Laws in Conflict by Cora Harrison Read Free Book Online Page A

and my sisters like little mothers to him.’
    ‘Some people have to accept second best if they don’t have the means to achieve perfection,’ observed her husband drily, but his words were almost drowned out by Walter who was exuberantly welcoming his new friends to his uncle’s house.
    ‘How do you like the way that I have placed the mirrors, Mistress Mara?’ asked Valentine eagerly, ignoring the dour expression on his brother-in-law’s face.
    ‘I like the effect,’ said Mara. ‘They bring so much extra light indoors.’ What an unpleasant, carping individual was this James Lynch, she thought. Or was he perhaps jealous of the display of wealth here in this wonderful castle. She looked around with a smile of admiration.
    Here and there mirrors with gilded frames were placed on the walls, tilted at an angle so that they reflected the green of the marble. Heavy oak court cupboards, dark with polish, were placed against the white walls, but the room was dominated by that magnificent floor – almost as though the ocean was brought indoors. Mara gazed into one of the mirrors and was confronted by the thin face of the mayor of Galway, standing just behind her, and bearing an expression of contemptuous disdain. His own house, she reflected, as she met his eyes, was probably not as beautiful as this.
    ‘Up here,’ said Valentine, smiling happily and indicating a short, wide flight of stairs at the back of the large entrance hall which led up to a tall, mullioned window overlooking the broad river that entered the sea at Galway. A cushion-strewn bench stood in front of the window and the staircase itself then branched off in two different directions. Still keeping her arm tucked into Mara’s, Margaret Lynch led her up the stairs and steered her in through a door on the right-hand side.
    ‘Come on, boys, and girl, of course.’ Valentine, already inside the room, bestowed a warm smile of admiration on Fiona who responded with an amused grin.
    ‘Where’s your ship moored, Mr Blake?’ Shane was asking, but Mara didn’t hear the answer. Her eyes widened at the sight of the lovely room ahead of her. Once again the floor was of the cream-flecked grey-green marble, but here it was dotted with colourful woven rugs in rich shades of raspberry-red and sea-blue. The walls of the long room were panelled in golden wood that smelled of lavender polish. Small, precious tapestries hung on the walls, and sconces of sweet-smelling beeswax candles were placed in front of more gilt-framed mirrors.
    In one corner of the room a group of prettily dressed girls, in stiff brocaded dresses, and with matching hoods set on top of their long hair, hung over a harpsichord, where a slightly older girl was lightly touching the keys and singing a low, plaintive melody.
    ‘This is my wife Cecily,’ said Valentine as the girl at the harpsichord stood up and came towards them. ‘And these are my daughters, Anne, Elizabeth and Catherine.’
    Cecily murmured a greeting to Mara. She looked hardly older than her three stepdaughters and seemed happy to rejoin them while Valentine took Mara on a tour of his magnificent room.
    He was entertaining company, she thought. He had a story to tell of each item that he had collected. She listened, but she was more interested in James Lynch, the mayor. From time to time she glanced over at him, but there was little other than a faint shade of boredom to be read from his face. Margaret, on the other hand, seemed to be fond and proud of her brother, hanging on his arm and prompting him to tell stories about the Turkish boat which had sold him his rugs and the Spanish town where he had found an exquisite tapestry of a unicorn.
    ‘Once I saw it, I had to have it,’ said Valentine enthusiastically, gazing fondly at his treasure.
    ‘Didn’t bother asking the price, I suppose,’ put in James Lynch quietly, looking with disdain at his brother-in-law.
    ‘Who could bother about a price for a thing as beautiful as