Ever since Paulette had first met Mara, the child had been a silent observer of the world around her. Traumatized by the horrific death of her mother, the child had not spoken a word in over a year, instead watching with her wide gray-green eyes, taking in everything around her. Little Mara had gravitated to Paulette right from the start. That alone touched Paulette’s heart as she grew to love Declan’s daughter in that moment.
Declan sounded remorseful. “I thought because she didn’t talk about it again, that she didn’t have any more of those visions. But looking back now, I may have been wrong. Perhaps I should have discussed it with her, pressed her a bit more to let me know what was happening with her.”
“How could you have known?” Paulette kissed his cheek. “Mara knows how much you love her, how much we both love and adore her. If anything was seriously troubling her, I believe she would have come to one of us.”
“I’d like to think she would. Yet her letters to us have revealed nothing unusual. She seems quite pleased with the plans for the children’s bookshop and working on the preparations with Colette.” Declan’s face grew pensive. “Maybe we’re wrong to think things are fine, though.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m not sure.” He shook his head. “I’ve just always worried about Mara. Not that she ever caused trouble or anything like that. She was always so sweet, loving, and thoughtful, and had been through such an awful ordeal that I worried about it haunting her and the effects it had on her. She’s always been so reticent to marry, that I fear that maybe she remembers things.”
“What things?”
“The night of the fire”—Declan closed his eyes—“and the awful things I screamed at Margaret, not knowing that Mara was there. Just all of it.”
Paulette hesitated for a moment. “I’ve given this a lot of thought, Declan. Whatever horrors Mara witnessed the night of the fire are one thing. And obviously watching her mother burn to death was the cause of her not speaking for a year. But she was so young and those memories fade over time, and it’s been close to twenty years now. If you’re worried about what happened between you and Margaret and you’re thinking that relationship has somehow caused Mara to fear marriage, I think you’re wrong. If anything, our marriage has set a wonderful example for her.”
“Then what do you think the matter is?” he asked, looking perplexed.
“I don’t know.” A weary sigh escaped her. “We’ve talked about her lack of interest in marriage many times, and I know you would be relieved to see her happily married to a man she loves, but that may not happen for her. Or it may not have happened yet. Mara is a very special girl and she deserves a very special man to love her. She has not met him yet. But I wouldn’t worry about that. She will be fine either way. She has your resilience.”
Declan frowned. “But she also has Margaret’s blood in her, and that’s what worries me.”
“But we’ve been the ones influencing her all these years, giving her a stable home and lots of love,” Paulette offered. “Mara isn’t capricious and moody or reckless like Margaret was, from all your accounts of her.”
“I know, but I still worry about her. My daughter is not like everyone else.”
Paulette knew what her husband meant. There was a fey-like quality about Mara. At times she seemed almost otherworldly. And it was true that Mara had a sense about things happening sometimes.
“Do you think maybe Mara’s sight has lain dormant all these years because she was safe and loved?” Paulette asked. “And for whatever reason, now, as an adult, it has resurfaced and she just hasn’t told us about it? Do you think she had another vision about something terrible happening? To her? Or to one of us? Is that why Jeffrey thinks she’s distressed?”
Declan nodded reluctantly. “That could be.”
“You know, Declan,” Paulette continued, thinking aloud, “she never did tell us the reason why she wanted to stay in London. She said it was just a feeling she had, that she needed to stay for a little longer. But it’s been almost two months and she has made no mention of wanting to join us here. Perhaps she felt that something terrible would happen if she came to Ireland with us.”
“Maybe you’re right, Paulette,” Declan said slowly.
“About what?”
“We should go back to London,” he announced.
“Right away?” she asked. Paulette knew in her heart that going home was the right thing to do.
“Yes,” he said with an emphatic nod. “Let’s tell Thomas together. Then I’ll start making arrangements to sail home.”
Paulette flung her arms around Declan’s neck and kissed him. She was flooded with a great sense of relief. “Oh, I was hoping you’d say that! Let’s leave as soon as we can! We’ll surprise her!”
18
Interpretations
Mara lay exhausted in his arms, their naked bodies entwined beneath the tangled sheets of his large bed.
Foster still could not believe that this exquisitely beautiful woman loved him. He didn’t deserve her, but it would take more than moving heaven and earth for him to give her up now, for he couldn’t imagine living without her in his life. He kissed her forehead tenderly as she snuggled into him. Lord, how he loved the feel of her in his arms!
After her cousin Phillip Sinclair had discovered that she had been sneaking out at night, he feared she would no longer come to him. But she had shown up tonight, just as they had planned. Although a little early, as she always did!
He was now more resolved than ever to end his marriage to Rose.
He needed, wanted, to marry Mara. As soon as he possibly could.
The past week had been a blur of meetings with his solicitor, and things were on track with the annulment going through. If all went well, Foster would be able to marry her in the new year.
