“What is it?” Papa asked her.
Mrs. Martin looked ill at ease. “Aside from Mara’s rooms not being aired, all the other bedrooms are being used by houseguests at the party, and your rooms, my lord, the master’s rooms, are occupied.”
“My rooms?” Papa turned on Mrs. Finley, who looked ready to burst into tears. “My rooms are not to be used by anyone while I’m away. You know that. Who is staying in my rooms?”
“Good evening, Declan.” Aunt Alice entered the study, dressed in dazzling scarlet silk and her black hair artfully arranged atop of her head with cascading curls down her back. Mara had never seen anyone dressed so spectacularly. “What a wonderful surprise! Welcome home! You’re looking as handsome as ever, Declan. Oh, and sweet Mara is here, too. She grows more beautiful every day. She looks just like her mother, God rest her poor, tragic soul.”
Alice smiled at Mara in that false way adults did when they didn’t care for children very much. However, Mara couldn’t stop looking at Aunt Alice’s sparkly red dress.
“Good evening, Alice,” Papa said through gritted teeth.
“I’m afraid we must apologize, Declan,” Alice said smoothly. “We weren’t expecting you, as you can see. And while we were here overseeing the estate at your request, we took a few . . . liberties, shall we say? I’m afraid that Gerald and I have been staying in the master’s rooms. We didn’t think you would mind, what with you being in London and us staying here. We will, of course, have all our things moved out immediately, if you wish. However, I don’t think you’ll be needing them.”
“What are you talking about?” he demanded. Mara sensed Papa was not happy at all with the situation.
“Not now, Alice,” Gerald warned in a low voice.
Alice ignored her husband and made a gloomy face at Papa. It looked like she was sad, but she really wasn’t sad at all. “It seems that the authorities have been made aware of your return. I really don’t believe you have much time before they arrive here and take you into custody.”
“Alice!” Uncle Gerald cried out.
Mrs. Martin gasped, her hand over her heart.
Not understanding what Aunt Alice was saying, Mara worried about what was happening. She felt Papa’s shoulders grow tense and suddenly a flicker of fear blossomed in her belly.
Papa said, “Mrs. Finley, find a room for me tonight. I don’t care where. And send someone up to ready the nursery for my daughter.” He then set Mara on her feet. “Mrs. Martin, why don’t you try to get Mara some supper and ready her for bed. I’ll be up to see her shortly. Be a good girl, Mara darlin’, and go with Mrs. Martin now.”
Her father was angry. She didn’t like it when he was upset. It hardly ever happened so she could remember those times very clearly. Papa became terribly angry with Auntie Deirdre before they went to London a while back. And before that was the dreadful night of the fire. He was very angry with Mama that time. But someone else was, too. Someone had been angry with Mara that night....
“Come along, sweetheart.” Mrs. Martin held out her hand and Mara took it, clinging tightly to her.
Mara was glad Mrs. Martin had come with them to Cashelmore Manor, for she hadn’t cared for her former nurse. She had been very strict and became cross quite easily. After climbing two flights of stairs, Mara still held Mrs. Martin’s hand as they stood in the doorway of her nursery. It seemed colder and darker than she remembered and with all the furniture covered with dust cloths it looked quite spooky.
“Well, it’s certainly a grand room,” Mrs. Martin said in her cheery voice, even though Mara knew she was still worried. “Once we get a fire lit in here, and put things to rights, we will make it all cozy again for you.”
And she was right. A couple of servants came in and began lighting the lamps and the fire, removing the dust cloths and unpacking her trunk and bringing her supper tray. The nursery and her bedroom were warmed up and almost looked as she remembered. At least they no longer looked spooky!
As Mara ate her supper, she wondered how long they would stay at Cashelmore Manor. She already longed for her flowered window seat in London, where she could look out and watch all that happened on the busy street below. When she looked out the nursery window here at night, she saw nothing but darkness.
