Irish Meadows (20 page)

“I will as soon as I see him. But I know how much it upset you, as well. Though that's not the reason I did it.”

Brianna noted the sincerity on her sister's face and considered the fact that she may be telling the truth for once. “Why did you do it, if not to hurt me?”

Colleen raised her chin. “I needed Jared to break off our relationship, and it was the only way I could think of—for him to catch me with another man. I knew Gil was distressed over your betrothal to Henry, so I used his moment of weakness to my advantage.” She paused, crumpling the handkerchief into a ball. “Believe me, I'm not proud of that.”

Brianna inhaled and let the breath out slowly. How many times had Colleen repented in the past, only to do something equally hurtful when it suited her? Still, she was her sister, and right now any contact with her family was welcome. “I accept your apology.” Brianna managed a slight smile. “Especially since Daddy's not forcing you to say it.”

Colleen's lips quirked. “I admit I was angry with Daddy for sending me here, but he did me a big favor.” She became serious. “Helping these amazing children has opened my eyes to a lot of things about myself—none of which are admirable. Rylan is helping me turn my life around.”

Brianna blinked, too stunned to form a response.

Colleen reached out to take her hand. “What about you, Bree? Mama told me you've ended your betrothal to Henry, and now you're living with our aunt. Are you sure you're all right?”

Brianna couldn't remember her sister ever asking about her well-being. “I'm doing better—now that I'm away from Daddy's constant attempts to control my life. Aunt Fiona is helping me enroll in college for the fall.”

Colleen's brows rose. “I had no idea you wanted to go to college.” A slow smile bloomed along with the familiar glint of mischief in her eyes. “Daddy must be spinning now that both of us have severed ties with our potential husbands.”

Brianna's own lips twitched in response. “He must at that. Right now the only puppet still dancing to his tune is Gil.”

On Friday evening, Gil held open the front door of the Belvedere estate for Aurora to pass through, then followed her in. Nerves churned in his stomach. He'd taken Aurora to one of Long Island's best restaurants, and although he'd planned to propose, he couldn't seem to force the words from his mouth. Thank goodness she had no idea what he'd intended. Instead, they'd passed a pleasant enough evening, finishing with a stroll around the grounds of Belvedere. Gil wondered if Mrs. O'Leary had ever had the chance to walk among those amazing gardens. If she did, she would surely envy Mrs. Hastings her abundance of multi-hued rose hybrids.

“Thank you, Gil, for a wonderful evening.” Aurora's voice brought Gil back to his surroundings. She paused at the marble entry table to remove her hat and gloves and patted her blond curls into place.

“You're welcome. I enjoyed myself very much.”

Her hand fluttered to the neckline of her gauzy dress, as though she were nervous. It hit him then. She was probably anticipating a good-night kiss.

How could he ask for her hand in marriage when he hadn't even kissed her yet? The Independence Day party was the next day, and James expected Arthur to announce Gil and Aurora's betrothal.

“Would you care to come in for a while?” She gave him a shy smile, twisting her hands together in front of her.

“Actually, I do need to speak with your father if he's still up.”

A look of disappointment swept Aurora's lovely features before she schooled her expression. “Would you like me to check? He's probably in his study.”

Gil took a tentative step toward her. “In a moment.” He
reached out to take one of her hands in his, noting the pulse jumping at her wrist. “First, I'll say good night in case you've gone up by the time we finish.”

Very slowly, he lowered his head toward her upturned face. He kept the kiss brief, a perfectly acceptable chaste first kiss. She blushed when he pulled back.

“Good night, Aurora. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Gil.” She ducked her head. “I'll get Papa for you.” A moment later, she slipped down the hall.

Gil let out a long breath and squeezed his eyes shut. What manner of fraud was he? That kiss only confirmed how off base this romance was. He felt nothing more than a brotherly affection for Aurora. How could he let her believe he loved her? That he wanted to marry her?

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw.

“Gilbert.” Arthur Hastings's booming voice echoed in the marble foyer. “Aurora said you wished to see me.”

