Page 29

N ow that Mary Kate was safely ensconced within the walls of Chattsworth Manor, Flaherty was ready to get to the bottom of whatever the bloody hell had happened that the buggering farrier thought he could get away with stealing the lass from him.

He wanted to pound his fists into the man until he was nothing but a bloody pulp, but knew the duke would not be a party to it.

His Grace had his rules, and every man in the duke’s guard strove to follow them to the letter.

Flaherty knew he could get a few solid punches in, and would have to be satisfied, as the duke would not allow much more than that.

He knew from Garahan’s tale of what happened when Tremayne and Emmett O’Malley accompanied him to the tavern where Garahan’s wife had been working before they wed.

Garahan told him the earl had been very clear that the three of them were each allowed one blow—one man at a time—and no more, believing it would be in the spirit of what his brother the duke would have approved of.

Not many men were of the same fighting caliber as Garahan, Tremayne, and O’Malley—therefore, one punch each.

Which was part of the reason Flaherty needed to go alone.

He did not need anyone counting the number of times he punched the bloody blackguard who thought to take Mary Kate from him.

He planned to send a message to anyone else who thought to steal her.

He’d pledged to love and honor the lass, promised her he’d give her babes to love.

His breath caught in his lungs— God in Heaven! Was she carrying his babe even now?

He tossed the reins of his gelding to the stable master. “I’ll be right back.” Sprinting to the rear entrance, he called her name as he entered the building. “Lass, where are ye?”

She rushed out of the kitchen. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“I’m needing a private word with ye. ’Twill only take a moment.”

“Of course.”

He led her far enough from the kitchen so as not to be heard, then dipped his head low to quietly ask, “Lass, have ye been feeling weak or nauseated in the mornings?”

“I think you would have noticed, wouldn’t you?”

“Sure and I would hope so. But it takes quite a bit of concentration for me to shift me thoughts from me delectable wife to me duty once I’m out of our bed.” He cleared his throat to add, “I may not have noticed.”

Her cheeks pinkened again, and he just had to brush his lips against hers in a whisper-soft kiss.

“After all ye’ve been through today, with yer head injury and being in all that smoke from the fire—God help me, I cannot even begin to imagine it, yet have to confess the thought that just hit me, lass. ”

“Whatever is on your mind, don’t let it worry you so. Just tell me.”

He grabbed hold of her hands and pulled her into his embrace, hugging her to his heart. As she slipped her arms around his waist, he murmured, “Lass, ye’re a strong woman, but if ye’re carrying me child, the trauma today may be too much for yerself and the babe.”

She grew still in his arms. “I hadn’t thought it possible to conceive so soon after being wed.”

“Ah, lass, did ye already forget what I told ye about we Flahertys being a virile bunch?”

“No, but I did think you were exaggerating.”

Her sweet smile felt like a hug, and he hated to burst her bubble of happiness, but needed her to understand what still might happen. “Lass, did ye hear what I said?”

“Yes, you are warning me that I may be carrying our babe, only to lose it because of what happened.”

“Ye were knocked unconscious, and we barely escaped the fire.” She nodded against his chest, but didn’t let go of him.

Flaherty rested his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m needing to warn Lady Calliope and Mrs. Romney so one of them will be with ye while I’m gone.

Send for me at once if ye experience any cramping. ”

Again she was silent. He eased back from her and, with the tip of his finger, tilted her chin so he could see her eyes. “I’ll have yer word, wife.”

A tear escaped before she gathered her composure around her like an invisible cloak of strength. “You have it. For our babe’s sake…if there is one.”

He kissed her with barely controlled passion. “Do ye have any idea how much I love ye, lass? If I didn’t have to gather the information for His Grace—”

“Why can’t Garahan go in your place?” she rasped.

“Ye’re me wife. ’Tis me place to avenge ye, and me place to question the prisoners. Garahan went when it involved his wife. Trust me, lass. I’ll be asking God to watch over ye and our babe until I return.”

“But what if I’m not—”

He grinned. “When I return, I’ll be tending to me duty to ensure you will be, come morning.”

“You say the most outrageous things.”

“Aye, and by the high color on yer cheeks, ye don’t really mind.

Do ye, mo ghrá ?” He kissed her again, deeply, lingeringly, before reluctantly letting her go.