The thought of marrying her, of having Mara as his wife, made him incredibly happy. Happier than he thought he had a right to be. Happier than he ever dreamed possible. He wanted to shout from the rooftop his joy at having her in his life. He wanted to walk out in the daylight with her. He wanted to dance with her at a ball. He wanted to sit with her at the theater. He wanted to exclaim to the world that she was his wife and that they belonged together.
But even more than that, he wanted to share a home with her. He wanted her beside him in bed at night, and wanted to see her pretty face when he woke up each morning. He wanted a house full of beautiful children with her. He wanted to grow old with Mara by his side.
In order to do that, he had to end his marriage-in-name-only to Rose.
Rose.
He hated to hurt her. Truly. He would provide well for her, making sure she was cared for financially. And who knew, perhaps she could even find love in her life and marry again? Rose was not even thirty years old yet. She could still find happiness for herself and maybe have a family of her own one day. Foster just knew that the two of them would never find happiness together. It was far too late for that. Even if there had ever been a glimmer of hope for them, it had been permanently doused the moment he met Mara.
Mara.
She had come to mean the world to him in such a short amount of time.
“Foster?” she whispered through the darkness as the clock on his mantel chimed two o’clock in the morning. They had just made love, yet again, and both were dreading when the time came to take her home. “Can I ask you something?”
Idly his hand stroked her back, thinking how lovely it would be when she could sleep with him the whole night through. Up and down, his fingers gently caressed her back. Mara’s skin was impossibly smooth. He asked, “What is it, my love?”
“You mentioned ending your marriage . . .” Her voice was oddly tinged with worry.
“Yes, I did,” he answered. “And I am.”
He sensed the hesitation in her before she spoke. “Well, I . . . I just wanted to tell you . . . that you don’t have to end your marriage simply for my sake.”
“Mara, love, I’m end
ing that marriage for both our sakes, for both of our futures together. You must know that. I can’t bear being married to Rose for one more day. Not only that, I want to marry you the moment I am free to do so.” He suddenly paused, a terrible sense of dread creeping over him. “You do wish to marry me, don’t you?”
The long silence that ensued caused his heart to stop. She was not saying yes. How was such a thing possible? What on earth was going on inside that pretty head of hers?
“Mara?” he questioned, becoming alarmed at her lack of response. Why was she not answering him?
“I told you,” she began reluctantly, her voice trembling a little. “The day we met in the park. I told you that very first day that I had no interest in ever getting married and having a family with anyone. That I was content to have things just as they are between us.”
The woman lay naked in his arms, yet she didn’t want to marry him? It made no sense. “I thought you were simply putting up a good front, Mara, because I was already married and you knew that we could not wed. I assumed you were being a good sport, as it were. I certainly didn’t think you truly meant what you said!”
“Well, I meant it then.” She sniffed with a bit of an injured air. “And I still mean it now.”
Abruptly he sat up, lifting her with him, and reached over to turn on the lamp on the bedside table. It cast a hazy glow around them, so at least he could see her face, her expression. He needed to look at her, because he couldn’t believe what she was saying to him.
“Mara?” He gazed into her misty green eyes. “I don’t understand what you’re saying to me.”
She looked flustered, a bit panicked even, as she clutched the bedsheet over her breasts. Taking a shaky breath, she said once more, “I don’t wish to marry anyone, Foster. So please, I beg you, there is no need to go through all the trouble of ending your marriage, whether through a divorce or an annulment, just for my sake. You’d be wasting your time.”
Foster shook his head in disbelief. “We love each other, Mara. I love you and I thought you loved me.”
“I do love you, truly I do,” she said hurriedly, her eyes wide. “I love you more than anyone. I’ve only ever loved you, and I know I shall never love anyone but you for my entire life, Foster. You must believe that.”
“Then I don’t understand.” His heart began to race and a knot formed in his gut. What was going on here? If they loved each other, then what was the problem?
Loving Mara Reeves had irrevocably changed him. Loving her had filled his empty life with hope and happiness, making him want things he had previously thought impossibly out of reach. Being loved by her had made him feel like the luckiest man in the world. The thought of losing her . . . he could not bear it. If he lost Mara’s love now, he would fall into a deep pit of dark despair and loneliness from which he was certain he would never be able to escape. He would never be able to recover from the loss of her.
“I’m sorry that I can’t explain it to you better than this . . .” she said helplessly. “But I simply can’t marry you. I don’t wish to get married. Ever. No matter how much I love you. I thought you understood that when we started this . . . affair.”
“So is this all you want, Mara? To continue to meet like this, in secret, forever? To spend the rest of our days only seeing each other when we can arrange to be alone without arousing suspicion? Do you wish to be nothing more to me than my mistress? Shall I set you up in a house of your own? Let your family disown you with your reputation in tatters? Is that what you really want? Because that is the future that awaits us if we continue like this.”
Mara looked horrified, but she remained oddly silent.
“Well, that’s the best you can hope for if I don’t end my marriage, Mara,” he said coldly, trying to impress upon her the severity of their situation. “You, the daughter of an earl, a well-bred lady from a distinguished family, you will be reduced to the humiliation of being my mistress, creating a scandal the likes of which this town hasn’t seen in decades, when word gets out. And it will. You would face public scorn and ridicule. You would be ostracized. Is that what you want? Because I certainly don’t want that. Not for you. Not for us. What I want is for you to become my wife so I can love you for the rest of my life.”
