Page 22 of The Duke’s Man-At-Arms (The Duke’s Guard #11)

“W ell now, I’d say that was a man who was quite pleased with himself.”

Michaela felt her face flush. “I, uh… I believe so.”

Mrs. O’Toole filled Michaela’s cup and one for herself and sat beside her. “I know O’Malley treated you well, and from the blush on your cheeks, he treated you as the precious woman you are. He did not hurt you, did he?”

Michaela was not certain why the other woman was so concerned, and immediately worried that her past was not as secret as she had thought it to be.

Before she would ask, the cook said, “When a woman waits until she is well above marriageable age to wed, there are a number of reasons. But no matter her age or status in life, I have always been ready to lend an ear and mayhap a tidbit or two of advice from the years I was fortunate enough to be married to Mr. O’Toole. So, I’ll ask again, and not because I am prying, but because I can see from the glow on your face that you are happy. Is there anything you would like to ask me about this morning?”

As she sipped, Michaela did think of one question. “I never expected to marry, and was wondering if it is common for a husband to take his time, with…er… things ?”

Mrs. O’Toole patted her hand. “Any man worth his salt will. A marriage is stronger when you and your husband have trusted three things into one another’s care.”

Michaela set her teacup on its saucer. “What would those be?”

“Your heart, your mind, and your body.”

“My mum died long before she could talk to me about what happens in the marriage bed…or marriage itself, for that matter.”

“I know O’Malley better than I know the others, all of whom who have been stationed here when the duke’s guard formed—but he has been stationed here longer than them. I can promise that if you have opened your heart to him, he will guard it with his life, always. His Grace was fortunate the day he asked Patrick O’Malley if he had any family, or knew of any other trustworthy men looking for work in London.”

“I haven’t met Emmett’s brothers yet,” Michaela told her. “I have met two of his cousins, James and Darby Garahan.”

“All of the men in the duke’s guard are strong, trustworthy, and would give their lives to protect the duke and his family. Once the men marry, they have vowed to do the same for their wives.”

“Mrs. O’Toole?” Miranda said, entering.

“Good morning, Miranda, good morning, Emma. Is something wrong with Aimee?”

“Just a little morning sickness. Do you have a bit of day-old bread that I could bring up to her? I made Aimee promise to lie in bed until I could bring her something to sop up the bile in her belly.”

Mrs. O’Toole beamed with pleasure. “Of course. I always keep it on hand for upset stomachs, and for those times when their ladyships were expecting, and going to be staying in London.” She rose from the table and began to prepare a tray.

“Good morning, Michaela,” Miranda said. “Did you sleep well?”

Michaela choked on the sip of tea she had just swallowed and noticed Miranda’s eyes danced with merriment.

“I’ll take that as a yes and trust that all is well. Was that O’Malley I heard whistling earlier?”

Michaela felt it was better to keep her thoughts to herself while little ears were present. “I have had two cups of tea already,” she said. “Why don’t I bring Aimee something to settle her stomach while you and Emma sit with Mrs. O’Toole and have a bite to eat?”

“Have you had experience with expectant mothers?”

“A number of them,” Michaela replied. She did not bother to add that most had been victims, like herself and Aimee. “Enjoy a chat with Mrs. O’Toole. I’ll return after I’ve ensured Aimee is feeling well enough to rise.”

“Thank you.” Miranda sighed. “I remember those first few months quite well, and do not envy Aimee just entering that time when all manner of odors, at any given time, could cause a stomach upset.”

Michaela had no idea if that was true—not one of the few friends she had had would have anything to do with her once she began devoting her time to working alongside her father in his surgery. After what happened the one time she bowed to her father’s edict and attended that ball, they did not give her the cut direct, but something far worse—they cut her out of their lives completely, as if she never existed.

“My experience is limited to the few patients I have had over the years. Not all of them were in as good a situation as Aimee.”

“Here you are, Michaela.” Mrs. O’Toole handed her a small tray. “Instead of a pot, I have a cup of weak tea for Aimee—no cream, no sugar—and two pieces of dry bread. Be careful going up the stairs carrying that, and be sure she eats both pieces slowly and chews thoroughly.”

“I will. Thank you, Mrs. O’Toole. I shall return to help in the kitchen. After all, you have many more mouths to feed.”

