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F laherty’s heart pounded in time with the stallion’s thundering hooves tearing up the road leading to the squire’s home.

The distant baying of hounds had him wondering if the squire knew Flaherty’s wife was missing and that she had been taken to his land.

Judging from the call of the hounds, he quickly realized it was feeding time at the squire’s kennels—they weren’t being gathered to go off on a hunt.

The din of hungry hounds clamoring to be fed covered the sound of his approach.

Flaherty whistled to get the man’s attention. Squire Dean glanced over his shoulder. “Flaherty, to what do I owe this visit?”

“Is there an abandoned barn on your property?”

The squire scratched behind the ear of the hound leaning against his legs. “Why?”

“I’ll explain later. There’s no time! Where is it?”

Picking up on the urgency, the squire gave him directions.

The blasted barn was a quarter of a mile away!

Flaherty was off like a shot, covering the ground easily on the earl’s prized horse.

He saw the dilapidated building ahead of him in the distance, and pulled back on the reins.

“Easy, laddie, ye made good time. I won’t forget the promised treat.

” He slid off the horse and tied him to a nearby tree a good distance away from the barn. “Wait here.”

Approaching the building slowly, he searched the area surrounding it first. No sign of life. The roof was nearly caved in, and the doors and windows were missing. He walked up to the doorway, leaned in, and called out, “Mary Kate? Are ye in there?”

The silence was deafening. A frisson of worry slithered through his gut.

“I’m here to set ye free, lass.” He entered the building and was struck on the back of the head.

He fought against the blinding pain, but could not hold out against the devastating blow.

The last thing he heard was deep voices whispering.

“What in the bloody hell am I supposed to do with him? He weighs a ton!”

“Grab his legs, Leeds, and lift his shoulders.”

The two men worked in tandem, carrying Flaherty into the barn. “Make sure the knots are tight, Samuelson. Monroe won’t pay us if he escapes.”

“What about the woman?”

“Hulkner will be delivering her shortly. Help me tie his feet together.”

Finally, the men were satisfied that they’d secured the duke’s man to the best of their ability. “You don’t think he’ll escape, do you?” Samuelson asked.

Leeds snickered. “Nay. There’s every chance that he won’t rouse before the smoke or the fire get him.”

“I’m not so sure about setting the barn on fire…or letting a pretty woman like Mary Kate die that way,” Samuelson rasped. “We could tell Monroe that they both perished in the fire and keep the woman for ourselves.”

His partner in crime seemed to think about it, but then they heard hooves fast approaching. “That’ll be Hulkner. Let’s go grab the woman and tie her up.”

They walked out of the barn in time to see Hulkner help Flaherty’s wife off the horse—and strike her on the back of the head.

Samuelson shook his head. “It’ll be a blessing that she’ll be unconscious when the fire takes her.”

The trio worked together in silence. Hulkner tied Mary Kate up and left her propped up next to Flaherty on the dirt floor of the barn, leaning against an empty water trough.

Leeds and Samuelson gathered the dried hay by the armful and placed piles of it strategically around the inside of the barn.

Next came the stacks of twigs they’d gathered ahead of time.

They placed the thin bits of branches in and around the hay, ensuring that once the fire caught, the straw and twigs would ignite quickly, and the fire would engulf the barn, burning everything inside of it—Flaherty and his wife included.

Leeds stood back to watch while Hulkner removed the flint from his pocket and struck it until it sparked.

Samuelson glanced at the still form of the couple one last time. “Are you sure we can’t take her with us?”

Hulkner growled, “If you don’t want the promised coin…”

“Never mind. Light it!” Leeds said.

“Hands up, ye sorry sons of bitches!”

The men took off in three different directions.

Garahan nabbed the man about to toss the flaming handful of dried straw onto the stacks surrounding Flaherty and his wife, and used the man’s chest to smother the flames.

Ignoring the screams, he yanked the blackguard’s hands behind his back.

After tying them together, he hauled the man out of the barn and tossed him on the ground next to the constable.

The constable’s men captured the other two would-be murderers, bound their hands behind their backs, and dragged them toward the constable as Garahan raced back inside.

He knelt beside Flaherty, shook him, and yelled, “Wake up!” The answering groan was music to Garahan’s ears as he sliced through Flaherty’s ropes. “We’ve got to save Mary Kate!”

Flaherty blinked, frowned, and shot to his feet, swaying from side to side before he was able to stand still. “What the feck happened, and why do I smell smoke?”

Garahan ignored the question and sliced Mary Kate’s ropes, then tucked his knife back in his boot.

