Chapter Thirty

The air was still as Dermott dismounted and hid his mount in a copse of trees near the side entrance of Trenchert Manor. He motioned to Stratford and Varley—Flaherty was out of commission until he healed. The first lead ball had struck him in the back, high enough on his shoulder that it didn't crack the bone. The second had grazed his upper arm.

Setting the worry for his cousin aside, Dermott led the way to the north side of the house. Varley had reported that the window to the small breakfast room was never locked. Dermott prayed the information held true. He needed a quick way in and out. Leaving the two men to stand guard, he made his way over to the building. The Lord and the fates were with them, as no one was about. He raised the window and silently slipped over the sill inside.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he navigated around chairs and tables into the hallway. Though he expected to be stopped, he wasn't. An eerie sense of foreboding threatened to distract him. He ignored it and forged ahead to the door to the servants' side of the house. Ascending, he made sure to step to the side—and not the middle of the steps—to avoid any creaks.

He paused at the top, opened the door, and slipped through. Counting the doors from where he stood, he noted all but one sconce had a candle burning—the one outside the viscount's bedchamber. A whisper of sound had him prepared for attack.

The moves were swift as he exchanged blows with one of the viscount's men. Time was short. He kneed the man in the bollocks. The man moaned, and Dermott quickly silenced him, adding pressure on the man's neck until he collapsed unconscious.

He straightened and stood, poised on the balls of his feet, more than ready to take on the two men who rushed him. After dispatching them as he had the first man, he drew in a breath and slowly exhaled. Time to beard the dragon in his den.

He was surprised that the door was not locked as he slowly turned the handle and opened it a crack. His gaze swept the room, lingering on the darkened corners before settling on the lump beneath the covers. He'd forgotten how rotund the older man was. From the scent wafting toward him as he approached the bed, he resigned himself to the fact the viscount was sotted, stank of brandy and sweat, and was in dire need of a bath.

The man was easily rendered unconscious, given his drunken state. Hefting him over his shoulder, ignoring the God-awful stench, Dermott retraced his steps. The men he'd overpowered in the upper hallway were stirring. He quickly made it to the servants' staircase and descended. A guttural sound had him striking out with his fist to his left without looking. The satisfying groan that followed had him quickening his steps to the room he had used to gain entry. Knowing he was minutes away from discovery, he locked the door behind him and rushed over to the still-open window. Instead of sticking his head out to see if the coast was clear, he shoved the viscount out first.

He snorted, swallowing his laughter when a man dove out of the shadows and tackled the viscount. Grateful for the cover of darkness, he slipped out of the window and snuck up behind the guard, taking him out with the same silent method he'd used on the others. Expecting attack, he hefted his smelly burden over his shoulder and raced toward his horse. Stratford was waiting for him. "There's a man right outside the side window. Grab him and bring him with us. He was the one who tackled the viscount and pummeled him, thinking he had captured an intruder. We'll need him to confess that to the earl. We cannot let the viscount think I was the one who laid a hand on him. He'd use it to his advantage against me."

Stratford ran toward the house, returning by the time Dermott had secured the viscount's hands and had him lying across his horse. With a nod, Stratford did the same. They urged their mounts to a walk, only increasing to a trot when they met up with Varley and were well away from Trenchert Manor.

"What of the others?" Varley asked. "Will you be sending a contingent of men back for them?"

Dermott shook his head. "We can, though once they discover that we have the viscount, they'll scatter to parts unknown and disappear, like the scum they are."

Varley moved his horse alongside Dermott's. "You don't believe they'll retaliate, and try to free the viscount?"

"From all that we've heard about Trenchert, and what we've seen of those he's hired, they will not feel any allegiance toward the man."

The rode the rest of the way in silence, approaching Lippincott Manor as the sky began to lighten. Sean was guarding the perimeter when they arrived. He rushed over to Dermott and lifted the moaning burden off the horse. "God help us, what is that smell?"

