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Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford

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Nick leaned over the table. ‘And what reason
did
he give?’

‘Ryan said he felt he wasn’t being fair to me, that he was wasting my time… because there was no future for us.’ Her face changed, became still and cold. ‘He pointed out that I was thirty, not getting any younger, that I ought to be thinking about getting married, having children. Therefore, since he could not marry me, he was giving me my freedom, a chance to make a good life for myself with someone else.’

Nick pursed his lips. ‘Did he say
could
not, or didn’t
want
, to marry you?’

‘Could not.’ Francesca blinked. ‘I asked him why. It was then that he started to hedge. I badgered him. Finally Ryan told me he was too young to saddle himself with a wife at this crucial period in his political career, that he had no time to devote to a wife, or to start a family right now. I said this was a silly attitude, and he retorted that he didn’t want those heavy responsibilities, could not cope with them. He then gave me a long speech about his political aspirations, explained that these came first, were his priorities. He did not neglect to point out that he was overburdened with work as a Congressman. You know what Ryan’s like, Nicky. So ambitious for himself.’

‘You mean his father’s ambitious for him,’ Nick cut in sharply. ‘The old man’s behind this, Frankie. He pulls the strings of the puppet.’

Shaking her head violently, Francesca disagreed. ‘No, no, you’re wrong. I don’t think Mr O’Rourke had anything to do with Ryan’s decision. I even asked him if his father objected.’

‘And?’

‘Ryan said not really. He remarked that his father rather
liked me.’ A rueful smile flicked into her amber-hazel eyes. ‘Ryan had to qualify this, of course, by saying that although his father detested the English, and especially the ruling class because of the things they’d done to Ireland, he nevertheless found me to be the exception to the rule.’

Nick snorted. ‘I don’t buy this story, Frankie. It’s goddamn phony. Ryan is twenty-nine, exactly the age when he should be marrying and starting a family. As for saying he’s too busy to devote himself to the domestic scene, that is absolute nonsense. For a junior Congressman he’s certainly got plenty of aides and sidekicks, more help than most Senators. Which brings me to another point. The O’Rourke money. They have millions, probably billions. A man of Ryan’s enormous wealth doesn’t have to cope with the normal hassle and responsibilities of a family. He can afford dozens of servants, nannies, what have you.’ Nick took a cigarette, went on. ‘You would be a tremendous asset to him in Washington, not to mention campaigning. And he’s bound to run for the Senate in a few years. That’s written in cement.’ Nick shook his head as vehemently as Francesca had. ‘No, none of this gels with me, Frankie. Poor reasons—all of them.’

‘Despite what
you
might think, Ryan doesn’t believe I’d be an asset to him,’ Francesca said softly. ‘Just the opposite in fact.’

‘What the hell do you mean?’ Nick cried, his blond brows lifting, his expression incredulous.

‘He listed all the things about me which he considers would be detrimental to him, to his career, and with his constituents.’ She lifted a hand, began ticking them off on her fingers. ‘I’m English. I’m the daughter of an earl. I have a title in my own right. I’m a career woman, dedicated to my writing. Obviously of no use as a political wife.’ She laughed coldly. ‘And get this, I’m a socialite. I’m just not acceptable, apparently, and then there’s the—’

‘You have got to be kidding!’ Nick exploded.

‘And then there’s the question of religion,’ she proceeded firmly. ‘That’s really at the root of it.’

Nick stared at her. ‘Religion?’ he echoed.

‘Yes. Ryan felt it necessary to remind me he is a Catholic, pointed out he could not risk offending other Catholics—presumably the voters—by marrying a non-Catholic. Especially one who would not convert, would not agree to raise his children in the faith, and one who was known to be prejudiced.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m not following you.’ Nick seemed genuinely puzzled.

‘Ryan thinks I’m anti-Catholic and that my family is anti-Catholic.’

Nick guffawed. ‘Come on, Frankie, you can’t be serious. No one is more tolerant than you.’ He peered at her and his scepticism changed to sudden comprehension. ‘This
is
his father talking!’

‘No, Nicky, it’s not Mr O’Rourke.’ Francesca bit her lip and her mouth began to tremble. ‘It’s Katharine talking, I’m afraid,’ she blurted out in an inaudible voice, and her eyes filled with tears for the first time.

Nick thought he had misheard her for a second, and his forehead puckered. ‘Are you implying that Ryan puts the blame on Katharine for his decision? That he attributes this religious stuff to his
sister
? I can’t believe it! I really can’t!’

