The Irish Heiress

by Kaitlin O’Riley

  “I’ll see what I can do,” said Briggs, looking thoughtful. “But I did hear about one thing today that seemed a little odd. One of Lord Sterling’s housemaids, Nellie, tells me things from time to time, if I buy her a pint at the King’s Head. She was how I found out about his last mistress. Nice girl, Nellie. Pretty, too. Anyway, Nellie told me just this morning before I came to see you, that lately Lord Sterling has been giving the entire staff the night off.”

  Rose’s interest piqued. “How often does he do this?”

  “Nellie says about once a week for the last month or so.” Briggs shrugged his shoulders. “Says he never gives them much notice, just tells them all to leave for the night. Only the butler stays. But I’ve tried talking to him before. That guy is shut up tighter than a nun’s—” He cut himself off, slightly embarrassed. “Anyway . . . Nellie says it’s all very mysterious and no one knows why he’s been doing this.”

  “Well, I know why!” Rose declared with great annoyance.

  Briggs looked at her with a mystified expression.

  “Honestly, Briggs!” Rose snapped. “If I can figure this out, surely you can!”

  He scratched his head, looking uncomfortable. “Well, my lady, like I told you, I only just learned about it before I saw you, so I haven’t had as much time to mull it over as I’d like to.”

  “Must I spell it out for you, Briggs?” Exasperated, Rose took a fortifying breath. “When Lord Sterling dismisses his house servants, he is obviously having a secret rendezvous with a woman. A woman whose honor he wishes to keep protected.”

  The man raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. “You may be right about that, my lady.”

  “Of course I’m right about that!” she barked, biting her tongue before she called him a fool. Talking to him was causing her head to throb more than usual. “Now this is a different kind of assignment than the others. This one will require you to use all your wits. What you need to do, Briggs, is find out exactly who Lord Sterling is entertaining on these nights.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Rose reached into her reticule and gave him a pound note. “Go buy Nellie a few drinks at the King’s Head and make her promise to tell you right away the next time Lord Sterling dismisses them for the evening. And then you sit yourself outside that townhouse all night and watch who comes and goes. I want to know every detail, no matter how insignificant you may think it is. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, my lady, I do.” Briggs pocketed the money and tipped his hat. “I will report back to you the moment I discover anything of note. Good day, Lady Sterling.”

  Rose then spent the next two days at the Hotel Savoy, waiting for news from Briggs. Furious that Foster wished to end the marriage because he wanted to marry someone else, Rose was beside herself. She had not cared a whit that Foster had kept mistresses over the years. In fact, she gladly welcomed their presence in his life. These cheap women had kept Foster happily occupied and away from her, and that had been her main concern. It was the only reason she had her husband watched.

  As long as Foster had a woman in his bed, Rose could rest easily in hers.

  Rose’s life had been nothing but a series of disappointments, despair, and heartaches, and she would be damned if Foster was going to leave her with nothing after everything she had been through. Being the Countess of Sterling was all she had left, and she refused to give up what rightfully belonged to her.

  What made him think he could simply walk away and cut her out of his life, as though she never mattered or never existed? How dared he? She simply wouldn’t have it. Not now. Not after everything that had happened to her.

  “You haven’t eaten yet today, my lady,” Alice Bellwether reminded her as they sat in her hotel suite. “Shall I bring you some biscuits or tea cakes?”

  Rose didn’t want to eat anything. She was too angry and too tired to eat. Alice meant well, of course, but Rose was growing weary of her constant hovering. Yet she could not alienate Alice. That woman was the only person in the world who cared about her.

  Rose placated her. “I promise that I’ll eat something a little late—”

  A sudden knock at their hotel room door caught her attention.

  It was Briggs and he happened to come calling with some important news, a vital piece of information, which cheered Rose greatly.

