Chapter Fifteen

"W hat do ye mean, no one has seen or heard from Anderson?" O'Malley could not believe both King's and Coventry's men had lost track of the man.

The baron frowned. "I just sent off two missives asking that question. Obviously, our current course of action does not change simply because Anderson managed to elude the men following him. We will not pull back on our protection detail, nor will we relax our vigil."

"I'm relieved to hear ye say as much, yer lordship. If ye had suggested it, I would have talked ye out of it. We'll need to be on guard. Anderson may have stopped along the way and changed his mode of transportation, possibly even disguised himself."

The baron clasped his hands behind his back and paced in front of the terrace doors.

O'Malley followed Summerfield with his eyes, taking it all in: the frustration in his lordship's steps. The taut muscles in his face. The baron paused to watch his wife lying on the fainting couch, prompting O'Malley to wonder at which point the baron had known he would give his life for Lady Phoebe. When she had been abducted en route to Sussex, and Summerfield, himself, and the others had rescued her? If not that, was it the bravery she displayed attempting to free the baron when he was kidnapped? Whichever event, it had been the catalyst that brought the two of them together, determined to marry…no matter who objected.

Although O'Malley worked for the baron, he did not feel comfortable asking such a personal question.

He was relieved when the baron gave in to Lady Phoebe's request to sit on the terrace, and had two footmen carry the couch downstairs to place on the terrace overlooking their gardens. Her ladyship had been far too pale since her injury.

As O'Malley studied the lady he had sworn to protect, and would give his life for, his worry abated. She was recovering from her injury, wrapped in a blanket to keep the slight breeze from giving her a chill, soaking up the late spring sunshine.

He curled his hands into fists at his sides, thinking of another woman who'd recently been injured, although not by the blackguard he suspected was headed toward their village of Summerfield-on-Eden…but by her exuberant younger cousin.

O'Malley was about so say how well her ladyship looked when the baron spun around and walked over to stand beside him. "How was Miss Gillingham feeling when you stopped to check in on her and Miss Chessy earlier this morning?"

"Miss Chessy was helping her ma in the kitchen when I arrived. Miss Gillingham was on the settee, where she apparently spent the night…sitting up."

"Did they physician advise her not to lie down?"

"I asked her the same question. She said she was afraid she would roll over and press on her cheek."

"Ah, understandable, but not conducive to a good night's rest. How did she look to you?

O'Malley swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue. He was certain the baron did not want to know that the pain lingered in her soft gray eyes, cooling the warmth he had grown accustomed to seeing. "The swelling has gone down, and there's a bit of bruising."

Summerfield nodded. "The vicar and Mrs. Chessy will summon the physician if they suspect there is a hint of infection or if their niece is not healing as expected. Was Miss Gillingham happy to see you this morning?"

"Aye, yer lordship. Poor lass started to smile, then had to bite on her lip to keep from doing so. The doctor warned that she has to be careful not to move her facial muscles too much until the rest of the swelling goes down. It tugs on the threads and could open one of the stitches."

"Best be cautious picking topics to speak about when you see her tomorrow," the baron advised.

O'Malley hesitated. "I was not planning to see her tomorrow, since I already switched a shift with Flaherty to fit a quick visit into me patrol to the village and back this morning. I won't be shirking me duty to make a habit of visiting when I should be attending to me job."

"What if I ordered you to?" Summerfield asked quietly.

O'Malley's shoulders slumped. There was no way he could ignore a direct order. "Do ye mind if I ask why ye would?"

The baron laid a hand on O'Malley's shoulder. "Because I see the same look in your eyes when you speak of Miss Gillingham that I used to see reflected back at me in my looking glass after meeting Phoebe." Dropping his hand, he said, "We cannot ignore what our hearts tell us any more than we can ignore a cry for help when we have the ability to lend our aid. Every one of the married men in the duke's guard have managed to balance their duty to His Grace with their wives and babes. I see no reason you could not do the same."

O'Malley was shaking his head. "'Tisn't like that at all, yer lordship." How could he put into words the muddled feelings he felt where the lass was concerned? Protective. Dazzled. Frustrated. Charmed. "Ye see, I was after making the lass smile to take her mind off the scar she's worrying she'll have."

"How exactly did you hope to make her forget? By visiting her whenever time allowed?"

"I was thinking to discuss it with ye first, but I have asked her to tea at the inn when she's able to remove the bandage. The wrapping is cumbersome and would have all heads turning to gawk at the poor lass, whispering about what happened to her and speculating as to what the scar will look like."

"So, you are concerned for what others may say about her and how they may treat her."

O'Malley frowned, then admitted, "Aye, that's part of it."

