Constance sighed. “Quite certain. Now then, tonight and for the next three days, the duchess would like Maddy to stay with Francis to give you and Flaherty time alone.”

  “I’m overwhelmed by their generosity and that of everyone here at Wyndmere Hall. Not one person has made Maddy or me feel as if we are interlopers.”

  “No one thinks that, Temperance.” Constance smiled. “Flaherty is due to return from his dawn patrol to the village any minute. You don’t want him to get the wrong impression on your wedding day, if he sees your eyes welling with tears.”

  Temperance wiped her eyes and looked up in time to see Flaherty striding into the kitchen. “Lass, what’s wrong? Is it Maddy? Whatever’s happened, tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”

  Constance leveled a look at Temperance, as if to say, I told you so. Temperance wanted to say something, but suddenly Flaherty had her by the hand and was pulling her along behind him. “Excuse us, Constance. I’m thinking the lass needs privacy to tell me what’s happened with Maddy.”

  Alone in the hall with Flaherty, Temperance had no idea where to start. Should she begin with her worry about tonight, or ask him if he meant for them to seal their vows and then go on to lead separate lives? They had not talked about expectations for their marriage—or even babes. Did he want them? Did she?

  It only took a few seconds for her to decide. Yes, she did want Maddy to have brothers and sisters. Heaven help her, she wanted a marriage with all of the trimmings, and she hoped Rory did too!

  He tipped up her chin with a knuckle. “Now then, lass. Tell me what’s happened. Where is our wee cailín?”

  The intensity in his crystal-blue eyes scorched her. For the life of her, she didn’t want to spend the time to wonder what he was thinking. She could not think past what he’d just said.

  “Our?”

  *

  Flaherty frowned. “I already think of her as ours. The vicar will make it official this afternoon. Were ye thinking to keep our daughter all to yerself?”

  “No, but—”

  “Are ye thinking I wouldn’t want to adopt her?”

  “Well, I—”

  “How could ye think that I would not want to give her the protection of me name, too?” His frown was fierce when he asked, “Are ye thinking to tell me ye want a marriage in name only?”

  “Rory—”

  “Why can ye not verbalize what ye’re wanting from me? I’m not an intimidating man!”

  That comment snapped Temperance out of her inability to speak. She put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “You most certainly are! And you keep interrupting me! I do not want a marriage in name only. For Heaven’s sake, look at you!”

  Flaherty glanced down at himself, then at her. “Do I have a spot on me waistcoat?” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he told her, “I look the same as I did this morning when I got dressed.”

  “You are too handsome for your own good.”

  “’Tis good of ye to notice.”

  “You are well over six feet tall.”

  “And have been since I was six and ten, lass.”

  She spread her arms out to her sides. “And your shoulders are broader than my arm span, fingertip to fingertip!”

  “Same as it was the day I found ye and Maddy in the graveyard.”

  “And the breadth and depth of your chest… It’s massive.”

  His frown changed to a glower as he moved a half step closer so they were toe to toe. Faith, but the lass did not give an inch. “Are ye explaining…or complaining? If ye’re explaining, there’s no need. I’m well aware of me manly attributes. Women love them.” He bent closer until his mouth was a hairsbreadth from hers. “I’ve never had a woman complain about me face and form. Ye’d best be telling me now what bug has gotten up yer—”

  He clamped his jaw shut before he insulted the woman. How had she managed to get under his skin and spark his temper so easily? He would never intentionally speak crudely to any woman, let alone the one who’d be his wife.

  “Well?”

  The feisty lass was staring at his mouth. When he licked his bottom lip, her eyes widened. Ah, so that’s the way of it, he thought. Poor lass won’t stand a chance once I get her in bed. She’ll be putty in me hands, and screaming me name in ecstasy before the night is over. Thank God she doesn’t intend for our marriage to be in name only!

  He glanced down to see the pulse thrumming at the base of her throat, and a wave of tenderness swept over him. “Ah, lass. If ye’re worried about me crushing ye when I make love to ye tonight, don’t. I’ll be bracing most of me weight on me forearms.” When she closed her eyes, he brushed a kiss over her lips. “Open yer eyes, lass. Don’t fear me.”

