Page 14 of The Duke’s Lance (The Duke’s Guard #12)

H elen shifted on her seat, staring out the window. As soon as she saw O’Malley striding toward Flaherty, she sighed. “Are all men so singled-minded?”

Josina nodded. “My Herman was. So protective of me.”

“As was my Samuel,” Jeanette added.

Their faces had twin expressions of sadness, leaving Helen to wonder what had happened to Herman and Samuel. Rather than ask, as it would be rude, she replied, “I am sorry for your loss.”

Jeanette sighed. “It was a long time ago, longer still since they purchased their colors. Do you remember how proud we were of them, sister dear?”

“Enormously proud of the Standish men. They were brothers, though not twins like my sister and I,” Josina added. “How fine they looked in their regimentals.”

Sensing she needed to distract the kindly Hinkle sisters, Helen said, “Lord Montrose received his title for bravery in battle.”

“Who is Lord Montrose?” Josina said.

“A relative of yours?” Jeanette asked.

Now that she had mentioned his name, Helen wondered if that had been wise. She was about to change the subject again, but thought of Widow Dawson and her insistence that Helen have a chaperone accompany her to Summerfield Chase. She decided to share a tiny bit of her story. “Lord Montrose literally saved my life when he offered me employment. I was his daughter’s maid, but more of a companion, as we were close in age.”

Jeanette poured the tea while Helen shared more of her story. “Mum had recently passed away. My father had been gone for years.” She paused to sip from her cup. “I was alone with nowhere to go.”

“He sounds like Herman,” Josina remarked. “It takes a man of courage and fortitude to take up arms in defense of his country.”

“The Standish brothers died in battle,” Jeanette said. “Many fine young soldiers did. If Lord Montrose received his title for bravery, he must have been an excellent man.”

“He was, but his life was cruelly cut short a few months ago…by design.”

The Hinkle sisters snapped sharply to attention, setting their teacups down in the same manner, at the same moment.

“Forgive me—I did not mean to disclose so much. I am not at liberty to discuss what happened unless given leave to.”

“Then it is no wonder O’Malley wanted you to remain here under our protection,” Josina said with a nod.

“Do not discount our ability to defend ourselves, or you,” Jeanette added, then glanced at her sister. “Let us show her.”

Intrigued, Helen watched the sisters reach into their reticules. To her surprise, but not entirely to her shock, they held folding knives. “O’Malley will be highly impressed and relieved to know you travel with a means to protect yourselves. I think I may need to purchase one for myself.”

“You have O’Malley,” the sisters reminded her.

“Ah, but I did not when I answered the advert for a companion to the dowager duchess.”

“I thought you were O’Malley’s fiancée,” Jeanette said.

“About to be married,” Josina added.

Finding herself compelled to explain, Helen did just that, but again, with the barest of facts. “He has a special license and wants us to be married when we arrive at the baron’s home.”

The sisters’ expressions showed their disapproval. “You traveled with O’Malley without a chaperone?” Josina asked.

“Initially, we were not traveling together. When I received the summons to meet with the dowager, I was led to believe that I would be hired by her. The duke insisted that I travel in one of his carriages, under the protection of one of his coachmen and a footman. At the time, I thought that was sufficient.”

“We heard part of what happened after your meeting with that woman,” Josina said. “We believed it to be a Banbury tale, didn’t we, sister dear?”

Jeanette agreed. “Furthermore, we heard that you arrived in a duke’s carriage. Due to a duke’s elevated position in life, he is normally a very good judge of character. He would not have been so magnanimous toward you, unless you were someone he admired.”

Before Helen could thank them for their belief in her character, Josina added, “But that was before circumstances took a turn for the worse with whatever happened to you. We do not need the details, unless you wish to divulge them.”

“Suffice it to say,” Jeanette continued, “with O’Malley by your side, you are no longer in physical danger, but your reputation is.” She turned to her sister. “Need I ask if you agree with what I am about to propose?”