Mrs. Martin got her ready for bed and then Mara chose one of her books for Papa to read to her when he came. It was the little toy book that Miss Hamilton gave her the day in the park, Beauty and the Beast. Mara sat on her bed, pulling the little tabs to make the pictures move and the beast dance. Suddenly Papa’s valet, Hobbes, came running into the nursery. The man was clearly panicked and upset.
“Mrs. Martin! They’ve taken Lord Cashelmore!” he exclaimed. “He’s been arrested!”
“What do you mean?” Mrs. Martin cried, her eyes wide, dropping the dress of Mara’s she had been hanging up in the wardrobe.
The toy book fell to the floor, but in her hands Mara held the cardboard tabs that made the pictures move.
“They’ve taken him into custody!” The pitch of Hobbes’ voice increased. “What do we do? What are we to do here in this country now?”
Mrs. Martin pushed him out of the room. “Hush. Not in front of his daughter, you fool! I’ll be right out.” She closed the door and turned to Mara with a worried expression. “It’s time for bed now, Mara sweetheart.”
Something was terribly wrong and a sick feeling rushed through her. Mara feared she might throw up on the floor. Papa was not coming to see her later. She knew it with a dreadful certainty. Somebody had taken him from her. She understood that much. Silent tears welled in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.
“Now, now. Everything is going to be all right, you’ll see.” Mrs. Martin sat on the bed beside her and hugged her tightly. She smiled at her, but Mara could see the fear and worry in the woman’s eyes. “Oh, don’t cry, Mara. Hobbes was just confused. You know how silly he is sometimes. Your father is fine. He just had to go out for a little while to take care of some business. He’ll be back as soon as he can, because he loves you so much.”
Great, choking sobs wracked Mara’s small body and she shook with pain. Papa was gone! Papa was gone! They had taken Papa!
And Mara desperately needed Papa to come back to her.
Suddenly the paralyzing fear that had gripped her little throat for so long finally snapped open. Mara found the words she needed again, as she began to scream for her father . . .
Chapter 27
Brothers
When Paulette hadn’t seen or heard from Declan the day after the opening of the new bookshop, she began to worry a little. By the second day, she became concerned, and by the third day she was quite frantic. Had she so offended him by her remark that afternoon in the bookshop when she turned down his proposal that he no longer wanted to marry her?
Her sisters had led her to believe that Declan wanted to marry her and that they should marry. Paulette believed he would contact her and they would wed within the week.
Now she had nothing but doubts.
She loved Declan. But did he love her? Would they be able to have a happy marriage together? She was sure she could be happy with him, and that she would be a good mother to their child as well as to Mara. She’d been miserable this past month without him. She missed him and loved him. She needed to be with him now more than ever.
And she needed to tell him she was sorry.
Plagued by guilt, she recalled her cold words to him in the reading room. She knew she had hurt him terribly by saying she had no wish to wed him because of the rumors about him.
She spent the afternoon of that third day at home in her bedroom, wracked with nerves and too nauseated to work in the shop. Her mother had returned to Brighton. Colette and Juliette had taken all three children to the park and Lisette and Yvette were shopping. Left to her own devices, Paulette had nothing to do but think. And worry.
Why hadn’t Declan come to see her yet?
Gathering up all her resolve, she decided that if Declan wasn’t
going to come to her then she must to go him instead. She had turned down his offer of marriage that day. Perhaps his male pride was injured and she needed to make amends. Wearing her prettiest dress of bright blue, which helped her still rather green complexion not appear so nauseous, she had Davies take her in the carriage to Declan’s townhouse. She had never called on a gentleman so boldly before and she was a bit nervous when she knocked on the door.
“Oh, Lord Cashelmore is not in, Miss Hamilton,” Roberts, the butler, informed her when she asked to see him.
Well then, she would just have to come back. Or wait for him. Paulette was determined to see Declan one way or another. She had to apologize for being so awful to him. “Will he be in later this afternoon?”
“I’m afraid not, miss,” the butler said kindly. “He left three days ago. He’s gone back to Ireland.”
Paulette felt the world sway under her feet and all she could see was fading to black. Dizziness overwhelmed her.