  She slowly did as asked. “I don’t fear you, exactly.”

  “What are ye afraid of, then, exactly?”

  “Too many things all tangled together,” she confessed.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I will treat like the treasure ye are, Temperance,” he rasped against her ear before he nipped her earlobe. “I’ll go slowly, so ye can accustom yerself to me size.”

  “Oh, but I’m not worried about how wide your shoulders are.”

  He chuckled. “I was referring to another part of meself altogether, lass.”

  “Oh, Lord!”

  Flaherty could not contain the snort of laughter that erupted.

  The smack to the back of his head had him swallowing the laughter. He eased back and stared down into her emerald-bright eyes. “God help me, lass, I never thought I’d meet a woman as feisty as me ma.” She placed her hands on his chest and pushed, but he did not give an inch. “I’ve got ye now, lass, and I’ll never let ye go. Ye can complain—or explain—like ye were trying to do just now, and it won’t matter. Ye’re the woman I’ve been praying for, but I truly never thought I’d meet anyone as perfect as yerself. And do you know what?”

  Temperance tried to look away, but he put a finger against her jaw to turn her head back. He whispered, “Don’t look away from me, lass.” When she met his gaze again, he molded his mouth to hers. Her scent—roses and raindrops—surrounded him as he plumbed the depths of her honey-sweet mouth, tasting, nibbling, kissing her supple lips.

  A cool breeze made him look up in time to see Garahan standing just inside the back door behind Temperance. His arms were crossed, and he was frowning. “Ye’re late for yer shift, Flaherty. Move yer bleeding arse!”

  Temperance gasped, glanced over her shoulder, and asked, “How can you even see the back of him, let alone if he’s injured his backside?”

  Flaherty had the satisfaction of watching his cousin’s eyes widen a moment before Garahan roared with laughter. “Faith, ye’ve found a woman just like yer ma. Aunt Sorcha will be busting her buttons with pride when Emily adds the news to the letter she’s writing.”

  “Ye’ll not be the first to tell me ma I’m getting married. I will!”

  Garahan grinned. “Well, boy-o, ye’ve missed the boat entirely if ye haven’t written home to tell her about Temperance and Maddy yet.”

  Flaherty’s temper simmered. “I wasn’t going to tell Ma anything until I asked Temperance to marry me, and she agreed.”

  Garahan slipped his arm around Temperance. “Just so ye know, lass, I was cursing at yer husband-to-be, though I don’t think the English use bleeding interchangeably with bloody when they curse. We Irish do.”

  When Temperance snorted, Flaherty sighed. “Adorable sound, isn’t it, Aiden?”

  Garahan chuckled. “I just thinking the same.”

  Temperance snorted louder this time. “Please don’t make me laugh. I sound like a cow with a bellyache.”

  “Nay, lass.” Flaherty removed his cousin’s arm from around his bride-to-be. Pulling her into his arms, he rasped, “Ye sound like one of the pigs on me family’s farm back home.”

  For the second time in less than ten minutes, the lass smacked him in the back of the head… Harder this time.

  “What in the bloody hell was that for?”

  Her eyes were narrow slits of green. The angry set of her jaw told the rest of the story. She was incensed.

  “Well? Ye’d best be telling me, so I don’t do whatever it was that had ye hitting me poor head again.”

  “Don’t ye mean yer soft head?” Garahan asked. “Even I know that no woman would want to be compared to a pig—whether it reminded ye of home or not.” Turning to Temperance, his cousin apologized, “Ye’ll have to excuse me cousin—he has not been in his right mind since he clapped eyes on yer daughter and yerself. He’s smitten.”

  “Garahan! I thought you were going to tell Flaherty to move his arse?” Eamon O’Malley called out as he walked toward them. “Are we having a family meeting? Where’s Patrick?”

  “’Tisn’t a meeting, and we don’t need another hardheaded Irishman’s opinion on me bride-to-be’s snort.” Flaherty mumbled.

  Eamon glanced at Flaherty, Temperance, and then Garahan. “Well now, a snort can be adorable, especially if it sounds like a wee piglet.”

