To Tempt an Irish Rogue (17 page)

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Authors: Kaitlin O'Riley

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: To Tempt an Irish Rogue
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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.
Although he had to admit that since coming to London almost two months ago, there had been a definite change in Mara. She did seem happier, lighter. She smiled more often and even giggled on a few occasions. She did not seem to be as nervous and anxious as she had been while they were in Ireland. Her nightmares had all but ceased in the last weeks.
He had to thank Mrs. Martin for all that she had done to help Mara. The woman had been a godsend. Considering that he left every single one of his former servants in Ireland, wanting no reminders of the horrific fire to follow Mara, he came to London alone and had to begin hiring new staff the day he arrived. He had interviewed three women for the position of nurse to Mara. The first one had a prim hardness about her that he hadn’t liked. The second looked as if she enjoyed alcohol more than she should. Then there was Mrs. Martin, a kind widow in her forties, with grown children of her own. She had a calm practicality about her that appealed to him. When he had explained the situation, she hadn’t been horrified or frightened.
She spoke to Mara kindly, and not as if the child were a mute idiot as some people did. She had old-fashioned common sense that seemed to work wonders on his daughter whereas the directives from the medical community fell flat. Mrs. Martin had insisted on getting Mara out of the black mourning clothes and wearing bright colors again to lift the child’s spirits.
“There’s nothing more depressing than seeing children in black,” Mrs. Martin declared and Declan had to agree with her. The sight of Mara in pretty pastels again raised his spirits as well.
It had also been Mrs. Martin’s inspiration to give Mara the paints. “The poor child must have so many frightening thoughts bottled up inside that she’s afraid to speak, Lord Cashelmore. Maybe the painting is a way for her to release them without talking,” Mrs. Martin had suggested.
At first the paintings worried him, but seeing that Mara seemed to be improving a little more each day, he worried less about her depiction of flames. He tended to agree with Mrs. Martin’s advice more and more.
And with Paulette’s. Both women seemed to have a positive effect on his daughter and for that he was profoundly grateful.
Now, just when things were getting better in his life, someone was threatening it. More than anything, he needed to discover the source behind the intimidating notes.
Chapter 19
Suspicions
Paulette came home from the shop, escorted by Davies, one of the Devon House footmen, whom Lucien appointed to be her bodyguard after she told him that she felt uncomfortable walking alone. Lucien was thrilled to finally have someone watching over his independent-minded sister-in-law and all too willing to provide an escort for her. Although she had known Davies for years and he was just as nice as could be, Paulette was not at all happy with the situation.
She detested her lack of freedom and the sense of inconvenience. But most of all, she desperately missed being alone with Declan. The end of their secret nights in the bookshop and their forced separation was harder to bear than she had anticipated. It had been over three weeks since she had told him about the letters and she was beginning to regret having done so. Although she understood that he wanted to protect her, she resented having to be escorted everywhere she went.
Even though she had to grudgingly admit that she did feel safer having Davies with her at the store.
Paulette most definitely did not like the idea of some mysterious person watching her movements from the shadows and knowing about her trysts with Declan. And threatening her. But she now had even more to worry about than the specter of danger.
“You’re home early,” Yvette remarked idly, as she preened in front of the oval cheval glass mirror in the sitting room that adjoined their two bedrooms. She was dressed in a gorgeous, wine-colored bustle gown of silk shot with gold, and her blond hair had been styled elegantly upon her head. Her younger sister looked stunning.
“Yes,” Paulette grumbled rather than said, removing her cloak and tossing it on a chintz-covered chair in the corner. Yes, she was home early. What point was there to staying late at the shop if Declan would not be coming to see her? She flopped down on the sofa near the fireplace, where a warm fire was burning brightly, which comforted her. The October evenings had grown decidedly colder, but Paulette didn’t mind. The chilly weather matched her low spirits.
“Well, why don’t you change into something pretty and come with me to the Sheridans’ party tonight?” Yvette suggested, looking at her through the mirror’s reflection, her face alight with excitement.
“I don’t think so . . .” Paulette began, shaking her head. The last thing she wanted to do was gad about with a bunch of people she had no interest in talking to. “I’m tired.”
“Oh, please come, Paulette! You never come out with me. You’ll have fun, I promise. They say that Lord Barrington will be there, so it’s sure to be a fun party.”
“After working in the shop all day, I’m not in the mood for a party.”
