The little darling batted her eyelashes at him. “I always wanted a kitten. Mum said no.”

  “Well now, one of the cats that lives in the stables just had a litter of kittens. Three orange-and-white-striped ones, and one tiny black one. ’Tis the runt of the litter.” Before the inquisitive tot asked, he explained, “The smallest of the bunch.”

  “Could I see them?”

  From Temperance’s frown, Flaherty expected her to say no. “Mayhap. First we need to count how many coins we have left. If I don’t find a position soon, we’ll have to push on to the next village.”

  “Here now, let me take ye to the inn for that tea and cake. As me ma’s fond of reminding meself and me brothers, ’tisn’t wise to make any decisions on an empty belly. I’ve a mile more to go on patrol before I head back into town. I’ll stop at the inn on me way back and take ye with me to Wyndmere Hall. No one will bother ye if they know ye’re under me protection, but there are those in the village who are wary of vagrants.”

  The threat of being apprehended for being homeless or jobless sparked her temper. “I’m not a vagabond!” As if she regretted raising her voice to him, she added more quietly, “I would not want to put you out, Mr. Flaherty.”

  “I’d rather know the two of ye were safe and sound, warm and dry at the inn, than being mistakenly identified and hauled before the constable.”

  “But wasn’t that what you threatened a few moments ago?”

  She had him there. “Aye, but that was before I knew ye weren’t armed and hiding a dangerous weapon.”

  The lass sighed. “Thank you for your concern, but Madeline—”

  “Maddy,” her spitfire of a daughter reminded her.

  “Maddy is dry, but I’m soaked, and do not believe we would be welcomed at the inn.”

  “Ah, there’s where ye’d be wrong then, lass,” Flaherty replied. “The hostler, Scruggs, is a friend and has a soft spot for little ones and horses. The innkeeper is a fair man who is known for his hospitality.”

  Maddy patted her mother’s face and reminded her, “I’m hungry, Mum.”

  “It’ll be me treat for two lovely, damp lasses on a soft spring morning.”

  “It’s cold and raining,” Maddy complained.

  “Rain makes it a lovely morning. The flowers will be drinking it up, and when the sun comes out, they’ll be opening their blossoms to show them off. If ye wait right here, I’ll whistle for me horse. The lad is partial to little ones and would be honored to give ye a ride to the inn.”

  “It’s not that far a walk,” Temperance protested.

  “I thought ye were too tired to walk. Isn’t that why I found ye sitting here in the rain?”

  She shrugged.

  He would wager—and win—that her reason for leaving the inn had more to do with the fact that she and her little girl were traveling without an escort than a lack of coin. It would raise questions she might not be up to answering, especially if her husband had died recently. More often than not there were folks who judged a woman alone harshly, and a woman with a young child or babe harsher.

  He’d be asking her the details later. For now, he intended to see them settled at a table near the fire in the inn’s taproom. “Leave it to me—I’ll see that ye have tea and cake, or whatever yer mum feels is best.”

  “Cake!”

  When Maddy’s mother did not answer right away, he said, “Cake it is, Miss Maddy.” He whistled for his horse, chuckling when the ladies gushed over how smart and handsome the gelding was. “Shall I set ye on me horse first, while Maddy stands beside me, or Maddy first?”

  “Maddy first,” Temperance said.

  He nodded and told his horse to be still, while he lifted the little one onto the animal’s back. “Now then, Miss Maddy, grab hold of the saddle, while I help yer ma up.”

  “I can manage,” Temperance insisted.

  “I don’t doubt it, but me horse is used to me movements, not the excess fabric of yer cloak and gown fluttering against him. If it’s me ye’re skittish about, ye have no worries. Me ma would have me hide if I forgot me manners or mistreated a lady.” He put his hands around her too-thin waist and decided he’d order a full breakfast for the both of them. “Up ye go.”

  After he’d settled them on his horse, he praised the animal, “There’s a lad. We’ll detour back to the inn, settle the lasses inside, finish up our rounds, stop back, and take them to meet the duke.”

  “Oh, but I never said we’d go with you to Wyndmere Hall,” Temperance protested.