  Flaherty nudged Temperance. “Ye see? I’m not the only one who thinks pigs sound adorable when they snort.”

  Her eyes were full of fire. Lord, he loved riling her. He sensed that beneath the surface was a passionate woman. After witnessing her temper, he could not wait to unleash it tonight.

  He noticed his cousins quietly slipping away and was relieved. He needed to tell the lass what was in his heart.

  “Eamon said piglet—that’s a baby pig,” Temperance reminded him. “You said pig—that is a much larger, and not terribly attractive animal.”

  Flaherty shook his head. He’d never understand females, but knew he would enjoy trying to figure out the woman glaring at him. “I love ye, lass.”

  She sagged against him. “Why would you say that now, when I’m mad at you?”

  “’Tis the perfect time, because now ye’ll have to make it up to me.” He kissed her tenderly, then whispered against her lips, “Say it back to me, lass.”

  “’Tis the perfect time.”

  He laughed, scooped her into his arms, and kissed the breath out of her. “God help me, lass, but ye’ve got spirit!”

  She placed her hand to the side of his face. “Rory?”

  “Aye, lass?”

  “I love you too.”

  The fire in her eyes called to him, and he started walking toward the kitchen door at the end of the hall. He opened it, and was about to walk in when the back door opened and O’Malley barked, “Put that woman down and get to yer post!”

  Flaherty laughed as he kissed her full on the mouth. “Ah, lass. It seems I’m needed elsewhere.” He winked at her. “We’ll have to wait until tonight to have our discussion. I’ll never last until the noon hour if I don’t eat now, but I’ll have to be quick about it.” He turned around with Temperance in his arms. At O’Malley’s arch look, he grinned.

  “Ye’re a bloody eedjit, Flaherty.”

  “Ye’d be knowing, O’Malley. Ye’re a right eedjit yerself.” He could hear his cousin’s heavy footsteps behind him, following them. He wasn’t worried. O’Malley wouldn’t be tossing any punches at him while he had Temperance tucked against his heart. He brushed a kiss to her temple. “What are ye plans for the morning? I’m thinking me shift would improve greatly if I could hold ye in me arms.”

  Temperance tilted her head to one side. “Where is your next shift?”

  He grinned and lifted his shoulders up to his ears, protecting the back of his head as he answered, “The rooftop.”

  Instead of hitting him, as expected, she kissed his cheek. “Will the rest of our lives be like this—you trading barbs with your cousins while you haul me around in your arms?”

  He glanced at O’Malley, who grunted.

  “That grunt was a distinct no from the head of our guard. Though it would certainly make for a more interesting shift, I’d best not take ye with me.” He looked over his shoulder at his cousin.

  “Shut yer gob, before I’m tempted to shut it for ye.”

  “Do ye see what I have to put up with, lass? O’Malley’s always picking on me.”

  O’Malley snickered and ordered him, “Hurry it up, and put Temperance down so she can eat.” He nodded to Constance and retraced his steps.

  Flaherty waited a moment, then called out, “Did anyone ever tell ye that ye’re a pain in the arse, O’Malley?”

  His cousin laughed, and Constance shook her head at Flaherty. “Set Temperance down and let her eat.”

  Flaherty knew the time for teasing the lass was over. “Aye, Constance. Do ye have any meat pies left from last night? I could take one or two with me and head to the rooftop before O’Malley sets the dogs on me.”

  “You have dogs here?” Maddy asked as she and Francis entered the kitchen. “Where are they?”

  Before he could reply, Constance said, “Flaherty is in a playful mood this morning. His Grace doesn’t have any dogs—yet, though I did hear him mention something about one of the tenant farmers’ dogs having a litter. Then there are the kittens in the barn.”

  “I told ye about them the other day, Maddy,” Flaherty added. “I’m thinking the little black one would be perfect for ye.”

  Maddy’s gaze locked on her mum. “I’ve always wanted a dog—or a black kitten.”

  “Eat your breakfast, Maddy dear. We’ll talk about it later.”

  “’Tis a fine suggestion, Temperance,” Flaherty said. “I’m thinking we’ll have just enough room in our cottage for a pup and a kitten. And our wee cailín and her pets could grow up together.”