“I’ll just have a quick word with Mrs. Romney and ask her to speak to Lady Calliope.

If I wasn’t pressed for time—and worried that the prisoner transport from London would arrive before I get to speak to the blackguards—I’d be telling Lady Calliope meself. ”

Mary Kate lifted to her toes, flung her arms around his neck, and kissed him boldly, setting off a fire inside of him. He’d come to expect it, as it happened every time their lips met.

“Lass…”

Just as quickly, she released him. He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and called out Mrs. Romney’s name. The older woman rushed out of the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

“Mary Kate needs either yerself or Lady Calliope to stick close to her until I return.”

“Do you fear that her head injury is more severe than we realized?” the cook asked.

“Nay, ’tis something of a more delicate nature that I’m worried about.”

Without being told, Mrs. Romney nodded. “Of course. I don’t know why I did not think of that myself. I’ll make sure Mary Kate rests with her feet up. We’ll keep a close eye on her and send for you should it become necessary.”

“Thank ye, Mrs. Romney. I’d only just thought of it meself and didn’t want the lass to be suffering alone should the worst happen.”

“Mary Kate will not be alone, and we shall all pray that nothing happens.”

Flaherty surprised the cook by kissing her cheek. “Thank ye.”

He drew his wife in his arms for one last kiss and then strode down the hallway. Duty called. He had a group of prisoners to question, and a wife to return to. Flaherty did not plan on wasting any more time.

The stable lad handed him the reins, and Flaherty quickly mounted his horse. “I’ll be with the constable.”

As he rode to the village, his thoughts were on his wife. Her smile was imprinted on his brain and branded on his heart. “Lord, I know it’s too soon to know for certain, but I’ve got this gut feeling. Please watch over me wife and our babe. Thank ye, Lord.”

Feeling better having prayed, he arrived at the constable’s building ready to wring every last bit of information out of the men. He was not above using force if need be, though he’d prefer to save it for when he questioned the farrier.

He entered the building and was greeted by the constable. “Ah, Flaherty, I’ve been waiting for you. I understand from Garahan that you will be questioning the prisoners, in particular Monroe.”

“Aye, thank ye. Oh, and I’ll be questioning Monroe about another matter altogether as well.”

The constable frowned. “Pertaining to the kidnapping and other charges?”

“Aye. In particular, the matter of how he came to be in possession of the large amount of coin he promised to pay Parks and the other henchmen.”

“This is the first I’m hearing about the coin.

As constable, I need to know how he came into the money as well.

I have recently been made aware of a recent rash of coin mysteriously disappearing from a few of the villagers.

At first some thought they had miscounted, and others blamed their wives or husbands for not paying close enough attention to their household accounts.

Still others blamed it on the pixies and faeries, though I’ll never question that.

The fae will do what the fae will do, and take what they feel is their fair share. ”

“I could not agree with ye more. Ma has been known to say the same. ’Tis interesting what ye’ve been told.

I have it on good authority there is another party who has reported missing coin.

” Before the constable could question him, which would delay his getting back to his wife, Flaherty said, “Now then, why don’t I start questioning the henchmen and work my way up to Monroe? ”

“Right this way.”

Flaherty followed the constable down the hallway to the back of the building, where two cells had been erected with thick bars fashioned by the blacksmith, a formidable giant with a talent for forging iron. “I see ye have the farrier in a cell by himself.”

“Aye,” the constable said. “I thought to divide the men equally between the two cells, but the minute I closed the door, they went for Monroe’s throat.”

Flaherty stared at the farrier. “Pity you did not let them finish the job. I would have left them alone with him a bit longer.”

“Would you like to speak to each man individually?”

He thought about it, and the time that would take, and decided against it. “I need to return to me wife, so I’ll be speaking to this group first, and then Monroe.”

“Shall I remove the farrier?”

“No need.” Flaherty glared at Monroe. “He knows what I’ll be asking him, and best prepare himself to answer me—honestly.

” He walked to the cell door and deliberately took his time looking at one man at a time, meeting their gazes, studying them, exerting his will over them before speaking.

“Me name’s Flaherty and ’twas me wife ye nabbed.

If we were home in Ireland, it would be within me rights to kill ye without fear of repercussion. ”

One man wavered on his feet, and another sat down hard on the floor of the cell.