Helen watched the sisters look into one another’s eyes for a few moments before Josina replied, “You do not. I am in wholehearted agreement. We would like to offer ourselves as chaperones on your journey to Summerfield-on-Eden.”

Helen’s heart warmed at their generous offer. “But what of your traveling plans—won’t they be interrupted?”

“We are always up for an adventure,” Jeanette told her.

“Now then, being as I am the more practical twin,” Josina began, staring at Helen’s sling, “do not be embarrassed when I ask if you require assistance tending to personal matters.”

Helen felt her face flame. “I do not believe so, but thank you for the offer.”

Jeanette beamed. “As for when it comes time to wash, we will of course assist you, as we have done for one another for years. Saves on coin and the tedium of traveling with a stranger.”

Worry began to slither into Helen’s belly. “Oh, but I am a stranger.”

Josina stood first, then her sister. “Not after a trip to the necessary, and the washstand afterward. Now then, if you will accept our offer to act as your chaperones in the spirit in which it is offered, then we shall be happy to become better acquainted on our journey to Summerfield Chase.”

“After we deliver you, with your reputation intact,” Jeanette said, “we shall look for accommodations at the inn in the village. I certainly expect there to be an inn, given that Baron Summerfield’s estate is nearby.”

Helen rose from her chair and walked over to stand beside them. “I believe there is, but would have to ask Flaherty—O’Malley’s cousin is part of the duke’s guard stationed there.”

Though neither of the Hinkle sisters gave the impression that they would welcome it, Helen reached out a hand to Josina, who gave it a quick squeeze before releasing it, and then to Jeanette, who did the same. “Thank you both from the bottom of my heart. I know that O’Malley and Flaherty do not think it necessary, but I am concerned that the baron and his wife may not be as welcoming to me as O’Malley believes if I arrive without a chaperone.”

Josina linked her arm through Helen’s while Jeanette stood on the other side of her. “From our brief introduction to O’Malley, and I am certain my sister would agree, we do not think he would speak without knowledge of the facts. Most men do not let emotion cloud their thoughts. They rely on logic and reason.”

Helen smiled as the sisters accompanied her from the private room, through the taproom, where Meghan was serving an older couple and happily pointed them in the direction when they asked. “Do you need me to accompany you?”

Surprised that she would ask, Helen thanked her but refused. “I have the Misses Hinkle with me.” O’Malley’s serious expression when he spoke of her remaining in the private room took form and swept up from her toes to poke her in the forehead. “Oh, and if O’Malley asks, please let him know that I appreciate his diligence in looking out for me and that I did not leave the room alone.”

Meghan slowly smiled. “You are a very lucky woman, Miss Langley.”

Flanked by two women, who had been strangers an hour before, humbled by their readiness to avail themselves as her chaperones, Helen readily agreed with the innkeeper’s daughter. “I truly am. Thank you, Meghan.”

*

O’Malley strode toward Flaherty. “Trouble?”

His cousin grunted and shoved Wilson toward the empty stall, whipped the cravat out of his waistcoat pocket, and tied it around the man’s mouth before he could respond.

“Nice work, Dillon.” Flaherty swore, and O’Malley grunted. “While I agree with the sentiment, I cannot say for sure if he is a cock—” He nearly bit his tongue cutting off the rest of the word as Meghan rushed toward him.

“I offered to go with them, and now they’re gone!”

“Slow down, lass, and start again. Ye offered to go with who?”

“Miss Langley and the Hinkle sisters—and they disappeared.”

“How long ago?”

“Don’t you want to know where they were headed?”

O’Malley grumbled, “The outhouse behind the inn.”

“How did you know?”

“I have me ways. How long have they been gone?”

“At least a quarter of an hour. I was going to give them longer, considering the three women were headed there at the same time, but remembered that you seemed anxious about Miss Langley leaving the room at all.”

“Thank ye, Meghan.” He turned to his cousin. “Send for the constable—he should have finished his meeting by now. Ask the hostler for two men to help ye guard Wilson.”

