Page 11 of The Duke’s Sharpshooter (The Duke’s Guard #14)

F laherty refilled his powder flask and frowned at Eamon O’Malley. “Are ye certain that’s what she heard?”

“Me wife wouldn’t be prevaricating,” his cousin insisted. “Not to me.”

Eamon spat on the whetting stone in his hand and rubbed it in.

“I’m guessing she hasn’t.” He slipped the knife from his boot and drew it over the stone in swift, sure motions, turning the blade over as he sharpened it.

“Abigail is just the right age to be entranced by the fanciful idea of tiny, winged creatures.” He ran his thumb over the edge of the blade, nodding when a thin bead of blood welled up. “Sharp enough.”

Flaherty held out his hand to O’Malley, who tossed him the whetting stone. “Water horses and faery forts, no doubt.”

Eamon grinned. “Helen’s mentioned the picture books in the nursery more than once. At least two books have colorful images of the fae, and most any other mythical creature ye can think of.”

The urge to smile surprised Flaherty. He hadn’t been given to flights of fancy since he was a lad, and then only when Ma rocked him on the nights he could not find his sleep.

She’d alternate between singing lullabies and telling stories of magic and heroes of old.

“Well now, I’m thinking a certain little ray of sunshine may have had something to do with it. ”

O’Malley chuckled. “Miss Maddy.”

“Aye,” Flaherty agreed. “She’s got a way about her, convincing ye to do the opposite of what ye planned.”

“I’m more than familiar with the tactic,” his cousin admitted. “Though I would not have thought too many females knew of it, as it’s a warrior’s tactic.” O’Malley rubbed his chin. “We’d best be on our guard if Her Grace starts getting ideas again.”

Flaherty watched his cousin check his pistol’s ammunition, reminding him again of the time Wyndmere Hall was under attack.

He tucked the memory away, calling up another one from that same year—when the duchess, the duke’s sister, and two of her friends had a twilight tea party on the roof.

He shook his head, mumbling, “Gargoyles and faeries.”

Garahan snorted as he entered the outbuilding where they stored their munitions. “So ye’ve heard?”

O’Malley nodded and Flaherty grunted.

Garahan held out his hand to Flaherty. “I’ll be needing the Kentucky long rifle, as I’ll be riding the perimeter.”

When Flaherty handed it over, Garahan handed him the pistol from his waistband. “Ye might need to put it off for an hour.”

“We’ll need Patrick’s input on the situation,” Garahan warned. “Ye know he doesn’t like when we switch shifts without letting him know ahead of time.”

“Circumstances do not always allow for careful planning. He will have to bend his stiff neck and understand,” Flaherty grumbled.

The door opened and Patrick O’Malley walked in and read the emotion in the room. “I just spoke to His Grace. We’ll be putting off our first shifts to guard Her Grace and her entourage.”

Eamon scrubbed a hand over his face. “How many women this time?”

“Seven,” the head of the duke’s guard replied. “Then there are the children.”

Flaherty shook his head. “Too many women to suit me. Little ones should still be abed.”

Garahan was shaking his head when he asked O’Malley “Have ye spoken to Humphries yet?”

“Aye,” O’Malley replied. “He’s assemblin’ the footmen we’ve trained to take over our shifts.”

“Did Her Grace think we wouldn’t find out about her plans,” Flaherty asked, “or do ye think she is going to try to sneak past us?”

“I’m thinking the second,” Eamon replied.

Garahan mumbled beneath his breath, “Won’t be the first time.”

O’Malley stared at his cousins. He nodded to Garahan, who had the rifle over his shoulder. “Ye’ll take the position on the roof. The paths to the garden are visible. We don’t want any surprise interruptions.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

O’Malley shook his head. “I already know the answer, but I’m askin’ just the same. Any chance yer wife would sleep in?”

Garahan snorted. “Emily would not want to miss the chance to sneak past us.”

“’Tis me feeling about Gwendolyn as well. She’ll have Deidre with her.” He met Eamon’s gaze next. “What about Helen?”

“Our wives have much in common,” Eamon reminded him. “Spines of steel and stubborn wills to match.”

O’Malley tossed up his hands. “How in the bloody hell did the lot of us manage to find such hardheaded wives?”

“’Tis a weakness,” Flaherty said with a grin. “Our das married women just like them.”

“Faith, ye aren’t wrong,” O’Malley admitted. “Eamon, ye’ll be on horseback, on the other side of the back wall of the garden. There are too many paths that lead into the thick woods from that point. Flaherty, ye’re with me.”

Flaherty nodded. “Waiting outside the rear doors to the library.”

“Aye. With three women expecting, we need to be prepared for one of them to swoon.”

