Page 14

G arahan was on his last patrol to the village for the day.

Given the late hour, it was not quite as busy when he rode up to the inn in the village.

One of the stable hands, Parks, looked up and watched him entering the innyard.

Was it Garahan’s imagination, or did Parks flinch?

He didn’t trust the man. Past experience taught him to trust his gut, and his gut wanted him to grab the man by his collar and shake him.

But as one of the duke’s guard, he did not have the luxury of giving in to every gut instinct when it involved a bit of violence.

Pity—he would have enjoyed watching the man’s face turn red and then apoplectic purple.

Ah well, a man cannot always have what he wants.

As he rode past Parks, one of the younger stable lads rushed toward Garahan. He reined in his horse and dismounted. “Whoa, lad, slow down.”

The boy looked over his shoulder and, seeing Parks, lost every ounce of color in his face. Moving farther away from Parks, he tugged on Flaherty’s hand. “You’ve got to save her, Garahan!”

Immediately alert, Garahan scanned the busy yard, but did not note anything out of the ordinary. “Who, lad?”

The boy leaned close and whispered, “Miss Mary Kate.”

Garahan’s gut clenched. Flaherty was going to marry the lass tomorrow. After all his cousin had suffered through, he would see to it that Flaherty married the woman who had stolen his heart. Urging the boy closer, he led his horse toward the trough and let him drink, then asked, “What do you know?”

“The farrier plans to take her away…tonight!”

“Where did ye hear this?”

“Half an hour ago. I was working in the tack room, sorting the reins—they don’t always get put away when we’re busy—and I overheard Parks and Monroe talking.”

When the boy paused, Garahan urged him, “Ye have no fear of reprisal. I’ll see to it that both men are dealt with swiftly and decisively. Ye’ll not come to harm.”

“I’m worried about Miss Mary Kate. She’s always been kind to me, when others haven’t been.”

“She’s a fine woman, lad. We can agree on that. Now tell me, did ye hear any specifics?”

The lad nodded. “Monroe has a place west of here. He…he plans to take her there tonight. I could tell by how they sounded that it didn’t matter if she wanted to go with him or not.”

“She won’t go willingly,” Garahan predicted. “She’s marrying me cousin Flaherty.”

“You won’t let any harm come to her?”

“Ye have me word.”

“You’ll rescue her, like you did that time in London?”

“Nay, lad. Flaherty will rescue her like he did when the duke’s carriage slid on ice and landed on its side.”

The boy’s mouth dropped open. “I forgot about that. Flaherty and O’Malley knew how to right the carriage. All of us working for the innkeeper were impressed.”

“Me brothers and me cousins are wise beyond their years.”

“Do you promise Flaherty will rescue her in time?”

“Ye have me word. ’Tisn’t wise to question a man’s word…’tis akin to questioning his honor, lad.”

“I didn’t mean to, but I’m worried. The farrier isn’t what he seems. He treats us one way in front of witnesses and cuffs us on the back of the head or across the face as soon as we’re alone with him in the stables.”

Garahan curled his free hand into a tight fist and slowly relaxed it. “I’ll see to it that he learns the error of his ways. He won’t be treating yerself and the other lads as if ye were chattel any longer.”

Wide gray eyes, filled with trust, met Garahan’s gaze. “You’d better hurry.”

Garahan snorted to cover his laughter at the lad’s cheeky demand.

He watched as the lad raced off to answer the hostler’s call and frowned.

No one had the right to treat those hardworking boys poorly.

He’d speak to the hostler and then the innkeeper.

If either of them knew what was happening and did nothing to stop it, he’d involve the viscount and the earl—even the duke if he had to!

His horse had finished drinking and turned its head as if to urge Garahan into action.

“Right ye are, laddie.” He swung into the saddle, and though the urge to gallop was great, he kept his horse to a fast walk until he reached the last building in the village.

He bent over his horse’s neck and called, “Ride like the wind, laddie!”

His horse reacted as if he scented a mare in heat, galloping toward Lippincott Manor.

*

Flaherty was patrolling the perimeter when Garahan rode at a breakneck pace toward the back of the building. He immediately gave the signal, a short, sharp whistle, that would alert the rest of the guard.

Sean bolted out of the rear entrance. “Is it the viscount?”

Dermott rounded the building from his station on the roof. “Is the viscountess in trouble again?”

Garahan locked gazes with Flaherty. “Monroe plans to kidnap Mary Kate—tonight!”

“And ye came here instead of going after the bleeding bugger to stop him?” Flaherty could not believe his cousin did not take immediate action on his own. “Why—”

“’Tis yer job to rescue yer bride-to-be. I know where he plans to take her.”

Every fiber of Flaherty’s being jolted as his brain shut off his emotions. The farrier would pay a steep price for taking Mary Kate! “Tell me when and where.”

Garahan’s eyes were dark with banked anger. “One of the stable lads at the inn has been watching Monroe for me.”

