“It’s too dark to be morning,” Temperance grumbled.

  “Ah, so ye’ve finally shown yer true nature. Ye’re all sweetness and light until ye don’t get yer way. I never would have thought that of ye.”

  Feisty lass that she was, his wife pinched him hard on the buttocks—again. He rolled over until she was on top of him. When she smiled that sensual smile he’d grown accustomed to in the last few days, he pinched her back. Instead of complaining, she slid down, pressing her curves against him until his eyes crossed.

  The loud knock on the door had her stiffening. He cupped her head in his hand and kissed her thoroughly. “Not to worry—the door’s locked.”

  “Time’s up, Flaherty!” a deep voice boomed.

  “Ah, O’Malley sent Garahan.” He kissed the tip of her nose, looked over his shoulder, and shouted, “Come back tomorrow.”

  “The bloody hell I will! Get yer fecking arse out here now!”

  “Can’t. One of the tenant farmers’ sons could be walking past on the way to their fields. Me manly form would shock them.”

  “Put some fecking clothes on! Ye have five minutes before I break the door down.”

  “Will he really do that?” Temperance asked.

  “Depends on what’s been happening while we’ve been cocooned in our own world, lass.”

  “I’m helping him dress now, Garahan,” Temperance called out. “Please don’t break down our pretty yellow door.”

  A deep groan—followed by the sound of something heavy hitting their door—had Temperance jumping out of bed. She tossed Flaherty’s trousers at him. “Hurry!”

  He slipped on his pants, fastened them, and cupped her face in his hand. “That sound was his head. Garahan would never intrude on our privacy, lass. Surely by now ye’ve noticed he’s more bluster than bite.”

  Temperance handed him his cambric shirt. “Put this on,” she whispered. Then she yelled, “We’re hurrying, Garahan!”

  Flaherty laughed when he heard his cousin’s head hitting the door again. “Ye’re making him daft, lass. Say something else.”

  “But his head might crack our door if he hits it again!”

  “It’ll be worth it to see the huge knot on his forehead.” When she pressed her lips together, Flaherty sighed, found her chemise, and slipped it over her head. “Now yer gown, lass. I won’t be opening the door until ye’re dressed. No one but meself will see ye like this.”

  She lifted to her toes and kissed him before letting him slip her gown over her head. Turning her back to him, she let him do up her buttons. “Now for your waistcoat. Do you want help with your cravat?”

  “Nay, I hate wearing the bloody thing.”

  “It won’t take but a moment.” She didn’t wait for him to agree—the lass tied the fabric faster than he’d ever done. “There.” She patted his chest and smiled up at him. “All you need is your coat.”

  “That’s not all I need, lass.” He pulled her flush against him and kissed the breath out of her. “That’s what I need.”

  “After I straighten up, I’m going to spend the day in the nursery again. Maddy loves reading and playing with Abigail, Richard, and little Deidre. But I think she’s ready to sleep here in her new trundle bed instead of sharing a room with Francis.”

  There was another groan from the other side of the door, and Flaherty kissed her forehead. “With the way ye’ve been begging me to make love to ye—more than once a night and twice before dawn—ye may be carrying our babe. Maddy will be a wonderful big sister.”

  Temperance’s hands covered her mouth, but not the squeal of happiness.

  “Flaherty!” barked. “Step away from yer wife and get out here. Now!”

  His wife’s musical laughter filled Flaherty’s heart. “I’m coming.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Garahan grumbled.

  “Is this what I can expect every morning? To have one of your cousins pounding on our door telling you to get dressed?” Temperance asked.

  Flaherty slipped his arms around her waist and drew her into his arms. “Only on the mornings me insatiable wife insists that I make love to her until I don’t have the strength to stand.”

  Instead of the response he expected, she furrowed her brow and then slowly smiled. “We’ll have to get up earlier to give you time to recover.”

  Flaherty was still laughing as he opened the door. “Get yer arse moving, Garahan, or we’ll be late to our shifts.”

  Once Garahan started walking, Flaherty turned around, sprinted back to his door, and pulled his wife into yet another hug. “Don’t lift anything heavier than yer smile until I get home. If ye want, I can bring Maddy home midmorning—it’ll give ye time to rest.”

  She smiled at him. “I’m not the one who’s tired.”

  Flaherty was whistling when he caught up to Garahan.

  “It looks good on ye, Rory.”

  “What does?”

  “Love.”

  Flaherty shoved his cousin with his shoulder. “How’s Emily feeling this morning?”

  “Her stomach’s finally settled.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Garahan chuckled. He understood what Flaherty couldn’t wait for. “Ye’d best hurry up—that way our babes will be only a month or so apart.”

  Flaherty grinned. “More babes for Maddy to play with.”

  “God’s granted us a good life, Rory.”

  “Aye,” Flaherty agreed. “God is good.”

  Epilogue

  Five years later…

  Flaherty and Temperance stared down into the face of their newborn son. “He looks just like you, Rory.”

  The knock on the door had him rising to his feet. He bent and kissed his wife’s forehead and then their son’s. “That’ll be Emily with Maddy with the twins.”

