Page 17 of The Duke’s Lance (The Duke’s Guard #12)
O ’Malley entered the inn and walked along the hallway, nodding to the innkeeper’s wife as he opened the door to the private dining room. He braced in time to catch the lass as she threw her arm around him. “I was so worried!”
He gathered her to his heart, breathed in her scent—sun-warmed roses—and sensed all would be right with his world as soon as they were wed. While her trembling ebbed, he thought of the different ways he’d soothe her—if they were already married. He held in his sigh, knowing he’d have to wait before letting his thoughts continue along that path.
“Ye never need to worry about me, lass. I can handle meself.”
She lifted her head back and tilted it to one side. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve skills ye’d probably rather not know about. Shall I tell ye?”
The irritation on her face had him chuckling. Helen did not seem pleased. He swallowed his laughter.
“I’m meaning me skill with weaponry , especially with a lance.”
“I thought that was a weapon Medieval knights used to joust with.”
“Aye, but any iron bar or blade long enough—even a small tree—can be used as a lance with the same results: unseating or overpowering your opponent.”
Helen’s expression softened. “And have you done that more than once?”
“Aye, lass. Mayhap ye require a demonstration. I’d be happy to accommodate ye, once we arrive at Summerfield Chase. Me brother is always willing to cross swords with me. He feels he has the edge as the duke’s rapier.”
“We wouldn’t mind attending a demonstration,” Josina said. “How many of the duke’s men are stationed there?”
O’Malley smiled. “Three. Me twin Thomas, who is in charge of the duke’s men at the baron’s estate. Then there’s Flaherty, who is taking care of the prisoner at the moment, and Garahan.”
While the sisters were discussing the possibility of seeing some of the duke’s men showing off their skills, he glanced down at Helen. Her lovely face held the expression of fascination-wrapped desire that slammed into his gut. Digging deep to control it, he reminded her, “Ye owe me a kiss, lass.” Her hesitant smile brought out the devil in him. “Pay up.”
O’Malley claimed her lips in a kiss that held the promise of a thousand nights of passion, a houseful of babes, and a lifetime of love. She sagged against him, and he softened his kiss to one of reverence. “I’ll love ye forever, lass, and promise to be a good and caring husband to ye, and patient father to the dozen babes I’ve asked the Lord to grace us with.”
When he heard the delighted laughter from across the room, he realized that he had well and truly compromised the lass in front of witnesses. “Well, now there’s no getting out of it, nor changing yer mind, lass. Ye have to marry me, or else the rumors will abound that ye’ve made promises to me that ye don’t intend to keep.”
Helen rested her head over his heart and sighed. “You may live to regret your decision if we have daughters.”
“Nay, lass, I’ve cousins enough, and brothers as well, who will gladly lend a hand watching out for them. Besides, between me married cousins and brother, there are bound to be a few sons born into the mix, as the lot of them have wives who, if they are not already pregnant, will be soon. Ye’ve met the first of the new generation of O’Malleys to be born—Patrick and Gwendolyn’s daughter Deidre. Me brother Sean and his wife Mignonette have a son, Iain, and me other brother Michael and his wife have Harry—”
“Harry?”
O’Malley laughed at the confusion on Helen’s face. “Aye, ’tis short for Harriet, a widow with a son who is four and ten.”
O’Malley noticed the wistful tone of her voice and faraway look on the lass’s face when she asked, “Are there any more babes?”
“Aye, me cousin Patrick’s brother, Finn. He and his wife Mollie have a new babe—Boadicea.”
“They named her for an ancient warrior queen?”
O’Malley snorted with laughter. “’Tis a long tale that usually requires a bit of the Irish to tell. Ye’ll not be hearing it until we’re wed good and proper, as it’s a bit scandalous.”
Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed, endearing her to him as she burrowed further into his chest.
“So ye see, ye’ve nothing to worry about, as me brother’s stepson is old enough to watch out for any daughters we have, and will no doubt have a hand in teaching any sons the rest of me family have, as they’ll be a wee bit older than our daughters.”
Helen’s frown was yet another telling sign of the lass’s innocence. He leaned close and pitched his voice so the Hinkle sisters would not hear when he asked, “Ye do know how long it takes from conception to birth, don’t ye?” When she frowned at him, he couldn’t resist kissing the tip of her nose. “’Twas an honest question, lass.” She grunted, and he laughed. “If not that, then what’s got ye frowning at me again?”
“We shouldn’t expect your family to watch out for our daughters. You will need to teach them how to defend themselves, as I am certain your brothers and cousins will do the same with their babes. If it wasn’t for what Lord Montrose taught Emily and me about a man’s weak spot—”
O’Malley would later swear his bollocks shrank at the thought of what Montrose had taught his daughter and Helen. “Ye have me word that I will teach our daughters to protect themselves. Now then, lass, ’tis yer turn to kiss me.”
The lass shocked him when she slipped her arm around his neck, lifted to her toes, and pressed her plump lips to his. God, the taste of her went to his head like a shot of poitín .
The sound of more than one throat clearing had him realizing they still had an audience. Breaking the kiss, he smiled at the dazed expression on her face. “Ye’ve a potent kiss, lass. I’m thinking I might need another.” He lowered his mouth to hers.
“Kiss yer intended later, O’Malley—we’re hungry.”
He ignored Flaherty, held Helen against his side, turned, and glanced at the two men standing behind the Hinkle sisters. Instead of embarrassment, he felt pride. The lass’s kiss hadn’t just affected her—it had his head feeling light and his heart full. “Helen-lass, I’m sure ye remember meeting Hennessey and Jackson.”
“I do. Thank you for coming to our aid.”
“You’re more than welcome,” Hennessey replied.
“A pleasure,” Jackson said.
“Ye’ll be meeting Constable Saunders and his men, Ames and Grant, later. They’re guarding the prisoners at the moment and will be accompanying us to Summerfield Chase. On another matter, Flaherty and I have spoken with the duke’s coachman—although he has rallied and is recovering as expected, we feel he needs another few days to rest. By the time we are ready to return, he’ll be ready to drive the duke’s carriage to Wyndmere Hall.
“We’ll stop here at the inn, and either see Miss Josina and Miss Jeanette safely on their way, or they will continue the journey with us. I’ve already sent word to Their Graces explaining the situation, and anticipate they will welcome ye as their guests at Wyndmere Hall for courageously protecting Helen in her hour of need.”
“It sounds delightful,” Josina remarked.
“We would be honored,” Jeanette added.
“Now that that’s settled, who’s hungry? I caught the savory scent of stew simmering when I walked in the rear door.”
As if on cue, Mrs. Bertram and Meghan entered, each bearing a huge tray. One carried bowls of stew and a sliced round of bread and butter. The other had two teapots, cups and saucers, plates, napkins, and utensils.
O’Malley kept his arm around Helen as he led her over to the empty chair between the Hinkles. Though he would not have minded helping her eat, he realized that it would be something he could do as her husband without the worry of her reputation being besmirched. Soon, he told himself. Tomorrow at the latest—prisoners and the weather cooperating—they would arrive at Summerfield Chase in plenty of time to marry. And from that day forward he would fall asleep every night with the lass tucked in his arms after a satisfying lesson in lovemaking…and wake her every morning with more of the same.
He could not wait to marry her.