“Oh, Miss Hamilton, are you well?” Roberts took hold of Paulette’s arm to steady her. “Come sit down, miss.”
Trying to regain her sense of balance, Paulette stumbled to a chair in the foyer of the townhouse. A wave of nausea washed over her. Declan had left. He was gone. He had left her.
“Please just rest for a minute, miss,” Roberts cautioned her, his face lined with worry. “Shall I send for a doctor?”
“No, no,” Paulette willed herself not to vomit in Declan’s hallway. She took a deep, fortifying breath. Good heavens, she was making a spectacle of herself! Almost fainting on his doorstep. Thank goodness Declan wasn’t here to witness such a display. “I’m fine now. Thank you.”
Roberts shook his head. “You don’t look fine, Miss Hamilton.”
“I am.” She breathed in deeply again. “Did Lord Cashelmore . . . Did he happen to say when he would be returning to London?”
“He wasn’t sure, miss, but he hoped he wouldn’t be gone long. That’s why he kept me on, to oversee the house here in the meantime. Please, miss, let me send for a doctor.”
“No, that’s not necessary. Thank you.” Relief flooded her. He was coming back to London at some point in the near future if he kept the house. She rose to her feet. “I think I shall go home now.”
“Please wait here one minute, miss. Lord Cashelmore left something for you in the event that you stopped by.”
Paulette watched with wide eyes as Roberts hurried from the hall and returned holding an envelope. He handed it to Paulette. “He said I was to send it to you by the end of the week if you didn’t come here yourself first.”
With trembling hands, Paulette held the envelope tightly and wondered what Declan had written to her.
Meanwhile, Roberts went to the front door and motioned to Davies, the Devon House footman who escorted Paulette everywhere. Davies immediately came to assist Paulette back to the carriage.
Once in the carriage, Paulette tore open Declan’s letter, the words written in his sprawling hand.
Paulette My Love,
Mara and I have returned to Ireland. I must finally put an end to the accusations against me. I need to clear my name before I can ask you to share it with me, Paulette. I love you and I want to marry you. I will be back for you as soon as I can.
Yours,
Declan
Trembling, Paulette’s eyes filled with tears as she read his note over and over. He did love her and want to marry her. His words filled her with hope and love for him. He was coming back for her, but she did not wish to wait. Paulette knew instantly what she needed to do.
By the time she returned to Devon House, a plan had formed in her mind. She went directly to Lucien’s study, where she found him sitting at his desk.
“Hello, Paulette.” Lucien eyed her carefully as she entered his study.
Although she hadn’t openly discussed her situation with her brother-in-law yet, Paulette knew he had to be aware of her condition by now. Feeling uncomfortable about it and more than a little self-conscious, she began hesitantly. “Do you have a few minutes, Lucien? I should like to talk to you about something important.”
His dark brows rose slightly, as he set down the pen he had been writing with. “Of course. Come have a seat. What is it?”
She lowered herself onto one of the chairs near his large cherry wood desk. Her relationship with her favorite brother-in-law had always been close. Lucien had supported her every decision about the bookshop and taught her a good deal about business. They had always been each other’s allies since he was first courting Colette. “I need your help, Lucien.”
“You’re asking for my help now? Isn’t it a little late?” He gave her a teasing smile.
Paulette’s cheeks grew warm at his reference to her pregnancy. Ever since she had become involved with Declan Reeves, things felt a little uncomfortable between her and Lucien. She had been too embarrassed to confide in him what was happening with her and Declan. “I’m sorry, Lucien. I know I should have come to you sooner, but I . . . I just couldn’t . . .”
“I understand, Paulette. Truly I do,” Lucien said kindly, his expression sympathetic. “So, what can I help you with now? And this is just a wild guess on my part, but does this have anything to do with Lord Cashelmore?”
“Yes,” she admitted in relief. “I need to go Ireland. Right away.”
He gave her a surprised look. “And why is that?”
“Because Declan went home and I have to see him. I have to help him.”