  Flaherty opened the door and smiled at their newest stable hand. “Thank ye for escorting Mrs. Garahan and me girls, Tommy. Will ye wait and escort Mrs. Garahan back home?”

  “Aye. Though I’m to bring her back to Mrs. O’Malley’s house. We dropped her boys off there before coming here.”

  “Ye’re a good man, Tommy. I’ll be sure to put in a good word for ye with Garahan.”

  “I appreciate it. Ready, Mrs. Garahan?”

  “I am.” Emily hugged Maddy and her little sisters, then kissed Flaherty on the cheek. “Congratulations. Tell Temperance I’ll visit tomorrow.”

  “Walk slowly and mind yer step,” Flaherty reminded her.

  “Yes, Flaherty. I’m ready, Tommy. Bye, girls!”

  “Bye, Aunt Emily!” the lasses called in unison.

  Flaherty smiled at his daughters. “Are ye ready to meet yer new brother?” They cheered, and he grinned and put a finger to his lips. “Quiet now—yer ma is exhausted, and so is the babe. I’ll lift ye onto the bed, but don’t be touching or jostling yer brother now. Ye hear?”

  Their chorus of “aye, Da” warmed his heart.

  Maddy waited until Rose and Honey were on the bed before scooting in next to Honey, whose fingers were twitching to touch the babe. “Did you and Mum decide on his name?” she asked.

  “We’ve talked about calling him Donal.”

  “After your da’s favorite uncle,” Temperance added.

  Flaherty smiled watching their daughters stare at their newborn brother with awe. “But,” he said, “I’ve been thinking Donal should be his middle name.” He watched his wife’s face for her reaction. “Paul will be his first name.”

  Maddy smiled. “Would you really?”

  Flaherty smiled back and, with a nod from his wife, replied, “After all, I asked permission from him to marry yer ma. He gave it, and I don’t think a powerful guardian angel such as himself would mind adding a fourth babe to watch over.”

  Maddy reminded her sisters, “My papa is your guardian angel, too.”

  Flaherty stared at his wife and the picture she made with the babe in her arms, and their three little girls surrounding her on the bed. “I’m thinking we’ll name our next son after me other favorite uncle—Patrick. He’s been watching over our brood since I married yer ma.”

  Temperance sighed. “Rory, you do know that I love you, don’t you?”

  “Aye, lass.”

  “If you continue to talk about me having another babe hours after I just gave birth, I will have to hurt you.”

  Maddy frowned. “Mum, don’t hurt Da. He loves you. He loves us.”

  “That I do, mo chroí,” Flaherty said.

  “Uncle Aiden and Aunt Emily have sons,” Rose added.

  “Three of them!” Honey piped up.

  “And we have three darling girls—and a son,” Temperance said.

  “That’s enough talk for now, girls,” Flaherty interrupted. “Maddy, will ye read to yer sisters while I speak with yer ma?”

  “Yes, Da.”

  He helped the twins off the bed and scooted them to the other side of the cottage, then waited until they were settled on the settee and listening intently while their older sister read them a story about a princess and a castle in the air.

  He walked back and sat on the edge of the bed. “That glint is still in yer eye, lass. It has me thinking I shouldn’t close me eyes tonight. Should I remind ye that ye love me?”

  Temperance leaned against him. “I love you to distraction, Rory. Paul Donal takes after you with broad shoulders.”

  He winced. “I’m sorry the birthing was hard on ye, lass.”

  “The twins were smaller. This time our babe had more room to grow.”

  “Rest against me, lass. I’ve got ye both.” He pressed his lips to her temple and inhaled the faint scent of roses and raindrops. “Ye’re braver than meself, lass. Closer yer eyes now and sleep.” He’d rather be surrounded by a host of blackguards wielding blades, cudgels, and pistols than give birth!

  Nestled in his arms, their babe fell asleep first, then his brave and courageous wife.

  Flaherty silently said a prayer of thanks for his wife, his children, and his life. He was surrounded by family, and had the honor of working for a man he admired. The duke had had the foresight to understand that his men’s wives were of equal value to his own…and above all, in the eyes of the Lord.

  Listening to the lilting sound of Maddy’s voice as she read to her sisters soothed Flaherty. The delicate snore of his wife and the tiny sounds from their new babe warmed his heart and had him praying for just one more son—after Temperance fully recovered from giving birth.

  Nine months later to the day, Temperance gave birth to healthy twin sons. And, much to his delight, she agreed to name them Patrick and Aiden.

  About the Author

  If we have not met yet, I’m delighted to meet you. Here’s a little bit about me…

  I have been writing romance novels for almost half my life—well, at least for the last thirty years. I’m a die-hard romantic and have to confess the broad shoulders and wicked glint in the brilliant green eyes of a stranger had my breath snagging in my breast, my heart beating madly, and my future flashing before my eyes. At the age of seventeen, I’d met the man I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

  I write Historical & Contemporary Romance featuring characters that I know so well: hardheaded heroes and feisty heroines! They rarely listen to me and in fact, I think they enjoy messing with my plans for them. Over the years I have learned to listen to them. I have always used family names in my books and love adding bits and pieces of my ancestors and ancestry in them, too! Visit my website to learn more about my books.

  C.H.’s Social Media Links:

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