Chapter Seventeen

O 'Malley knocked and was bidden to enter, followed by Garahan and Flaherty. The baron acknowledged the men and turned to O'Malley. "How is Miss Gillingham this morning?"

"Once she put her spectacles on, much improved, yer lordship. Without them it was as if she had two injuries instead of just one. Not to ignore the seriousness of the gash in her cheek, but 'twill heal, while her eyesight will not improve without spectacles."

Summerfield's lips twitched. "I'm happy to hear that you found and returned her lenses to her. Your long-winded answer to my question has me wondering if Mrs. Chessy invited you to tea and served her cream tarts. She is quite famous for them at gatherings in the village."

O'Malley could not keep from grinning. "They were delicious."

"I can only imagine, as I have not yet had the opportunity to taste one. The last three times she baked and set out her tarts on the table for the baked goods at the church fair, they were gone in minutes."

"I could put in a good word for ye, yer lordship. Mayhap she'll surprise ye and drop off a plate of her tarts."

Summerfield's eyes narrowed as if he were considering it. "Thank you for the offer, but I believe I will wait my turn like the rest of the villagers do." He glanced at the men surrounding him and said, "I received a message from Coventry. It's good news. Tremayne and Masterson have been working undercover, feeding Anderson false information, delaying him. Extreme secrecy was used, given the recent charges leveled against the man. The captain did not want to rouse suspicion of their activity, which was why Coventry's last report mentioned his men had lost Anderson's trail." The baron's jaw clenched, then relaxed. "Apparently Coventry has reason to believe there is a break in communication somewhere along the line."

Garahan bit out, "Anderson is paying someone!"

O'Malley asked, "Is he still headed this way?"

"Aye," Summerfield replied. "Coventry believes between Tremayne and Masterson spoon-feeding Anderson conflicting and distracting information, he could hold off the inevitable for a sennight, possibly a fortnight."

Flaherty frowned. "Not if the man travels by horse."

The baron shook his head. "Not a concern. Rumor has it Anderson insists on traveling everywhere via coach, due to an aversion to horses."

O'Malley smiled. "Well now, he'll be keeping to North Road for most of the journey. The roads leading from North Road to Summerfield-on-Eden are less traveled and narrower. Could add a day or so to his journey."

"Don't forget stopping every twenty miles to change horses," Flaherty said.

Garahan snorted. "He'll probably stop for tea."

Flaherty snickered. "And a meal at every stop."

Summerfield nodded. "Anderson never developed an affinity for horses, other than whipping them when they fall off the pace pulling his carriage."

"Just one more thing to dislike about the man," Flaherty mumbled.

"I don't dislike the man." Garahan's voice sounded strained. He narrowed his eyes until they were unholy, near-black slits burning with anger. "I hate the man!"

"Hate is a strong word, Ryan," Flaherty replied.

"I've every reason to hate the man for what he did to me wife, Melanie, and Olivia…and what he intended to do! The bloody bugger stabbed me in the back. I nearly bled out!"

"But ye didn't, thanks to O'Ghill's quick action," O'Malley reminded his cousin. "I'm not trying to diminish what he did, but we need to remain neutral while defending the duke and his family."

Garahan's eyes burned with anger. "Are ye saying ye'd be able to remain neutral if Miss Gillingham were the one yanked into that carriage, abducted right from under the noses of the innkeeper in the village? If that doesn't bother ye, imagine she's miles away, and ye don't know where she is."

O'Malley got the picture with surprising clarity. He understood without having the lass's name dragged into it. "I'm imagining it, and I'd be angry, too, but—"

Garahan's voice lowered to a rasp. "Then ye finally find her trail and are only a few hours behind the kidnappers. Ye pull into the innyard and recognize the carriage reportedly seen right before she went missing… And then ye hear her scream, and ye don't know if it's because the bloody bastard who took her is laying his hands on her or if he's—"

O'Malley's blood ran cold. "Enough! Ye made yer point." He turned to face the baron. "Forgive me cousin for interrupting what ye were trying to tell us, yer lordship. I'll make sure he soaks his head in the horse trough." He glared at Garahan, then continued, "With a sennight or more before Anderson arrives, and the assurance that Tremayne and Masterson are following at a distance, we'll have the time to practice our patrols with the men we've added to our number."

Garahan snorted. "We could use a half-dozen more men, preferably ones able to handle a pistol or a rifle. But will it change the fact that the bastard has set his sights on me wife and the others again?"

"Aye, because this time, he will not escape answering for his crimes quite so quickly…or easily," the baron said. He waited a beat before saying, "We shall increase our patrols and add another six men. O'Malley, I'd like you to ride to the village. Speak to Coleman and his daughter first and have them meet you at the vicarage. You and O'Ghill need to convince the women to accept my offer."

When O'Malley remained silent, Summerfield added, "I'm leaving the details up to you. Word the request however you need to. I will not feel at ease until you have convinced the ladies to seek shelter here at Summerfield Chase. It is not safe for them to remain in the village."

"Aye," Garahan agreed. "Too many places ripe for ambush."

"A sharpshooters' paradise," Flaherty added.

"Once Anderson discovers they are not in the village," the baron continued, "he will focus his attentions here." His face lost all expression. "And we will be waiting for him."

"I'll do me best," O'Malley said. "but I warn ye, the lass—er, Miss Gillingham is quite stubborn."

The baron rubbed his eyes. "What about Miss Chessy?"

O'Malley shook his head. "Just as stubborn, I'm afraid."

"And Miss Coleman?"

"I think she and the vicar's wife have softer attitudes toward being told what to do," O'Malley admitted.

"Meaning they'll be reasonable?" Flaherty asked.

Garahan grunted.

"Do you believe they will be?" the baron asked O'Malley.

"Aye."

Summerfield inclined his head. "Excellent. See to it. Now then, Garahan, mayhap you could ask your wife if she could encourage the women to come. I'd ask Phoebe, but she is still on bed rest and I do not want her getting too involved."

When Garahan did not answer right away, which was not normal for him, O'Malley sensed his cousin was worried about his wife leaving the grounds of the estate. "Prudence could pen a note to Mrs. Chessy inviting the women here for tea," he suggested.

Flaherty nodded. "Once they are here, we'll keep them!"

Garahan grinned, and the baron sputtered, "You cannot simply keep them. That's what Anderson did!"

"Aye, but he had nefarious intentions," O'Malley said. "We'd just be offering them to tea and to stay for an extended visit." He considered the ramifications and added, "It would probably be best not to mention the length of the visit in Prudence's note to the vicar's wife."

"We'll spring it on them once yer wife and her ladyship ply them with tea and scones or some of Mrs. Green's fancy iced teacakes," Flaherty added.

"Ye should ensure Percy and Phineas are included in their visit," Garahan said. "Those two could charm the birds out of the trees."

The baron smiled. "Men, it appears as if we have a plan."