Taking the tray to Aimee, Michaela could hear feminine voices and little-girl squeals of pleasure and wondered if one of the duke’s guard, or mayhap one of Coventry’s men, had walked into the kitchen from the main part of the house. From what she observed, Emma reacted like that when some of her favorite guards stopped in on their rounds.

Setting those thoughts aside, Michaela continued toward the stairs—after all, she had a patient waiting for her. A woman who would understand what she was feeling and thinking the morning after she’d wed O’Malley. Though Aimee had not spent the last decade of her life never expecting to marry at all… Michaela recalled it had been at least five years since Aimee’s intended unceremoniously deposited her at an inn—without her portmanteau, shawl, or reticule.

She took her time ascending the stairs, and realized she had completely forgotten—and so had Emmett—to immobilize her arm using the sling. She would stop by the room she was sharing with her husband on her way back down to the kitchen.

She knocked on the door and heard a soft moan. “Aimee? It’s Michaela—may I come in?”

Her friend mumbled a reply that Michaela could not quite hear, so she carefully opened the door and stuck her head into the room in time to hear Aimee ask, “Why did no one tell me carrying a babe would have my stomach turn upside down every morning?”

“Whom did you ask?” Michaela didn’t wait for Aimee to invite her inside. It was clear the woman felt poorly and wouldn’t think to do so. She closed the door behind her and set the small tray on a table by the window.

Aimee blew out a breath. “No one. There wasn’t anyone to ask.”

“What about Miranda? Did you ask her?”

“I have only known her for a few weeks, and though we have become friends, our circumstances are very different from what you and I share.”

“That is true, and why I offered to bring your tray up. I was hoping I could speak to you and ask your advice.” She handed Aimee the small plate with a day-old bread on it. “Mrs. O’Toole said she always keeps dried bread on hand for upset stomachs, and their ladyships when they were expecting. Nibble it slowly, and chew carefully.”

Aimee did as she was told and sighed after a few bites. “What would you like to know?”

“Were you er…hesitant when you knew you had to seal your vows?”

Aimee nodded and took another small bite, chewing slowly. “I believe terrified would be a better description.”

“And was Darby patient with you?”

“Very. I’m a lucky woman, Michaela. I never thought to have the chance to marry, nor was I certain I wanted to…until Darby rescued me. I certainly never gave a thought to having a family. I’m still growing accustomed to being married.” Aimee stared off in the distance. “There is so much I could say about Darby and the challenges and changes I have experienced. If I had to put it into a few words… He saved me.”

Tears pricked the back of Michaela’s eyes. “That is the heart of what our husbands have done for us, isn’t it? I’ve been holding my fear inside of me for longer than you have, and I confess, I was not quite certain how else to keep the nightmares from happening during the day, taking over my life. It was so hard to be brave last night. But Emmett…”

The understanding in Aimee’s gaze gave Michaela the courage to continue discussing a topic that would be frowned upon in normal circles. But she and Aimee were different. They had suffered greatly at the hands of a monster who took something precious from them and then tried to destroy them. “Emmett took his time and explained what he was going to do.”

Aimee nodded, then asked, “Did he promise to stop if you needed him to?”

“He did, but once he started…”

“You did not need or want him to.”

“I do not deserve him, Aimee.” Tears welled in Michaela’s eyes and she blinked, but a few escaped before she could hold the rest of them at bay.

Aimee patted the bed next to her. When Michaela sat down, her friend asked, “Where is your sling?”

“I forgot about it this morning.”

“I would have, too,” Aimee admitted. “But I am sure Darby has a spare cravat lying around. I can fix you up. Now then, we’ll need to get you something else to wear so you do not get any food stains on your lovely gown. Mrs. Wigglesworth showed me the closet in the dressing room next to Their Graces’ bedchamber, knowing you would need to change.”

“Thank you, and thank Mrs. Wigglesworth. After you eat, you can show me and help me fasten the buttons.” Michaela waited a beat and asked, “How did you know I offered to help Mrs. O’Toole?”

“Darby mentioned it when he came to check up on me after he made sure O’Malley wasn’t still lying abed.”

“I noticed that he did seem a bit insistent and grumpy.”

Aimee’s smile broadened. “I think he would stay abed until midmorning if he could. Darby also mentioned that Miranda and Emma were planning to help, too. I think we’ll need to divide our duties between helping with the cooking and mayhap even the bedchambers until the two additional maids arrive.”

