Free To Tempt an Irish Rogue by Kaitlin O'Riley

blending into each other in a continuous swirl, over and over. Pink, red, pink.
    She liked patterns and colors. Bright colors. Like the colors in the new books Papa brought her. The stories were not what interested her, even though she listened politely when Papa read to her, like a good girl should. She just loved sitting beside him, listening to the soothing sound of his voice and looking at the pretty pictures.
    She wished he would come home already.
    “Well, Lady Mara, why don’t you come over here and have your supper? There’s chicken and the potatoes that you like.”
    Mara looked up at the sound of Mrs. Martin’s voice. She was comfortable sitting on the window seat and not hungry in the least. But she swung her little legs over the edge of the cushioned seat and jumped to the floor. The carpet under her booted feet had a pattern of ivy and green vines interlaced with colorful flowers and Mara made sure she only stepped on the large blue flowers. That was the rule.
    She made her way across the length of the nursery, taking care only to put her feet on the designated blossoms.
    “What are you doing there, sweetheart? Is it a game?” Mrs. Martin smiled, her grin warm and encouraging. “It looks quite fun.”
    Mara didn’t answer her nanny, but continued to the table set for the two of them. She climbed onto her chair and placed the heavy cloth napkin on her lap. Mrs. Martin sat across from her. After saying grace, the woman gave her a nod, and Mara picked up the silver fork and took a bite of her potatoes.
    She wished Papa would come home. He’d been gone longer than usual that day and that worried her. He always came to see her before supper and she didn’t like that he hadn’t done so tonight. That’s why she’d been sitting on the window seat, so she could watch out the window for him. But she grew bored of waiting and became entranced with the flower patterns on the cushion.
    “Do you like the chicken, Lady Mara? It’s my favorite. And the potatoes are tasty, aren’t they?”
    Mara took another bite by way of response. It wasn’t her favorite, but it was fine. She liked the potpies better. The kind with the crispy crust.
    “I’m glad you like your supper. Eat all your food so you grow up nice and healthy.”
    Mara wasn’t sure she wanted to grow up. Grown-ups did not seem as if they liked being grown-ups very much, from what she could tell. But she didn’t say that to Mrs. Martin. Of course, Mara didn’t say anything.
    Mrs. Martin was very kind to her and even though she’d only known her for a short time, Mara liked her well enough. In fact she liked her much more than her nurse back home in Ireland, who had always acted very cross. Her life in Ireland seemed very far away to her now. It was strange traveling all that way from her home in Dublin, across the sea on a ship, to London. Being on the ship was rather exciting and she wasn’t too afraid, as long as Papa held her tightly when they were on the deck.
    Where was Papa?
    Unable to eat another mouthful, no matter how much Mrs. Martin attempted to cajole her, Mara set down her fork and wiped her mouth with her napkin and placed it on the table beside her plate as she had been taught to do.
    “You certainly are a calm and obedient child, for all that you won’t speak a word,” Mrs. Martin remarked as she continued to eat her own supper. “I must say this is the easiest position I’ve ever had. For a four-year-old you don’t cause a speck of trouble, little Lady Mara. You may be excused.”
    Mara climbed down from her chair and stepped only on the blue flowers all the way back to the window seat. Once back in her perch, she crawled on her knees to the windowsill and peered out. It was growing dark and still no sign of Papa. Her heart thumped loudly in her little chest. Come home, Papa , the voice in her head repeated, Come home now .
    She pressed her face close to the windowpane and blew on the glass, her fingers making patterns in the