Page 4 of The Duke’s Sharpshooter (The Duke’s Guard #14)

F laherty gave a short, sharp whistle as they rode toward the stables behind Wyndmere Hall. Patrick O’Malley and Aiden Garahan rushed toward him—O’Malley from behind the stables, Garahan from the rear entrance of the house.

“What’s happened?” O’Malley demanded.

“Who’s that?” Garahan asked.

A tiny gasp sounded from the bundle in Flaherty’s arms. “Later.” He bent his head and whispered, “Ye’ve nothing to fear, Maddy-lass. Me cousin O’Malley will take ye inside.”

“To Constance’s tea and cake?”

“Aye. She’ll feed ye till yer belly’s full.” He met the intensity of O’Malley’s gaze. “Take the wee cailín to the kitchen. I’ve promised her tea, butter cake, and scones.”

O’Malley opened his arms and took the little lass from Flaherty. “Me daughter Deidre would love yer curls, and the duke’s twins will want to play with ye.”

The curly-haired moppet stared up at the blond-haired, green-eyed guard. “Your eyes are like mine and Mum’s.” When O’Malley smiled at her, she told him, “I’m hungry.”

Flaherty could not contain his worry. The poor little mite had waited patiently at the inn after he’d promised they’d be fed…and they hadn’t been. He vowed to get to the bottom of the issue. The coin wasn’t much of a concern—justice was imperative for the poor widow and her daughter.

“Garahan, hold me horse.” After Flaherty dismounted with the lass in his arms, he nodded to Garahan. “I’ve promised the lad a cup of oats, an apple, and two carrots. He didn’t get his oats at the inn. There’s a situation there that we need to handle, immediately.”

Garahan started to walk the horse to the stables but then stopped.

“Why don’t ye tell me now?” Temperance moaned in Flaherty’s arms, and Garahan’s eyes locked with his.

“Me wife will be along to help shortly. Emily won’t mind sitting with the poor woman while Merry and Constance decide if the physician is needed. ”

Flaherty’s throat felt like the round shot from an eighteen-pounder gun was lodged in it.

Garahan seemed to be waiting for his agreement.

He inclined his head and finally managed to swallow the imaginary munition, then strode toward the rear door to the house, shifting the lass in his arms to reach for the doorknob.

It opened as the duke’s butler Humphries ushered him inside.

“Constance is helping little Miss Maddy wash her hands before she feeds her.”

“Thank ye, and please thank Constance for me.”

“No thanks necessary, Flaherty. His Grace would expect us to lend aid whenever and wherever needed.”

As Flaherty’s gut burned with indignation on the lass’s behalf, he stepped into the room with the cot and healing supplies. “I left them in the care of Scruggs with instructions to see them inside and to ask the innkeeper’s sister to let them sit by the fire and to feed them.”

Humphries scoffed. “Mr. Harkness is the affable one of the pair.”

“I thought it a family trait,” Flaherty said.

The butler shook his head. Before Flaherty could question him further, he noticed the duke’s housekeeper bustling about the room, smoothing fresh linens on the cot, setting out drying cloths and a new round of soap.

“Bring her over here, Flaherty.” Merry stepped back while he gently placed the lass on the cot. “Poor woman—what happened?”

“I noticed someone by the base of one of the oaks next to the graveyard. When I called out, she stood and tried to run.”

“I take it you stopped her,” Humphries said.

“Aye. I judged her to be a lad, given her size, but when she turned and looked at me…I saw her face.”

A footman arrived with hot water. “Add it to the pitcher and the bowl,” Merry instructed him. When he finished the task, she thanked him.

“Scruggs is a good man,” Flaherty continued.

“I left the widow and her daughter in his care and gave him coins for their meal. He agreed to escort them inside and promised to hand Miss Harkness the coin I gave him to feed the lasses, while I finished me rounds. I asked the lass to wait and she agreed, but when I returned, they had gone.” His temper boiled.

“Why did the innkeeper’s sister take me coin and not feed the lasses? ”

Merry shared a telling look with Humphries. “We’ll find out,” she said, returning to the cot and the woman that had Flaherty’s guts tied in knots. She placed a hand to Temperance’s forehead. “You’ll have to leave, Flaherty. We need to get her out of these damp clothes immediately.”

Flaherty brushed a lock off Temperance’s forehead and promised, “I’ll be back, lass.”

“Humphries, tell Francis I need her—Emily, too,” Merry continued. “If Garahan demands to know what task I have given her, please let him know she will not lift anything heavier than a linen cloth.”

Humpries followed Flaherty out of the room. “Garahan dotes on his wife,” Flaherty commented as they walked toward the kitchen. “I’m thinking it’s been some time since someone doted on the lass.”

“Miss Maddy ate every bit of food I gave her,” Constance told Flaherty as he strode into the kitchen. He smiled seeing the wee lass sitting on top of two cushions the cook must have placed on the little one’s chair. She smiled before taking a huge bite of butter cake.

“Easy, now,” he warned. “Ye’ll not want to be worrying yer ma by choking.”

Duly chastised, Maddy slowed her chewing until she finished the bite she’d taken and pushed the plate of cake away from her. “Mum hasn’t eaten in a day or so, and it’s my fault.”

Her tear-filled eyes tore at his gut. He walked over, knelt by her chair, and mopped her tears with his handkerchief. Handing it to her, should she need it again, he tried to think of what to say to get her to stop crying. “Yer ma needs ye to be strong for her—can ye do that?”

Blonde curls bounced with the movement of her head.

“That’s grand. I’m thinking she’d be wanting ye to clean yer plate. Am I right?”

“How did you know?”

“Ma always insisted me brothers and I not leave a crumb. We needed to eat to keep our strength up to help our da with the chores.”

“Chores?”