He suddenly saw that she was crying. Tears were streaming down her sweet face and it just about killed him to see her like that. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her again.
“It doesn’t have to be that way, Mara. Please, let me make this right, for both of us. I love you. Let me marry you.” He whispered into her hair over and over that he loved her, while she sobbed against his shoulder, her delicate body shaking.
Foster knew a thing or two about women. He wasn’t completely clueless, given his relationships over the years. But never had he been with a woman who seemed so devastated and wracked with grief. Mara’s anguish was undeniable, but he didn’t know how to soothe her, how to make it right. His overwhelming desire to protect her and take care of her left him feeling ridiculously helpless. How had the simple and honorable question of asking her to marry him reduced her to this sobbing, hysterical mess? How had a proposal become such a problem?
“Mara, my love, help me understand, please,” he pleaded with her. “You’re breaking my heart here. I deserve a real explanation. Why don’t you want to get married?”
“If I told you why, if I told you the real reason, you wouldn’t ever want to marry me,” she mumbled through her tears.
“My sweet, sweet Mara, there is absolutely nothing you could have done that would possibly change my feelings about making you my wife.” He was stunned by her words. Had she lost her wits? What on earth was the woman thinking? He attempted to tease her out of her sadness. “How can you think such things? Have you gone crazy on me?”
At his words, Mara released a cry of sorrow. She suddenly pushed herself away from him. She scrambled out of the bed before he could stop her. Frantically she began dressing, pulling on her stockings and undergarments faster than he thought possible. Stunned by her actions, Foster too rose from the bed and began putting his clothes on.
Wordlessly he helped to fasten her dress. He didn’t know what else to say to her. Whatever he did say was wrong, or set her to crying. It was late and probably best that they call it a night. She seemed too distraught to talk rationally anyway. He had professed his love for her over and over and she didn’t seem to believe him. Although he hated for her to leave while she was so upset.
When they were both dressed, she moved toward the bedroom door, but he reached for her hand. “Mara,” he called softly.
“Please just take me home now.” She would not meet his eyes.
“Listen to me,” he pleaded, hating himself for what he was about to say. “We can’t go on like this much longer. If you don’t want to marry me, I can’t keep risking your reputation this way. It’s your whole life we’re talking about. If your cousin already knows, it’s only a matter of time before others find out as well . . .” He took a breath, feeling a weight crushing his chest. “We shouldn’t see each other anymore, Mara.”
She flinched, but still she would not meet his gaze. Her eyes were glued to the door. She looked like a frightened deer that would startle and flee at the slightest movement.
“I’ m going ahead with the annulment, Mara. I can’t bear to be married to Rose, whether you and I are together or not. So if nothing else, I thank you for inspiring me to do that. But if you have no intention of marrying me”—he pointed to the two of them—“then this, whatever this is, is over between us.”
Mara remained silent. He still held one hand while her other hand reached for the doorknob.
“You need only say the word, though, and I am yours. I will wait for you to change your mind, Mara, however long it takes. I love you and I will marry you anytime you say.”
She gave a brief nod of her head, pulled her hand from his, and opened the door to the bedroom. She squared her shoulders and walked into the hallway.
Foster’s heart sank as he watched her go.
* * *
Mara didn’t sleep a wink when she returned home from her night with Foster. They had not spoken a word to each other while he escorted her home in his carriage, for there was nothing left to say.
The evening had not ended the way she had wanted. She thought he would love her enough and want her enough to continue seeing each other the way things were. She had not expected him to end their affair.
The loss paralyzed her.
The devastation left her without tears. It was as if she were frozen. She lay in bed until the sun came up, just staring at the ceiling and feeling an enormous hole open up inside her heart.
Foster loved her and she loved him, yet circumstances beyond their control kept them apart. Mara could never live a normal life, nor could she explain to Foster the reason why she couldn’t marry him.
Those damned visions were haunting her and she couldn’t figure out what they meant. All the other visions she’d had in her life had come to pass relatively quickly. She had always understood what was going to happen to someone she loved, whether it was her little brother falling down the stairs or her cousin Sara getting married. Yet this one, this one with the flames that terrified her, was becoming more vivid and more horrifying each time she experienced it. The fact that this vision was reoccurring was especially terrifying, for that had never happened to her before either.
Did the increasing frequency mean that the event was growing closer to happening? Was she to be involved in some sort of fire? Or was it as Foster believed, a discarded memory from the fire in which her mother died?
It frustrated her not to know what any of it meant. Or when or if it would even happen. Was she in grave danger? Was Foster? Was there something Mara needed to do to prevent this calamity and the sense of death in the vision?
She didn’t know what the vision foretold. Were she and Foster meant to be together or not? Now she was confused by the images. And that strange woman! Who was she and what was she doing in her premonition?
The Irish Heiress Page 19