“Where will the duke be?” Garahan asked.

“With O’Malley and Flaherty,” the duke announced, stepping into the building. “I will not take a chance that Persephone will stumble, fall, and hit her head.”

Flaherty observed Garahan glancing at Eamon O’Malley, who slowly nodded. He wondered if all pregnant women were prone to swoon like the duchess had been while carrying the twins.

Garahan cleared his throat and said, “We could move into our positions after we’ve safely escorted the women to the garden.”

“Her Grace will be carrying Richard or Abigail,” Eamon added. “Francis will be involved, too. She’ll be carrying the other twin.”

O’Malley muttered, “Gwendolyn will be carrying Deidre.” He turned to stare at Flaherty “That leaves one other little one to be carried.”

“Maddy’s sure-footed,” Flaherty said. “She’ll be walking.”

The duke leveled his gaze on each man in turn. “As much as I prefer to have you patrolling and in positions around the garden to start, I think Garahan’s suggestion has merit.”

“We can have eyes on the women as they sneak out of the nursery,” Flaherty said. “And alert the others.”

“Excellent,” the duke murmured. “Humphries will have the footmen assembled and in positions within the hour. I shall inform him that plans have changed slightly and the footmen are to assume your positions until you relieve them.” With a nod to the men forming in a semicircle around him, the duke exhaled.

“Thank you, men. It isn’t an easy job protecting women who do not believe they need to be. ”

Flaherty grinned. “I think I’ll see if Constance needs me help loading the basket she’ll be filling with scones and faery cakes.” And just like that, the tension broke.

The duke shook his head. “It would be best if she doesn’t realize we know of their plans.”

Flaherty did not hold the same opinion—but once the duke’s mind was made up, he rarely changed it.

An hour later, everyone was in place, ready, and waiting.

*

“Mum? Are you awake?”

Temperance slowly opened her eyes. “Maddy? Do you feel all right?”

“It’s time!”

Temperance was slow to wake up, but one look at her daughter’s glowing smile and eagerness, and she remembered. “The faeries?”

Maddy bounced on her feet, grabbed hold of her mother’s hand, and tugged. “We have to hurry!”

Temperance noticed the wrinkled gown her daughter was wearing had fabric bunched up in spots. “Did you dress yourself?”

“Halfway.”

Temperance wondered who had helped her daughter. “Was Merry here already?”

Maddy shook her head.

“Constance?”

Again she shook her head.

“Who helped you?”

Maddy gave an exaggerated sigh. “Just Flaherty.”

“Why would he help you?”

“’Cause I couldn’t reach my buttons.”

Worry filled Temperance. Flaherty was an unmarried man, and he’d helped her daughter dress herself? “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I tried, Mum.”

Temperance swung her legs to the side of the bed and slowly stood. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I can help you dress first,” Maddy told her.

“I’d have to take my nightrail off first.”

Maddy giggled. “No you don’t.”

“Silly thing. Of course I do. Chemise, then gown. Remember?”

Maddy shook her head, walked over to the side of the cot, and lifted the hem of her gown, showing her mother her nightclothes underneath. “See? My gown’s on top!”

And Temperance did see. She bent down to her daughter’s level and touched the tip of her finger to the end of Maddy’s nose.

She did not have to worry about her daughter being alone with Flaherty.

He was an honorable man, and had probably been aghast at being asked to help Maddy dress. “Who’s idea was that?”

“Just Flaherty’s.”

“I see. Did he ask why you needed to get dressed so early?” Temperance was concerned that the guard would follow them, and she was not certain if the duchess had spoken to him or not. Hadn’t Persephone mentioned sneaking past her husband’s guard?

Maddy nodded.

“What did you tell him?”

“That it was a secret. Was that right, Mum?”

Temperance opened her arms, and Maddy threw her arms around her mother’s neck. “Yes. Mayhap I should put my gown over my nightrail, too.”

Her daughter was vibrating with excitement. “Hurry, Mum!”

It was a snug fit, but Temperance managed to pull her gown over her nightclothes. “Do I have time to put my hair up?”

“Can you walk at the same time?”

Temperance snorted, then covered her mouth with her hands, while Maddy giggled.

“Try, Mum. We have to go!”

Rather than risk Maddy raising her voice again, Temperance decided to tidy her braid instead.

Untying the ribbon, she unwound the bottom half of her braid, smoothed it out, re-braided it, and tossed it over her shoulder.

She held out her hand to her daughter, and they tiptoed to the door, carefully looked from one end of the deserted hallway to the other, and rushed toward the kitchen.

Constance was waiting for them. From the fit of her gown, Temperance suspected that she, too, had pulled her clothes on over her night things. Relaxing, Temperance offered to carry the basket.