The Lost - J. D. Robb [121]
“I believe I’ll have the same.”
Charity glanced at Ross. “Mr. Delaney?”
“Nothing, thanks. I’ll just drink my coffee.”
Within minutes Aidan and Cullen were enjoying their meal, while Ross, as usual, watched and listened in silence.
When at last Aidan sat back, sipping a second cup of coffee, Cullen folded his napkin. “I didn’t want to push you last night, because I knew you had to be feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the stress of your flight, but I hope now that you’ve had a chance to rest, you’ll speak candidly about your grandmother and mother.”
“I’d be happy to. What would you like to know about them?”
“What was your grandmother’s life like in America?”
“As far as I can recall, she lived an ordinary life in Landsdown.” Aidan glanced over. “That’s a small town in upstate New York.”
“I know of it,” Cullen said simply.
“Of course. You researched it for those documents I was given.”
“They were carefully researched, not only by Ross and the American legal firm, but by me, as well.”
“Then you’ll understand my reluctance to give you any hope that we could be related. There is the matter of different names . . .”
She paused when Cullen lifted a hand. “We’ll get to that. Please, tell me about your grandmother’s life in America.”
Aidan took a breath. “She was married to my grandfather, Edward Martin, for more than forty years before he died after a long battle from a stroke. Most of my memories of him are in a wheelchair.”
“Was he a wealthy man?”
Aidan chose her words carefully. “He came from a wealthy family, and inherited great wealth through the family business. But he was careless in business and made some unwise investments, losing nearly everything. If it hadn’t been for my grandmother’s diligence, they would have been left with nothing.”
Cullen looked surprised. “Your grandmother became a businesswoman?”
“Out of necessity. She took over his company, paid off his debts, then took over the books and made enough money that they would be comfortable in their old age. Of course, my grandfather didn’t live to an old age.”
“What did she do after his death?” Cullen had gone very still, as had Ross.
“She talked endlessly about a trip to Ireland. It seemed to be her reason for living.”
Cullen sat a little straighter in his chair, his gaze fixed on Aidan’s face.
At his unspoken question she explained. “But then she fell ill, and a trip was out of the question. Within the year she was dead.”
He stared at his hands for long moments. At last he looked up. “And your mother? What of her life?”
Aidan smiled. “She married my father, John O’Mara, when she was twenty-n ine.”
Cullen arched a brow. “So old.”
That had Aidan chuckling. “I suppose it is, though I’m twenty-fi ve, and don’t feel like an old maid just yet.”
“I wasn’t implying . . .” He spread his hands. “Your grandmother was only seventeen.”
Aidan gave him a steady look. “I never mentioned her age. Was that in the documents you sent me?”
He shrugged. “No matter. Tell me about your mother.”
“She and Dad were married twenty years when he passed away. His illness ate up my mother’s savings, but we were still getting by, until she became ill.”
“I understand you quit your job to care for her.”
Aidan set aside her cup. When she looked up, her eyes were steady on his. “I went through all our savings. Sold my car, gave up my apartment and moved in with my mother. I’m not proud of the fact that I’m in debt, but I’m not ashamed of it, either. It is what it is, and I’ll figure out what to do next. But this much I do know. You desperately want to find your daughter, and I’m sorry that my mother can’t be the one you’re seeking. As I told you, her parents were Maureen and Edward Martin. I have a copy of their marriage license, and a copy of my mother’s birth certificate. Now, I hope this will put an end to your claim that we can somehow be related. Obviously, you can’t be the father of my mother, when that honor belonged to my grandfather, Edward Martin.”
When he started to speak, she shook her head. “Wait. Let me finish. This isn’t easy for me to say, but I