He reached for her, but Flaherty elbowed him out of the way. “I’ve got her.” Everything clicked into place as Flaherty’s mind cleared. “Someone hit me head.”

“Knocked ye both out,” Garahan added. “Hurry! I don’t trust this barn not to blow over in a stiff wind, or… Bloody hell! Do I smell smoke?”

Flaherty grunted. “I asked ye first.”

They noticed the flames licking the bottom of the far wall at the same time. “Move it, boy-o.” Garahan shoved Flaherty in front of him. “Get her out of here. Now!”

They ran toward the front of the barn as the back wall caved in.

“Duck!” Garahan yelled, then grabbed hold of Flaherty’s arm, yanking him out of the way as a section of roof fell where they had been standing.

Flaherty curled his body around his wife, praying that she wouldn’t wake until they were free of the burning building, cursing the size of the barn as they sprinted toward the doorway.

He heard an ominous creak behind him, and dug deep to sprint through the opening.

Garahan never let go as they cleared the building.

The post and beam construction gave way. The barn collapsed as fire claimed the building.

Ignoring the searing pain at the base of his skull, Flaherty staggered farther from what was left of the barn.

The squire arrived on horseback, followed by a handful of his servants in a wagon loaded with ropes, shovels, pickaxes, and buckets.

Orders were shouted, and the men were soon shoveling up the dirt surrounding the barn and tossing it onto the flames.

Another wagonload of men arrived from the village and formed a bucket brigade using the water from the well.

Garahan walked toward Flaherty and Mary Kate with a small bucket. He knelt beside them, untied his cravat, and dunked it in the water. He handed it to Flaherty. “She’s strong. Ye’ll see.”

Flaherty gently bathed her face, searching for cuts from the splintered wood that had exploded when one of the beams crashed behind them. Relief filled him when he only uncovered abrasions.

“Seamus?”

The lass’s smoke-roughened voice was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. “There’s a lass. How’s yer head, mo ghrá ?”

Garahan rinsed the cravat and handed it back to Flaherty. “Do ye remember what happened?”

She turned to her husband. “You were in an accident. Hurt. Calling for me.”

He glanced at Garahan and then back. “Nay. I’m fine, lass.”

“But he told me—”

“Who told ye?” Flaherty asked.

Garahan frowned, then nodded to the trio of men bound and leaning against a boulder. “Which one was it?”

“The one wailing. Did he fall in the fire?”

“I wouldn’t be knowing, lass,” Garahan replied.

“I should have realized the depth of the farrier’s obsession with ye, mo chroí . He wasn’t through with his plans for ye.”

Mary Kate frowned. “I thought he was cooling his heels in the constable’s gaol while waiting to be transported to London.”

“’Twas the plan, but his accomplices had instructions to lure ye away from Chattsworth.”

She placed her hand on his arm. “While you were lured away from Lippincott Manor?”

Flaherty clenched his jaw before relaxing it enough to answer, “Aye, his plan nearly worked, but Garahan arrived to save the day.”

“Ye would have rescued yer wife if ye hadn’t been clubbed on the back of the head, Seamus.”

“That I would.” He gently brushed a thin smear of soot that he’d missed off Mary Kate’s face, then pressed his lips to her forehead. “If Garahan hadn’t arrived when he did—”

“But he did,” she said. “Thank you for saving us, James.”

“I’d be saying ’twas me pleasure, but I hate to lie. I had to rouse this eedjit and cut his ropes off, then we had to free yerself. We were doing a fine job of it until we smelled the smoke and realized the barn was on fire.”

“How could you not know?” Mary Kate asked.

“We were otherwise occupied,” Flaherty grumbled, then kissed her to keep her from asking any other questions.

“You two wait here, while I have a word with Squire Dean. Ah,” Garahan said, pointing toward the road leading to the barn.

“The constable looks like he’s ready to be taking these three blackguards into custody to join Monroe.

I’ll be sure and tell him if I hadn’t arrived when I did, the buggers would have succeeded in murdering the both of ye! ”

Flaherty watched his cousin stalk toward the constable, soothed by his anger. “Garahan’s partial to ye, but he loves me like a brother.”

Mary Kate agreed. “And you feel the same way about him.”

“Faith, ye aren’t wrong. ’Tis the sainted O’Malleys that fall last in line, behind me brothers, James, and the rest of the Garahans.

” He felt a nudge on his shoulder, glanced over it, and chuckled.

“Well now, here’s his lordship’s stallion come to remind me that I still haven’t fed him the promised treats. ”