Flaherty nodded. “Find the lass and the sisters, Eamon.”

O’Malley’s heart threatened to jump through his skin, and his hands were drenched with nervous sweat—a sign that he needed to collect his thoughts before his kneejerk reaction to act first and ask questions second took hold of him. He rubbed his hands on his sleeves—shirt sleeves, not coat sleeves. O’Malley had forgotten that he’d wrapped the lass in his frockcoat.

Within minutes, he rounded the building and noticed the door to the small building was askew. Sprinting toward it, he grimaced. It had been ripped off the hinges. The only evidence that anyone had been there recently were two reticules that he recognized immediately as belonging to the Hinkle sisters: one pink, one blue. He tucked them into his pockets. “What did we miss? How did someone slip past us?”

He balked at making the time to search the area between the back of the inn and the outbuilding but forced himself to perform the task. It turned up a surprising clue—one of the buttons from his coat. He’d recognize it anywhere: it was black with the imprint of a Celtic harp. Rubbing his thumb across the harp soothed the edge of his fear as he tucked it in his waistcoat pocket. O’Malley had found the button from his frockcoat, so he would find the lass. And when he did, he would not let go of her until they were safe within the walls of Baron Summerfield’s estate.

One of the stable lads called out to him. He looked up from where he knelt by the side of the necessary. “Has someone gone for the constable?”

“Didn’t have to,” the lad replied. “He just arrived with two men who asked to speak to Flaherty first and then you. Can I send them over?”

“Did they tell ye their names?”

“They did: Hennessey and Jackson.”

The familiar names smoothed another edge off O’Malley’s concern. Hennessey was one of Coventry’s men. Jackson worked as a runner for Gavin King. Either there was a new development regarding the death of Lord Montrose, or they were heading to Summerfield Chase for a different reason. The latter could mean one of two things: the squire and his wife had been found guilty of the crime of attempted murder of a member of the ton ’s wife—Lady Phoebe, Baroness Summerfield, who was the Duke of Wyndmere’s sister. Or Hardwell had escaped. O’Malley prayed it was the former.

“Send them over.” O’Malley used the time to search the area once more. He was about to leave when something caught his eye. There—in the grass a few feet behind the building was a miniscule bit of pink fabric. Cautious now, moving slowly, he traced an imaginary line in his head that led to the break in the trees in the distance. He stopped for a second and third time along the way to pick up bits of fabric, putting them in his pocket.

“Thank ye, Jeanette.” The woman had left him a clue in the form of a pale pink trail. He’d follow it to the end, because he knew it would lead to the lass. He was nearly to the narrow path leading into the thick forest when he heard a deep voice call his name.

He didn’t bother to stop, or turn around, simply shouted, “This way!” O’Malley kept moving forward. The men reached his side a few minutes later.

Hennessey was the first to question him. “Where are you headed?”

O’Malley dug in his pocket and showed Coventry’s man the bits of fabric.

“Miss Langley was wearing a pink gown?”

O’Malley shook his head. “One of the Hinkle sisters. She’s left a trail for me to follow.”

“What about Flaherty?” Jackson asked. “King wanted Hennessey and I to ensure you found her and delivered her to Summerfield Chase.”

“Flaherty was to go for the constable if I did not return in the time frame I gave him.”

“The constable is with him now,” Hennessey remarked. “Why don’t we split up, Jackson? I’ll go with O’Malley, while you accompany Flaherty to Summerfield Chase.”

“There’s still the matter of the missing footman.”

“Whose footman?” Jackson asked.

“One of the duke’s newest hires,” O’Malley told them. “His coachman pulled into the inn earlier today in a bad way. He’d been struck on the back of the head, and when he regained consciousness, the young footman was missing. The coachman’s at the inn recovering.” He moved forward onto the path. “Ye should question him before ye leave. With luck he will have recalled something important before he was struck.”

“That changes things,” Jackson said. “I’ll wait for your return. Go! Find whoever took Miss Langley and the sisters.”

