Chapter Twenty-Three

G arahan met Flaherty's intense gaze, nodded to O'Ghill, and told the baron, "We need O'Malley's take on this."

"I understand your loyalty to him—"

"Begging yer pardon, yer lordship," Garahan interrupted. "Of all people, ye should know how important his opinion on this matter is. He's saved yer life, and that of her ladyship, more than once."

Summerfield walked to the window overlooking the back terrace and stared out at the view beyond. The fainting couch had been carried back inside. Phoebe would not be enjoying the sun on their terrace again until the business with Anderson was over. "I do value his opinion, as I do every one of yours."

"Then why are ye hesitating to bring him in on this?"

The baron spun around, and the stark expression on his face had the men falling silent. "He nearly bled to death. Before you ask how I know, I asked. Dr. Higgins said the chance that the wound healing in his shoulder could become infected again is great. He's recovering, but his body is not fully healed. He married Caroline two days ago—how can you expect me to take a chance with his life?"

The three men frowned. Flaherty spoke up first. "The sixteen of us pledged our lives to His Grace and Lady Persephone. When their twins were born, we vowed to protect them, too."

"When the earl married, we added Lady Aurelia to those we protect," Garahan added. "When yer cousin the viscount married Lady Aurelia's dearest friend Lady Calliope, they were added to our growing list of family and extended family."

"Then there's yerself and Lady Phoebe," O'Ghill said. "I may not have been there with the others when O'Malley was assigned to protect ye, but I was here a few months ago, and stepped in when ye needed me. Thomas may be a royal pain in the arse , like the rest of the sainted O'Malleys, but he has a good brain. Ye're foolish to keep him out of this."

The silence that followed O'Ghill's pronouncement hung over the room. Finally, the baron nodded. "What in the bloody hell was I thinking when I asked you men to speak freely?"

Garahan snorted with laughter first. Flaherty and O'Ghill soon joined in. "'Tis one of the reasons we enjoy working for ye, yer lordship," Garahan said. "Ye accept us for who are."

"And Jared doesn't?"

"His Grace does," Garahan replied, "in his own way."

"Ye're more apt to see things from our point of view," Flaherty added.

"Skewed," O'Ghill said with a grin. "Are ye going to send for O'Malley?"

Summerfield shook his head. "I'm expecting King's men to arrive in an hour." He raised his hand when the men started grumbling. Obligingly, they fell silent. "I'll summon him then. King's men have new information for me, and I want O'Malley and the rest of you to be here for the meeting."

Garahan nodded. "We'll be back in an hour with O'Malley."

As promised, an hour later, the group had gathered around the map of the baron's estate and the surrounding area—the village included—laid out on the baron's desk. Two of Gavin King's most trusted runners stood by, with Thompson pointing to five points on the map. He used the tip of his finger to connect the points using the roads and paths between the points… in the shape of a star. Thompson looked up. "The center is Summerfield Chase, your lordship."

"Anderson is predictable," Greeves said. "He's following the most common route to Summerfield-on-Eden. He hasn't bothered to hide his movements."

Thompson shook his head. "The man still has not guessed who Tremayne is and has followed his advice to the letter, donning what Anderson considers a disguise."

"Which would be?" Summerfield asked.

Thompson shook his head. "He's dressed like a well-to-do squire. Driving his carriage with a pair of matched grays."

"Not much of a disguise," O'Malley muttered.

"Tremayne must be having a good laugh at how gullible Anderson is," Flaherty said.

"Masterson met with us yesterday and told us something of interest," Thompson said.

"Oh?" the baron asked.

"Anderson cannot stomach the sight of Tremayne," Greeves told them.

Garahan curled his hands into fists. "What the feck is wrong with the man? Tremayne nearly died from the saber slash to his face!"

Thompson sighed. "Fortunately, Anderson never volunteered to join any of His Majesty's armed forces. Have you heard that Captain Coventry has been trying to recruit another former dragoon?"

"Aye," Garahan replied. "Alasdair Cameron."

Greeves added, "He's recently married—prior to that he was protecting the mysterious Angel of the Streets in London."

"Me brothers James and Darby have met and aided the angel," Garahan told the men. "Darby's wife was rescued by her. He would give his life for her. As would a growing number of men working for the captain and the duke."

"Aye," O'Malley agreed. "Me cousin Emmett and Tremayne are two others."

"Emmett O'Malley?" Summerfield asked.