Gil snapped to attention and pasted a smile on his face. “Mr. Hastings. I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour.”

“Not at all, my boy. Come and join me for a nightcap.”

Gil followed Arthur down the corridor into the man's private den. A fire crackled in the hearth, giving the room a warm glow.

“Have a seat.” Arthur motioned to a wing chair across from his desk.

When Gil had complied, Arthur pulled a flask from one of his drawers and uncapped it. Then he produced two crystal glasses and poured a finger of brown liquor into each.

“Here you go, Gilbert. A little brandy at bedtime keeps a body healthy.” He chuckled as he pushed one glass toward Gil.

With some hesitation, Gil wrapped his fingers around the glass and waited until Arthur lifted his vessel in a salute. “To your health.” Arthur tossed back the liquid with one smooth motion.

Not accustomed to liquor, Gil didn't dare follow. Instead he
took a quick sip, grimacing at the burn as it seared his throat. He counted himself fortunate he didn't choke. The strong smell evoked painful memories of his father, slumped in his wheelchair, an empty bottle at his feet. Gil shook his head to clear the image, and as the warming effect of the drink spread through his limbs, he hoped it would help ease his nerves at the question he needed to ask this man.

Arthur uncapped the flask a second time to pour himself a refill. “Now, what can I do for you, young man? I hope this isn't a business matter that's been weighing on your mind all evening.”

“No, sir. Actually it's a personal matter.”

Arthur's hand stilled. “Is everything all right between you and Aurora?”

The man apparently had no clue what Gil intended. He swallowed his nerves. “Everything is going well, sir. That's why I wanted to speak to you.” He took another sip of courage from his glass and set the empty container on the desk. “I wish to ask permission for your daughter's hand in marriage.”

Arthur's mouth fell open for a brief moment, followed almost immediately by a broad smile. “You're serious?”

Gil pictured James's desperate expression when he last saw him. “Very serious.” He swallowed. “I know I don't have a lot to offer . . .”

Mr. Hastings waved a hand in the air. “There are more important things than money, my boy. I place a far higher value on a man's integrity and his work ethic. You have both of these admirable qualities. After watching you at the bank, I have no doubt that your ambition and intelligence will carry you far.” The older man stood and came around from behind the desk. “Even more important is the respect you show my daughter. I'd be honored to have you as a son-in-law.” He beamed, pumping Gil's hand in an energetic handshake. “I've been hoping for this, but I never dreamed it would happen so quickly.”

Gil's conscience pricked at him like the small hairs on the back
of his neck. “Thank you, sir. That is indeed a compliment.” The image of his own father came to mind once more. Before the accident that left John Whelan crippled, his father had oozed integrity. What would he think of his son now?

Arthur's face brightened. He slapped a hand to the desktop. “We can make the announcement at the party tomorrow. The timing will be perfect with all my friends and associates in attendance.”

“That sounds fine.” James's plan was coming together just as he'd hoped. Gil swiped a hand across his mouth to remove the stickiness of the brandy. “I'll . . . I'll propose to Aurora tomorrow, before the party begins.”

“I'm sure we don't need to speculate about her answer.” He winked at Gil. “She's made her feelings fairly obvious.”

Gil strained his mouth into a smile. “That she has.” He moved toward the door, suddenly desperate to be out of this house, away from his lies. “Thank you for everything, sir. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Seconds later, Gil left the mansion, but no matter how fast he walked down the long country lane, he couldn't outdistance his conscience.

His lies followed him home.

C
OLLEEN
PRIMPED
IN
FRONT
of her mirror one last time in preparation for the Hastings family's Independence Day party. It had been some time since she'd gotten so dressed up, and she had to admit she missed it—a little. She smiled at her reflection, satisfied with the way her violet dress made her eyes appear almost purple. The bodice of the gown was tight enough to be attractive without being too revealing. That one detail alone proved how much Colleen had changed. Normally her chief concern had been to appear as seductive as possible in order to attract the richest, most handsome bachelors. Now she wished only to make her parents proud.

Her hand stilled on the lace collar. Not entirely true. She wanted to make Rylan proud, as well.

