The Irish Heiress

by Kaitlin O’Riley

  Although she hated to trouble them, her parents were already worried about her. A twenty-two-year-old daughter who did not have a husband or the prospect of one would give any parents cause for concern, if not outright panic. After a few seasons had gone by without an offer of marriage or even a romantic interest on Mara’s part, her marital status had been quite the delicate topic of discussion in her family. A young girl was supposed to marry, and set up a home of her own with a husband, not become a dreaded spinster and therefore a drain upon her family.

  What is wrong with Lady Mara? Doesn’t she want to get married? Those two questions followed her around at every social event, those she was asked directly by well-intentioned acquaintances and those overheard as whispers behind her back.

  Oh, Mara had seen the anxious and troubled looks on the faces of her father and mother, had noted the confused expressions of her aunts and uncles, and had caught a few pitying glances from so-called friends. Yet she never meant to cause worry or alarm for the people she loved.

  It wasn’t that Mara didn’t wish to marry or have a family of her own one day. It was just that Mara had always known that she would never marry. She couldn’t marry. Not after what had happened with her own mother. No, she feared too much how that would turn out, so she deftly steered clear of any romantic entanglements that could possibly lead to marriage.

  With her subtle ways, Mara could dissuade any interested suitor who was drawn to her quiet manner. It only took a few times, and then after a while the word got out that the Earl of Cashelmore’s daughter was a hard sell and destined to be on the shelf, and the gentlemen stayed away from her. And as Mara declined invitations, she received fewer invitations, and her reputation as reclusive, shy, and a bit odd continued to grow, to the great astonishment of her family.

  As each social season passed, Mara became less involved. In fact, she wouldn’t have even participated in this past season at all, if Sara and Aunt Juliette had not arrived from New York unexpectedly. Mara had merely gone along with attending balls and parties because she promised her cousin she’d go with her. Last night she’d only been at the ball because it was Uncle Jeffrey’s birthday celebration.

  Her father, Mara knew, worried about her more than anyone. Although she hated to cause him any trouble or pain, she could not marry simply to please him.

  “What is it, Mara, darlin’?” her father asked, the sweetness back in his voice. “Why don’t you want to come to Ireland with us?”

  “It’s hard to describe . . . It’s just a strong feeling I have, Papa.” She attempted to explain as best she could. “Something in my heart tells me I need to be in London for a little while longer. I’ll come join you eventually, I promise. Could I please stay? At least a little longer? Just a few weeks?”

  Her father’s brows drew together, his expression full of worry and concern. “Is it one of those . . . odd feelings? Like the ones you mentioned having long ago?”

  Reluctantly, Mara nodded her head. So he remembered her telling him of the premonitions she’d had? He’d been so aghast that she’d never mentioned them again. Mara feared that the feelings, those premonitions, meant that she had some sort of terrible mental illness.

  Paulette sighed in sympathy. “Although I don’t entirely understand your reasoning, I do respect your desire to remain in London. And if some part of you believes strongly that you should stay, then I understand that too. I would stay here with you if I could, Mara, you know that, it’s just that leaving you all alone places your father and me in an awkward position—”

  “But I wouldn’t really be alone at all!” Mara exclaimed, suddenly seeing a solution and wondering why she hadn’t thought of it sooner. “I have Aunt Colette and Uncle Lucien and Phillip and Simon. I could stay with Aunt Lisette and Uncle Quinton. Or with Aunt Yvette and Uncle Jeffrey. Not to mention all the cousins. I wouldn’t be alone in London at all.”

  “The sweet lass has a point.” Declan gave her a wry smile. “We do have quite a lot of relatives here in town.”

  Paulette looked surprised that she had completely forgotten about her entire family. She was the fourth of the five Hamilton sisters who were remarkably close with each other. With a little laugh, she said, “Why, yes, that’s true. I suppose you could stay with any one of them.”

