Page 19 of The Duke’s Sharpshooter (The Duke’s Guard #14)

F laherty and Garahan reined in at Wyndmere Hall to shouts and chaos. “What in the bloody hell is going on?” Flaherty demanded.

One of the tenant farmers stopped mid-stride. “’Tis the little lass—she’s gone missing.”

Flaherty frowned. “Abigail?”

“Deidre?” Garahan asked at the same time.

Patrick O’Malley paused in the middle of organizing the search parties. “’Tis Miss Maddy.”

For the first time in his life, Flaherty understood the saying about one’s blood running cold. His mind whirled with questions he needed to ask, but he could not make his mouth work. The cold was debilitating.

“What in the feck is wrong with ye, Flaherty?” O’Malley asked. “Move yer arse and take charge of the tenant farmers. They’ll be searching to the south.”

Eyes blazing, a tearing pain in his heart, Flaherty sprinted to the back door. Calling her name as he yanked it open, he nearly plowed into Temperance. “What happened? How long has she been gone?”

“We were having tea upstairs when I noticed she was quiet. I carried her to the room we have been using and tucked her in and lay beside her.” Tears streamed from her eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice. “It’s all my fault. I should never have closed my eyes.”

Flaherty grabbed hold of her upper arms. “How long ago?”

“But don’t you see—”

“Aye, lass. I do. Ye’re worried sick, but ye need to snap out of it and tell me, was it one hour? Two? Three?”

Her voice was just above a whisper. “Two.” She curled her hands into the lapels of his frockcoat. “Please help me find my little girl! You don’t understand—”

Flaherty needed her cooperation, not conversation! He slid a hand to her waist, the other behind her head, and molded his mouth to hers to shut her up. It was a kiss of frustration. Fear. Promise. “I’ll find her. Ye need to stay here in case she returns from having a lark, looking for the fae.”

“Flaherty?”

He did not have time for this, but he spun around. Walking backward to the door, he growled. “What?”

“If she’s lost, she’ll be waiting for you to find her. She trusts you.”

His resolve clicked into place. “Ye should too.” He stalked outside and shook his head at O’Malley. “No time. The wee cailín ’s counting on me to find her.”

“Ye’re heading the wrong way!” Patrick shouted.

“The meadow filled with flowers is to the north. Send someone else to the south with the tenant farmers.” Flaherty turned to the men waiting, pleased it was the Jones brothers on horseback and their eldest sons on foot.

They could handle rifles and pistols and had fought bravely when Wyndmere Hall was under attack.

Farmers were used to finding stray sheep and a cow or two. “Ye know the meadow I’m meaning?”

Samuel Jones nodded. “Aye.”

“Our daughters pick wildflowers for the duchess in that field,” his younger brother Silas added.

Flaherty gave a nod. “I’m thinking two on horseback leading the way, two on foot behind them, while I bring up the rear. There’s a chance the wee lass has tripped and bumped her head, or climbed a tree and got stuck.”

“Why do ye think she’s headed to the meadow?” Samuel’s son asked.

“Earlier this morning we were in the gardens waiting and watching for the fae,” Flaherty replied.

Silas nodded. “I remember those days well. Our girls are a bit older now, but every once in a while they’d try to sneak out before dawn for the same reason.”

Flaherty was glad for the help, pleased he had a few experts in faerie hunting and flower picking in his search party.

He watched the others move out and lagged behind, waiting, watching, listening.

The noise of men gathered and splitting up into groups quieted, until all he could hear was the breeze.

Was it his imagination, or did he hear a whisper on the wind?

Closing his eyes, he lifted his chin and let it caress his face.

The meadow pond.

Urged on by unseen forces, ones he was Irish enough to trust, Flaherty caught up to the brothers on horseback. “I’m going to the meadow pond. Keep searching!”

They didn’t question Flaherty’s order. They’d lived near faerie hill forts long enough to have heard voices on the wind and singing in the night. “He’ll find her, but we’d best keep looking,” Samuel murmured.

“Aye,” his brother agreed. “Susana may have sent someone else from the village to spy on His Grace and poor Mrs. Johnson.”

“Keep searching, boys!” Samuel said.