As Hennessey jogged to catch up with O’Malley, who had moved a distance ahead of him, O’Malley said, “There are two other women with Helen. The Hinkle sisters, who are twins, and apparently think quickly on their feet.”

“So three women to rescue. I would hazard a guess that at least that many men may have abducted them,” Hennessey muttered.

O’Malley held out his arm to the side to keep Hennessey from stepping on the bit of pink on the path. He bent and picked it up, then explained what he’d found by the outhouse. “We’re on the right path, but need to make up time—they have been gone for a least three-quarters of an hour by now.”

“We’ll find her,” Hennessey assured him.

O’Malley’s gut churned, and his heart ached. “We have to.” He would find the lass, and he would make whoever had snatched her pay. Every time he or Coventry’s man picked up another swatch of fabric, he envisioned plowing his fist into the perpetrator’s face, gut, or kidneys. What did not waver was his vow that he would find her.

“There aren’t any more pieces,” Hennessey reported.

O’Malley fought the urge to bellow with rage, turning it inward and harnessing the rage into cold, clear logic. “We’ll turn around and retrace our steps to the bend in the path with the forked tree.”

Hennessey nodded. “And we’ll take the overgrown path.”

“Aye.” Making up for lost time, O’Malley strode forward.

Hennessey lagged behind collecting the pink clues. Every time he found another one, he called out, “Keep going!”

A few miles into the woods, O’Malley held up a hand and pointed to the left, where the woods thinned out and a ramshackle abode stood. Finger to his lips, he motioned for Hennessey to slip around the right side of the small cottage. O’Malley took the left.

Working his way around the corner to the side, he noticed a window and heard a commotion coming from inside. He was about to continue around the back to rendezvous with Hennessey when he heard a bloodcurdling scream.

O’Malley launched himself through the broken window with a roar, his arm covering his face to protect his eyes. He landed on his feet at the same time the door to the cottage splintered as Hennessey broke through it.

He blinked, but the sight before him did not change. The lass was clinging to the back of a huge man with her fists full of his long and greasy hair, yanking on it with all her might, while the man shouted obscenities at her.

Before the behemoth could reach around to pull her off him, O’Malley grabbed hold of Helen with one hand and kicked the man in the side of his knee. He went down with a howl.

“I’ll tie him up,” Hennessey said. “You can check the ladies for injuries.”

O’Malley held on to his temper by a thread. The terror of what could have happened, if the man managed to toss Helen off his back and into the far wall, had him by the bollocks.

“What in the bloody hell do ye think ye’re doing?” He knew the lass was trying to protect the sister in pink, who stood with her back to the wall. Jeanette looked fragile enough to be in danger of keeling over at any minute. Her face was devoid of color, and her hand trembled where she held it to her cheek. But her eyes blazed with anger, not fear. The woman may appear frail, but she was livid.

“Has it escaped your notice that Miss Langley was trying to keep that excuse for a man from hitting my sister again?” Josina’s voice wavered as she walked toward her sister and wrapped an arm around her. Chin tipped up, mouth in a stern line, she glared at O’Malley. Side by side, he noticed that the twins were in a sorry shape—their hair was in disarray, half up in pins, half down. Both had bruises on their cheeks, but by all that was holy, the women looked ready to do battle!

“Forgive me, ladies. Me temper—and concern for yerselves and me bride-to-be—overwhelmed me. Never happened before,” he admitted, loosening his hold on the lass. He carefully straightened her sling and slipped her injured wrist through it. He noticed the way Helen was trembling and was not certain if it was from anger or fear for the Hinkle sisters. The lass had already proven she had the heart of a lion, trying to protect Emily when they had been attacked by Hardwell. He brushed a lock of ebony out of her eyes and warned her, “’Tis a good thing the widow splinted yer wrist, or ye may have damaged her wrist further when ye grabbed hold of him.”

