Page 13 of The Duke’s Sharpshooter (The Duke’s Guard #14)

T he Duke of Wyndmere entered the outbuilding his men used for their bare-knuckle bouts to keep their skills sharp. “Where is the prisoner?”

O’Malley tipped his head toward the back corner of the large room, where a young man stood with his hands tied behind his back and his chin resting against his chest. “He’s not talkin’.”

The duke strode over to the prisoner. “State your name and reason for skulking around my family’s home at this hour of the morning!”

The man did not raise his head, nor utter a sound.

“Very well. I shall leave it to my men to extract the information from you.” The duke started to walk away, paused, and said, “They have a variety of methods, and I should warn you that they are bare-knuckle champions back home in Ireland.”

The sharp intake of breath pleased him, but he did not plan to stay to question the prisoner.

It was far more effective for his private guard to do so.

Let the rumors continue to abound—the more people who knew that he had a well-trained force guarding himself and his family, the better.

“Let me know when you have the information, O’Malley. ”

“Aye, Yer Grace.”

When the door closed, Flaherty, Garahan, and Eamon O’Malley stalked over to stand in a semicircle in front of the man. Garahan spoke first. “Now then, we’ll only be asking once more.”

“State yer name,” Flaherty said.

“And why ye’re here,” Eamon added.

O’Malley crossed his arms in front of his chest, and as if on cue, Garahan, Eamon O’Malley, and Flaherty did the same. Every one of them were a full head taller than the man they stared at. Judging by how quickly the man’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, their bid to intimidate him was working.

“Name’s Greene.”

“Who sent ye, Greene?” Patrick asked.

“She did.”

“She who?” Garahan grumbled.

The wild look on Greene’s face was a surprise. He shook his head and clenched his teeth.

“Well now,” Garahan mused, “if he won’t tell us who sent him, we’ll have no choice but to begin extracting information.” When no one objected, he continued, “I’ll start with me right cross.”

Eamon spoke next. “I’ll be showing off me uppercut.”

Flaherty grumbled, “Ye know it’s me favorite punch. Now I’ll have to pick another.” When Eamon O’Malley shrugged, Flaherty said, “I’ll be using me jab.”

“Right or left?” Garahan asked.

Flaherty felt a wave of satisfaction build as it warmed his chest. “Both.”

“Well then I’ll be wanting to deliver two blows,” Garahan said.

“Two for each of us,” Eamon stated.

Flaherty was proud of his cousins. Every one of them made a show of ignoring the prisoner, when in fact they were highly attuned to the way the man’s breathing became more shallow by the moment.

When beads of sweat trickled down the sides of the man’s face, Flaherty knew the prisoner would be telling them who’d ordered him to spy at Wyndmere Hall.

Anyone who lived in the village and had not heard of the duke’s guard’s skills was either living under a rock or daft altogether!

“Her brother will kill me.”

“Killing’s a sin and a crime,” Garahan said. “Best tell us who she is.”

Greene’s expression was telling—he was either protecting whoever had ordered him to spy on the duke’s household, or he’d been bribed, mayhap threatened.

“Which is it?” Flaherty asked.

“What?” Greene looked perplexed.

“Are ye being bribed?” Flaherty asked. “Or threatened?”

O’Malley took one step closer, cracked his knuckles, and slipped out of his frockcoat. “I’m done talkin’.”

“M-M-Miss H-H-Harkness.”

Flaherty could not believe it. “Is the innkeeper’s sister bribing or threatening ye?”

The younger man flushed, and Flaherty wondered if he was younger than they’d pegged him to be. There was only one reason a young man would blush at the mention of a woman’s name.

“’Tis a bribe, I’m thinking.”

Garahan glanced at him and nodded. “Aye.”

Eamon stared at Greene, rubbed his chin, and shook his head. A look of disgust flashed on his face. “She did not offer ye coin, did she?”

Greene’s mouth opened and closed, but only a squeak emerged. He did not have to answer when his reaction spoke louder than words.

O’Malley grabbed the front of Greene’s frockcoat and lifted him off the ground, shaking hard enough to rattle the man’s brainbox. “Ye’ll tell me now, or I’ll deliver the first blow we promised.”

“No coin.” Greene swallowed audibly. “She promised me favors.”

O’Malley set him on his feet, but did not let go of the man’s collar. “Did she now? Ye aren’t thinkin’ to prevaricate, are ye?”

Greene held up both hands. “Nay. She sent me a message to meet her behind the stables at midnight.”

When he paused, Garahan urged, “And?”

“Said she’d make it worth my while, if I rode out here to see if the rumors were true that the black-haired strumpet and the little girl she kidnapped were hiding out at Wyndmere Hall.”