With a nod, their sons split up, each taking a side of the road to scour. The pace was slow, but leaving no stone unturned was how they had found their sister the time she ran off chasing butterflies.

*

Maddy couldn’t move another step. Exhausted, she sat down near the pond, wishing she had caught the beautiful faerie with the rainbow wings. She hadn’t been watching the path ahead of her, and had tripped and scraped her knee. It stung and was bleeding. Maddy didn’t like blood.

Pulling her knees to her chest, she leaned her chin on her hands. She wished Just Flaherty were here. He’d carry her home to Mum, and Constance would give her scones and tea.

Tears welled up and she brushed them away.

Mum only cried at night when she thought no one would hear her…

but Maddy heard. So she tried to be brave like her mum and not cry.

It wasn’t dark yet, but she wasn’t certain she could find her way home.

She’d been looking up, following the faerie that flew above her head, not paying attention to her surroundings.

Now, even the faerie was gone. She was alone, and the sun was hiding behind dark clouds. She was scared. Would she ever see Mum again?

There was a sound behind her. Was it a person or an animal?

Maddy wanted to see, but tucked in among the reeds by the pond, she was too short.

She’d have to stand up, but she was afraid to.

Despite her vow not to cry, a few tears escaped, but she wiped them away.

When she lowered her hands, she noticed they were damp and streaked with dirt.

Worried that her knee was still bleeding, Maddy lifted her hem and stared at the trickle of blood that ran from where the skin was scraped off.

It looked scary. Her knee hurt and she wanted her mum!

She should try to stop the bleeding, but her hands were dirty.

Mum would want her to clean her hands before she touched the scrape.

She tilted her head back and watched as two magpies flew over her head.

Whenever Mum saw two together, she reminded Maddy that it was good luck!

A glance around her, and she wondered—how could her luck be good if no one ever found her?

Was anyone looking for her at all? Devastated at the thought that no one but her mother would be looking for her, Maddy sat down hard. “I want my mum!”

Worn out from walking and worrying, she lay down, tucked her hands beneath her cheek, and closed her eyes.

She thought she heard a voice, but it sounded so far away that she wondered if it were thunder.

Sniffing back the tears that threatened, she drifted into dreams where a big man with red hair and blue eyes rode up on a horse and scooped her off the ground.

She nestled into his arms, shivering. But he tucked her inside his big coat.

Warm again, she sighed and dreamed the red-haired man would marry her mum.

*

“Ye poor wee lass. Don’t cry. I’ve got ye.” Flaherty swallowed against the lump of emotion in his throat and sent up a prayer of thanks to God, and another to the fae who had sent him the message on the breeze. He’d found Maddy at the meadow pond, nestled among the reeds.

He ground his back teeth when he noticed the blood on her gown.

Carefully lifting it to her knees, he noticed one had a trickle of blood flowing from where it had been scraped raw.

“Poor lamb. I’ll wrap it up.” Removing his cravat, he gently folded it and wrapped it around her knee.

Drawing her gown back down, he glanced over his shoulder to where his horse stood patiently waiting for him.

“We’ve found her, laddie. She won’t add much to the weight I’ll be asking ye to carry.

” His horse snorted. “She does weigh a bit more than thistledown, but not by much.”

Maddy hiccupped and shivered in her sleep.

The air blowing in with the storm was chilly.

Flaherty knew he had to get her warm quickly.

He scooped her into his arms and settled her against his heart, tucking his coat around her.

She was a tiny thing, for all of her big personality.

Mounting his horse, he shifted the little girl until she was snug against him.

“Yer ma’s worried about ye, lass. Let’s go home. ”

Home. The word vibrated right through to Flaherty’s soul.

It had felt like home once Temperance and her daughter were staying at Wyndmere Hall.

They’d become a part of his life, and had been welcomed among the rest of the guard and the household staff—and, more importantly, accepted by the duke and duchess as if they were extended family.

Would the duke help him if he asked him to obtain a special license?

He had for the others. Flaherty hoped His Grace would do the same for him, because he did not intend to go another sennight without asking Temperance Johnson to be his wife and Maddy to be his daughter.

The wee lass sneezed, and he hoped she would not catch cold. There were plans to be made. A woman to woo. And best of all, the possibility of a life he’d never thought he deserved to have just within reach.

All he had to do was ask.