O'Malley grinned. "From what I've gathered, me cousin is more than intrigued." He turned to Garahan. "Isn't that what ye gathered from Darby's most recent letter?"

His cousin snorted. "Aye, smitten."

"We're getting off topic, men," the baron reminded them. "Now, as to our continued plan of action, we wait for Anderson to make the first move." He nodded at the chorus of "ayes." "O'Ghill, you're to guard the vicar's daughter, while Stanbridge will continue to guard the blacksmith's daughter."

"Aye, yer lordship," O'Ghill replied. "I'll be leaving in a few minutes to return to me post and will pass along the word to Stanbridge."

O'Malley nudged him. "Please send me best, and the lass's, to the vicar and his family. We'll be visiting them as soon as this is settled…or the vicar brings the lasses here to be protected."

"Done," his cousin agreed.

"Now then, as for the rest of you," Summerfield said, "you will coordinate your shifts with Thompson and Greeves. O'Malley, you will be on the interior shift while you continue to heal…starting tomorrow."

"Why not right now?" O'Malley asked.

The baron smiled. "I thought you might want to spend time with your new bride when you weren't out of your mind with fever. When this is finished, and I have a feeling it will be soon, take a few days to become accustomed to being married."

O'Malley grinned. "Sure, and that's a fine idea, yer lordship. Thank ye."

"You're welcome. Now, any questions, men?"

"Where will Tremayne and Masterson be stationed?" Flaherty asked.

"Guarding the perimeter of the vicarage and the blacksmith, in the event O'Ghill and Stanbridge need them," the baron answered. "Anything else?" When everyone remained silent, Summerfield looked from one man to the next. "All of you have my eternal thanks for accepting this assignment. My wife…" His voice trailed off, and O'Malley stepped over to stand beside the baron.

"I think what his lordship is trying to say is that Lady Phoebe is still recovering from the assault, adjusting to her delicate condition." He slowly smiled at Summerfield before telling the men, "Be grateful she's not in full fighting form. She has a wicked right cross, and is a fierce opponent when armed with a brass paperweight and handful of ribbon-wrapped hatpins."

The men were watching the baron closely. When Summerfield grinned, O'Ghill said, "O'Malley, ye're treading a fine line between insubordination and insanity."

"Ye'd be right about that, but his lordship knows I'll protect Lady Phoebe, Prudence, the twins, and me wife to me last breath. If not for me bespectacled guardian angel, I would not be standing in front of ye right now. Life is precious, ofttimes too fecking short for some of us."

"Wise words," Summerfield said. "By the by, men, O'Malley did not exaggerate. My wife has a lethal right cross."

"Don't be forgetting those hatpins," Flaherty said.

"And brass paperweight," Garahan added.

O'Ghill, Thompson, and Greeves were the first to leave. Flaherty and Garahan followed closely behind. O'Malley was about to take his leave when the baron stopped him. "I almost did not include you in the meeting."

O'Malley frowned. "Have I let ye down in some way, yer lordship?"

Summerfield shook his head. "That was not the problem." He waited a beat before saying, "With the blood loss and infection, I did not think you would pull through and could not accept that you would have died protecting my family."

O'Malley studied the baron. "I knew what the risks were when I signed on to protect His Grace and his family…which has grown by leaps and bounds. Me brother Sean nearly gave his arm. Darby Garahan will not likely recover the sight in his one eye. The rest of us have been stitched and hobbled back together half a dozen times. A bit stiffer when we rise in the morning, but stout of heart and willing to give our lives for you and your family. Can ye not understand that?"

Summerfield shook his head. "But you'd never even met half of us when Coventry and His Grace formed the guard."

O'Malley grinned at the baron. "Ye became ours to protect when ye fell arse over head in love with Lady Phoebe."

The baron threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Bloody hell, O'Malley. You've been more than one of the guard. You've been a friend, giving me advice before I married Phoebe, whether or not I wanted to hear it. So, I'll give you some now. Never fall asleep with hard words between you and your wife. Say you're sorry, whether or not you feel you owe her an apology—in her eyes, you do."

"Wise words, yer lordship. Anything else?"

"Two things—first, tell her you love her every day."

"And?" O'Malley asked.

"A happy marriage takes effort on both sides. Sometimes more on your side…other times on your wife's. Do not let others get involved in your squabbles."

O'Malley shook his head. "That's three things, yer lordship."

"So it is. Give Caroline my best."