  “Don’t ye want Miss Maddy to meet Merry and Constance?”

  “Another time. I need to secure a position first.”

  The desperation underlying her tone told Flaherty all he needed to know. They were likely down to their last few coins. They weren’t vagrants as long as they had a few in their pockets, but he had a feeling they had been treated warily—mayhap even badly.

  “I’ll introduce ye to Scruggs first, as he’ll want to spoil me horse with an apple, as he does every time I pass through the village on patrol. After we get ye settled by the fire with a meal and hot tea, we’ll ask the innkeeper if he needs kitchen help.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Flaherty.”

  “Ye’d be welcome, lass, and it’s just Flaherty.” He walked his horse to the inn, grateful the rain had let up. He was worried about the lass and her little girl.

  “What have you got there, Flaherty?” Scruggs called out as he led his horse into the innyard.

  “Mrs. Johnson and her daughter, Maddy.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, missus—and you too, Maddy.”

  Flaherty pitched his voice low, so only the hostler would hear. “They’re under me protection, Scruggs, and that of His Grace. Will ye keep an eye on them for me while I make the loop around and return for them? I wouldn’t want anyone accusing them of being vagabonds.”

  Scruggs squared his shoulders and gave a nod. “I understand. You can count on me.”

  Relief filled Flaherty. He’d known he could rely on the honest hostler. “They’re chilled to the bone. I’d appreciate it if the innkeeper or his sister would sit them by the fire and serve them tea and breakfast. ’Tis on me.” Flaherty reached into his waistcoat pocket, withdrew a few coins, and handed them to Scruggs. “I have a mile or so to go to finish me patrol, then I’ll swing back to pick them up and take them on to Wyndmere Hall.”

  Scruggs nodded toward the side of the inn. “Harkness is settling an issue with a delivery of ale. I’ll let Miss Susana know.”

  Flaherty nodded and turned to smile at the little girl. “Hold on tight to the saddle while I help yer ma down.”

  The wee one nodded.

  This time when he wrapped his hands around Temperance’s waist, she stiffened and he shifted in his hold. Bollocks, he could feel her ribs! This widow needed his help, whether she knew it or not, wanted it or not. “Easy now, lass,” he soothed. “Let me help yer little cailín down.” Maddy held out her arms and giggled. “Aye, ye’re a charmer for sure, lass, just like yer ma.”

  He passed the little girl into her mother’s arms. “Now then, I’m sure ye heard me asking Scruggs to take care of ye while I’m gone. I won’t be more than three-quarters of an hour. Time enough for ye to warm up next to the fire and fill yer bellies.”

  “Oh, but I don’t—”

  “I’ve already taken care of it,” Flaherty interrupted. Holding her worried gaze, he continued, “Scruggs here will see to it that Harkness and his sister know that ye’re under me protection and that of His Grace. They’ll take good care of yerself and little Miss Maddy.”

  Watching Scruggs escort them to the inn, he patted his horse’s neck. “Now then, laddie, ye’ll have a bit of a wait for the cup of oats I promised.” Fine animal that he was, the gelding lifted his head and whinnied. “Good lad.” Flaherty mounted and rode off.

  Chapter Two

  Temperance thanked Mr. Scruggs, unnerved by the way the innkeeper’s sister looked at her. For Maddy’s sake she did not let her unease show as she smiled and thanked the woman. The fire was hot, and her cloak was mostly dry. While they waited, others had arrived and been served. This was not the first time this had happened to them. She had discovered that traveling with her daughter—without a male escort—immediately raised suspicion. In the few years she’d been widowed, she had been unable to secure steady work. Whenever anything went wrong, she was the first to be blamed, though she had a strong work ethic. Since leaving her last position, she had even been accused of stealing Maddy, who was the image of her late husband with her curly blonde hair, but with Temperance’s green eyes.

  “Mum, my belly aches.” The tiny hand on her arm had her temper simmering. Scruggs had relayed Flaherty’s message to Miss Harkness, so why had she been ignoring them in favor of other travelers who had arrived after they had?

  “Breakfast will be here soon, Maddy.”

  Her daughter abandoned her chair. She climbed onto Temperance’s lap and leaned her head against her breast.