O’Malley let go of the man and eased back just in time for Flaherty to push forward. He was incensed on Temperance’s behalf. The way Greene’s voice modulated to imply that she was a woman of low morals and a kidnapper scraped his gut raw. No one would insult the lass or impugn her honor!

Flaherty connected with a solid jab to Greene’s throat. The man crumpled at his feet. He drew back his leg to kick Greene, but Eamon shoved him off balance. Flaherty stumbled, but managed to keep from falling on his face. “’Tis me right to avenge the lass’s good name.”

“Aye. Though now we won’t be getting’ him to tell us anythin’ more about his arrangement with Harkness’s sister,” O’Malley reminded him. “Get a bucket of water and rouse him.”

The order effectively stopped Flaherty, who dropped his fist. Though he nearly hauled off and punched Eamon for trying to trip him.

“Save it,” O’Malley warned. “Eamon will feel obligated to retaliate, which would have ye sharing barbs, then blows, if either of ye makes another comment. Remember Her Grace’s delicate condition and our promise to His Grace.”

Garahan agreed. “We know ye’ve feelings for the lass.

Didn’t I help ye question half the people in the inn who were there to witness the innkeeper’s sister blatantly ignoring the lass and Maddy when they’d been waiting for her to take their order?

” When Flaherty grunted, Garahan continued, “But that doesn’t mean ye can put an end to the questioning before we get all of the information we need. ”

“He slandered Temperance’s good name—”

Before Flaherty could work up a head of steam, he realized he’d let his emotions interfere with his duties.

Bloody hell! That had never happened to him before.

He’d watched his cousins lose their heads a time or two whenever an off-handed comment was made about the women who later became their wives…

and rightly so. But this was different. It wasn’t just the horrible slur against Temperance’s character, it was the suggestion that she’d kidnapped Maddy!

The last thing he wanted was for the wee lass to overhear such comments and begin to question whether Temperance was her ma.

“And ye know His Grace prefers that we each land one punch—not two, nor three, nor more—to encourage Greene to tell us all he knows,” O’Malley reminded him.

Flaherty grunted and locked gazes with O’Malley. “I’ve delivered me punch. I’m going to the inn.”

“Ye’ll not be going anywhere,” O’Malley warned. “’Tis yer turn on the rooftop.”

“But I…” Flaherty fell silent. How could he tell his cousin that he’d fallen arse over head in love with the black-haired lass and her pixie of a daughter?

Before he could form the words, O’Malley gave a slight nod. “So that’s the way of it?”

“’Tisn’t like that,” Flaherty began, only to stop when his cousin raised his hand. As the head of their guard, every man deferred to O’Malley, who used the gesture exclusively when he had something to say.

“Ye don’t have to explain,” his cousin told him. “As Garahan said, we all noticed.” All of the pent-up emotion fizzled out of Flaherty, as O’Malley continued, “Ye’d best get over whatever ails ye. We’ve no time to waste trying to rein in yer volatile temper.”

“Aye,” Garahan agreed, nudging Greene with the toe of his boot. “What’ll we do with him?”

“Same thing we’ve done with other prisoners,” Patrick replied. “We’ll ask two footmen to stand guard while the rest of ye return to yer posts. I need to speak to His Grace.” He turned his green-eyed gaze on Flaherty. “Ye’ll come with me to tell the duke what happened.”

Flaherty grunted. “Ye just told me to man me station on the rooftop.”

O’Malley narrowed his eyes, and Flaherty clenched his jaw. O’Malley had guessed correctly—Flaherty’s heart was taken. “Changed me mind.”

Flaherty tried one last time. “I’m asking ye to send me to the inn to speak to Miss Harkness.”

O’Malley stared at him until Flaherty could swear he felt the man’s fingers sorting through his thoughts. “I’ll suggest that ye be the one to go, but ’twill be up to His Grace.”

Satisfied that he’d made his request, and his cousin would present it to the duke, Flaherty followed O’Malley to the house.

Neither one spoke as they covered the distance.

At the rear door to the building, O’Malley put his hand on Flaherty’s shoulder.

“I’ve been in yer shoes, torn between duty and finding the other half of me heart.

I nearly lost Gwendolyn because I didn’t think I could honor me vow to the duke and the one I wanted to say before the vicar when I married her. ”

Surprised by his cousin’s admission, Flaherty told him what he’d already decided: “I’m not certain it’s balancing me duty to His Grace and the one to me heart that’s needed.

But I’m telling ye, I’ll not be letting Maddy or her ma leave without telling them what’s in me heart.

” He cleared his throat to add, “If Temperance will have me, I’ll marry her and be da to Maddy. ”