  “Of course I could.” Mara would have preferred to stay in her own home, but she wasn’t about to push her luck any further. Staying in London with one of Paulette’s sisters was not at all a bad trade. Mara loved each and every one of her aunts and would be hard-pressed to choose which one of them to stay with.

  “Is there something you’re not telling us, Mara?” Paulette eyed her closely.

  “Good heavens, no!” Mara gave a nervous smile. “What is there that I wouldn’t tell you? You know how I am. If anything were wrong I would tell you. I promise.”

  Her parents exchanged another secretive look.

  Mara always envied that easy, wordless communication between the two of them. Was it simply something that happened to all couples who were married for a long time, that they could have a whole conversation with each other without speaking a single word? Or was it a special bond between two people in love? Whatever it was, she always wished to belong to someone that way, to someone who understood her so completely that words were unnecessary.

  “Are you sure this is what you want, darlin’? For us to go to Ireland without you? I’d rather not leave you behind,” her father questioned, still hoping she would change her mind.

  “Yes, I am quite sure.” Mara’s heart beat faster just knowing that they were about to say yes. She wouldn’t have to leave London after all! There was now a chance that she would run into Lord Sterling again. Anything was possible! Mara felt as though she could float right off her chair.

  “We’re not leaving for a few days yet, so you can always change your mind, you know,” Paulette said kindly. “And meanwhile, I’ll check with my sisters to see which of them you can stay with for the next month or so. We were planning to come back to London just before Christmas anyway, but if at any time you want to come join us, you know you can.”

  “So it’s settled then?” Mara questioned, almost holding her breath. “I can stay in London?”

  After a suspenseful pause, her parents nodded their heads.

  “To be clear, I’m not happy about this, but I can’t fight you and your mother. Two beautiful ladies is my limit,” Declan said reluctantly, his handsome face drawn in concern. “I’ve never made you do anything you didn’t wish to, darlin’, and I’m not about to start now.”

  “Oh, thank you, Papa!” Mara jumped from her seat and rushed to his side. She placed a kiss on her father’s cheek. “It means so much to me.”

  Then Mara went to Paulette and hugged her. “Thank you so much for understanding.”

  Paulette hugged her back tightly, whispering, “I’m not so sure I do understand, Mara, but it seems quite important to you.”

  “It is.” Mara sighed with relief, as she returned to her seat at the table. She’d never felt this way before. She was grateful to not have to go away with her family, yet excited to stay and to discover the meaning of her premonition.

  An unfamiliar exuberance bubbled within her. For the first time in her life Mara was standing up for herself and doing something on her own. She rather liked this new feeling of independence.

  4

  Invitations

  “We’ll have a grand time together this evening!”

  Simon Sinclair declared with enthusiasm. He smiled at Mara with glee as they rode through the park in the open carriage. It was a gorgeous September afternoon and Green Park was filled with fashionable people in fancy carriages, taking in the scenery.

  Mara was now safely ensconced in a lovely guestroom at Devon House, her aunt Colette’s massive townhome in Mayfair. Her parents and brother, Thomas, had sailed for Ireland the day before, and Mara was more convinced than ever that she had made the right decision by remaining in London. She�
��d also carefully chosen to stay with Colette. Aunt Lisette and Aunt Yvette had younger children, but by staying at Devon House, Mara was sure to be escorted around by her cousins Phillip and Simon, and therefore giving herself a better chance of running into Lord Sterling somewhere. At the very least she would be able to find out more about him from her cousins.

  Now that she had managed to remain in London, she needed to figure out how to find Lord Sterling. She knew next to nothing about him, and she couldn’t very well ask her cousins to take her to call on him. The best plan she could think of was to attend as many dinners, musicales, parties, and balls that she could with the hopes of meeting him at one. In the meantime she would endeavor to quietly gather any information about Lord Sterling through those she met.

  It was well-known that attending social events was not her favorite pastime, and she wondered if her sudden interest in parties would raise the eyebrows of her aunts and uncles. But Mara had no choice but to venture out and about if she hoped to ever see Lord Sterling again.