  “You’re such a good girl to wait so long. Thank you.”

  Maddy’s breathing slowly evened out until she began to snore. The little girl was just as exhausted as Temperance was.

  She wondered if she should have left the merchant’s employ sooner. She’d been hired to assist the man’s cook. He paid her well, and agreed to let her keep Maddy with her while she worked. After a few months, she’d begun to think that maybe this was where she and Maddy belonged. She relaxed her guard—and that was when he’d cornered her in the pantry and locked the door. The cook had warned Temperance that it was not if he would add Temperance to his list of conquests, but when. She suggested Temperance carry a knife in her apron pocket, and thank goodness she had! The coward had covered his face with his hands and backed away, begging her not to stab him. She’d packed up Maddy and left a short time later, but not before Cook handed her a small bag of coins. Temperance had nearly wept. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried. There had simply not been time.

  She had spent most of the coin on their journey south in the hopes of finding another position. Rocking and quietly humming, she reaffirmed her vow that her daughter would not go hungry ever again. Temperance had worked her fingers to the bone trying to provide for Maddy and was at a loss as to what else she could do to earn money, short of selling herself.

  Shame filled her for even thinking it. Her husband would never have wanted her to stoop so low. Lord, what else can I do?

  Humiliation stained her cheeks as she realized heads slowly turned as the other patrons stared at her and whispered. It had taken less than an hour this time before the rumors and speculation began. Temperance refused to allow one more self-righteous person to cast aspersions on her daughter or herself. They were dry, and Maddy had fallen asleep. It was time to leave.

  She rose to her feet. Head high, she skirted the tables and, without a backward glance, walked out the door.

  “I see your little tot fell asleep,” Mr. Scruggs called to her as she walked toward him. “A full belly more often than not has me feeling sleepy myself.”

  She decided not to tell him what had happened inside. “Would you please tell Mr. Flaherty that it was too crowded to stay inside?”

  “No sense getting wet again after you’ve already dried off. Why don’t you wait inside the barn?”

  “Maddy would be terrified if she woke up surrounded by so many horses, but thank you for your kindness, and please do thank Mr. Flaherty for us.”

  The older man’s frown was fierce, but facial expressions were the very least of what worried Temperance. A person’s smile while passing on false rumors and innuendo was far more threatening. She had no one to stand beside her while she fought against those who sought to slander her good name. Those that had did not know her or her husband.

  She felt the weight of her sleeping daughter between her shoulder blades and in her lower back. The aches were welcome, as they served to remind her that no matter what anyone else thought, her husband had loved her—and would have loved their daughter. She shifted Maddy in her arms and dug deep for a smile for the only other person in the village to show her an ounce of kindness. “Thank you, Mr. Scruggs.”

  “I gave my word to watch over you and Maddy, Mrs. Johnson.”

  “But you have a job to do, and three carriages arriving on the heels of one another required your attention. I’m grateful that you took the time to see us settled in the taproom and spoke to the innkeeper’s sister on our behalf. You have no control over when and how many carriages arrive at the inn. I shall always remember your kindness. Goodbye, Mr. Scruggs.”

  Someone hailed the hostler. Short of tying them up, Temperance knew he had no choice but to let them go.

  Her footsteps were steady, but slow. She’d learned to conserve as much energy as she could in order to walk the long distances required in searching for employment. Half a mile seemed much longer when her daughter was fast asleep. Awake, Maddy would have her arms around Temperance’s neck, clinging to her like a bur, and would not feel as heavy.

  Tears pricked the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “Tears solve nothing. They make my eyes swell and my nose red.”

  Annoyed with herself, she slipped on a patch of deep mud along the edge of the road. It was time to find shelter and rest. She could not afford for Maddy to become ill by exposure to the wet and the damp, chilly air. A copse of fir trees off to the right would have to do.

  Aware that her steps were faltering, her body straining from the weight of the precious burden she carried, Temperance prayed for her guardian angel to protect them while they rested.

  Beneath the cover of the trees, she found a dry spot among the fragrant pine needles. She set her daughter down, then lay beside her, tucking Maddy against her heart where no cold air or dampness would touch her. Fingers stiff from being wet and cold, gown sticking to her legs, Temperance fought the urge to shiver.

