“I’m sure you were worried out of your mind, and that’s all my fault. I apologize for getting you into this situation in the first place.”
“Oh, don’t ever be sorry, Declan!” she cried, placing a finger over his lips. “That negates all that we shared together. I don’t regret a single one of those nights with you.”
He stared at her in wonder, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “Ah, Paulette, I don’t know what to do with you, lass.”
She smiled back up at him knowingly. “Yes, you do.”
“Sure and I do.” He grinned back at her. He moved his body over hers and his mouth came down on her lips, hot and demanding.
Paulette relished the weight of his body covering hers. He made love to her with infinite tenderness for hours and still she could not get enough of him.
Chapter 31
Confrontation
Gerald O’Rourke’s head pounded and throbbed as the effects from too much whiskey the night before laid him rather low today. What he needed was a little more whiskey to take the edge off. He’d just managed to drag himself out of bed and the sun was already high in the late October sky, the light from outside pouring through the tall bedroom windows of the master’s suite almost blinding him.
“Close the damn drapes!” he bellowed to his valet, who scurried back to the windows to correct his third mistake of the day. His first had been waking Gerald to say that he had rather important guests waiting for him in his study. His second mistake was telling him he didn’t know who the guests were. “You damn idiot,” Gerald grumbled again, pressing his hands to his throbbing temples. “Where’s Alice?” he asked next, realizing that his young wife was not in their room.
“I’m not sure, my lord.” The man rushed about the room, handing Gerald his robe and pouring him a glass of whiskey. “I think she’s in with her dressmaker.”
Gerald gratefully swallowed the drink, the liquid burning his throat on the way down. Of course Alice was with the dressmaker. Where else would she be? Apparently she now required a brand-new dress every blasted day. He handed the empty glass back to his valet, indicating that he needed another.
Gerald’s hands shook as he struggled to get into his robe. Who the hell was calling on him at this time of day, declaring themselves there on a matter of utmost importance? His stomach roiled, rebelling at the whiskey he just dumped in it.
“Bring me some coffee, too,” he demanded as he took the second glass of whiskey, gulping it quicker than it took to fill the glass. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “And you have no idea who is here?”
“No, my lord. Gregson just said it was most urgent that you come down right away.”
“Are you sure they are not here to see Mrs. Hanlon or Mrs. Hollingsworth?” Margaret’s two sisters had been fit to be tied when they arrived at Cashelmore to take Mara and found her missing. They screamed all sorts of vile names at him, demanding to know the whereabouts of their niece. Of course, Gerald felt like a complete fool because he had no idea where the child had gone to, but he made up some story that he had her sent to Dublin to acquire a new wardrobe. Deirdre and Ellen had not been pleased by this at all. In the meantime he’d sent a few of the Cashelmore footmen into Dublin to see what they could find out. He had his suspicions of where the woman who claimed to be his cousin’s fiancée must have taken Mara with her when she left.
“I am sorry I don’t know, my lord,” his valet mumbled in apology. “Gregson would tell me nothing.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re all a bunch of morons. Give me the coffee, help me get ready and then go fetch Alice immediately.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Gerald loved being called “my lord.” It had a nice sound to it and as soon as Declan had been arrested, he was technically the lord of the manor. So he ordered all the Cashelmore servants to address him only as “my lord.” Gerald belonged here, in this grand house. He’d known that fact his whole life. It wasn’t his fault his mother had been the older sister to the heir and then had foolishly married beneath her station.
His mother, Lady Victoria Reeves, had fallen in love with a poor, untitled scholar, named Francis O’Rourke. As the beautiful daughter of the Earl of Cashelmore, Victoria could have married anyone. But no, his mother had not cared for material wealth and went and married a man with no prospects. Her family should have disowned her, but the old earl, his grandfather, loved his daughter too much and didn’t care that she had married beneath her.