‘You had better believe it, Nick, because it’s the truth.’ There was a moment’s hesitation before she said carefully, ‘Look, I was nervous about telling you because I knew you’d be upset with Katharine. But you really should know.’ Her look was direct and unwavering. ‘When Ryan made those statements about me, my religious persuasions, and my family, I was dumbfounded. They’re simply not true and he knows it. Last year, when we contemplated getting married, we discussed these things in depth. At that time I told him I was willing to convert, go along with anything he wanted. Naturally he had to admit he remembered our
talk, but he muttered something about doubting the veracity of my words, my promises. He was reluctant to continue the conversation, tried to leave. I wouldn’t let him. I begged him to be honest, to tell me why he’d had a change of heart. He explained, rather nervously, that he’d been terribly worried about us and the religious aspects, and had gone seeking advice from Katharine. I couldn’t believe my ears when he said she had told him not to marry me, had warned him he was asking for trouble if he did.’

Nick’s jaw dropped and he could only gape at Francesca. He was speechless. At last he said, ‘This is
incredible
. Ridiculous. I think—’

‘You can think what you like, Nicky, but Ryan convinced
me
,’ Francesca interjected fiercely. ‘There’s more. Apparently Katherine informed Ryan she broke up with Kim because of religious differences. And I gathered it was
she
who planted the idea that the Cunninghams are anti-Catholic. Both of her statements are without foundation. She broke up with Kim because of her career. And none of us is bigoted, or
anti
anything.’ Nick was about to interrupt, but Francesca waved her hand at him. ‘No, just a minute, let me finish. I started to quiz Ryan harder, and he murmured something about Katharine suggesting the marriage would never work, that I would make him miserable. She also reminded him that once he married me he was stuck with me, since he could never get a divorce. In a nutshell, she was saying: Don’t do it, little brother, quote unquote.’ Francesca sat back, flushed and angry, regarding Nick closely.

This all sounded preposterous to Nick, and he spluttered, ‘Now, Frankie, listen to
me
. Ryan’s a weak sister, I’ve always told you that. He’s making Katharine the scapegoat, because he doesn’t have the guts to accept the burden of his own decision. You know Kath—and intimately. She’s not especially religious; furthermore, she’s been divorced.’

‘You’re giving me the arguments I gave Ryan. His answer was simple. Katharine is a lapsed Catholic and has been for years.
He
is not.
He
is very devout. He also seems to think Katharine regrets her divorce, regrets leaving the Church, and wants to be taken back into the faith.’

‘That’s a lot of poppycock, wishful thinking on Ryan’s part!’ Nick cried.

‘In my opinion, he might be right.’ Francesca fidgeted with the lid of the cigarette box, and ventured, ‘Don’t you think Ryan was telling me the truth then?’

‘No, I don’t.’ Although this was said with firmness, Nick suddenly wondered if Katharine
was
innocent. Or had she been busy at her mischievous work again? The idea appalled him. He rubbed his hand over his chin, his suspicions growing. He glanced at Francesca, saw she was hunched over and instantly joined her on the sofa.

Nick put his arms around her. ‘Darling, don’t cry. He’s not worth it.’

‘My tears are not solely because of Ryan,’ Francesca gasped. ‘I’m also crying about Katharine. How could she do such a thing, Nicky? Be so disloyal. Betray me in such a way? I’m her dearest friend, and have been for ten years. We’ve never had a cross word, well, hardly ever, and I’ve been devoted to her.’

‘I know you have.’ Until now Nick had always believed Frankie was safe from Katharine and her meddling. There had been times when Katharine had attempted to manipulate her friend and run her life, but Francesca had never permitted it. Had Katharine finally succeeded?

Nick said gently, ‘Perhaps it’s not quite the way it seems, perhaps Katharine was merely pointing out certain drawbacks to Ryan, playing devil’s advocate, in a sense.
He
may have repeated things to you in such a way that he shifted the blame, whether intentionally or not.’

Francesca nodded, groped in her bag for a handkerchief. She dried her eyes. ‘Sorry, Nick darling, I didn’t mean to break down. I know you have no answers for me, just as I have no answers for myself. If she were here I would tackle
her, have it out with her. But since she’s in the Far East there’s nothing I can do.’

