The Irish Heiress by Kaitlin O'Riley

Author:Kaitlin O'Riley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zebra Books
Published: 2019-05-28T16:00:00+00:00

14

Impressions

On a chilly October evening, once darkness had fallen, Mara quietly made her way to Foster Sheridan’s townhouse, which was becoming something of a familiar routine for her by now. She knew exactly where to go and what to do. The intrigue of it all was rather exciting. They could not meet too frequently and they had to be very discreet. The consequences of being caught were too terrible to contemplate, but not enough to dissuade her from coming to him this way.

She and Foster chose their nights together with the utmost care, and Mara went to great lengths to ensure they were evenings when Aunt Colette and Uncle Lucien had plans to go out and she would not be missed. Only Brighton, her lady’s maid, knew exactly where Mara was going, but she was devoted to Mara and would never divulge her secret. If her family inquired, Brighton was instructed to tell anyone that Mara was merely under the weather and staying in her room. Mara could be sleeping, or suffering a headache, or any other vague malady that would cause her family no undue worry and allow them to leave her in peace. So far, Mara was certain no one at Devon House suspected anything unusual in her behavior.

When Mara was coming for the night, Foster dismissed all his servants except his butler, Preston, and even he was out of sight for the evening. It had been almost a week since they had last seen each other and Mara missed him terribly. As she tiptoed along the back path and quietly let herself in through the kitchen door, her heart beat with excitement. Once inside, she flung back the hood of the dark blue cloak that kept her face hidden. She unfastened the clasp at the throat and removed the cloak, tossing it carelessly over the back of a kitchen chair.

With quick footsteps she made her way through the quiet and dimly lit house, anxious not to waste a precious moment of their time together. She practically flew up the staircase to Foster’s bedroom.

He was waiting for her.

Foster stood before the fire, wearing only black trousers and a white shirt, which was open at the neck and the sleeves rolled up nearly to his elbow. His brown hair was combed back from his clean-shaven face, and he had no shoes on his feet. There was something incredibly intimate about seeing a man dressed so casually.

A grin lit his handsome face when he saw her.

They ran into each other’s arms, their mouths meeting in a passionate and hungry kiss. Mara’s heart immediately felt at peace. All the pangs of guilt she suffered during the week when she thought about what they were doing dissipated as soon as she was with him again.

“You’re early,” he whispered, his hands carefully undoing the pins in her hair, allowing it to spill around them in silvery blond waves.

“I’m afraid I’m always early.”

“I love that about you. And it means we have more time together.

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