“But I…” Flaherty fell silent. How could he tell his cousin that he’d fallen arse over head in love with the black-haired lass and her pixie of a daughter?

  Before he could form the words, O’Malley gave a slight nod. “So that’s the way of it?”

  “’Tisn’t like that,” Flaherty began, only to stop when his cousin raised his hand. As the head of their guard, every man deferred to O’Malley, who used the gesture exclusively when he had something to say.

  “Ye don’t have to explain,” his cousin told him. “As Garahan said, we all noticed.” All of the pent-up emotion fizzled out of Flaherty, as O’Malley continued, “Ye’d best get over whatever ails ye. We’ve no time to waste trying to rein in yer volatile temper.”

  “Aye,” Garahan agreed, nudging Greene with the toe of his boot. “What’ll we do with him?”

  “Same thing we’ve done with other prisoners,” Patrick replied. “We’ll ask two footmen to stand guard while the rest of ye return to yer posts. I need to speak to His Grace.” He turned his green-eyed gaze on Flaherty. “Ye’ll come with me to tell the duke what happened.”

  Flaherty grunted. “Ye just told me to man me station on the rooftop.”

  O’Malley narrowed his eyes, and Flaherty clenched his jaw. O’Malley had guessed correctly—Flaherty’s heart was taken. “Changed me mind.”

  Flaherty tried one last time. “I’m asking ye to send me to the inn to speak to Miss Harkness.”

  O’Malley stared at him until Flaherty could swear he felt the man’s fingers sorting through his thoughts. “I’ll suggest that ye be the one to go, but ’twill be up to His Grace.”

  Satisfied that he’d made his request, and his cousin would present it to the duke, Flaherty followed O’Malley to the house. Neither one spoke as they covered the distance. At the rear door to the building, O’Malley put his hand on Flaherty’s shoulder. “I’ve been in yer shoes, torn between duty and finding the other half of me heart. I nearly lost Gwendolyn because I didn’t think I could honor me vow to the duke and the one I wanted to say before the vicar when I married her.”

  Surprised by his cousin’s admission, Flaherty told him what he’d already decided: “I’m not certain it’s balancing me duty to His Grace and the one to me heart that’s needed. But I’m telling ye, I’ll not be letting Maddy or her ma leave without telling them what’s in me heart.” He cleared his throat to add, “If Temperance will have me, I’ll marry her and be da to Maddy.”

  O’Malley dropped his hand. “The tiny lasses have a way of grabbin’ hold of yer heart without ye knowin’ it. I’m not embarrassed to be admittin’ I handed mine over to me daughter when Deidre was minutes old.” He shook his head. “Took a bit longer for me heart to realize that Gwendolyn was the only one for me. They’re me life, Rory.”

  “I won’t let anyone speak ill of Temperance or Maddy,” Flaherty replied. “She’s yet to confide what happened to her husband, but I’m thinking ’twas a shock—tragic. It won’t matter; she’ll come around to realizing she needs me. They both do.”

  O’Malley’s eyes darkened. “What if she doesn’t?”

  “I’ll be marrying the lass in name only, if that’ll convince her that I’m meaning what I say. I’m the man she needs to watch over her and protect her and Maddy.”

  “What if the rumors are based on fact?”

  Fury sliced through Flaherty that his cousin would even suggest that Temperance had lied to him. He rounded on him. “Ye’ll eat those words now, and never repeat them!”

  O’Malley’s face was devoid of expression, his voice even as he challenged, “Or what?”

  “I’ll be resigning from me post. There’s no way I can work with anyone who’d question me gut. ’Tis what’s guided me through life and kept me safe.”

  Incredulous, O’Malley asked, “Ye’d break yer vow to His Grace?”

  “’Tisn’t breaking me vow to resign.” Though it gutted Flaherty to do so, he stretched the truth and said, “Working for the duke is like any other position. Ye know when it’s time to move on.”