Her heart fluttered against the casing of her corset. What would Rylan be wearing tonight? Part of her hoped to see him clad in an expensive suit, while the other more practical part wished he'd wear his clergy clothing, so that she, as well as all
the other eligible young ladies, would know he was off limits. She needed that very physical reminder to keep her treacherous heart from feeling things it shouldn't.

Colleen grabbed her wrap and floated down the main staircase, discounting her nerves as normal for such a grand occasion.

The hallway below sat shrouded in shadows with no evidence of her parents. Perhaps they were waiting for her in the parlor. Her feet made no noise as she tripped across the entryway to the parlor door. Inside, a lone male figure stood with his back to her, studying the gardens through the French doors.

Colleen hesitated in the doorway, her usual confidence eluding her. She didn't know how to behave around Rylan Montgomery, charming rogue and pious clergyman all rolled into one. She was about to sneak away when he turned, and his penetrating gaze met hers.

Dressed in a dark tuxedo—one she recognized as belonging to Adam—Rylan was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. A crisp white shirt and black bow tie set off his firm jaw and fascinating cleft chin.

Her mouth went dry, and try as she might, she could not get out a single word.

“You are absolutely beautiful.” His reverent whisper made the fine hairs on her neck rise.

“Th—thank you.” She couldn't seem to tear her eyes from the burning intensity of his.

He took a few steps forward. “Your parents went on ahead. They asked me to accompany you over to Belvedere.”

That showed how much Daddy trusted Rylan. But did she trust herself?

“Well,” she said brightly, “I suppose we should be off, then.”

“I suppose so.” He offered her his arm.

After a slight hesitation, she placed her hand on his arm and tried hard to ignore the furious sprint of her pulse. Her breath came in shallow pants, as though the oxygen had thinned out
of the room. Beneath the voluminous skirt of her dress, her knees shook.

God help her, she was falling in love with a priest.

Gil had spent most of the evening plotting ways he could escape before his betrothal became public knowledge. None of his imaginings, however, proved the least bit plausible. Now, as the minutes ticked by and Mr. Hastings's announcement loomed before him, Gil suffered a severe attack of nausea. In desperate need of some fresh air, he moved toward the balcony doors. He'd taken several strides when he spied James heading his way.

“There you are, Gilbert. I haven't had a chance to speak to you all night.” James hooked his thumbs in his vest pockets.

Gil managed a feeble smile. “I've been busy meeting an endless stream of people. This is quite the party.”

They stepped together onto the stone balcony. Thankful for the cool evening breeze, Gil inhaled deeply as he looked out over the darkened gardens embellished with dozens of candles and a lit fountain at the center.

“Is everything in place that we talked about?” James's urgent question jarred Gil's brief moment of tranquility.

Gil nodded. “Our betrothal will be announced right before the fireworks display.”

The tension seemed to drain from James's stiff frame. “I knew I could count on you, Gilbert. I want you to know your loyalty means the world to me, and I will find a way to repay you.”

“No need, sir. Consider this my thanks for everything you've done for me.”

This man had been his surrogate father through Gil's most formative years. He deserved Gil's respect and allegiance. Would a son do any less for a father?

“I'm very proud of you, son.” James's gruff voice hinted that he was experiencing the same swirl of emotion as Gil.

Gil closed his eyes and pictured Irish Meadows in all its glory—the magnificence of the sun shining over the meadows, the beauty of the horses thundering around the track. He needed to remind himself just what was at stake here. If he could help the O'Learys keep their beloved home, as well as the source of their livelihood, then he would do whatever was necessary—no matter the sacrifice.

James cleared his throat. “Looks like Arthur is gathering the guests. We'd best go inside.”

Gil almost wished he had some of that brandy right now to dull his senses for the upcoming speech. Aurora materialized out of the crowd like a ray of sunshine in her bright yellow gown. His thoughts went back to earlier in the day when he'd fumbled through the worst marriage proposal ever. Aurora hadn't seemed to notice. She'd thrown herself into his arms with happy tears. And she'd been smiling ever since.