  Her eyes drifted closed as she prayed, “Lord, please help me find a way to feed my little one. She needs to eat and somewhere warm to sleep.”

  *

  “What do ye mean they’ve gone?”

  Scruggs shrugged. “We had a number of coaches arrive at the same time right after I tucked Mrs. Johnson and her daughter in the taproom next to the fire. I passed along your message to the innkeeper’s sister as three carriages pulled in. I offered to let her stay in the barn out of the wet, but she insisted it would startle her daughter to wake surrounded by horses.”

  Flaherty had a bad feeling in his gut. “Did she say where she was headed?”

  “She mentioned it being too crowded inside, and I can well imagine it with the number of people in the packed coaches. Besides, if she and her daughter had finished eating, they would be obliged to give up their seats.”

  Flaherty scrubbed a hand over his face. “How long ago did she leave?”

  “Half an hour, maybe more.” Flaherty turned to leave, and Scruggs called out, “She said to thank you for your kindness and headed out of town with Maddy sleeping in her arms.”

  Flaherty knew a sleeping—or unconscious—body felt as if it weighed more. The lass had looked dead on her feet when he’d had to leave her to finish his rounds in the village. It had taken a bit longer than anticipated. He’d stopped to help one of the tenant farmers’ sons, who’d gotten stuck halfway up a tree, unable to climb down.

  Gaining his saddle, he prayed, “Lord, I could use Yer help finding them.”

  Three-quarters of a mile up the road, the heavens opened up. He wiped the rainwater out of his eyes and noticed a copse of fir trees off the side of the road—and deep, small footprints, indicating someone was carrying a heavy load. It had to be Temperance.

  Dismounting, he walked his gelding over to the trees and called her name softly, not wanting to startle the lass. When she didn’t answer, he told his horse to wait for him, brushed the branches aside, and stepped into the small shelter the thick branches provided.

  The pair he sought were huddled in a pile of pine needles. Temperance was shivering in her sleep, while her little one slept peacefully snuggled against her. He crossed the distance and knelt beside them. “Wake up, lass, ’tis Flaherty. I’ve come to take ye home.”

  Neither one stirred. He repeated the words, louder this time. A sliver of fear snaked up his spine. Placing the back of his hand to the lass’s forehead, he felt the heat radiating off her. Worry filled him. Maddy was much smaller, and he used two fingers to check her for fever. She was warm, but not as hot as her ma.

  A sense of urgency filled him. How long had she been fevered? Why hadn’t the stubborn lass at least waited in the barn for him? A scared child could be soothed, but at least they’d have been dry and warm.

  Though the inn was closer, and he was familiar with Scruggs and Harkness, he knew the duke and duchess would never turn away anyone in need—especially a widow and her small child. Decision made, he slipped his arms beneath the lass and started to lift her.

  Maddy opened her eyes. “You found us.”

  “That I did, little Miss Maddy.”

  “Mum’s tired, and we’re hungry.”

  “We’ll take care of that when we get to Wyndmere Hall. Let me help ye to stand up. I’ll need to put ye on me horse first, then yer ma. How brave are ye, wee cailín?”

  “I’m the bravest. Mum said so.”

  “There’s a lass. Now then, I’ve got a spare shirt and coat in tucked in a leather bag behind me saddle. I’m going to get them and wrap ye and yer ma in them to keep ye warm while we ride. All right?”

  Her green eyes sparkled like gems. “All right.”

  “Stay close to yer ma.” He grabbed the bag. “We’ve a big job ahead of us, laddie,” he told his gelding. “The lass is fevered, and we need to take her to the duke.” The intelligence in the horse’s eyes settled him. “Good, lad. Ye know how important it is for haste. Though the weight of us combined will be a chore for ye.” In answer, his horse snorted.

  If Flaherty had not been so worried, he would have laughed. Instead he rushed back to lasses. “Let me wrap this around ye, Maddy.” She watched him wrap his shirt around her. “Now then, let’s see if we can rouse yer ma and tuck ye into her arms. Then we can wrap me dry coat around the two of ye.”