  O’Malley’s lips thinned, but it was the tone of his voice that tipped Flaherty off to the fact that he wasn’t merely angry—he was furious. “’Tis a job few can handle, working side by side with family protecting the duke’s. Our brothers and cousins have bled for the duke. Our cousin Sean O’Malley nearly lost an arm. Darby Garahan is all but blind in one eye. Emmett, me youngest brother, died—if we can believe what we’ve been told—and was resuscitated. Yer older brother Seamus nearly bled to death when he was shot in the back…twice!”

  Flaherty’s anger was raging too close to the threshold where he would no longer be able to control it. “Aren’t ye forgetting the times our other brothers, cousins, and ourselves have been shot, knifed, and clubbed over the head?”

  “There’s no need. We both know the number of times is not the issue. Yer willingness to throw away all that we have built in these last two years working with Coventry and King in our bid to widen our web of protection over the duke and his family and extended family is!”

  Flaherty shoved O’Malley out of the way with his shoulder, grabbed the door handle, and yanked. He’d made his decision. He would ask the lass to marry him and promise to protect her and Maddy with his life when she accepted his offer. She did not need to love him—she needed to trust him.

  As for the harsh words he and O’Malley had tossed at one another, he’d meant every word. Though family was the glue…he’d given his heart to Maddy and Temperance. If they left, they’d be taking it with them. The shell of the man they’d be leaving behind would be of no good to his family or the duke.

  Halfway to the kitchen, O’Malley grabbed hold of Flaherty’s arm. “I’ll have yer word now that there will be no more talk of resigning until we ferret out the truth.”

  “Aye, but I’ll not be forgetting that ye’d even suggest Temperance isn’t telling the truth. I cannot work with any man—family or not—who is so quick to judge the woman I love.”

  O’Malley glared at Flaherty. Flaherty glared back, two hulking brutes challenging one another over hard words, and the one thing neither of them could tolerate or accept…being lied to.

  Flaherty knew he owed it to his cousin’s position as head of the guard to be the first to capitulate. He gave a brief nod.

  O’Malley scrubbed a hand over his face and did the same, and the tension eased. “I’ll do the talkin’.”

  Flaherty snorted. “Don’t ye always?”

  Though he’d tossed his resignation in O’Malley’s face when his temper was up, now that it had cooled, Flaherty realized that he’d meant it. For Temperance and Maddy, he would walk away from the life he and his brothers and cousins had built. The foundation had faltered a few weeks ago when his brother Seamus and their cousin James Garahan had gone so far as to send resignation missives to the duke, due to a situation that involved Viscount Chattsworth and Seamus. Though it had been settled, the idea that the duke’s guard was not as tight nor as solid as everyone believed had been brought to light.

  Brothers had been known to turn their backs on one another when their core beliefs had been challenged—but they would eventually come around and stand side by side. Cousins did not always have as strong a bond as brothers, and there was often a bit of healthy jealousy between them. Toss together sixteen hardheaded Irishmen—brothers and cousins equal in strength and size—and you had the makings of a melee Flaherty would pay money to be a part of.

  Flaherty always preferred using his fists to weapons. It was far more personal. He’d go along with O’Malley for the moment, but if he did not convince the duke to allow Flaherty to go to the inn to question either the innkeeper or his sister, all wagers were null and void.

  His future wife and family were being threatened.

  Chapter Ten

  Satisfaction filled Flaherty as he rode to the village. O’Malley had convinced the duke that Flaherty be the one to question Harkness’s sister, with the caveat that Garahan would accompany him. Garahan would lay down his life for him—and Flaherty would do the same for his cousin. When push came to shove and the choice was between an O’Malley and a Garahan for aid, Flaherty would choose a Garahan any day. His brother Seamus had too.

  “Ye gave yer word not to let that hot head of yours rule yer gob,” Garahan reminded him.

  “Leave me mouth out of it,” Flaherty grumbled. “I know what I said.”

  “Ah, but when the heart’s involved, a man tends to lose his better sense.”

  Flaherty snorted. “Is that happened to ye? Faith, ye haven’t been the same since ye married Emily.”

  Garahan continued to scan his side of the road for possible sharpshooters, thugs, and blackguards. “She’s me life, Rory.”

  “Aye, so ye shouldn’t have all that much trouble pulling back on yer decision to use any means to get Harkness’s sister to tell us what she knows.”