“Aye.” He used the tip of his finger to move the plate within her reach.

When she picked up the fork, he nodded. “There’s a lass.

A chore is a task…a job. On me parents’ farm, there are plenty of jobs.

Tasks that never end.” He handed her the napkin next to her plate.

“Ye missed yer mouth with that last big bite. Need help wiping yer face?”

She shook her head, wiped her mouth, and set the cloth on the table. Her eyes shone with what she was feeling with her belly full and her ma being taken care of—relief.

“I’ll bet Constance has the beef broth ready for yer ma to drink. It’ll warm her from the inside out. Later, when her belly’s ready, we can give her broth-soaked bread.”

“How do you know what she needs?”

“Ah, lass. ’Tis the saddest of tales, but I’ll tell ye that ’tis a crime for a person to go hungry when there are those with more than enough food to prevent such a thing.”

Maddy’s brow furrowed, as if she were thinking about what he’d said. Her green eyes widened as she asked, “Were you ever hungry?”

“A time or two, but that was once me brothers and I left home to find work here in England. We had to so our folks wouldn’t lose their farm.”

She frowned as she chewed the last bite. “But who does your chores?”

“We have cousins who have been helping around the farm. Now then, did ye drink yer tea?”

“Every drop,” Constance assured him. “Would you like more, Miss Maddy?”

Maddy smiled. “Thank you, Miss Constance.”

“Yer ma would be proud of ye for remembering yer manners.”

The cook agreed with him and told the little girl so.

“Can I see Mum now?”

“Not yet—Merry, Francis, and Emily are helping yer ma out of her wet clothes before helping her dress in something warm and dry.”

She sniffled as her eyes filled again. “I don’t want Mum to be alone. She cries at night when she thinks I’m sleeping.”

Flaherty’s heart ached at what the pair had been through. “Thank ye for taking care of this wee sprite for me, Constance. We’re going to knock on the door and see if her ma’s ready for a visit.”

The cook gave a nod. “Let me know when I can send the broth and tea to her.”

“Thank ye, Constance.” He looked down at the child and asked, “Ready to get down?”

“Yes, and I can climb by myself.” He’d been prepared to pick Maddy up, but waited, understanding the little one’s need to prove she could handle the task.

She wiggled off the chair and looked up at him before he offered his hand.

He had to bend over so she could reach it, but Flaherty did not mind.

He was proud of her resilience, and the way she skipped toward the room where her mother was being cared for.

“I’m glad Mum can finally eat. She always has me eat first. I tried to eat less so I could share, but she insisted that I needed it more so I could grow up to be a mum someday.”

The sadness entwined with hope in Maddy’s voice entranced him.

She might be tiny, but she was mighty and far too worldly for her age.

A four-year-old should not be able to understand that her mother was starving herself so that her daughter could eat.

He’d seen it and heard tales of it back in Ireland.

Maddy should be running across the meadow chasing butterflies, or picking wildflowers while she walked through gardens holding her mother’s hand. If she were his daughter—

Flaherty’s heart knew then what his head had not yet accepted—the tiny, green-eyed pixie had him firmly wrapped around her finger. “Me ma always saw that the four of us ate our fill first, too.”

“I love my mum. Do you love yours?”

“Aye, lass, to pieces.”

She was giggling when they reached the room where Temperance was temporarily being cared for. Flaherty knocked, and the door swung open. Merry beamed at them. “Just who we were coming to look for. Your mum is asking for you, Miss Maddy.”

Flaherty let go of Maddy’s hand, and the little girl rushed toward the cot. “Mum, you’re awake!”

“Have you eaten?” Temperance asked.

Maddy nodded. “I sat on two pillows and had stew and bread with butter and cake and tea.”

Temperance’s eyes glowed, but Flaherty had a feeling that most of it was from the fever. “Where did you fit it?”

Her daughter patted her belly. “Right here.”

Flaherty smiled at the pair. “Well now, as I’m no longer needed, I’d best return to me duties. ’Tis me shift guarding the perimeter.” His eyes met Temperance’s. “Eat what ye are able to, lass. Little Miss Maddy will be in good hands while ye rest.”

“Thank you, Mr. Flaherty.”

“Just Flaherty, lass. If ye need me, Humphries knows where to find me.” He turned and walked to the door, only to stop when something plowed into the backs of his knees.

Maddy wrapped her arms around his legs. “Thank you for saving us, Just Flaherty.”

Warmth filled him as he stared down into the face of the pint-sized angel.

I’m thinking ’twas yerselves that saved me, lass.

He had not been around children since leaving home, where there were always younger cousins to mind in between his chores.

He’d forgotten how they would say exactly what was on their minds and were not afraid to show emotion.

Flaherty and his cousins were loath to reveal what they were thinking or feeling.

His Grace depended on them to be emotionless when dealing with those who sought to discredit or defame the duke and his family.

Most everyone they came in contact with were left to wonder what they were thinking.

Maddy tugged at his heart until he felt as if the walls he’d built around it cracked. Going down on one knee, Flaherty hugged the wee lass to his heart. “’Twas me pleasure, lass.” Easing her out of his arms, he urged her back to her mother’s side and turned to leave.

He’d always thought that he could hold off falling in love for another few years. Walking away from that room, he knew he’d given his heart—nay, it had been snatched from his chest—to the tiny, curly-haired cailín .

Flaherty knew then that he was in big trouble.

He had to convince her ma that he was worthy of protecting them both.

He had feelings for the lass and knew he was not far from giving the rest of his heart to her.

First he had to prove he was up to the task of providing a home for the pair.

He’d show Maddy and her ma that he was skilled at handling all manner of weapons—especially a rifle and pistol.

His moniker of “the duke’s sharpshooter” had been earned.

The challenge would be convincing the lass that he was worthy of her daughter’s love—and hers!