Chapter Seven

 

Dublin

 

Blair entered his mother’s bedroom lit by a small gas lamp. He sat beside her bed and held her thin hand in his. “I’m here, Mamma.”

She didn’t stir.

Some hours later, while he remained at Maeve’s bedside stroking her feverish brow with a cold cloth, Blair forced himself to face the fact that he could lose her. Of course, he would sometime, but please God, not yet. Maeve had always been there, annoyingly opinionated at times, but always affectionate and full of life.

Blair yawned and went to open the curtains. It was dawn, the sky a soft gray-violet. He watched motionless, as it turned a pale, watery blue then returned to the bed and took up the cloth again, wringing it out in the basin.

A hand fluttered up to touch his. “Blair.”

With a sharp intake of breath, he looked up. Maeve’s eyes were open. She smiled. “Have I been very ill?”

“A touch of the influenza, Mamma. But you’re on the mend.”

“Have you have been here all night?”

“Yes.”

“Bless you. Go and get some rest son, now. Promise me?”

“After the doctor has called.”

“Talk to me, then.”

An hour passed. The maid brought tea and Maeve drank a little. When the doctor came, he declared his patient to be improving. He took Blair aside. “It was touch and go. She will be weakened by it.”

His mother weakened by anything was unthinkable. “I’ll take mother to Dunleavy House when she’s strong enough. The country air will be beneficial.”

“An excellent idea.”

Several days later, while Blair stalked the rooms like a caged animal, guiltily wishing to be gone, Cathleen O’Brien, the young lady his mother urged him to marry, called in to see how Maeve fared. She entered the sitting room with her arms full of pink and white roses. They matched the gown she wore and filled the room with a sweet fragrance.

“Pink is undeniably your color, Cathleen,” Blair said. “It’s good of you to come.”

“It’s good to see you back in Ireland. We don’t see nearly as much of you as we’d like.”

She handed the flowers to a maid. “How is the patient, Blair?”

“Anything but patient.” Blair signaled the girl to put the flowers in water. “If she continues to improve, I’m removing her to Dunleavy House in a few days.”

Cathleen arranged a Chantilly lace shawl over her pink gown. Artifice of any kind didn’t fit with the Cathleen he knew, but had she dressed carefully for his sake? Beyond the affection of a long-standing friend, she’d revealed little sign of having stronger feelings for him. As they chatted, Giovanna suddenly pushed her way into his thoughts. He frowned. What was he doing thinking of her when this undeniably lovely young woman smiled at him? It mystified him that the words he’d planned to say to her, which would set his plans in motion, refused to come to his lips.

“I’ll visit her when she is there.” Cathleen put down her cup. “And relate all the town gossip. It will entertain her.”

He smiled. “You are a good friend, Cathleen.”

Cathleen’s gray eyes met his with a frank expression. “Do you remember Charles Reilly? He has been calling lately.”

He waited for a pull of jealousy that would catapult him into action. It didn’t come. “We rubbed shoulders at Trinity College. I liked him.”

Cathleen fiddled with a pearl button on her glove. “He’s joined his father’s law firm here in Dublin. Has a very bright future it’s said.”

“I’m not surprised. You’ll stay for lunch?”

Cathleen’s gaze rested on him. Something unspoken passed between them. After a pause, she rose. “I won’t, thank you. I’d best return home before the weather changes. I came in the brougham and it looks like rain. Tell your mother I wish her a swift recovery and look forward to one of our chats very soon.”

He rose and kissed her cheek. “I will, Cathleen. I’ll see you to your carriage.”

Blair walked back to the house admitting his plans for his future were falling apart. He should have been dismayed, he’d just let a wonderful woman slip through his fingers. Would he kick himself when he heard the bans had been read for her nuptials to Charles Reilly?

All he could think of was his return to London, as soon as his mother was well enough to be left.