Guilt squeezed Gil's insides, creating spasms in his stomach. If only he could forget about Brianna, perhaps he'd have a chance at a happy life with Aurora.

He wanted to pray for help, for deliverance from this path he'd chosen, but his conscience wouldn't let him. He didn't deserve God's help. Not when Gil was about to perpetrate such a terrible deception.

With quiet dignity, Aurora led him to stand beside her father as he gave a rousing speech to his guests. Finally, when Gil feared his legs wouldn't hold him a moment longer, Mr. Hastings announced the betrothal of his daughter to Mr. Gilbert Whelan.

Gil pasted on a smile so brittle he thought his cheeks would crack as he shook his future father-in-law's hand and then bent to kiss Aurora's cheek amid the polite applause of the audience. His gaze swung out over the sea of people who blended together in one massive blur, landing first on James's beaming features, then moving on to Mrs. O'Leary. In direct contrast to her husband's jubilation, stark sorrow shone from her eyes.

Eyes so similar to Brianna's that Gil's insides froze.

Perspiration beaded on his forehead as the nausea intensified. With a quick apology to Aurora, Gil turned and dashed out the patio doors. He raced down the balcony stairs and fell to his knees in the grass, where moments later his stomach heaved. His own body could not tolerate his treachery.

“Forgive me, Bree,” he whispered, but his only answer was the wind singing its disapproval through the trees.

“May I have this dance, Miss O'Leary?”

Lost in thought after Mr. Hastings's unexpected announcement, Colleen barely noticed the gentleman in front of her. She blinked as she took in the handsome face before her. She hadn't danced much all evening, being very picky about whom she accepted as a partner. Finding herself with no excuse at hand, she nodded. “Very well, Mister . . . ?”

“I'm sorry. I assumed you knew me. The name is Charles Sutton. Our fathers are business acquaintances.” He gave a low bow, then reached for her hand.

They slipped into the mix of couples already gliding to the music. At one time, Colleen would have been thrilled to be remembered by the son of one of Daddy's wealthy associates, but tonight all she could think about was Rylan.

Colleen forced her lips into a smile, wishing Rylan would ask her to dance. He hadn't graced the floor with anyone other than her mother and some of the older ladies, seeming to purposely avoid the younger girls so as not to encourage any wrong notions. Colleen scanned the crowd as they twirled, hoping for a friendly face, but not many girls her age wanted to befriend her, fearing she would attempt to steal their suitors.

A small sigh escaped her. Even Brianna's presence would be welcome right now.

Brianna
. A pang hit Colleen as she imagined the devastation
this betrothal would wreak on her sister. Colleen wanted to ask Bree why she and Gil had never pursued a relationship. Had her father forbidden it?

A wandering hand at Colleen's lower back brought her attention crashing back to her dance partner. She frowned into his bland face, which revealed nothing save for a heated gleam in his eyes. Annoyance flickered through her as she shifted in his grip, trying to make him move his hand, but it only inched farther down. They had come to a near standstill in the far corner of the dance floor, and she realized he'd maneuvered her there on purpose.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” she said through her teeth, “but you had best move your hand to a more suitable location unless you wish to lose your fingers.”

A scowl brought Mr. Sutton's fair eyebrows together. “There's no need to pretend innocence with me, Miss O'Leary. I'm well aware of your reputation among my peers.”

Shock had Colleen's mouth agape. Her footsteps faltered, and she would have stumbled if a hand hadn't gripped her elbow from behind.

“I believe you owe Miss O'Leary an apology.”

The steely voice of Rylan behind her sent a wave of relief surging through her. She stepped closer to Rylan, and his arm came around her like shelter from a storm.

Mr. Sutton stared at Rylan, and his face contorted into an ugly sneer. “It's obvious, sir, that you don't know Miss O'Leary very well at all.”

Rylan glared at the man who had been groping Colleen. In an attempt to control his temper, Rylan flexed his fingers, trying not to imagine punching the man's pasty face.

“I know her far better than you ever will. Now if you'll excuse us . . .” He gathered Colleen to him and spun her away from the louse's leer.