  “When Nellie gave me the word, I spent all night, as soon as it was dark, watching Lord Sterling’s house.” Briggs smiled triumphantly as he spoke. “You were right, my lady. I saw a woman wearing a dark cloak enter the back of the townhouse in the early evening, just past six. So I waited and watched until Lord Sterling took her home in his carriage in the wee hours of the morning.”

  And wasn’t her home just the clue they needed to identify her? Devon House. That large, white monstrosity of a house in Mayfair that belonged to the Marquis of Stancliff was where the girl lived. At first Rose thought that perhaps Foster was having an affair with Lady Stancliff, but that didn’t quite fit. Colette Sinclair had a grown son only a few years younger than Foster. Besides being the wrong age for Foster, it was well-known that Lord and Lady Stancliff were besotted with each other. It took some further digging to discover the probable identity of the mystery woman, but Briggs had come through for her yet again.

  It seemed Lord and Lady Stancliff had their pretty, young niece staying with them. A Lady Mara Reeves, and by all accounts she was a sweet, quiet little thing. Just the sort of lady who would need her honor protected. The daughter of the Earl of Cashelmore would not want her name and reputation sullied and would certainly not want the world to know that she was carrying on an illicit affair with a married man.

  Thrilled by the discovery, Rose gave Briggs a large bonus, told him to buy Nellie another drink, and instructed him to keep up his surveillance of Foster’s residence as well as Devon House, and continue to report back to her daily. In the meantime she could not resist a little peek at the new lady in Foster’s life.

  So there Rose found herself, seated in a carriage outside Devon House with Alice Bellwether by her side, hoping and waiting for Lady Mara Reeves to appear. It was a damp October afternoon and she shivered, in spite of the hot bricks at her feet and the thick woolen blanket wrapped around her.

  “It’s so cold! I can’t feel my toes.” Rubbing her hands together, Alice asked impatiently, “How much longer should we wait here?”

  “Until I see what I came for.” Rose prayed it would not be much longer. Her whole body ached, her head was splitting, and she was just as cold as Alice claimed to be. But she needed to see the girl with her own eyes. She needed to be sure. She had to know. Who was this girl who thought she could simply waltz in and take Rose’s husband from her? Who was this woman that Foster intended to marry after he got rid of Rose?

  Suddenly her heart leapt when Alice cried, “There! Look!”

  Rose peered out the carriage window in anticipation. Was it her?

  The large front doors of Devon House opened and down the marble steps came two ladies. Both were attractive and elegantly dressed. Rose focused her attention on the younger one, following her hunch that this was Lady Mara Reeves with her aunt.

  The girl was petite and very fair and seemed quite delicate. Her silvery blond hair was visible under the stylish little bonnet on her head. Rose had to admit there was an aura of fragility and innocence about the girl. But she barely had time to notice more than that before the two women climbed into the large carriage waiting for them out front.

  “Was that her?” Alice asked breathlessly, her red curls bouncing with excitement under her hat.

  “I’m not entirely sure, but I believe it may be.” Rose instructed her coach driver to follow the carriage with the two women. “Let’s see where they go.”

  They didn’t have long to find out. Both carriages made their way through the London streets until they stopped outside what seemed to be a bookshop.

  Alice could barely contain herself. “They must be shopping! Shall we go in to
o?”

  Catching some of Alice’s enthusiasm, Rose had a burst of energy she hadn’t felt in years. Why not go in? The girl had no idea who Rose was. She’d get a better glimpse of her this way. So with some effort, Alice and the coachman helped Rose down from the carriage and the two of them made their way into a store called the Hamilton Sisters’ Book Shoppe.

  It was a fairly modern, large building with a handsome façade. The bell over the door jingled as they walked in. The inside of the shop was lovely, actually. Rose had never set foot in a bookstore before, since reading had never interested her, but the place surprised her. It was light, airy, and inviting. Wooden bookshelves were attractively arranged and there were pretty displays of sundry articles, such as stationery, notepaper, inkpots and writing implements. Comfortable seating areas and tables with light refreshments of fragrant teas and freshly baked scones were available for the enjoyment of their patrons.