“I didn’t realize His Grace was hiring on two maids.”

“Darby said it is what they do whenever Lady Aurelia or Lady Calliope arrive for a visit.”

“That would make sense,” Michaela replied.

“In the meantime, we can divide and conquer,” Aimee said. “With your arm and rib injuries, you should not do any heavy lifting until you heal.”

Michaela harumphed. “And you are not to lift anything heavy until after your babe is born.”

“Do not be ridiculous,” Aimee grumbled.

“You do want a healthy babe, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then you will take my advice and rest when you feel tired, and put your feet up when you are resting.”

“Anything else?” Aimee asked.

“Let your husband coddle you. Eat when you are hungry, and don’t hold in any fears or worries. It isn’t good for you or the babe you are carrying.”

Aimee frowned. “That is an awful lot to remember, Michaela.”

“I’ll let Darby know, too. That way, he can remember what you need, and do the worrying for you, while you concentrate on eating when you are hungry, putting your feet up when you are resting, and resting whenever you are tired.”

Aimee smiled. “Have I told you lately how very grateful I am for your friendship and helping me put my past behind me?”

“A time or two. You have helped me begin to make peace with my own past. I had not realized how much of it I carried with me until you shared your story, which is so close to my own. When Haversham abducted me, it swept me back into the darkness I needed to let go of.”

“How did we ever find ourselves married to such honorable, stubborn, strong, handsome, hardheaded men?”

Michaela laughed. “Because the good Lord heard our prayers and gave us a second chance.” Seeing that Aimee’s plate was empty, she said, “If you are up to it, I’ll help you dress and then you can show me where the dressing room is. I’d like to change out of this lovely gown. I’d hate to spill anything on it.”

Aimee smiled, got out of bed, and chatted companionably while Michaela helped her to dress. It took little time to settle on an appropriate gown to wear. By the time she had changed, raised voices once again echoed up from the entryway.

Michaela sighed. “That will be my father.” She draped the cream-colored gown over the fainting couch as Aimee put a hand to her arm.

“Let Jenkins handle the situation. One of the guards will have alerted O’Malley, if he didn’t already see your father step down from his carriage.”

“I suppose, but you see…”

“You are a married woman now, Michaela. Let O’Malley protect you. I can guarantee after he speaks to your father, he will have calmed down and be ready to see reason and rein in his temper.”

“I would not count on it.”

By the time they returned to the room Aimee and Darby were staying in to retrieve the tray, Aimee appeared steadier.

The heavy knock on the door meant it was either Garahan or O’Malley.

“Aimee, ’tis O’Malley—is me wife still visiting with ye?”

“Yes. Please come in.”

The door opened slowly, and the frown lines on O’Malley’s face disappeared as he smiled. “Well now, don’t the two of ye look thick as thieves? What have ye been plotting while the rest of us have been protecting the perimeter and soothing a worried father-in-law’s fears?”

“I’ve been explaining a bit of what Aimee can expect to be feeling in the months ahead and cautioning her to rest and eat well, among other things. I have a list of things Garahan needs to be aware of. Mayhap I should write it down for him.”

O’Malley agreed. “Ye might want to make two lists—he’s been distracted as of late and may misplace the one ye give him.”

When her husband smiled at her, Michaela felt butterflies in her belly. “Er, yes. That is a fine idea.”

O’Malley turned and studied Aimee. “Are ye still feeling poorly?”

“I feel much better. Michaela brought up Mrs. O’Toole’s cure.”

“And what would that be?” O’Malley asked the question of Aimee but was staring at Michaela.

Aimee answered, but Michaela was not certain her husband had heard. She prodded him. “Was there something you wished to ask me, husband?”

He grinned. “Aye, but we aren’t alone, so it will have to wait.”

Michaela’s face flamed and Aimee laughed delightedly. “It looks so good on the two of you.”

“What does?” O’Malley asked.

“Love,” Aimee answered.

The look of pride on O’Malley’s face had Michaela wondering what he was thinking. He distracted her by saying, “Yer da stopped by.”

“We heard. I’d best go and speak to him.” Michaela moved to walk around her husband, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“No need. He’ll be back to speak with ye at teatime, as was suggested to him last night by Coventry…or mayhap it was King.”

“I see—and did he have anything to say to you?”

