even if it meant not seeing her anymore . . .

  Perhaps it was for the best. Having a footman watch over Paulette would definitely put an end to his nighttime trysts with her. It would also give them time to cool down, for what they were doing was beyond reckless. He was carrying on an affair with an unmarried young woman, for Christ’s sake! He knew better than that. Paulette Hamilton was not the type to have an affair. She deserved an honest proposal of marriage.

  But he was not the one to give it to her. She deserved far better than someone like him.

  Paulette should marry a decent
man. A good man. One who was not encumbered by murder accusations or rejected by society for something he hadn’t done.

  He liked to think of Paulette being happily married, living in an elegant home with children and still managing a bookshop or two. He could imagine it all too easily and he wanted that happiness for her, wished to see her contented and fulfilled with her life. But for all the world he could not picture the man who would be her husband. The very thought of another man taking Paulette to his bed not only filled him with jealousy but made him feel quite ill.

  But what sickened him more was the thought of any harm coming to her.

  It all came back to one thing. Who was sending those damned notes?

  When he reached home, he glanced around carefully, but not too obviously, before ascending the steps outside his townhouse. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he entered the house.

  His butler, Roberts, greeted him as he stepped into the foyer. “Good evening, my lord. Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you, Roberts. Has Mara gone to bed already?” He knew his daughter was asleep by now, but it was his habit to ask anyway.

  “I believe so, sir.”

  Declan took the stairs two at a time, hurrying to the nursery. That was the only disadvantage to the precious nights he spent with Paulette above the bookshop. He missed putting Mara to bed on those evenings. But she had been so much better lately, he didn’t feel terribly guilty about it.

  He tiptoed into her pink bedroom, which adjoined the nursery. Mara slept peacefully, her little hands clutching a stuffed puppy. He kissed her cheek gently, so as not to wake her, before he stepped out of the room. In the nursery, he noticed more of her new paintings laid out on the table to dry.

  More fire depictions.

  Another picture of swirling flames that Mara had created with her little pots of paint. Declan didn’t know whether it was good for her to do this or not. None of the expert doctors he had visited seemed to be able to answer any of his questions regarding the mystery of his daughter’s silence.

  He knew the fire and the death of her mother had traumatized her. That fact was indisputable. It was how to cure her that left him in the dark.