Chapter Ten

T he vicar stared at his wife for a few moments before speaking. "I trust you realize that when I deem the time has arrived and it is no longer safe for you to be here, I plan to accept the baron's offer of protection… before disaster strikes a second time."

Her mouth gaped open, and he realized she had mistakenly thought he had accepted her decision and would not force them to flee to the baron's estate. His wife was partially right—he wouldn't force them, but he would personally deliver them to the baron's doorstep!

"Josephine, you do know that I love you and appreciate everything you do as my partner tending to my congregation." Her soft smile was her answer. The vicar continued, "This matter will not be brushed under the rug, nor do I feel it will magically disappear. You must understand that when I feel you are putting our daughter, niece, Olivia, and yourself in danger, I will pack you up, kicking and screaming if needs must, and drive the carriage-load of you to Summerfield Chase myself!"

Instead of the righteous indignation he anticipated, his wife closed the distance between them, wrapped her arms around him, and laid her cheek against his heart. "I love you, Bertram, and promise when you tell me it is time to leave, I will gather the girls—and drag them with me if necessary."

He blew out the breath he'd been holding and slid his arms around her. "I am delighted to hear it, wife."

*

"What do you think that was all about?" Melanie whispered to Caroline.

"It sounded as if Uncle never intended for us to remain, but compromised. He'll insist on us leaving when it becomes too dangerous for us to stay here."

"What about what Mum said before about helping him?"

Caroline's eyes filled. "My mum would have said and done the same, though I am not certain she would have capitulated as quickly as yours." They watched her aunt and uncle from the back door where they stood with the basket of sweet-smelling folded linens. Caroline hoped to find a man someday who would trust her to make her own decisions, but would be ready to step in when, or if, he felt it necessary in order to protect her. Her heat beat faster, and she wondered… Could O'Malley be that man?

"Papa may be a bit gruff at times," Melanie admitted, "especially when Mum doesn't readily agree with him. But he loves us dearly."

Caroline shifted the laundry basket and deliberately bumped it against the back door, alerting the couple that they were returning from their chore. She was reminded of her parents when her aunt slowly eased out of her uncle's arms. Both couples shared a deep, abiding love and respect for one another. Proof of that was her uncle's agreement to allow them to stay in the village…at least for the time being.

"How long do you think my father will wait before he packs us up and delivers us to the baron's estate?" Melanie asked.

"Until word that Anderson is on his way arrives through the gossip chain that connects London to the inns along North Road," Caroline replied.

Her cousin sighed. "That's what I was afraid of."

"Thank you so much for bringing the linens in." Aunt Josephine smiled and waved them toward the staircase. "I'll be right up to help you make the beds."

"Melanie and I can handle the task," Caroline said. "Weren't you about to put on the kettle when O'Ghill arrived and distracted you?"

"Caro's right, Mum. We will make the beds and be down to join you for a cup, if that is all right with you."

"Thank you, my dears," the vicar rumbled. "We have something we wish to discuss with the two of you when you return."

Melanie led the way up the stairs, holding one end of the basket, while Caroline had the other. "We already know what they want to tell us. Can you think of a way that we can get around going to Summerfield Chase, Caro?"

"Eventually we may have no choice but to go," Caroline said.

"I realize that, but I need to be in the village to say goodbye to Killian when he leaves."

Caroline reached the top of the stairs and tugged on her end of the basket. "When did you start calling him by his given name?"

"Oh, right away," Melanie answered, "though only when it is just the two of us."

Frowning at her cousin, Caroline asked, "Just how often did the two of you meet and speak privately?"

"Not often," Melanie replied, tugging the basket toward her. "And before you ask, no, it was not his idea to meet privately. It was mine!"

"And he agreed with you? Did he not realize that anyone seeing the two of you alone could be cause for gossip, and possibly have forced your father to demand that O'Ghill marry you to save your reputation?"

Melanie giggled. "Of course not, silly. That was my plan."

"You would be consigning yourself to a life of unhappiness if O'Ghill does not care for you in that way. He is a grown man, and I cannot see him as one who would appreciate being trapped, forced into marrying a woman more than a decade younger than him."

"Are you saying that I'm not woman enough?" Melanie demanded.

Caroline bit the end of her tongue. She would have to take back her words and tread carefully, lest her headstrong cousin do something she, and O'Ghill, would regret. "Not at all. There was a young woman in our village who did just what you are suggesting, forcing the man she wanted to marry her. He did so with a blunderbuss pressed to his spine, and a few months later, he slipped away in the middle of the night."

Melanie's eyes widened before narrowing on Caroline. "But he came back, didn't he?"

Caroline shook her head. "He never did. He left behind more than his young wife… Lizzy delivered their babe seven months later."

Her cousin frowned and stared at her hands holding the basket's handle for a few moments. "They anticipated their vows."

"Yes."

"And he left without ever thinking she may be carrying his babe?"

Caroline noted the concern in her cousin's eyes and was relieved. "Aye."