"I see. And when you visited with her this morning, you promised to take her to tea as soon as the bandage comes off. It sounds as if you have feelings for her and are, in your own way, courting Miss Gillingham."

The knock on the door interrupted O'Malley's reply.

"Enter."

"Begging yer pardon, yer lordship, but I could not help but overhear ye speaking of Caroline and me cousin," O'Ghill said as he joined O'Malley and the baron.

"Do you have information about Miss Gillingham?" Summerfield said.

O'Ghill locked gazes with O'Malley. When O'Malley shook his head, O'Ghill ignored the warning, grinned, and said, "Me cousin intends to sweep Caroline off her feet and marry her."

The baron looked at O'Ghill and then O'Malley. "Congratulations, O'Malley. When do you plan to ask Miss Gillingham?"

"I haven't begun to court the lass yet!"

"Best get to it, O'Malley," the baron warned. "With Anderson giving King and Coventry's men the slip, he could arrive here any day. Don't you want her to have the protection of your name?"

"Aye," O'Ghill agreed. "Ye'll not be wanting yer intended to be in the thick of things, now would ye?"

O'Malley groaned. "I'd best be at me post, yer lordship."

To his frustration, O'Ghill followed him out of the room. Giving in to the emotion, O'Malley shoved his cousin with his shoulder. O'Ghill snorted with laughter as he followed O'Malley down the hallway.

"Ye won't be laughing if Anderson gets his hands on Melanie again," O'Malley warned.

O'Ghill's face lost all expression. "He'll be a dead man walking if he touches one hair on her head."

"Are ye planning to court Melanie?"

"She's too young."

Turning the tables on his irritating cousin, O'Malley agreed, "Aye, but yer heart knows what it wants, despite her age, O'Ghill. What are ye going to do about it?"

"I'll be staying until Anderson makes his move, and we capture the bloody bugger. That's it."

"That doesn't answer me question about Miss Chessy," O'Malley said.

O'Ghill kept pace as O'Malley walked toward the door to the servants' side of the house and yanked it open. "What do ye expect me to do?"

O'Malley spun around and got right in his cousin's face. "Tell the lass how ye feel! Life is too short to let the other half of yer heart slip away from ye because of a small thing like her age. Did ye forget there are plenty of lasses back home who marry at the same age?"

"Not as many as in our parents' time," O'Ghill reminded him. "Besides, why didn't ye say this to his lordship? Have ye even told Caroline how ye feel?"

"In a way." O'Malley figured the midnight kiss they'd shared should have spoken volumes to the lass. "I'm thinking the vicar's daughter knows her heart. I've seen the way she looks at ye when she thinks no one's looking."

Killian shoved Thomas into the wall. "And I noticed the way Caroline watches yerself when ye aren't paying her any mind."

A warmth slowly seeped into O'Malley's gut and wrapped around his heart. "Her eyes are the color of morning mist. I have to watch meself, else I get lost in their soft gray depths."

"Ye'd best be following yer own advice, O'Malley, before the lass slips out of yer hands."

"What if she thinks I'm only courting her because she was injured?"

"Why in the bloody hell would she think that?" O'Ghill demanded.

"I was trying to distract her to keep her from thinking about her stitches and asked her to tea. 'Tis a concern that she'll try to hide in the vicarage even after she heals."

"Ah, then ye don't feel more than friendship for the lass?" O'Ghill asked.

O'Malley groaned. "I cannot close me eyes at night without seeing her soft smile, her glorious red head, freckles, and spectacles. I can't decide if I want to claim her, or if I love her."

"Ah, so ye do have feelings for Caroline."

"Aye. They've got me twisted up inside."

"How deep a hold does she have on ye?" O'Ghill asked.

O'Malley had to admit, "Down to me bones."

"Ye're in love, boy-o."

O'Malley snorted. "How would I know? I've never felt this way before." When O'Ghill moved to stand in his way, O'Malley elbowed him aside. "I'm late for me shift on the rooftop. Why aren't ye in town guarding the vicarage?"

"His lordship decided we needed to rotate shifts there as well. Did he not mention it?"

O'Malley grumbled, "We spoke of other things."

"Ah, that explains it. He knew I would be telling ye," O'Ghill replied. "When ye have the village patrol, ye'll be staying at the smithy, and I'll return here to take yer post for the day."

O'Malley's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He would be able to see the lass and keep her spirits up while she healed. Gut-punched, he rasped, "Thank ye, Killian."

O'Ghill nodded. "Me pleasure, Thomas."

They parted, going their separate ways. O'Malley could not wait to stop at the vicarage and speak with the woman who had yet to realize she held his heart in her hands.