CHAPTER TEN
“Lady Weston is waiting for you in the front parlor, Miss Miller.”
Mara handed her cloak over to the Rockford butler. “Thank you, Harding.” With a deep breath, she walked down the hall to the appointed room.
How fortunate it was that Lyra should arrive when she had pertinent information in her pocket for Roarke to review with Mr. Andrews. She certainly shouldn’t feel such a sharp pang of disappointment that she wouldn’t be sharing it with him in person.
It was better this way.
But the moment Mara walked over the threshold and spied Lyra holding a cup and looking down at it as if it held all the secrets to the universe, Mara knew she had worse things to worry about than the viscount, or even Big B’s disappearance.
“I suppose this means Lady Eversleigh has returned.”
Roarke’s sister glanced up and instantly set aside her untouched tea. The bruise on her face had lightened to a yellowish tinge, although the black, widow’s weeds she wore seemed to heighten the strange hue. “I’m afraid so.”
Mara clasped her hands before her, doing her best to remain composed. “Does she know about my resurgence yet?”
“I would imagine by now she has, although I didn’t stay long enough after her arrival to be sure. The moment her carriage appeared, I slipped out the back door to come here and warn you.” Lyra’s mouth turned down at the corners as she grimaced. “And perhaps to hide out myself.”
Mara nodded her head, for there was nothing she could say or do to make this situation any better.
For either of them.
Athena entered the room at that moment and greeted the countess with a warm smile. “Lyra! Harding told me you had arrived.” She paused briefly to take in their somber faces. “Dear God, what’s happened now?”
Lyra’s smile was forced when she said, “My mother has returned from the country.”
“Oh, I see,” Athena frowned. “That does put a coil on the day, does it not?” With a sigh, she sat down on the seat across from Lyra. Mara had yet to move from the doorway. “Have I already missed her?”
“Not yet,” Mara said numbly. “Though I suspect it won’t be long before she puts in an appearance.”
The morning Mara had moved in with Lord and Lady Rockford, she had confessed all to Athena, or at least, what Roarke hadn’t already revealed. She admitted to faking her death and starting a new life under an assumed name in London, ending with how she had met Bentley. The countess had been completely open-minded about the entire scenario, even if she didn’t know the full details behind it. She seemed to understand Mara’s desire that some secrets of the past needed to stay buried and it wasn’t her place to pry. Needless to say, it had been a rather humbling experience for Mara and had only strengthened her friendship with Athena. She knew now that the countess, and even her husband, Rion, would do what they could to help her.
But when it came to Roarke’s mother, Mara wasn’t sure anyone could hurdle that bridge.
“Why is everyone so glum?” Lord Rockford’s deep voice was slightly dry as he walked in, crossing the room to give his wife a loving kiss on the cheek.
Mara looked away as he did so, as she always did when they displayed affection, for while it wasn’t overtly done it merely reminded her of what she could never have with Roarke.
As Athena explained the latest developments to her husband and conversed quietly with Lyra, Mara took the opportunity to slip away from the group. She wandered over to the window to peer out at the traffic beyond the glass pane. Part of her wanted to join the bustling activity, to dissolve into the crowd, never to be heard from again, but she knew she couldn’t very well leave Bentley. But wouldn’t it be wonderful to stop running? To feel as if she actually belonged somewhere?
Ever since she was a child, she’d never had anywhere to truly call home.While Mara loved her father dearly, he had been restless after her mother passed. At just seven years old, Mara was drug from place to place while Jack Miller tried to settle down again. When they finally landed at Eversleigh Hall, he had seemed content until his death shortly thereafter, but living the life of a ladies’ maid, in continual subjugation to another, wasn’t what Mara had in mind for her life. Granted, she had been treated fairly, had a roof over her head, and held a respectable situation with a woman who would end up being a lifelong friend, but it wasn’t until she met Roarke that her entire existence took on a new light.
She finally knew the meaning of the word hope.
But just like when that illusion was shattered all those years ago, Mara was still struggling to find somewhere to fit in. She’d done her best to make a happy life with Bentley, but a roommate, however dear to her heart he was, wasn’t the same as a husband and children.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Mara turned at the sound of Lyra’s voice.
“Or perhaps I already know the general direction of them,” the countess added with a sympathetic smile.
Mara couldn’t say anything that wouldn’t be hypocritical, so she merely avoided the subject and gestured to the empty room beyond. “What happened to Rion and Athena?”
“I asked for a moment alone to speak with you.” Lyra bit her lip, obviously anxious to say what was on her mind. Taking Mara’s hands in her own, she said, “You are the dearest friend I’ve ever had. Now that Mother is back, I certainly don’t wish to remain at Eversleigh House.” Her gaze dropped. “But I also don’t want to go back to Weston House alone. I’m not sure I could face…”
“You want me to come with you,” Mara finished for her.