A deep grunt from behind him had him turning around in time to see Hennessey elbow their prisoner in the ribs, fighting not to smile.

“Trouble?”

Coventry’s man shook his head. “Proving a point.”

The man tried to shift away from Hennessey, who noticed O’Malley striding toward him, and let go as O’Malley grabbed the man by the throat. “Who paid ye?”

The man glared at him.

“Wrong answer.” O’Malley delivered a right cross followed by an uppercut that lifted the man off his feet and into the wall. “Now then, ladies, we need to ask a few questions. It may not be safe for us to leave without answers.” They all seemed to be paying attention to him, so he asked, “How did he get the jump on you? Was he alone?”

Helen sighed. “He was hiding inside the outhouse, waiting for me.”

O’Malley clenched his teeth, and Hennessey asked, “How did he convince the three of you to go with him?”

Without missing a beat, Helen replied, “It was the way he asked me. I couldn’t say no.”

O’Malley narrowed his eyes and frowned at the lass. “Ye said no to me easily enough.”

Her smile was a bit ragged around the edges when she added, “Mayhap it was the blade he held to my throat.”

O’Malley couldn’t feel the top of his head, and his vision narrowed before clearing. He tried to speak, but couldn’t push the words past the knot in his throat. Hennessey nudged him in the shoulder, and O’Malley snapped out of it. “Let me see.”

She tilted her head to the side, and his stomach turned over. Controlling the urge to heave, he stared at the thin red line on the side of her throat. It was shallow, or it would have been bleeding profusely. “Let me take care of that before we leave.” He slipped the handkerchief from his pocket and folded it lengthwise, then carefully placed it against the cut. “Hold it for me while I tie me cravat around yer throat.”

Hennessey was quietly speaking to the sisters when O’Malley completed the task. A good thing, or else the man would have noticed that O’Malley’s hands weren’t steady and never let him forget it.

Jeanette spoke up. “We had best head back to the inn. Sister and I need to be on our way.”

“Ye’re leaving without having yer injuries tended to?”

“Of course,” Josina replied. “I am quite sure you will want to leave at once.”

“While I do, we have yet to locate the duke’s footman, and we’ll need to have the cut on Helen’s neck cleansed properly first.” The way the two women were staring at him had him wondering if he had missed a vital part of the conversation. “Have ye decided where ye’ll be visiting next?”

“We have,” Jeanette said.

Josina nodded. “We’re going with you to Summerfield Chase as chaperones to Miss Langley.”

Unsure if it would be a help or a hindrance, O’Malley said, “Thank ye for staying with Helen, even though ye were injured in the process. Ye kept yer word, and I’m grateful.”

The Hinkles graciously accepted his thanks. He’d thought he had his anger at what happened to the lass under control. But the sight of his cravat tied around her throat gutted him.

O’Malley schooled his features and turned to his intended, wondering if the lass would always attract trouble. ’Twas best to save that question for another time. Now was not the time.

“Thank ye for holding to yer promise not to leave without Miss Josina and Miss Jeanette.”

Helen did not hold his gaze for long. Something was on the lass’s mind, but that question would have to wait as well. As soon as they located the footman, they needed to leave.

“I’ll need to speak with Flaherty, Jackson, and the constable to organize a search party for the duke’s footman.” When no one contradicted him, he asked, “Is everyone able to walk back without assistance?”

The Hinkle sisters narrowed their eyes and lifted their chins again—a sign that they were displeased with him. But he didn’t mind—that meant that they were definitely ready to walk. A glance at the lass, and he knew she would not need assistance either, though he planned to have her walk between the sisters.

“Hennessey, lead the way with the prisoner.”

Coventry’s man nodded, grabbed hold of the blackguard, and tossed him over his shoulder.

Ignoring the murmured comments from the women, O’Malley said, “Miss Josina, I need ye to steady the lass on one side. Miss Jeanette, if ye could walk on her other side, I’ll bring up the rear.”

Though grudgingly accepted, he knew his orders would be followed.

About fecking time.