"Did he not have a conscience? How could he leave her without his support, or considering the possibility that she would have his babe to raise on her own?"

"Apparently he did not, as he was never seen again. O'Ghill would ever act in such a way. But neither of us have any idea how he would react with his back to the wall, forced to marry. I told you about Lizzy because I wanted you to open your eyes and realize the world is far from what we've always read in fairytales, Melanie. Lizzy was a kind and a gregarious young woman… She reminded me of you."

"Was?" Melanie whispered.

Caroline's eyes welled with tears. She did not hold them back when she whispered, "Lizzy left her babe on her parents' doorstep in a basket, just like this one, in the middle of the night." The memory of the shock that reverberated through her little village swept through her. "They found her floating facedown in the pond by the church the next morning."

Melanie dropped her hand from her mouth long enough to ask, "And her babe?"

"His grandparents have been raising him these four years past."

"Did the man she coerced into marrying her ever return?"

"He was never seen again."

Melanie squared her shoulders and tossed her head. "A sad tale, Caro, but Killian would never act as that blackhearted man did." She tugged the basket out of Caroline's grasp and walked into the first bedchamber.

Knowing her cousin's mercurial temperament, Caroline followed her without a word. In silence they made the first bed, and the next two. When she could not stand the silent treatment another moment, Caroline said, "It would break my heart to lose you. I treasure your friendship, Melanie."

Her cousin was still miffed, but her temper had cooled. "I know that, but it bothers me that you thought you had to share such a tale of woe with me, thinking I am not old enough to understand the ramifications of what could happen if I encouraged Killian."

"Though it upset you, I would tell you again in a heartbeat if I thought it would sway you from running away with him."

"What makes you think he hasn't already asked?"

Caroline's mouth opened and closed without her uttering a sound.

Melanie swept past her, leaving the empty basket behind. With a heavy sigh, Caroline mumbled to herself, "That was my warning not to interfere, but I will press her until she confides if O'Ghill has asked her to run away." She shook her head at the thought, disbelieving it. Caroline had had to learn how to judge a person's character quickly after her father died. Sadly, she knew firsthand that there were those bent on taking advantage of a young woman alone, caring for her desperately ill mother.

Melanie may have grown up since the last time I was here, but I still have four years of life experience on her and will not let her toss hers away…or throw herself at O'Ghill, hoping he will catch her with open arms.

Resolved, she picked up the basket and headed down the stairs to the discussion she knew would revolve around O'Ghill and the danger headed their way.

Everyone was seated around the kitchen table after she stored the basket in the alcove.

"Thank you for taking care of that, Caro. Melanie should have put the basket away and not left it to you to do."

"I don't mind, Aunt Josephine," Caroline replied, taking a seat where a steaming cup of tea waited for her. "Thank you for the tea."

Her uncle passed the pitcher of cream. She thanked him and added a dollop to her teacup. Stirring it, she lifted her gaze to meet Melanie's, but her cousin quickly looked away. It would obviously take some time before she was ready to see reason.

"Now then, my dears," the vicar began. "We have discussed the situation fully while you were making the beds and have come to an agreement."

Melanie set down her teacup, and Caroline did the same. "What did you and Mum agree on?"

"When I feel the situation has become unsafe," her father answered, "you and Caroline will retrieve the bags you will have already packed with essentials for a sennight, and get in the carriage without a word of complaint or dissention."

"I see," Melanie murmured.

"Furthermore, you will not utter one complaint when I deliver the three of you into the baron's care and the protection of the duke's guard." Melanie opened her mouth, and her father raised his hand in the air. "The topic is closed. There will be no further discussion, nor will there be any hysterics when the moment arrives. In this I will be obeyed!"

Caroline marveled at the forceful tone her uncle used, as he so rarely had to employ it. Afraid to speak before her cousin had the opportunity to, she nodded. She saw the relief in his eyes.

"Although I may have disagreed earlier when O'Ghill was here," Aunt Josephine said, "your father and I are in full agreement in this. Neither of us will bargain when your lives—and Olivia's—are in danger."

"Yes, Papa," Melanie eventually said. "Caro and I will pack a bag after we finish our tea. Papa?"

Caroline ached at the frustration in the vicar's gaze. She sensed it had more to do with the horror of Melanie's abduction than anything else. He must have felt so helpless.

"Yes?" he replied.

"I'm sorry, Papa. I truly do not try to vex you."

His loud sigh had his wife pressing her lips together to keep from speaking, though Caroline noted the mischievous glint in her aunt's eyes and knew she had something to say. "I pray that it is a happy accident, daughter."

Melanie ducked her head and stared at her hands instead of her father. "I truly am sorry."

He cleared his throat. "Now then, we shall speak no more of vexing and disagreeing, understood?"

The chorus of yeses seemed to please him, and Caroline let go of the breath she had held waiting for the situation to be resolved. Thankfully it had, because Heaven only knew what the morrow would bring.