‘No, there isn’t, not until she gets back,’ Nick agreed, trying to still his rage with Katharine. He took hold of Francesca’s hand. ‘What about Ryan? How do you feel about him, darling?’

‘I love him,’ she whispered. ‘You don’t stop loving someone overnight. But I imagine I am in a state of shock. Not only because he dumped me, and rather unceremoniously, but by the abruptness of his action. And also because he took Katharine’s word for gospel, made up his mind without talking it out with me first. And as for his sister, well, she’s overstepped the mark this time.’

Francesca saw the denial in Nick’s eyes, knew he was about to defend Katharine, and she continued rapidly, ‘Look, even if I do give her the benefit of the doubt, accept that she only meant well, she should not have stuck her nose into my business. It was not her right to do so, brother or no brother. I don’t like it, and I won’t tolerate it, Nicky.’

He nodded, recognizing that she was right and that she meant every word. He could not help thinking Katharine had met her match, had made the biggest mistake in her life by interfering in Francesca’s life. He continued to ponder for a moment, then said in the kindest and most loving tone, ‘I’m not being cruel or unsympathetic, Frankie, but I must ask you something.’ He paused, then said slowly, ‘How deeply are you affected? I mean, are your present emotions about Ryan genuine? Is your hurt based on real love for him, or are you reacting in this way because he rejected you?’

Francesca thought for a long moment. ‘My feelings are genuine, Nicky. I was very involved with Ryan, and on many levels.’ She bit her lip. ‘I do think I’m very confused though. That’s why I’m going away.’

‘Where are you going? When?’ he demanded.

‘To Paris. Tomorrow night. I have a reservation on the last Air France flight, leaving around eight o’clock. I’ll be in Paris
for a couple of days, and then I’m taking the Blue Train to Monte Carlo, where I’ll stay at Doris’s new villa. I promised Daddy and Doris I’d join them in late July or early August. I decided I might as well go a little earlier. I’m not running away, Nicky, but I’ve nothing to stay in New York for now, so I might as well have a pleasant and peaceful summer. I’m planning to be away about two months. It’ll be lovely to see them all, I’ve missed my family. And I want to be in their midst, to have the comfort of them. It will also give me time to think, clear my head, decide what I’m going to do next.’

‘And Ryan? And the future? Once this muddle is straightened out with Katharine, would you consider a reconciliation?’

‘Oh no, Nicky! It’s over. How can it not be?’ she cried, aghast at his last question. ‘He doesn’t want the relationship, and even if he changed his mind, I couldn’t possibly consider it now. No, I’ve made my decision and it’s final. Maybe you were always right about Ryan—about him being weak and ineffectual.’

‘Yes,’ Nick said laconically. He drank his wine, eventually remarked, ‘He certainly didn’t handle the situation very nicely—’

‘Oh, but he did, Nick,’ Francesca interjected, wanting to be fair. ‘Please don’t get the wrong idea. I have a feeling I’ve recounted our emotional little scene of last night rather poorly. Ryan
was
sweet, concerned for me, and he
was
reluctant to spell things out, to involve Katharine. Truly, I did force the issue, did have to drag every word out of him.’ She studied Nick, then concluded, ‘Well, he’s awfully young in some ways.’

‘The understatement of the year, kid,’ Nick said more snappishly than he had intended.

Francesca leaned her blonde head against the sofa; the smile she gave Nick was grave and there was a sudden wisdom in her lovely eyes. ‘Years ago, in the old nursery at Langley, you told me we all recover from our romantic
tragedies. I did get over Vic. And I expect I will also get over Ryan.’

‘Yes, I’m sure you will, darling,’ Nick assented, thinking this time it would not take her quite so long to recover. His intuition told him Francesca had never loved Ryan O’Rourke as deeply and as passionately as she had loved Victor Mason.

***

He took her to La Grenouille for lunch. Nick had chosen this restaurant because it had always been one of their favourite haunts, and they had enjoyed some happy times there in the past. It was elegant, the ambience was gay and the food perfection. But now, as they sat next to each other on the banquette, he felt as if he was attending a wake. Admittedly the restaurant was as festive as always, but Francesca was more pensive and quiet than ever and her dismal mood had intensified. His heart went out to her. Nick was not unsympathetic to her suffering, yet he did not know how to alleviate it. To tell her she was better off without Ryan would only be gratuitous and unkind. He wished he could cheer her up, help to dispel her sadness.

BOOK: Voice of the Heart
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