Paulette was much more than a little tired. It was already October and the opening of the new shop was in less than two weeks. She had been doing a million and one things to prepare for the opening, as well as interviewing the final candidates for the positions in both shops. She and Colette had a more difficult time than they had anticipated in selecting the best employees. It was exhausting work, but they finally had enough women hired and their training began tomorrow. Usually, anything to do with the bookshop inspired her and gave her so much energy, but now she was simply tired. All Paulette wanted to do was take a hot bath, have some soup, and crawl into bed for the night.
“All you ever do is work, Paulette! You didn’t even want to celebrate your twenty-first birthday last month,” her younger sister exclaimed, frowning in disappointment. “There will be lots of exciting people at this party and some very handsome young men. Aren’t you interested in having a suitor? Don’t you ever want to have any fun?”
“Of course I do,” Paulette protested weakly, curling up on the sofa. “It’s just a busy time with the new bookshop right now. Once the new store opens, things will settle down and everything will get back to normal.”
Yvette made a face, her expression full of disbelief. “You just use the shop as an excuse. The new store opening won’t change anything. You still won’t come out with my friends and me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.” Yvette crossed her arms, giving her a calculating look.
“All right,” Paulette conceded out of weariness. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and laid her head on the sofa cushion. “Perhaps it is a little bit true.”
“I just don’t understand you sometimes.” There was a note of sadness in Yvette’s voice.
“You don’t have to understand me,” Paulette said with a tired smile. “You look very pretty tonight, Yvette.”
Her sister came and sat on the edge of the sofa. “Are you all right, Paulette?”
Paulette lifted her head from the cushion in surprise. “Yes, of course, I’m all right. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know.... You just haven’t seemed yourself lately.”
“In what way?”
“You’ve been very distracted and almost day-dreamy. And don’t say it’s because of the bookshop. I grew up with you in the bookshop and this is just not the same.” Yvette shook her elegantly coiffed head in protest.
“Well, that is the reason,” Paulette said, feeling a trifle guilty. She
had
been working non-stop preparing the new store.
“No. It’s not. You’ve changed somehow. It’s like there’s a spark lit within you . . . I know that sounds silly, but I can’t put my finger on it. Colette and I were talking about it just yesterday, because she’s noticed it, too.” Yvette laughed a little. “If it weren’t so ridiculous a notion, I’d say you were in love!”
Paulette’s mouth dropped open at her sister’s words and she could feel the redness creeping into her cheeks. Was it so obvious?
“Paulette?”
“Yes?”
Yvette’s voice was filled with awe. “You’re not in love with someone, are you?”
After weeks and weeks of keeping Declan Reeves a secret, Paulette could no longer maintain her silence. She felt she would burst if she didn’t tell someone about the man who consumed her every thought. “Oh Yvette, do you promise not to tell anyone? Especially Colette?”
Yvette’s eyes grew wide and she nodded her head in excited anticipation. “I swear I won’t tell a soul.”
“You promise?”
“Yes! I just said I wouldn’t say a word.” Yvette almost squealed in delight. “Oh good heavens, Paulette, have you truly met someone? Are you in love? Who is he?”
“He is someone who came in to the bookshop.”
“Oh, I knew I was right! How divine!” Yvette exclaimed happily. “I want to know everything! You must tell me all the details!”
Suddenly tears welled in Paulette’s eyes. She could not hold them back. Mortified, she whispered, “But it’s such a dreadful mess!”
“Please don’t cry, Paulette!” Yvette handed her a silk handkerchief, her expression one of deep concern. “Well, now, you simply must tell me what is going on.”
Paulette could not stop the flow of tears, but she wiped at them with Yvette’s handkerchief. “I don’t even know where to start or how to explain it. It’s all so complicated.”
“Well, why don’t you start by telling me who he is first?” Yvette suggested, her pretty face lit with enthusiasm. “What is his name? What does he look like?”
Paulette sniffled, still wiping at her tears. “I met him in August. His name is Declan Reeves, and he’s the Earl of Cashelmore and he’s—”
“An earl! Oh, Paulette, this is so exciting! I never imagined you with an earl! Tell me more! Is he handsome?”
Paulette nodded, taking a bit of pride in the fact that Declan Reeves was so handsome and that he was attracted to her. “Yes, he’s very handsome, even by your standards. He’s twenty-five years old. He’s a widow from Ireland and he has a daughter. She’s only four years old and very sweet.”
“A young, handsome Irish earl!” Yvette clapped her hands together in glee. “Paulette, you’ve completely astonished me! Why on earth are you keeping someone like him a secret from us all?”