Luckily for Gerald, he was not raised in poverty, for his grandfather had supported the young couple. It still was not the life of luxury and lavishness Gerald should have been entitled to. Meanwhile, his young cousin Declan, ten years younger and born to his mother’s younger brother, had everything handed to him on a silver platter. After the old earl died leaving Declan’s father the title, Declan’s life of privilege as the heir only improved, while Gerald looked on from the outside, as the poor relation, asking for handouts.
When Declan was only ten years old, his parents were in a devastating carriage accident and both died of their injuries days later. Gerald’s own parents had passed away of a fever the year before. That left Declan and Gerald as the only surviving members of the great Reeves family. As the elder male, Gerald made it his duty to look after his younger cousin who lived at Cashelmore Manor. Declan had readily looked up to Gerald and grew to depend on him for advice.
Not quite sure exactly when the idea took hold of him, Gerald knew that if something happened to Declan, the Cashelmore title and estate and all that entailed would naturally fall to him. Not that he planned any harm to Declan, for he had been the sweetest of boys and Gerald was genuinely fond of him.
But as Declan grew older, Gerald became obsessed with the notion that Cashelmore belonged to him just as much as it belonged Declan. They were both legitimate grandsons of the earl. Why should an accident of birth ruin his whole life? Simply because Gerald had been born to the daughter of the family and not the son, why should he be excluded?
When Declan foolishly married Margaret Ryan, Gerald saw his claim on Cashelmore slipping further away. If Declan had a son, all would be lost. His relief at Mara’s birth had been tremendous, for as he knew all too well, a daughter was not an heir. He waited in anxious uncertainty, but Margaret did not have another child.
In the meantime, he knew he should marry and continue the line on his side, just to be safe. Meeting the enticing and clever, if somewhat common, Alice Kennedy changed everything for him. Alice understood right away how things stood and all that Gerald had to gain if only Declan Reeves were out of the way.
Smart enough to realize that suspicion would naturally first fall to Gerald if anything out of the ordinary occurred to cause Declan’s demise, Alice hatched the brilliant plan to implicate Declan in the death of his wayward wife. The strife in their marriage was known to everyone and it was easy enough to let people believe that Declan had been the cause of Margaret’s death.
Thier plan had gone perfectly until the cursed night in Galway and Gerald had watched everything almost unravel completely in front of his eyes.
It had been worth it though.
Now that Declan was imprisoned for starting the fire, it was merely a matter of formalities before everything legally belonged to Gerald. Cashelmore would then be his forever. Gerald deserved it after all he had been through.
Finally dressed and presentable enough to meet the mystery guests who awaited him in the salon, he wondered again where Alice was as he made his way downstairs. The throbbing of his head had eased somewhat. That third glass of whiskey did the trick. Too preoccupied with his own thoughts, Gerald did not notice the anxious faces of the Cashelmore servants, huddled in corners whispering and scurrying out of his way as he walked the hallways.
Reaching the earl’s private study, he tried to steady his shaking hands as he opened the door.
Shock raced through him as he stared at Declan Reeves, the Earl of Cashelmore himself, seated at the wide oak de
sk in the center of the study. There were others in the room as well. That pretty Hamilton girl and the English lord whom Alice had made a complete fool of herself over the other evening were seated on one of the sofas. An unfamiliar gentleman with long blond hair stood against the bookshelves with his arms crossed. Strangest of all, Mara Reeves sat beside that determined nurse of hers on the opposite sofa along with Ellen Ryan Hanlon and Deirdre Ryan Hollingsworth.
His shock quickly gave way to a sickening feeling that flooded through his entire body and he thought he might empty the contents of his stomach right there on the floor. Something was not right. How had Declan been released from the gaol? What were these people all doing at Cashelmore?
“Declan, my boy!” Gerald called, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. “How are you? What’s happened? You must have good news! Have you been released?”
Declan did not smile and his tone was quite cold. “Gerald, so nice of you to finally join us. We’ve been waiting for you all morning. Yes, I can imagine your surprise at seeing me. I was released yesterday due to lack of evidence, so I came straight home to tell you the news.” He paused briefly and stared at him. “It seems they have discovered the true identity of the person who started the fire in Galway.”
