Page 18 of The Duke’s Man-At-Arms (The Duke’s Guard #11)

“M rs. O’Toole! Mrs. Wigglesworth!” Aimee and Miranda greeted the duke’s cook and housekeeper with warmth.

“And is this little Emma?” Mrs. Wigglesworth beamed at the captain and Miranda’s little girl.

“My how you have grown,” Mrs. O’Toole said. “I have a batch of teacakes that need to be frosted, Emma. Would you like to help me?”

“Cakes?” The little girl bounced in her mother’s arms. “Please, Mum?”

Miranda’s soft laughter filtered down the hallway from the kitchen to the room next to the pantry, where Michaela and Mary were quietly waiting for the latest arrivals to settle in. Michaela reached for Mary’s hand and shook her head at the uncertainty in the other woman’s eyes. “You have nothing to fear. Aimee suffered a fate similar to ours.”

“Isn’t she married to Darby Garahan now?” Mary asked. “I am not married. I chose a different path…”

Michaela patted the back of her hand. “We each chose the only path available to us at the time. Without Aimee’s permission, I will not share her story, but know that it echoes yours and mine.”

“Men pay for my favors,” Mary whispered. “It was either that…starve…or throw myself into the Thames.”

Michaela scooted her chair closer to the cot where Mary had been sitting silent for the last hour. “I pretended to have a virulent fever to keep my father from discovering what happened to me. I could not take the chance that if word got out, every one of his patients would give him the cut direct. He would be ruined.”

Mary stared at Michaela for a moment, then said, “Haversham lured me into the garden after dancing and then forced himself on me. When I arrived home in such a state, my parents blamed me, saying that no one would believe it of Lord Haversham.” Her eyes filled with tears. “They disowned me and cast me out.”

“And you had nowhere else to go?”

Mary shook her head. “Word quickly spread of what happened, I think by Haversham. He delighted in ruining me, and then he shredded my reputation.”

“My father’s worry that I would die from the fever was what may have kept Haversham from doing more damage than he could have. When I finally emerged from my room, Papa could see that I had recovered. I never told him what happened. After losing Mum, he gave everything he had to his practice and healing his patients. He had little time for anything else, let alone his only child. The only way I could spend time with him was to learn all that he knew about healing.”

“And because of that, you became the angel of the streets. Rescuing others because you understood what they were feeling…what they were facing, and what it felt like to be ostracized for something that was never your fault.”

“With each woman I helped to heal, I knew it would never be enough. That’s when I began to search for kindred souls who saw another need as I did…to help those I healed to find employment. These trusting people helped me by hiring these women and teaching them a skill so that they would be able to forge a new path. Live their lives. Some have been fortunate to have found a man who would love them for who they are despite their shattered past.”

Mary whispered, “O’Shaughnessy has never said the words, but I know that he cares deeply for me.”

“If you could have seen his face when he raced down the hallway toward you, Mary… The man loves you.”

Mary shook her head. “He loves the surcease and release I am able to give him.” She sighed. “I have tried not to, but my battered heart didn’t listen, and I fell in love with him.”

“Did ye now?” a deep voice rumbled from the doorway.

Mary and Michaela both jolted in surprise. While Mary stared at O’Shaughnessy, Michaela rose and walked over to him. “Why don’t you sit down for a few minutes with Mary? Her headache is subsiding, but I did not want to leave her alone for the next twenty-four hours.” The stark expression on his face was all Michaela had to see to know that she was leaving Mary in the hands of the man who truly loved her. “Please excuse me—I need to speak to Mrs. O’Toole.”

When he didn’t move, she slipped her arm through his and gave a slight tug. He glanced down at her and nodded. “I would be honored to sit with Mary. I’ll give a shout if we need you.”

Michaela smiled at the look of adoration on Mary’s face—it mirrored the expression on O’Shaughnessy’s. She stepped over the threshold and closed the door partway, to afford the couple a bit of privacy.

“Nicely done, lass.” O’Malley reached for her hand and tugged her into his arms. “Ye have a caring, romantic heart. ’Tis one of the many things I love about ye.”