  “Flaherty?”

  “Aye, mo ghrá?”

  “Eat your breakfast.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Flaherty paced from the sitting room fireplace to the French doors leading the terrace and back. He paused to glare at the open door before resuming his pacing.

  “Ye’re giving me a pain in me head,” Garahan grumbled.

  “Ye’ve been a pain in me arse all day!”

  “Ye have no reason to be nervous, Rory. She’s been married before and won’t be fearing the marriage bed.”

  Flaherty grunted. “But that’s the problem! What if her expectations are high? ’Tisn’t like I could ask her about her experience with lovemaking. Can ye imagine me asking, How many times did ye make love before ye fainted from the orgasms yer husband gave ye?”

  Garahan snorted. “Ye might not want to lead with that question, but it would be good to know.”

  “Ye see? I need to know. What if she’s cold as ice, and never felt anything?”

  “I’m thinking ye’d get a hint of whether or not she’d be passionate from kissing her.” Garahan stared at his cousin’s back. “Stop pacing and pay attention!” When Flaherty spun around and stalked over, his cousin said, “I know ye’ve kissed her more than once—as I’ve walked in on ye and caught the two of ye in a passionate embrace. So what is the real reason yer bollocks are in a knot?”

  Flaherty raked both hands through his hair until it stood on end. “What If I cannot satisfy her in bed?”

  Garahan scoffed. “Ye wouldn’t be any cousin of mine, nor an Irishman worth yer salt, if ye couldn’t figure out to how bring a woman to the gates of Heaven, boy-o.”

  When Flaherty remained silent, Garahan sighed and placed a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “Ye’ve been with more than one woman—have ye not been able to bring one of them to peak?”

  Flaherty shoved Garahan and growled, “I’ll be willing to wager, I’ve satisfied more lasses than ye have!”

  “Did ye worry about whether or not ye’d satisfy any of those other lasses beforehand?”

  “Nay. I’ve never left a woman’s bed without hearing her cry out me name at least five times.”

  Garahan snorted. “There’s the cousin I love like a brother, confirming what we all heard back home… That ye had a score of women fawning over ye, following ye around begging for crumbs.”

  Flaherty swore without any heat behind it. “Sorry I shoved ye, Aiden. I let me temper loose for a few minutes. I’ve contained it. I’m an arse.”

  “That ye are, but faith, I’m fond of ye. About tonight—don’t let doubts plague ye. Woo the lass with kisses, and when she’s pliant in yer arms, whisper of the things ye have in mind. Ye’ll know if she’s experienced any of them by her reaction.”

  “Is that what ye did?”

  Garahan eyes darkened with grief and anger before he masked it. “I know ye heard what happened to me wife. ’Tisn’t something I willingly speak about. Emily was attacked at that inn—ye remember the bruises on her face, and Helen’s too—but I stopped the blackguard before he forced himself on her. On our wedding night, I treated her as if she were made of fine china.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and rasped, “Asking permission before I touched her—even to brush a finger along the line of her jaw—went a long way to earning her trust.”

  Flaherty nudged Garahan with his shoulder. “Yer temper is equal to mine, ye showed restraint and patience, and ’tis plain for anyone with eyes in their head that ye healed her invisible scars. Ye’re a far better man than meself, Aiden. Here I am worried about whether or not I’ll be up to the challenge of competing with the memory of her dead husband in bed, while ye had the worry of doing or saying something that would remind yer bride of what happened to her during the attack.”

  When Garahan didn’t reply right away, Flaherty pulled his flask out of his waistcoat pocket and handed it to him. “Take it. I won’t need it tonight. Ye can give it back to me tomorrow—but it’d best not be empty.”

  Garahan nodded. “Ye won’t say anything to Temperance about what happened to Emily, will ye?”

  Flaherty put his hand over his heart. “Ye have me word.”

  “Thank ye.”

  “Vicar Digby,” Humphries announced from the doorway.

  The vicar walked toward them with his hand outstretched. “Congratulations, Flaherty. I’ve heard about your bride-to-be and her daughter.”

  Flaherty shook the vicar’s hand. “Whatever ye heard, ’tisn’t true.”