Flaherty was about to ask why, when it hit him that his cousin had been wise to do so. The farrier had made it well known that he had his eye on Mary Kate—though the blackguard didn’t start spouting off about it until after Flaherty and Mary Kate were officially courting.

Flaherty had been too blinded by jealousy at the time to think straight… Thank goodness Garahan had been able to. Neither of them had stopped the planned kidnapping—yet. Mary Kate could be harmed because of his lack of clear thinking! The very idea sliced him to the bone.

He had to clear his throat to speak past the lump of emotion constricting it. “Thank ye, James.”

“Ye’d have done the same for me. Monroe has had his mind set on Mary Kate from the beginning. I’m told he’s built a shelter to the west of the village. There’s a path leading to it. ’Tis in the thickest section of woods—too thick to navigate on horseback. Ye’ll have to dismount and lead yer horse.”

“I know the path well,” Flaherty said. “Though I haven’t followed it for more than half a mile.

’Tis the area to the east and south of the village where most of our troubles have come from in the form of sharpshooters and those sneaking in bent on launching an attack on us under the cover of darkness. ”

Dermott frowned. “We cannot let Lady Aurelia know. She’ll either send word to Lady Calliope or ride off to collect the viscountess on her way to find Mary Kate.”

Sean waved at the stable master. “Saddle one of the geldings for Flaherty.” The man ducked into the stables and returned leading one of the geldings. “Ride back to Chattsworth, Garahan,” Sean said. “Alert the viscount to the possible trouble.”

“’Twas me plan,” Garahan replied. “Though I’ll try to keep it from Lady Calliope. The last thing we need is either of their ladyships riding to the rescue. They’ve done it before when their husbands were in trouble.”

Flaherty distinctly remembered both occasions and murmured, “God help us.”

Sean nodded to Flaherty. “Go! You need to get to Chattsworth before Monroe.”

Flaherty did not need to be told twice. He was already silently reciting the list of Mary Kate’s duties and the hours she performed them.

When he’d asked her half a dozen months ago, he had no idea it would be imperative that he have the information to save her from God knew what the farrier planned for her.

He bent low over the animal’s neck and encouraged the horse to ride full out. Hoofbeats thundered beneath him as they flew down the road toward Chattsworth Manor. He prayed as he rode, “Lord, don’t let the bleeding bugger get his hands on mo chroí !”

And Mary Kate was the other half of his heart.

He covered the ground in record time, causing a hue and cry as he reined in his mount by the stables and whistled.

Michael O’Malley ran toward him from the outbuilding, where Flaherty knew the duke’s guard stored their weapons and ammunition, in their previous sleeping quarters.

Before O’Malley could speak, Flaherty shouted, “Where’s Mary Kate? ”

“At this hour, she’ll be walking in the gardens by the stone wall by the edge of the forest.”

Flaherty jumped off his gelding and raced toward the gardens and the fieldstone wall separating the viscount’s gardens from the dirt path, which led into the thickly wooded portion of his property. “Mary Kate!”

Dread filled him when she did not answer right away. Had she been abducted already? Did the blackguard have his dirty paws on his woman? He called her name again—no reply.

By the time he’d leapt over half a dozen herb plants and dodged too many thorny rosebushes, he made it to the wall, but there was still no sign of the lass. Where could she be? How long had she been gone? He needed answers…now!

He banged the heel of his hand against his forehead three times before grinding out, “Think, Flaherty!”

His brain engaged and he glanced down at the cinder path, noticing that it had been disturbed. Two sets of footprints, and right there—a sign of a scuffle. Then there was only one set of footprints moving along the wall toward the gate…large footprints!

“I’ll kill him!”

Michael O’Malley joined him. “Ye won’t, and we both know it. Ye’d never break yer word to His Grace.”

For a heartbeat, Flaherty wished that he had no honor and he could break his word.

Then a noxious taste filled his mouth and he knew that he’d best stop thinking such dangerous thoughts.

He was one of the duke’s men, and he would never do anything to cause His Grace to lose faith in his abilities or his word.

“Ye’re right. I wouldn’t. Do ye see the footprints? ”

Michael saw them when Flaherty pointed them out. “Looks like he used the gate, but I’m thinking ye should climb the wall and see if you can see if he continued walking along the outside of the wall or if he went deep into the woods.”

Flaherty was having trouble speaking. Worry tangled words around until he was afraid to speak, fearing unintelligible sounds would come out of his mouth.

He acknowledged Michael’s suggestion and scaled the wall.

Standing atop it, he easily spotted the big footprints—which followed the dirt path on the other side of the wall, heading past the outbuildings and stables all the way to a small road that intersected with the road leading to the village.

He climbed down off the wall. “He must have a wagon stowed between here and the road to town.”

“If I were planning an abduction, I’d have a wagon—and rope enough to bind me prisoner,” Michael told him.

Flaherty sprinted toward his horse. “We’ve got to find Mary Kate, laddie. Are ye ready to help me?”

The horse lifted his head and whinnied loudly.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s ride!”