  “She’ll be telling me.”

  Flaherty disagreed. “If she tells anyone, she’ll be telling me. Ye fought yer battles and won Emily’s heart. Though to hear Emily tell it, she was the one responsible for changing yer mind when ye had that maggot in yer head and were riding away without her.”

  “I was following orders,” Garahan grumbled.

  “Ye could not ignore the agony in her voice as she asked ye to wait.”

  Garahan’s lips inched upward before he squelched the urge to smile. “That was then. This is now. I’ll have yer word that you will not cause a scene or make the innkeeper’s sister cry.”

  “She wasn’t there the last time we thought to question her.”

  “We were able to speak to guests of the inn,” Garahan reminded him.

  “Aye, but I need to question her. I gave money to Scruggs to see that Temperance and Maddy were fed. She’ll tell me why she refused to serve them and why she spread lies about them. God knows what she planned to do with the information Greene was sent to gather! If the evil harpy doesn’t tell me the reason she’s started this campaign against Temperance, I’ll do—”

  “Nothing,” Garahan told him. “Ye’ll gain nothing if ye come on too strong questioning the woman. Besides, we cannot take the chance she’d taint the food or drink for anyone from the duke’s household in retaliation because ye had yer head turned and yer heart yearning for something that isn’t meant to be.”

  Flaherty felt gut-punched. “Are ye saying I’m not worthy of reaching for what ye found? Am I not man enough to hold on to the woman who has me head in a spin, me mind in a jumble?”

  “And yer heart?” Garahan demanded when they gently pulled back on the reins to slow their horses as they approached the village.

  “I’ve an ache in me chest where me heart used to be. I’ve left it behind with Temperance and Maddy.”

  Garahan held Flaherty’s gaze. “I needed to know if ye realized how deep in love ye are. Leave it yerself to fall arse over head with a curly-haired moppet and her widowed ma.”

  “Bugger yerself.”

  Garahan grinned. “If only I was that flexible.”

  Flaherty snorted. “Ye’ve a foul mind, Aiden.”

  “Sure and wasn’t it yerself that suggested it?” Garahan quipped.

  Flaherty snickered. “Shut yer gob.”

  Garahan nodded. “Are we agreed? I’ll take the lead questioning Miss Harkness?”

  It was the very last thing Flaherty wanted, but he knew Garahan was right. It would be the best way to get the information out of the innkeeper’s sister. Garahan’s heart wasn’t on the line—Flaherty’s was. “Aye. Though I’d rather do the asking.”

  As they approached the inn, Garahan said, “Here’s what I’m thinking. Ye let me do the talking, until ye hear me tell her ’tis fine if she doesn’t want to speak with us. That’s when ye chime in and say our next stop is to speak with the constable.”

  Flaherty wasn’t certain that Susana Harkness would be afraid of the constable. “Can we trust that she hasn’t turned his head with her wiles?”

  “We’ll find out,” Garahan replied. “Though from what we both know, he’s a devoted family man.”

  “Best to be wary,” Flaherty warned.

  “Two heads,” Garahan murmured as he hailed the hostler.

  The men dismounted as Scruggs walked over to take their horses. “You’re early today.”

  “Aye,” Flaherty replied. “We need to have a word with—”

  Scruggs interrupted, “You’d best not press Harkness’s sister too hard.”

  “What makes ye think we’ve come to speak with her?” Garahan asked.

  “I know that Flaherty was the one to ask me to keep an eye on Mrs. Johnson and her daughter for him. I tried to get them to stay. She never said a word about not being served. If I had known, I would have taken care of it for you, Flaherty.”

  Flaherty inclined his head.

  “The next thing I know, Miss Harkness is whispering into any ear that will listen about a widow who is not really a widow, and a little girl who looks nothing like her mother.”

  Flaherty struggled to keep a lid on his temper. “Are you warning us not to question her?”

  “You know I would never stand in the way of yourselves or the other guards. I have a wife and three children and know how it feels to worry for their safety and wellbeing. I’m warning you to be cautious. Harkness is overprotective of his sister, and when cornered, she’ll lie.”

