The Lost - J. D. Robb [138]
Wasn’t this what any sane person would want? Why, then, had her heart suddenly become as heavy as a boulder inside her chest?
Ross.
By rights, this should all be his. His estate. His fortune. His legacy. Without Ross, Cullen would have died that night on the streets of Dublin. Without Ross to carry on the search, Cullen never would have found his lost love, and the daughter he’d never known. Without Ross, Aidan wouldn’t be here, sampling a life so foreign to her, it was beyond her wildest imagination.
And now, instead of the reward Ross deserved for his years of love and loyalty, it could be all stripped away. If the DNA tests showed her to be Cullen’s granddaughter, Ross would forfeit any right to all of this.
The man she’d come to love would lose everything that was rightfully his, all because of her.
She stood so quickly, the tea sloshed over the rim of her cup, scalding her fingers. She took no notice as she hurried to the bedroom.
She knew in her heart of hearts what she had to do. And she must move quickly, before Cullen awoke and the courier arrived with information that could alter all their lives forever.
Ross looked up when Meath and Mayo barked. Seconds later a knock sounded on the cottage door. He silenced the dogs, then hurried over to find Bridget looking out of breath, her hair spilling out of its neat knot, her eyes wide and worried.
“Good morning, Bridget. What’s wrong?”
“Miss O’Mara said I was to give you this.” She handed him a folded note. “It must be important, for she said I was not to give it to you until after she was gone.”
“Gone? Gone where?”
The old woman shrugged. “She was calling for Sean to bring the car.”
“Car?” He looked thoroughly confused. “Whatever for?”
The old woman worried the edge of her apron, avoiding his eyes. “I believe she’s planning on leaving for the airport. I saw her suitcase packed.”
“Leaving? Now what’s this all about?” With a scowl, he started past her.
“Oh. When you see her, be sure to give her this.” Bridget reached into her pocket and withdrew a fat envelope. “The courier just delivered it as I was coming to find you.”
He stared at the envelope, then slapped it against his open palm before striding away.
The housekeeper watched him go.
As soon as he was out of sight, the frazzled look in her eyes was replaced with a wide, satisfied smile.
Pausing to scratch behind each hound’s ears, she said with a sigh, “You may as well come along, too, and watch the fireworks. However it all plays out, it should prove fascinating indeed, with Himself, as always, pulling all the strings.”
Without bothering to knock on the parlor door, Ross tore it open and strode across the room to the bedroom. Aidan’s suitcase was closed and lying on the bed. She was standing by the window, watching for the car.
He crossed the room to stand beside her, tossing her note on the cushion of the window seat. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She closed her eyes, cursing his timing. Another few minutes and she could have avoided this scene. “Just what it said in my note, Ross. I’m leaving.”
“I can read. You didn’t bother to tell me why.”
“I realized that I’ve been living in a dream world these past few days. This isn’t my birthright, Ross. I don’t belong here.”
“Isn’t that a decision you should be discussing with Cullen?”
“He’s blinded by the loss of his beloved Moira. He wants so badly to believe, that he’s lost all reality.”
“Oh, it’s reality you want?” He handed over the courier’s envelope. “Read this.”
“So soon? I was hoping . . .” She stared at it with a look of dread. “You haven’t read it?”
“It isn’t mine to read. It’s yours. Yours and Cullen’s. Go ahead, Aidan. Read it.”
Instead of opening it, she shocked him to the core by tearing it into tiny bits.
He hissed out a breath and tried to stop her. “Are you crazy?”
She pulled away, shredding the last of the documents. “I think I was, for a couple of days.”
“You’re not making any sense, Aidan.