Now came the difficult part. She took a deep breath. “Because Colette and Lucien wouldn’t approve of him.”
Yvette frowned in confusion. “Why on earth wouldn’t they approve of him? He sounds divine.”
“Yes, well, that’s the thing. There is a bit of a problem.” Paulette paused, hesitant to reveal Declan’s plight. There was no way to avoid telling her sister at this point. “Lord Cashelmore has been accused of killing his wife.”
If she had just shoved Yvette off the sofa, her younger sister could not have been more dumbfounded. Her blue eyes widened and her mouth opened in awe. Her hand flew to her heart. “Good heavens!”
“But I swear to you that he didn’t have anything to do with her death!” Paulette hurried to add in Declan’s defense. “He couldn’t have. We’ve discussed it and he wouldn’t lie to me. He’s the most wonderful man, caring and kind. And he is so sweet to his daughter.”
“Oh, how romantic!” Yvette cried in surprised delight, clasping her hands together. “A forbidden love! It’s even better than I could have imagined!”
Feeling relieved at her reaction, Paulette should have known that Yvette would brush aside any cloud of suspicion against Declan. Yvette lived for romance. And Declan Reeves already had too many points in his favor. The danger and forbidden elements only added to his appeal in Yvette’s eyes.
“Has he kissed you yet?” Yvette asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“Yes.” Paulette nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“How could you not tell me this part?” Yvette shook her head in a mixture of disbelief and glee. “How was it? What did you think of kissing?”
“I can’t even describe to you how wonderful it is.”
Yvette squealed in delight, clapping her hands. “I can’t believe you’ve kissed someone. Finally!”
“And that’s not all,” Paulette murmured very low.
Her face stricken with awe, Yvette grabbed Paulette’s hand in hers. “Oh, Paulette, tell me please. What else have you done?”
“Everything.”
Eyes wide, her sister gasped. “Everything?”
Paulette nodded somberly, her cheeks flaming.
“Oh, Paulette,” Yvette said, breathlessly. “I don’t even know what to say.”
The room grew quiet and the fire crackled in the hearth.
“Everything, truly?” Yvette asked once more, eyeing her intensely.
“Yes.” Embarrassed, Paulette suddenly wished she hadn’t said anything at all.
“What is it like?” Yvette asked in wonder.
“It’s even better than Lisette and Colette had said it was.”
“Oh my! Paulette, this is so unlike you. You have a secret love!” Yvette giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.
“I never expected this to happen to me either. But it has.”
“I’m so happy for you I could cry!” She paused and gave her a look. “When are you going to get married?”
Paulette whispered low. “We’re not going to marry.”
“What!? Why in heaven’s name not?” Yvette demanded in confusion.
“Because neither of us wishes to get married.”
“But Paulette, what are you—How can you just—He has to marry you now!” Yvette cried in indignation.
“No, he doesn’t,” she said softly. “And I’m happy with the way things are between us.”
“Then why were you crying just now?”
The tears welled up in Paulette’s eyes again. “Because I miss him, and I can’t see him when I want to and I’m tired of keeping all of these secrets.” She sobbed like a little girl, releasing all the pent-up emotions of the past weeks.
“Well, why can’t you see him anymore?” Yvette asked.
Paulette then launched into the tale of the mysterious and threatening letters and how Declan insisted she have an escort wherever she go and how she missed him, but was worried about whoever was watching them.
“Then just tell Colette and Lucien the truth,” Yvette suggested. “I’m sure they will understand. If you love him so much, then we are sure to love him as well.”
Paulette shook her head, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief again. She felt a bit foolish, but it felt good to clear her conscience a little. “No, I don’t think they will understand at all. They will think I have gone completely mad. Colette has already met Declan and warned me to stay away from him. And Jeffrey is already suspicious of him and—”
“Jeffrey!” Yvette exclaimed, her eyes narrowing. “Jeffrey Eddington? What does he have to do with any of this? How does he know about your Irish earl?”
“I was in Green Park with Declan and his daughter one Sunday afternoon and Jeffrey saw us together. He doesn’t approve of Declan and thinks he may have killed his wife,” Paulette explained. “I begged him not to tell anyone and he promised he wouldn’t. But if Jeffrey does not trust him, then Lucien won’t trust him either. Neither will Colette. If they knew about the letters, they would never let me leave Devon House, let alone see Declan.”
“Yes, I see your point.” Yvette nodded in agreement, patting Paulette’s shoulder in comfort. “But still, Paulette, you can’t go on like this . . .”

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