  Rose and Alice meandered slowly around the shop. Rose nearly forgot to keep an eye out for the girl, so entranced was she with the bookstore. It almost made her wish she enjoyed reading books. A heavy sigh escaped her. Why hadn’t she ever visited a bookshop before? Or spent her days reading a book or two from time to time? There had been so many lost opportunities in her life and so many things she would never do. Sadness enveloped her.

  “Where did they go?” Alice whispered.

  “I’m not sure,” Rose replied. The store wasn’t so large that they could easily lose two people. Granted, there were other customers browsing and some salesclerks were walking about, but there were no signs of the two women. How could they just disappear? It made no sense.

  “May I help you, ma’am?”

  Rose spun around at the sound of a soft, pleasant voice with a trace of an accent and came face-to-face with her. At this close range, Rose could see how stunningly beautiful the girl was. Soft ivory skin, a pert little nose, silky blond hair, rosebud lips, and those eyes! She had the most remarkable eyes. They were wide and thickly lashed, but it was the color. Were they soft green or misty gray? They were mesmerizing.

  Well, the girl certainly didn’t seem to be a seductress, or even particularly sophisticated. There was a sweet innocence about her. Surely she could not be the one who was visiting Foster’s bed at night! Rose just could not see it!

  “Is there a particular book I can help you find?” The girl smiled at her, radiating kindness. “Or would you prefer to just browse on your own?”

  Rose suddenly lost her voice.

  Confused by the girl’s words, Rose didn’t know what to say. Was the girl working here? Was she employed to work in a bookshop? It made no sense whatsoever. Young noble ladies did not work! In shops! Rose grew a little dizzy, trying to comprehend the situation.

  A look of genuine concern came over the girl’s pretty face. “Ma’am, are you sure you are quite well? Would you care to sit down? Can I get you a glass of water, perhaps?”

  Rose cleared her throat. “Yes, please. Thank you. That would be most appreciated.”

  “Of course, please come this way.” She guided Rose a short distance to a chintz-covered armchair, while Alice scurried behind them. The girl then instructed another employee to fetch some water for her.

  Actually grateful to sit down, Rose hadn’t realized how tired she was. She sank into the comfortable flowered cushions, trying to catch her breath. Alice began to hover over her. However, the girl simply stood there, remaining calm and handing the glass of water to Rose when it arrived.

  “Please just rest for a moment or two,” she suggested kindly, her voice full of earnestness and sympathy. “Can I get you anything else?”

  Rose shook her head before taking a sip of the cool water. It did help revive her somewhat. “Thank you,” she managed to utter. “You’ve been quite kind. Please tell me your name . . .”

  “I’m Mara Reeves.”

  It was her. Lady Mara Reeves. This lovely woman was the one. Foster was leaving her for this pretty young girl. This was the woman who was sneaking over to Foster’s house in the dark of night. This was whom he wanted to marry. Rose could easily understand Foster’s desire to wed this woman. In spite of her reckless behavior at night, there was nothing tawdry or cheap about Lady Mara Reeves. Unlike the other types of women Foster consorted with.

  “And please feel free to rest as long as you like,” Mara said with a little smile. “I’ll be over by the counter up front if you have need of me.” She then moved to leave.

  “Have you worked here long?” Rose couldn’t help herself from asking, not wanting the girl to leave just yet.

  Mara turned to face her with a contented air. “Yes, I’ve worked here since I was a little girl. My family owns this shop. If you are looking for anything in particular or would like some help choosing a book, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”

  Rose didn’t know what to say to that, aside from the big question she was dying to ask. Why are you trying to steal my husband?

  The situation was not at all what she expected. This woman was not what she had envisioned as the type to be having an affair with Foster.

  Rose suddenly hated this sweet, beautiful girl, who seemed lovely, kind, and well loved and cared for by her family. This young woman had her whole life ahead of her. A life that she apparently wanted to share with Rose’s husband.