Lucien’s expression grew somber. “He’s in trouble, Paulette. I’m not sure how much you know, but I’m not going to lie to you. Jeffrey and I have been looking into his case to see what can be done.”
Lucien’s words frightened her. Just how serious were matters in Ireland for Declan? His troubles had seemed rather far away to her, something resolved rather easily. But now they seemed most urgent and the need to see him, to help him, was suddenly overwhelming.
A knock on the study door interrupted them. Lord Jeffrey Eddington came in.
“Ah, speak of the devil,” Lucien quipped at his friend’s timely arrival. “Come join us, Jeffrey.”
“Talking about me again?” Jeffrey winked playfully at Paulette. “Good things I hope.” He handed Lucien a sheaf of papers. “I just received a message from Dublin.”
Dublin? Paulette’s heart raced. “What message from Dublin? Is it about Declan?”
His expression quickly turning serious, Jeffrey sat on the edge of Lucien’s desk. “How much do you know, Paulette?”
“I know Declan’s in Dublin now. I know that I need to help him. I must go to him. He’s innocent. I know he is. You have to help me to help him. Please.” She pressed her hands together.
“We have tried, Paulette, I promise you,” Lucien said. “Since the moment I found out about your . . . since the moment I knew you were to marry, I’ve been pulling every string I know and calling in favors for the last three days trying to get information. So has Jeffrey.”
“You have?” Touched by their caring and concern for her, Paulette felt a lump in her throat.
Jeffrey nodded. “Yes, we have.”
“Oh, you’re both wonderful . . . Thank you . . .” Paulette whispered, overcome with emotion that they had gone to such lengths to help Declan, simply because she loved him.
“Lord Cashelmore has already hired himself the best criminal attorney in London to take on his case. A man named Sebastian Woods,” Lucien explained, while glancing over the papers in front of him. “There’s not much else we can do, Paulette. If he went to Ireland to fight these charges as you say, then there’s a good chance he’s been arrested and is in custody for the trial.”
“I just got the telegram from my friend in the Dublin office,” Jeffrey announced grimly. “Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened.”
“He’s been arrested!?” Her stomach lurched at the prospect. Poor Declan! And who was with Mara? She would be so frightened without him! “I need to be there with him. A
nd with Mara. Oh, Lucien, can you please help me make arrangements to sail to Ireland?”
Lucien smiled, seeming a bit amused by her request. “I can do that, of course. But I do think you’d be better off asking Harrison.”
“Harrison?” Paulette asked in confusion. Juliette’s husband was wonderful to be sure, but what would . . . “Harrison!” she cried in delight as she realized what Lucien meant. Her brother-in-law was a sea captain and the Sea Minx was a beautiful clipper ship. “He has his own ship!”
“Jeffrey, how do you feel about a trip to Ireland?” Lucien asked.
Paulette’s head spun around. “Jeffrey?”
Lucien laughed. “Well, we’re certainly not letting you go there alone.”
“Yes, I think between Harrison and me we should be able to keep an eye on her, don’t you agree?” Jeffrey said in mock seriousness.
“You would really come with me?” she asked.
“Yes. It’s the least I can do,” Jeffrey explained. “I feel like you’re only in this mess because I didn’t keep a closer watch over you.”
“I’m not in a mess, Jeffrey, not really. I’m just in love,” she explained to them softly. “And I’m not a child any longer, in case either of you hadn’t noticed.”
Both men remained silent, avoiding her eyes.
“I can’t thank you both enough for helping me. And helping Declan. But there’s probably something else you should know about.” Paulette paused.
“What is it?” Lucien asked, looking concerned.
“I don’t even want to guess.” Jeffrey flashed her a grin.
Paulette took a deep breath before confessing. “Well, there have been these threatening letters.”
“What are you talking about?” Lucien asked, his expression darkening.
Before Paulette could launch into an explanation, Jeffrey said, “Yvette already informed me of this as well.”
Paulette shook her head. “Remind me not to confide in her again.”
“Your little sister was right to tell me everything,” Jeffrey defended Yvette with an emphatic nod of his head.
To Tempt an Irish Rogue Page 23