O’Malley grinned. “Aye, but once I explained his error in judgment…” He did not need to say another word. Michaela knew he referred to her father’s urging her to accept an invitation from Lord Haversham and the disastrous events that followed.

“Thank you, Emmett.”

“Ye’re welcome, lass. Why don’t the two of ye stay put for the next half an hour? It’s a bit chaotic in the kitchen right now.”

“Why didn’t Mrs. O’Toole send for me?” Michaela asked. “I offered to help her.”

“I’m thinking she has far too much help at the moment, and all from a pint-sized female with a smile that would melt even the coldest heart.”

Michaela’s warmed at her husband’s description of little Emma Coventry. So grown up for her age, with her father’s temperament and frown, and her mother’s smile. “I think we’d best stay put for a little longer, then.”

O’Malley slipped his arm around her waist, led her over to the bed, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m thinking Mrs. O’Toole will be needing a pot of tea, a few of her scones, and mayhap someone to slice vegetables to add to the stock pot on the stovetop. She’s promised a hearty stew for supper.”

“What about teatime?” Aimee asked, then fell silent.

“’Tis a good thing that yer appetite has returned, lass. It’ll ease Darby’s mind when I tell him.”

“Did you hear anything about what she plans to bake for teatime?” Michaela asked, understanding that Aimee really did need to know.

“There are two pans of gingerbread cooling on the sideboard and two more batches of scones that are all different shapes and sizes. Emma helped with the baking and they’re, surprisingly, cooked to perfection. I sampled one or two meself just now.”

“How is Miranda holding up?” Aimee asked.

“She was all smiles and delighted to be discussing meal ideas with Mrs. O’Toole just now.”

“What about Emma?” Michaela asked.

“Mrs. Wigglesworth took her into the cozy sitting room that overlooks the gardens. They were going to read stories.”

“Mrs. O’Toole and Mrs. Wigglesworth are treasures,” Michaela said. “They remind me of my mum.”

“Both women would be fast friends with me own ma,” O’Malley said. His gaze locked on hers. “She’ll love ye, lass. Why don’t ye write Ma a letter? I’ll add it to the one I’m sending home in a fortnight.”

“Are you certain you don’t want to send it sooner?”

“Nay, I’ll be including a portion of me pay in with our letters.”

“Do you do that often?” Michaela asked.

“Write home? Aye.”

“And send your pay?” Michaela asked.

“Aye, all of us send equal amounts home. We almost lost the farm a number of years ago. ’Tis why the four of us left to seek employment in London.”

“But then who keeps the farm running? It must be a lot of work for your mum,” Aimee said, asking the question Michaela was about to.

“Our three younger sisters married and stayed on the farm. Over the last few years they’ve added a cottage or two on the property so the lot of them aren’t living on top of one another.”

Michaela could just imagine how wonderful it would be living on a farm with sisters and brothers-in-law…if she had had sisters. “It sounds wonderful.”

“Aye, it can be. But me brothers and I have grown accustomed to serving the duke and his family. We’re able to use our skills. We’ve talked about going home to visit Ma in shifts. We’ll have to arrange the time carefully so His Grace and his family are well protected.”

Miranda smiled. “I think your mum would love that.”

“Aye, that she would, lass. She has four granddaughters now.”

Michaela said, “Well then, you and your brothers ought to start making plans to bring them to visit your mum.”

“That we will…after we settle the current issue we’re dealing with.” One more kiss, one that stole her breath, then O’Malley reminded them to wait half an hour before heading down to the kitchen, nodded, and left.

“Do Darby’s married brothers have any children?” Michaela asked.

Aimee smiled. “James and Melinda have twins, a boy and a girl. Ryan and Prudence are expecting, and soon, if I’m remembering correctly.”

A short while later, Aimee and Michaela walked toward the servants’ staircase. This time, Aimee carried the tray, since she’d found a cravat and fashioned a sling for Michaela.

“I won’t be as much help with my arm in a sling,” Michaela grumbled.

“How else will you heal if you do not follow O’Malley’s orders? If I were the one injured, would you insist I keep my arm in a sling?”

Michaela fell silent as they descended the stairs to the lower level.

“Well?” Aimee prodded.

“Yes,” Michaela admitted. “I would.”

“I thought so. Now let’s see what we can accomplish before teatime, when your father comes back to speak to you.”

Michaela dreaded that meeting, but did not say so out loud. There was work to be done beforehand, and she intended to help as much as she was able.