  The feelings in her premonition had been too powerful and too wonderful to ever ignore or forget. She simply had to pursue him, if only to find out what it all meant. And why things had ended so abruptly between them that night. So she would endeavor to find out all she could about him and hope that they crossed paths again. And she had a feeling they would.

  “Yes, we’ll have a lovely time this evening,” Mara agreed with Simon, brightening her smile.

  “I’m glad you’re getting out a bit, Mara,” Aunt Colette said.

  Colette Sinclair, Marchioness of Stancliff, seated beside her in the carriage, was an elegantly dressed, undeniably pretty woman with lovely blue eyes. With the exception of her coffee-colored hair, Aunt Colette looked and sounded remarkably like Paulette, which gave Mara a wonderful sense of comfort with her parents away. If her aunt had been shocked by her decision not to go to Ireland, she didn’t show it, and for that Mara was most grateful.

  “But don’t let my boys pressure you to attend something you don’t wish to, either,” Aunt Colette continued. “You have the freedom to do whatever you like and, of course, Lucien and I are perfectly delighted to have you staying with us at Devon House. You know I’m always happy to have your help at the bookshop. And having their pretty cousin here, keeps Simon and Phillip on their best behavior,” she added with a wink.

  “Thank you, Aunt Colette. I shall do my best to keep the boys in line. And I adore helping at the store,” Mara replied.

  Mara never minded working at the family’s bookstores, in London and in Dublin. In fact she loved Hamilton’s Book Shoppe. If it weren’t for that particular London shop, her father never would have met and married Paulette Hamilton. Since she was four years old, the bookshop had been an echanted place for Mara and she had a special fondness for the children’s section.

  “We don’t need to be kept in line, so much as to be kept occupied,” Phillip said, but the look on his face contradicted his words. At twenty-three, the charming and handsome heir to his father’s marquisate, Phillip Sinclair was one of the most eligible young men in London. He looked just like his father, Lucien Sinclair, with his dark hair and dimples. Popular and well liked, the Sinclair brothers were always in demand at parties and enjoyed a busy social calendar. “We’ll make sure Cousin Mara has fun, won’t we, Simon?”

  “Of course we will,” Simon chimed in. Younger than Mara, the boyishly attractive Simon resembled the Hamilton side of the family, with his lighter hair and blue eyes. “We always love escorting Mara around.”

  “We’re glad you decided not to go to Ireland,” Phillip said. “You’ll have a better time here with us.”

  Mara wished she could ask Phillip straight out what he knew about Lord Sterling. He’d been with her the night she met the man and it would certainly be easier. But she was too afraid to mention it. Ever since they were all children, he and Simon had been like brothers to her. They treated her more as a little sister than a cousin, and she instinctively knew she could not confide in them about her interest in Lord Sterling. Phillip and Simon would undoubtedly become even more overprotective and more than likely tease her unmercifully about it. Cousin Mara has finally been love struck! She couldn’t abide that.

  No, what she needed to do was to chat casually to a stranger and gather information about Lord Sterling that way, without arousing her cousins’ suspicions.

  “We’re all happy you’re staying in London with us, Mara,” Aunt Colette began. “I admit I’m more and more intrigued by your idea for a new bookshop. Ever since you mentioned it to me, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “What are your thoughts, Aunt Colette?”

  “Well, I’ve discussed it with Lucien, and he’s a little skeptical. We already have the largest selection of children’s books in London at Hamilton’s, and he doesn’t see the need for a separate store for children. But I can’t help but believe it’s something not only that we could do, but something we should do. There’s never been such a place! A special shop devoted solely to children’s books! It is quite an innovative concept! And perhaps tomorrow you can come with me to the shop and we can discuss your suggestion in more detail.”

  The idea for a children’s bookstore had always been something that Mara had thought about. Hamilton’s Book Shoppe had a lovely children’s section, with miniature tables and chairs, which had seemed a charming and enchanted place to her when she was a child. But an entire store, devoted only to books for children, with inviting spaces for them to read and look through books, had been a favorite daydream of hers. Oddly enough, she had never shared her idea of a children’s bookshop before, not even with her mother.