A shooting pain gripped his chest and Gerald found it difficult to breathe. “That’s wonderful news. I am delighted to hear it.”
“I thought you might feel that way. Please sit down,” Declan ordered. “I’d like to share this information with all of you.” He motioned to Margaret’s two sisters, who managed to look most displeased and intrigued at the same time.
“I would be happy to,” Gerald said as he began making a move toward the door, “but I know Alice will want to hear this news as well. Let me have her join us.” If he left right away, he and Alice could be in Dublin and board a ship out of the country by nightfall. He had some money stashed away, but they would have to hurry. He’d go anywhere in the world at this point.
“Oh, don’t worry about Alice,” Declan said with a grim smile. “She already knows all about it. She’s waiting in the adjoining room and will join us after we’ve spoken to you.”
A cold sweat broke out on his brow and Gerald’s legs shook. What had they told Alice? And more importantly, what had Alice told them? That pressing sensation near his heart increased. He had to get out of this room, but now that strange, long-haired blond gentleman stood blocking the doorway.
“Sit down, Gerald.” The command in Declan’s voice brooked no argument.
Gerald cast a worried glance in the direction of the blond stranger as he lowered himself unsteadily onto the only empty chair left in the room.
Declan began, “I’d like to start by introducing you to my solicitor, Mr. Sebastian Woods. He’s one of the most skilled criminal attorneys in all of England. Mr. Woods, this is the cousin I’ve been telling you about, Gerald O’Rourke.”
Unable to speak, Gerald gave a slight nod to the imposing man. Between the throbbing in his skull, the tightness in his chest, and the shaking of his hands, Gerald could barely hold up his head. He dreaded what was about to happen. And most of all he avoided the haunting green eyes of little Mara Reeves.
Sebastian Woods cleared his throat, his sharp eyes honing in on Gerald, and his words were harsh. “I have some important questions for you, Mr. O’Rourke. Before I ask them, I am first going to ask one question to someone in this room and I would like everyone else to remain absolutely silent.”
The man moved to the sofa and kneeled in front of Mara and his demeanor changed completely. He smiled kindly at her, his voice calm and soft.
“Mara, I know you remember that terrible night that your mother died and I know you don’t even like to think of it. But I have a very big favor to ask you. Your truthful answer is very, very important. It can help your father and your aunts. No one will be angry with anything you say.” Sebastian Woods paused, but never took his eyes off Mara.
Everyone in the room grew still.
“Mara, do you understand that you need to be very honest and tell the truth?”
“Yes.” Her voice was a soft murmur.
Stunned that the child was speaking again, Gerald’s hands grew clammy and underneath his suit perspiration dripped down his back and under his arms. When had Mara started talking? What had she said? He wiped the sweat from the top of his lip with the back of his hand. Keeping his eyes downcast, he didn’t know where to look.
“Good girl,” Sebastian Woods said. “Well, I know you have been very brave this week while your father was away and I need you to be brave a little longer. Can you do that?”
She nodded. Mrs. Martin patted her arm.
“Mara, can you tell me who you saw at Kenmare House the night of the fire?”
Her expression serious, she nodded once more.
“Who?” he encouraged her.
“Papa.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Sebastian Woods grinned. “Your father was there with you. Was anyone else there that you knew?”
Gerald thought his heart would seize right then and there. He tried to look away, to look anywhere in the room but at Mara. But he couldn’t. His eyes drifted to the little girl seated on the sofa dressed in pink, her golden blond hair like a halo around her face. He hadn’t ever meant to hurt her. She was a sweet thing and he hadn’t meant to hurt her! If only the girl had stayed asleep in her own bed!
She should have been fast asleep at that time of the night, not wandering the house all alone, getting in the way of things. Getting in the way of his plans!
After successfully lighting a small fire in the room directly below Margaret’s, Gerald should have fled the scene. Everything would have been fine if he had done that. However, at the last moment, panic and remorse over what he had done overwhelmed him. Instead of fleeing the house, he had snuck up the back staircase to get Margaret out of that room before the fire reached her.