  It was the kind of life that Rose had once wanted for herself years ago when she too had been young and hopeful. A life that Rose could never have. Would never have. Ever. Not now. It was over for her. It was far too late to change anything.

  But she certainly wasn’t giving up her husband to this girl who could still have whatever she wanted.

  Absolutely not. Rose was not having it.

  In that moment every single ounce of bitterness in her life, resentment of her parents, heartache over her lost love and dead child, and anger at Foster that dwelled within Rose boiled over into a deep and overwhelming hatred that was now directed squarely at this young girl who seemed to have everything. The girl who had the happy and fulfilling life that Rose should have had.

  Her head began to ache again and she desperately wanted to lie down. It was time to go. She had seen what she’d come for.

  With a heavy heart, Rose murmured her thanks to Foster’s harlot and motioned for Alice to help escort her from the shop. She had work of her own to do.

  She had to execute the next part of her plan.

  16

  Ramifications

  As Mara watched the sad, rather sickly looking woman leave the bookshop, an odd feeling settled over her chest. There was something strange about the woman, almost eerie. The way she looked at Mara, with a curious mixture of interest and dislike and surprise. Mara wondered who she was, even as she felt an incredible sense of relief at her departure.

  With a determined shake of her head, Mara gathered the heavy leather-bound ledger from behind the counter. She had more pressing matters to attend to than worrying about a peculiar woman who wandered into the shop.

  “Can I get you anything else, Mara?” asked Anna Hastings, a tall brunette. She was one of Hamilton’s most trusted managers and had worked there for years.

  “The ledger was all my aunt wanted to see, but thank you, Anna. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.” Mara made her way from the front counter to the staircase that led to the suite of private offices above the main shop.

  She had come to Hamilton Sisters’ Book Shoppe with Aunt Colette to go over the books and continue with the plans for the children’s bookshop that afternoon. But Mara was still reeling from her encounter with Phillip the night before last.

  That nightmare kept repeating over and over in her mind.

  Finding her cousin waiting for her in her bedroom gave Mara the shock of her life. The worry and anger on Phillip’s face was enough to bring her to tears. In fact, she did cry.

  Where the hell have you been?

  His question saw all her worst fears realized. And Mara had no reasonable answer that she c
ould give him. Truly, where on earth could she safely say she had been until three o’clock in the morning? There was nowhere. Instead, she simply stared at him, unable to speak or move. The horror at being found out had paralyzed her.

  “So you’re not going to answer me. I couldn’t get anything out of Brighton either,” he’d said as he scrutinized her.

  He was quite irate and justifiably so. Mara realized it was an anger born from his worry and concern for her welfare.

  Phillip had continued to rant at her. “Brighton claimed not to know where you were, only insisting that I not worry. She said that you were safe and not in any danger but managed to let slip that this was not your first venture out during the evenings when you’d led all of us to believe you weren’t feeling well.”

  Mara needed to give Brighton a wonderful bonus. Her lady’s maid was indeed a treasure. Brighton knew exactly where Mara had been, but she hadn’t revealed Mara’s secret, even under duress from her cousin. Brighton’s loyalty was exceptional. Although the poor girl must have been frightened by Phillip questioning her in such a manner.

  “So I’ve been sitting here for hours, wondering where my sweet little cousin could be all night . . .” Phillip began to pace back and forth in front of her. “Wondering where she has been spending more than a few nights. I’ve racked my brain trying to think of a logical and sane reason that would justify my lovely, unmarried cousin being out alone in the city until all hours. And do you know what, Mara?”

  Phillip had glared at her. Her heart slamming against her chest, Mara swallowed, but she had still not uttered a single word. She stared mutely at Phillip.

  “I could only come to one conclusion,” he continued explaining his thought process. “Care to take a guess as to what I came up with?”

  Very slowly Mara shook her head, her heart in her mouth. She wished she could just crawl into a hole in the floor and hide.