Dermott sighed. "'Tis the viscount." He lifted his arm and gagged. "And 'tis on meself from carting the man from his bedchamber." He dismounted and sniffed his gelding's neck. "Ye poor laddie. Ye reek of his stench too."

Sean and the others snorted with laughter as the rear door to the manor house opened and the earl strode toward them. The look on his face had Dermott chuckling. "Before ye ask, the odor is from the viscount—and I did not lay a finger on him!" Nodding to the man struggling against his bonds and Stratford's hold on him, Dermott added, "Knowing he would have guards patrolling outside, I had the viscount go out of the window before me."

The earl stared at Dermott. "Willingly?"

"Ye might say that I convinced him to precede me. That's when the thug Stratford brought back tackled the viscount and started punching him. I did not want to interfere before I climbed out of the window." Dermott nodded. "Yer man here never heard me approach him until I had me arm around his throat."

The earl sighed. "I see that he doesn't have a mark on him."

"Not a one," Dermott agreed.

"We'll have to tend to the viscount's injuries before we summon the constable."

"I'm afraid I cannot let ye do so inside yer home, yer lordship—or have ye forgotten that he gave orders to abduct yer wife and mine, and orders to shoot anyone who tried to stop them?"

The earl put his hand on Dermott's shoulder. "I have not, and I was about to suggest we head to the outbuilding, where I know you have a ready supply of fresh linens, ointments, and herbals."

"Aye," Dermott replied, "and whiskey."

An hour later,the constable arrived and was escorted to the outbuilding where they were holding the viscount and one of his men.

"I've been waiting for word that you were holding the viscount for questioning since I received the missive from His Grace about the attempted abduction of her ladyship and Mrs. O'Malley, and the shooting of one of the duke's guard."

The earl sighed. "Did you receive my message about another attempted abduction of Mrs. O'Malley, and that the viscount's men shot and seriously injured another member of the duke's guard?"

The constable stared at the viscount, whose face was bruised and battered. "Aye. If I were you, I'd expect the viscount to level charges against one of your men for the beating—"

Lippincott interrupted, "One of the viscount's guards was responsible for the injuries. The man who inflicted the beating on the viscount already confessed."

"It is not that I do not credit what you have told me, your lordship, but I must satisfy my superiors that I have questioned everyone and ascertained the truth of the matter."

"Be my guest."

The constable extracted the information he needed from the viscount's man and returned to the earl. "I see that you have rendered aid to the viscount. Even after all he has done to Miss Eggerton—"

"Mrs. O'Malley," Dermott interrupted.

"Ah yes, congratulations, O'Malley," the constable said before continuing, "I commend you and your men for doing so. I shall pass the information on to the powers that be."

Sean helped the constable load the two men into the back of his wagon, and the earl asked, "Would you like an escort back to the village?"

The constable shook his head. "I checked their bonds, they are secure. But thank you for the offer. I shall be in touch."

The earl turned to his men. "Thank you for your efforts today, men. I do not believe Trenchert is known to run in Prinny's circle. With God's grace, he will remain in custody, facing the punishment for what he has done."

Sean walked over to stand next to Dermott, leaned close, and sniffed his shoulder. "Ye're in sore need of a bath, boy-o. Do ye prefer the horse's trough, or a hot tub?"

Dermott sighed. "I'd best start with the horse's trough. It's going to take more than one soaking—and soaping—to rid me of this stench."

The earl shook his head and said, "I'll have hot water delivered to the guest room—through the outer dressing room door. We don't want to wake Georgiana. She was still crying when Jenny left her two hours ago."

Dermott digested the news, asking, "Did ye not let her speak to Flaherty after the doctor patched him up?"

"I did," the earl was quick to respond. "Apparently she is worried that you will end up like Flaherty and not come back to her."

Dermott changed direction and headed toward the back of the manor house. But the earl raised a hand to stop him. "You'd best take that bath first."

Dermott lifted his arm to his nose and gagged. "Aye, yer lordship. If the lass is awake, please tell her I'm on me way to see her."

"I will."