But it was too late.
The fire spread faster than he ever could have possibly imagined. When he reached Margaret’s bedroom he could already hear her screams and smoke spilled from under the door. He reached to open the door but the knob was mad hot and the door was locked, and that’s when he froze. Mara Reeves came running from the opposite end of the hallway, calling for her mother. She stopped short when she spied Gerald standing there. Startled by the child, Gerald screamed at her. “Go back to bed, Mara. You’re a very bad girl!”
Margaret’s shrieks pierced the air and the smell of smoke burned his nose. Frightened out of his wits at this point, Gerald didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t even supposed to be in Galway and not a soul had seen him there.
Except the terrified little girl in front of him.
Another shrill scream from Margaret, like that of an animal caught in a trap, pulled at his heart. Mara ran toward the door, frantic to help her mother. Gerald shoved her backward, as hard as he could, and the child fell to the floor, as he yelled, “Bad girl! Go to bed! Get out of here!”
Margaret must have finally unlocked the door for it suddenly flew open and a whoosh of flames shot out of the room. Gerald was lucky to only get singed as he jumped out of the way, falling to the floor and huddling in a ball. He saw Margaret come out, her nightgown already in flames, and she was shrieking in pain. Her long silver-blond hair had begun to burn. Bursts of flames lashed across the hallway blocking his path to Margaret and Mara. Now they were both screaming, the fire spreading quickly toward him. He could not get to either of them without crossing a wall of fire. It was then that his survival instinct kicked in and Gerald fled in the opposite direction, down the back stairs and out of the house as fast as he could go.
The rest of that night was a miserable blur. He managed to find his horse, which he had hidden in the fields, and he rode until he almost passed out, the horror of what he had just done driving his every step. He’d been lucky to get away unharmed, he told himself. But he worried about Mara. How had he left her there alone and defenseless in th
at inferno? He could think of nothing else until he finally learned the next day that she had escaped the fire unharmed.
Now Mara sat before him, with all eyes on her. Gerald knew in that moment it was all over. Everyone would know what he had done.
Again Sebastian Woods asked in a quiet tone, “Was there anyone else there you knew that night besides your mother and father?”
Mara nodded her head slowly and her green eyes met Gerald’s. “Yes. Uncle Gerald was there. He said I was a bad girl.”
A pin could have dropped in the study. Tears spilled from his eyes. Gerald could not stop them. “I’m so sorry, Mara, sweetheart, I’m so sorry . . .”
“You are a good girl, Mara. Thank you for telling the truth,” Sebastian Woods said. He stood and gave a hard look at Gerald.
Immediately Declan rose from behind the desk and went to his daughter, gathering her in his arms and hugging her tightly. “You are a very brave girl, Mara darlin’, and I love you very much.” He then set her down. “Mrs. Martin, why don’t you take Mara upstairs and give her a special treat and perhaps let her paint or read.”
“Of course, Lord Cashelmore,” the woman, who was quite shaken, said with a forced grin. She rose and took Mara by the hand. “Let’s go, dear. The grown-ups have much to discuss.”
Once they were gone, the atmosphere in the room quickly became charged. Gerald reached in his pocket and retrieved his handkerchief. Weeping like a child in shame and remorse, he wiped his eyes. He looked up to see all eyes, full of recriminations and outrage and pity, staring at him. Paulette Hamilton looked aghast. The two Ryan sisters were appalled. That Eddington fellow looked fit to kill. The solicitor sported a satisfied grin. And then there was Declan. The look of hurt and betrayal on his face was unbearable to Gerald.
“I didn’t want to believe it was you, Gerald,” Declan said, his voice full of disappointment and disgust. “I truly didn’t. I never would have believed you capable of something like this. You let Margaret die. If I hadn’t found Mara when I did, she would have perished along with her mother.”
To Tempt an Irish Rogue Page 27