  Flaherty tamped down his frustration. “Thank ye, Scruggs. Know that if ye ever need help, ye’ve but to ask.”

  “Thank you.”

  Garahan asked, “Have ye heard anything else regarding the lass and her daughter?”

  “Just what I told you. I will keep my ear to the ground and send word if I hear more.”

  Flaherty clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Thank ye.”

  Scruggs frowned. “There is one other thing.”

  “What’s that?” Garahan asked.

  “One of the stable hands has yet to arrive. He’s normally a good lad, arriving early for the day, works hard and doesn’t mind a bit of criticism when it’s warranted.”

  “Greene?” Flaherty asked.

  Scruggs sighed. “If you know his name, then I don’t have to ask where he is.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Garahan assured him.

  “What happened?” the hostler asked.

  “We’ll fill ye in later. We need to speak with Miss Harkness first.”

  “She should be in the main taproom—she’s not one you’ll find up to her elbows kneading dough.”

  Garahan snicked, and Flaherty’s lips lifted into a crooked smile. “Paints a picture, Scruggs. Thank ye.”

  “I’ll take care of your mounts for you.”

  They thanked the man, strode across the innyard to the front of the building, and stepped inside.

  “There,” Flaherty whispered. “By the fireplace, giving that well-dressed nob a healthy view of her charms.”

  Garahan grumbled, “I’m doing the talking.”

  Flaherty followed him toward the fireplace.

  Garahan approached them. “Miss Harkness, we’d like a word with ye.”

  Her eyes locked on Flaherty. She slowly straightened in a way that could only be described as sinuous. Flaherty had little use for women who used their bodies instead of words. That kind of a ploy wouldn’t work on any of the men in the duke’s guard—married or not! A brief look out of the corner of his eye indicated the merchant she’d been reeling in was still paying rapt attention to the woman.

  Brushing a hand along the curve of her hip, she lowered her lashes, fluttered them, and finally looked away from Flaherty. “That would depend on what the word is.” She stared at him for a few moments. “You’re Garahan.”

  “That’s right. Where can we speak privately?”

  A smug, satisfied expression settled on her face. “Follow me.” When Flaherty and Garahan started to follow her, she smiled. “Both of you want to speak to me?”

  “Aye,” Flaherty answered. “Unless I’m mistaken, we indicates more than one person.”

  She furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes at Flaherty, but Garahan distracted her. “I did say we, Miss Harkness. Is that a problem?”

  Still frowning at Flaherty, she said, “I don’t like the tone of your voice.”

  Flaherty wanted to shake the woman. Before he could speak, Garahan said, “I beg yer pardon, but we are here at the request of His Grace.”

  Flaherty bit the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out, As if ye didn’t already know that.

  She licked her lips and twitched her hips, walking ahead of them. Without turning around, she said, “I’m certain I can handle the two of you.”

  “We have a few questions for ye. It won’t take long.” Garahan’s voice sounded strained, as if he were suppressing the urge to shout.

  Flaherty understood the need, for it had him by the bollocks too. The woman’s ploy was obvious. Did her brother know how she spoke to the male customers in their inn? He’d be asking Harkness that question himself.

  Susana led them to a small room off the kitchen, on the other side of the pantry. Garahan and Flaherty let her enter the room first, but Flaherty moved to block her from reaching around them to close and lock the door. When she started to protest, he cut her off. “’Tis a small space.”

  “Aye,” Garahan agreed, following Flaherty’s lead. “Reminds me of that cave-in.”

  The calculating look in the woman’s eyes smoothed out into one laced with concern. “How awful.”

  “Aye,” Flaherty agreed. “How long were we trapped, Garahan?”

  Without missing a beat, his cousin answered, “Three days.”

  That seemed to distract the woman from her illicit thoughts. Flaherty had not minded being seduced in the past. But he’d never been attracted to or tempted by someone who had been pushing her charms into another man’s face moments before.

  “You must have been terrified.”

  Garahan shrugged. “I wasn’t, but me cousin was.”

  Flaherty could have happily leveled his cousin with clip to the jaw. But instead he drew in a lungful of air and exhaled slowly. Damned if the woman didn’t take that to mean he had been terrified.