Page 11 of The Duke’s Rapier (The Duke’s Guard #10)

C aroline and Melanie were hitching the horse up to their carriage when the sound of hoofbeats pounding up the road reached them.

“Who is in such a hurry that they would gallop through the village?” Melanie asked.

“Someone on urgent business, no doubt,” Caroline answered.

“Come on!” Melanie grabbed Caroline’s hand and tugged her along as she raced toward the back of the house. “Hurry!”

Caroline straightened her skirts and brushed a wayward curl off her nose. There was no point in re-pinning the loose knot at the nape of her neck—it would only come undone the next time her cousin grabbed hold of her and dashed about.

The sound of a heavy hand pounding on the front door reverberated through the house.

“O’Ghill,” they heard the vicar say. “What brings you here this morning?”

Melanie and Caroline moved swiftly, skirting the kitchen table as they went toward the front of the house.

“Orders from the baron—’tis in his missive. I’ve already delivered a missive to Mr. Stanbridge and will be delivering one more to Mr. Coleman as well. If ye have any questions, ye can find me at the smithy, where I’ll be working for the foreseeable future.”

Melanie’s fingers tightened around Caroline’s wrist. “Mr. Stanbridge?” she whispered. “What on earth does the baron want with him? He has three sons who won’t need protection.”

“I have no idea,” Caroline whispered back. “I only met their son Lyman a few times during my last visit when you introduced him to me.”

Melanie glared at her. “I am quite certain the missive has nothing to do with him.” She paused. “Why do you suppose O’Ghill will be working for the smithy, when it sounded last night as if he would be working with the duke’s guard?”

Caroline shook her head.

Melanie held a finger to her lips as they crept closer to the parlor. She had yet to let go of Caroline, who stumbled behind her.

O’Ghill’s head lifted at the sound, and his gaze riveted on Melanie, then swung to Caroline, but he did not speak to either of them. He nodded to the vicar, then turned and mounted his horse to continue to the smithy a short distance up the road.

“Before either of you decide to investigate or eavesdrop on the missive O’Ghill was going to deliver to Mr. Coleman, I suggest you have a seat.” The vicar pointed to the settee, waiting for his daughter and Caroline to be seated. “Josephine!”

“Coming, Bertram.” His wife descended the staircase and asked, “Who was that at the door?”

“O’Ghill with a message from Baron Summerfield.”

She frowned. “Well, what does it say?”

“I was waiting for the three of you to have a seat before I opened it, my dear.”

“That was considerate of you.” Aunt Josephine sat and waited for her husband to break the wax seal.

“Apparently the baron has sent O’Ghill with a note for Coleman, and me, indicating that O’Ghill and another will be protecting you. That is, until I relent and send you to Summerfield Chase until the danger is over.”

“Who else will be protecting us, dear?”

“My guess would be Stanbridge’s eldest son—he is a crack shot.”

Melanie sagged against Caroline, who put her arm around her cousin. Her uncle took note of his daughter’s reaction and frowned. “Wasn’t Lyman Stanbridge the young man you spoke of night and day for an entire fortnight?”

“Papa!”

“Well, daughter?”

Melanie’s sigh sounded put upon to Caroline, though she would never say as much.

“I may have mentioned his name a time or two,” Melanie admitted.

“More like ten times a day,” her mother said.

“Now, Mum—”

“Enough,” the vicar said. “We have more important matters at hand than whether or not the young man in question—who did not show himself at our door to escort you to the harvest dance and left you in tears, refusing to attend without him—is now one of your protectors.”

Caroline patted her cousin on the shoulder. “You aren’t the only one he is charged with protecting, is she, Uncle?”

He nodded. “Correct. He and O’Ghill will divide their duties protecting the four of you. I would suggest you listen and do whatever they ask of you.”

“What exactly do you think they will ask of us, my dear?” his wife asked.

“Most likely their first order will be to insist that you, our daughter, and our niece are not to leave this house unescorted.”

“I see. When do you suppose that order will take place?”

“Immediately. Why do you ask?”

“Really, Bertram. Did you not hear me mention Melanie and Caroline will be helping me deliver care baskets to those in need this morning?”

Caroline noted her uncle’s momentary confusion before he sighed. “It slipped my mind, given all that has happened since you mentioned it yesterday.”

“Well, if we are to deliver all of the baskets in time for us to return and prepare the midday meal, we must leave in the next few minutes.”

“Not without your escort.”

“O’Ghill said he would be back, Papa,” Melanie put in.

Caroline disagreed. “He said he would be at the smithy if Uncle needed him.”

“That settles it, then,” Aunt Josephine said cheerfully. “Have you hitched the horse to the carriage?”

“We have,” Melanie answered.

“It is a lovely day, though it may be cooler riding in the carriage. Why don’t you two fetch a shawl?” Turning to her husband, Aunt Josephine said, “We shall see you later, my dear.” She motioned them toward the stairs, and they rushed to do her bidding. A few moments later, Melanie and Caroline returned with their wraps and headed to the back door.

“Mum, are you certain we should be leaving?” Melanie asked as she got into the carriage.

“Really, Melanie,” her mother admonished her. “Such things should be left up to your father.” The distinct sound of the front door opening and shutting reached them as they settled into the carriage. Aunt Josephine took the reins and smiled. “That will have been your father leaving to head to the smithy, no doubt to speak with O’Ghill.”

They had just pulled up in front of their first stop on their list when the sound of hoofbeats pounded toward them. The vicar’s wife smiled. “I expected O’Ghill a mile or so ago. No matter,” she said. “He is just in time to help us deliver the baskets.”

She turned and beamed at the frowning O’Ghill. “You are right on time, Mr. O’Ghill—we would appreciate your help making our deliveries.”

Caroline noticed that O’Ghill ignored Melanie and her, but not her aunt, who was still smiling as she handed the heavy baskets to him. “I trust that the Stanbridge boy is guarding Olivia this morning,” she said.

“Aye.”

From his one-word answer, Caroline knew he was frustrated with them already.

“Will you be switching assignments tomorrow, sending the Stanbridge boy to guard us?”

O’Ghill grumbled, “I only just delivered the missive, Mrs. Chessy, when the vicar alerted me to the fact that the three of ye had left the vicarage without protection.”

Caroline wondered how her aunt would handle the situation and had to bite her lip to keep from giggling when Aunt Josephine batted her eyelashes at O’Ghill and said, “I do apologize, but Bertram must have forgotten to advise that we had made plans to deliver the first load of baskets to those of our congregation that are in need. They all have little ones who will go hungry without our assistance.”

O’Ghill’s dark eyes widened. “I would never stop ye from doing yer good deeds, Mrs. Chessy, just ask that ye tell me in the future what yer plans are, so I can make certain ye’ll be well protected.”

“Of course,” she agreed. “Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight? Afterward, we can go over our plans for the week.”

Caroline noted O’Ghill glancing at her cousin out of the corner of his eye before nodding. “Thank ye for the invitation. I’d be delighted.”

All things considered, Caroline was relieved that her aunt had handled O’Ghill in such a way that he was obliged to offer his assistance for such a worthy cause and had not felt compelled to chastise them…especially Aunt Josephine.

Baskets in hand, they approached the first house on the list of many.