Michaela stared into eyes that reflected the depth of his affection for her. “But what about what happened—”

His lips cut off her question. At first she tried to resist, needing him to understand, but was soon lost in the wonder of his desire for her. When he ended the kiss and eased back, she blinked, then whispered, “Emmett, I cannot in good conscience marry you without your knowing the truth and understanding that I am not a virtuous woman.”

His eyes faded from emerald to yellow green. “If by that ye mean that yer virtue was stolen from ye, I’m aware.”

She nodded. “I have no reputation… It was shredded a decade ago.”

“By the man you protected then, and are protecting now.” His voice had a dangerous edge to it. She flinched as if he had struck her. Seeing her distress, O’Malley drew in a breath and softened his tone. “Why did ye not tell yer da what happened? Were ye afraid he would have ordered ye out of yer home?”

She shook her head, anger bubbling bright and hot inside of her at the inference that she was afraid of her father, when that could not be further from the truth. “I am not protecting the man who did this to me!”

He dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back from her. “’Tisn’t how I see it. Ye had no intention of telling me his name, did ye?” When she could not answer him, he fairly growled at her, “Ye’re still trying to protect him.” A wounded expression flashed across his handsome features before it disappeared and the neutral look she was accustomed to returned. “Do ye love him, then?”

Tears slowly trickled from her eyes as the full force of his question hit her like a blow to the solar plexus. She wrapped her arm around her battered ribs to steady herself, looked him in the eye, and rasped, “The truth would ruin my father! He lost everything when Mum died, and he buried himself in his medical practice. The only way I could feel that I had not lost him too was to work alongside him, learning what he knew to help heal others. Without that connection, I would have lost my father, too.”

The light of understanding shone in O’Malley’s eyes. “Yer da failed ye when he shut ye out of his life after ye lost yer mum. Me ma pulled me and me three brothers closer after we lost our da. He was wrongly accused and died in prison, hours before he was due to be released. Exonerated for a trumped-up crime that was never committed. Ma did not push us away—she needed us. Kept us close, speaking of Da often. Reminding us of his laughter, his words, and his deeds until the four of us could see Da in our mind’s eye. He’ll always be in our hearts. Yer ma will always be in yours, lass.”

“With the number of patients that flocked to him after he healed an earl’s ailing mother, Papa needed me, as he did not trust anyone new to help care for his patients. He praised my skill, was proud of me. We worked alongside one another for a few years more, before he began to take note of the fact that time had passed, and I was of marriageable age. That is when he encouraged me to attend a handful of entertainments with the few men he approved of.”

“And how many did ye attend before the unthinkable happened to ye?”

“Just the one.”

He glanced away and then into her eyes. “And then ye hid the truth from yer da.”

“I could not risk his losing the only thing…” Her voice broke. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and finished, “The only thing that mattered to him.”

She was crushed against O’Malley’s chest. His big hand cradled her head, holding it to his heart. “Ye cannot know that, lass. Sure and ye matter more to yer da than his patients.”

Michaela did not bother to answer. She’d already told O’Malley the truth, and he did not believe her. “Where would my father go if his reputation were smeared?”

“Is this what Haversham did to ye after he stole from ye? Threatened ye so ye would not seek reprisal?”

Unable to speak past the emotion clogging her throat, she nodded.

“ Mo chroí, mo ghrá ,” he whispered. “Ye can no longer hide this from yer da. He deserves to know what his retreating from yer life has done to ye. Ye matter to him, lass. Mayhap not in the way ye need him to, but I know that ye matter more to him than ye realize.”

Her eyes burned from crying, adding to the list of all of the other aches and pains bombarding her heart and body right now.

“’Tis why I’ve sent word to yer da,” O’Malley said. “He’s aware that I intend to marry ye tonight. Whether or not he agrees matters not.”

She stared up at him in time to see the tense set of his jaw, the hard look in his eyes. “And if he doesn’t agree and give his blessing?”

“Ye’ve already devoted a decade to saving his reputation by keeping what happened from him. Don’t let his lack of blessing us have ye spending another decade devoting yerself to a man who cares more about himself than he does his only child. The daughter he should have moved heaven and earth to protect.”

All of the fight went out of her. The reason for protecting her father’s reputation, along with the need to keep the name of the man who violated her secret, vanished along with the need to fight to continue to hide the truth from him. O’Malley was right. She should confide what happened, beginning with the two recent abductions.