  Yet on the spur of the moment only the day before, Mara suddenly told her aunt about her vision. Aunt Colette, being the oldest of the Hamilton sisters and the one most vested in the family business next to Paulette, did not scoff at her idea. In fact, she was intrigued by it.

  “Of course, Aunt Colette. I should love to come to the shop with you tomorrow,” Mara said happily. All the Hamilton girls worked in the shop at one point or another. Her mother, Paulette, had even opened another Hamilton’s Book Shoppe in Dublin.

  “I am actually excited to have a new project we can all work on together,” Colette continued excitedly.

  As the carriage made its way back to Devon House, Mara fell silent. It would be good to have the bookshop as a distraction. Her thoughts were too preoccupied with Lord Sterling and her premonition.

  “Good afternoon,” Parkins, the Devon House butler, greeted them as they returned home.

  “It’s such a lovely afternoon, let’s have tea outside, shall we? We don’t have many days left before the weather turns colder. Don’t you agree?” Aunt Colette asked them.

  “That sounds wonderful,” Mara answered, thinking some refreshment would be welcome after their drive.

  “These just arrived, my lady.” Parkins held a silver tray holding some letters to Aunt Colette. “Lady Mara, there is a letter here for you also.”

  “Thank you, Parkins,” Aunt Colette said before giving instructions to the butler to set up tea out on the veranda.

  Mara took her letter from the silver tray and glanced at the unfamiliar writing with puzzlement. It looked quite masculine. And it was not her father’s nor her brother’s writing. Bold, clean strokes neatly spelled out her name. Lady Mara Reeves. Suddenly that peculiar tingling crept along her spine. Goose bumps appeared on her arms and her mouth went dry.

  The letter was from him. She knew it.

  “I shall join you all in just a moment,” Mara mumbled, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. “Won’t you excuse me, Aunt Colette . . .”

  She fairly flew up the grand staircase to her room. After shutting the door behind her, she threw her parasol and gloves on the blue toile-covered divan, and took a deep breath. Still trembling with excitement, she sat upon the bed, letter in hand.

  It was from Lord Sterling.

  She didn’t even need to
read it to know it was from him. Her heart skittered in her chest. Here she was, wracking her brain trying to devise a way to find him, and he found her! Why had he written to her? And more interestingly to her way of thinking, how had he determined that she was at her aunt’s house? For the letter was clearly addressed to her at Devon House, not her family’s townhouse. So not only had Lord Sterling discovered where she lived, but also that she was staying with her aunt and uncle. Whom had he spoken to about her? And why would he not simply call upon her or send his card?

  A letter was not the expected manner with which a gentleman expressed his interest in a lady. Then again, the way the two of them had acted when they met had not been expected either.

  A thrill of excitement welled within her and with bated breath she unfolded the sheet of thick, monogrammed paper upon which Lord Sterling wrote to her. His address on Brook Street was inscribed at the top as well.

  My Dearest Lady Mara,

  Please forgive the great liberty I have taken in writing to you. Although, somehow I feel you will not mind my doing so.

  I must confess I have not been able to stop thinking of you since the night we met. The circumstances were most unusual and I have been captivated by thoughts of you ever since. Not knowing when I would see you again, I felt compelled to seek you out. However, I cannot call upon you in the customary manner.

  Would you do me the great honor of meeting with me? If you could arrange to be walking in Green Park tomorrow morning at half past nine, I will be waiting for you near the start of the Queen’s Walk.

  Yours,

  Foster

  Mara practically stopped breathing. He wants to see me! Tomorrow morning! Hardly able to contain her excitement, her absolute joy that he’d written to her, she squealed. Then she reread the letter three more times. She even memorized it. She didn’t know which pleased her more, that he said he was captivated by her, or that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of her, or that he’d signed his name simply, Foster.