Then there was the fact that the man who rescued her had already captured her heart when he entered her lodging with an armful of petticoats and two pint-sized moppets clinging to his neck.

The man who stole her virtue had continued stealing far more from innocents than could ever be replaced, while she thought she was doing her part by rescuing other women who’d been cast aside. The crushing knowledge that she may have been able to stop him from continuing to destroy others’ reputations and lives ate at her like a cancer. “I’m to blame—”

“Bloody hell, woman! Ye’re not to blame for Haversham’s twisted proclivities, nor his need to take what was never willingly offered. Ye’ll stop blaming yerself right now!”

Footsteps rapidly approaching had her hiding in O’Malley’s arms. She did not want to face whoever had overheard the Irishman’s rant. Just when she thought the person would leave without speaking, other footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Her head’s as hard as yers,” Garahan grumbled.

Somehow she’d known Garahan would manage to arrive when she was about to deliver a blistering reply to O’Malley. She lifted her head to respond, and could not believe her eyes. Garahan wasn’t alone. The men who enabled her to continue rescuing other young women were standing in a semicircle around them.

Masterson nodded his bandaged head to her and said, “Ah, but her heart is a pure as the angel we know her to be.”

“At times demanding,” Gavin King gruffly added, “but I have long admired her dedication to her cause.”

“As have I,” Captain Coventry said. “You have a gift, Michaela. We are all proud to have had a hand in lending our resources and strength when you have asked for it.”

O’Malley shifted her in his arms until she was tucked tight against his side before he turned so that they were now facing the men.

“’Tis her willingness to walk into danger, despite trying to keep her safe, which is only eclipsed by me wife.” Alasdair Cameron’s eyes were alight with mischief when he asked, “Have ye thought of gagging her, O’Malley?”

Michaela’s mouth hung open, and for a moment she wondered how much longer the men intended to torment her with their compliments. All the while she wondered if they would begin to list her shortcomings next.

O’Malley slid his arm around her waist, steadying her. His support gave her the strength to say, “I cannot help but wonder if my error in judgment is responsible for his—”

“I’m warning ye, wife—” O’Malley growled.

Garahan burst into laughter. “Ye may have asked her to marry ye, but ye aren’t wed yet, boy-o! I came to tell ye the vicar will be arriving in an hour’s time.” He stared at O’Malley and added, “I’m thinking ye’ll want to put on a clean shirt at the very least.”

O’Malley shook his head at his cousin’s jibe and turned to the others. “And the rest of you?”

“We’re here to lend our aid in protecting Michaela,” Masterson said.

“And Aimee,” Garahan added.

“And my wife and our daughter,” Coventry said.

“Hear, hear!” King and Cameron added.

O’Malley shook his head. “Thank ye, men. In return, ye’ve but to ask, and I’ll do whatever ye need. No matter what… No matter where. No matter when.”

“Tremayne and the others are forming the exterior guard, surrounding the town house,” Coventry advised him.

“Findley and Jenkins have already gone over our interior plans with the footmen,” Garahan said.

“The rest of us will be waiting for the bloody bastard to make his move,” King said. “And when he does…”

“We’ll see that he regrets ever laying one finger on me wife,” O’Malley growled.

Garahan smacked a hand to his forehead. “Faith, haven’t I already reminded ye that ye’re not married yet?”

The laughter of the men surrounding her, protecting her, and the other women warmed Michaela’s heart. “I will never be able to thank you enough. Each and every one of you has been instrumental in lending your expertise and aid.” She blinked away her tears. “I can never repay you.”

Cameron stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Ye already have, lass.”

“I need another moment to speak with Michaela,” O’Malley told the men. “I’ll join you in the entryway in a moment.”

Michaela sagged in his arms and said, “If I had told my father what happened years ago, I never would have met and been befriended by the men who have stood beside and behind me in my quest.” Her eyes met O’Malley’s, and she let him see what was in her heart. “I never would have met you. The man who will teach me how to trust with more than my mind… With my heart and my body. Will you promise to be patient with me?”

Desire changed the hue of his eyes to a deep forest green. “Ye have me word, lass.”