Chapter Eight

C aroline watched her cousin staring in the direction O'Ghill had ridden. It was obvious Melanie had feelings for him. Watching the way her cousin's shoulders slumped, and her eyes filled, Caroline sensed it was more than a passing fancy. She reached for another sheet to hang on the clothesline, securing her end with the clothes peg. "Grab the other end, will you, Melanie?" When her cousin did not answer right away, Caroline smoothed the sheet along the line and pegged the middle and then the end where her cousin stood still staring at the empty road.

It had not escaped Caroline's notice how her cousin reacted a short while ago, when O'Ghill had arrived. They had been in the kitchen at the time when he and her uncle entered her uncle's study. Melanie had hovered near the closed door, listening to the slightly raised voices on the other side.

She had not been able to attend to their task long enough to be helpful since O'Ghill left. Caroline did not feel right complaining, even if it would be easier to hang the freshly laundered sheets on the line with two people. When she had to ask Melanie to grab the other end of the sheet a second time, finally she complied, prompting Caroline to ask, "How long have you been in love with O'Ghill?"

Melanie sighed, then surprised Caroline by answering the question. "Since the first time I saw him. When he rode toward the blacksmith's shop, so tall in the saddle—shoulders so broad, one would think he could handle anything." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Olivia and I had just delivered her father's noon meal when we saw him ride up and dismount. We were both momentarily speechless, captivated. For a brief time, I thought I would have to knock Olivia on her backside to keep her from trying to snag the dark-haired, dark-eyed god's attention when I wanted it all to myself. Thankfully, a week or so later, Olivia finally saw Flaherty."

"Who is he?" Caroline asked. The name sounded familiar.

"Really, cousin, I told you last night who he was. He's stationed at Summerfield Chase."

"I'm sorry, Melanie. I do recall now. Flaherty is one of the duke's guard."

"Yes, along with O'Malley and Garahan. They are all so handsome, tall, and broad, with a certain air about them, a mix of confidence and intrigue—and so handsome."

Caroline laughed. "You said handsome twice."

"Did I? Well, they are twice as handsome as any other man I have ever seen."

Melanie was not wrong, Caroline thought. She remembered having a similar feeling when she ran into O'Ghill. The way he handled her situation had called for arrogance, and he had more than his share of it. While O'Malley did have a bit of that trait as well, she did not find it to be overwhelming…especially when he was holding her in his arms. "If Flaherty is anything like O'Ghill and O'Malley, he is arrogant, too."

Melanie narrowed her eyes. "You say that like it's a bad thing, Caro."

"In my experience, arrogance is not always an attractive quality in a man." Caroline used to think it was an essential in the man she would one day marry. A few of her brother's friends who had managed to catch her attention, then spoiled it with their stiff-necked opinions, changed her mind about that. The exception was David. She had been drawn to his quiet manner, missed him, and mourned the chance they'd never had to court and fall in love. "Have you ever had a difference of opinion with O'Ghill?"

"Why would I want to do that, when he is never wrong? Besides, he is so handsome and brave and strong…and when he swept me into his arms, I thought I'd die."

Caroline shook her head. "I hardly think being picked up by O'Ghill would have such a dire effect on anyone, even you, Melanie."

Her cousin stiffened, and Caroline sensed Melanie was about to go into a long-winded explanation of how wonderful O'Ghill was, reminding Caroline of the last time she had visited before her father became ill. Though at the time, Melanie had stars in her eyes describing one of the tenant farmers' sons.

Hanging up another sheet, Caroline asked, "What ever happened to that tall, gangly, light-haired boy you were mooning after the last time I was here?"

Melanie dissolved into fit of giggles. "Lyman Stanbridge? I cannot believe you remember that. I thought he was so handsome, but he ignored my every attempt to speak with him. Lyman is still arrogant and has no reason to be."

"He was, what, two years older than you?"

"One," Melanie answered. "He's still gangly, and I daresay, I do not think he will ever grow into his feet."

"Really, cousin," Caroline admonished her. "He isn't a dog. He's a boy."

Melanie tugged her end of the sheet with enough force to loosen the clothes pegs Caroline had fastened. They refastened them together. "That is the whole problem. Lyman is still a boy at eighteen. O'Ghill…is a man."

"And too old for you, Melanie," Caroline warned.

"He cannot be that much older than me," her cousin protested. "Besides, I do believe I would do well marrying an older, experienced man."

Caroline bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giving her cousin any more advice. Melanie had never been one to accept it graciously. In truth, she would be more apt to ignore it. The four years between them may as well have been twice that for all the good it did when Caroline tried to give her cousin the benefit of her experience. To be honest, she had not had any experience with regard to relationships, other than promising to wait for her solemn soldier.

A dark thought filled her. There had been one other… Humbolt .

Though her brother's friends had been willing to attempt to charm her, they all seemed to be cut from the same cloth of arrogance. They purchased their colors, and spoke of the glory and medals they would receive when they returned after fighting in the Peninsular War. David Bantry hadn't thought of glory or medals, only of his duty to king and country. She remembered the day he had come to say goodbye. He had always been more reserved than the rest of her brother's friends. When he spoke, he meant every word.

As if it were yesterday, she recalled the way he held her hand to his heart and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. He had touched the rim of her spectacles and traced the curve of her cheek and said, "I have committed every freckle on your face, your soft gray eyes, and your flame-bright hair to my memory. So I can pull them out and visit with you while we are apart." He asked if she would wait for him. When she said yes, his lips brushed hers. Softly, tenderly.

There was no point in thinking of what might have been. Their future had been taken from them. Mr. Humbolt, a solemn man seventeen years Caroline's senior, had been the only other to show interest.

Shoving the memory of him from her mind, she asked Melanie, "Do you have any idea how old O'Ghill is?"

Melanie shrugged. "It wouldn't matter. I have decided that he is the man I'm going to marry. No matter how many times he leaves the village." Her expression was one of willful determination. "He'll come back for me."

"And you know this how?"

"Are you deliberately trying to discourage me, Caro?" Melanie rasped. "I thought you'd be happy for me."

"Forgive me. I am not trying to discourage you. I'm trying to save you from heartache. O'Ghill has to be at least as old as O'Malley and the other men in the duke's guard."

"Do you know how old they are?" Melanie asked pointedly.

"Er…no. But from my conversations with O'Malley, I would say nearly thirty summers."

"Just what I need, a man with experience."

This time Caroline bit her tongue to keep from saying that Uncle Bertram was not likely to accept an offer for Melanie's hand from someone nearly fourteen years her senior. Then again, he might. Hadn't Caroline's father spoken to her and indicated should Mr. Humbolt offer for her hand, he would accept? She may be wrong about Uncle Bertram.

"Are you determined to smother my dreams because yours did not come true?"

Devasted at the reminder that her dreams had been shattered, she struggled not to give in to the thoughts of what might have been had the man she loved and had promised to marry returned. David and Neil had given their lives, the ultimate sacrifice, shattering her world and her heart.

Caroline had not given a thought to marrying since that day—until O'Malley unlocked her door, and she took notice of a man for the first time in four years. Now was not the time to dwell on her attraction to his deep voice and green eyes, or his kindness when he'd noticed she was cold and slipped out of his frockcoat, wrapping it around her. His scent tantalized her. She sighed and realized she was as hopeless as Melanie.

She shoved those thoughts aside to assure her cousin, "I would never squash your dreams, Melanie. I love you and only want the best for you. I am sorry if you have taken my advice the wrong way. I want only your happiness. If O'Ghill is who you want, Melanie, then I hope he returns your feelings and speaks to Uncle Bertram to offer for your hand."

Mollified, her cousin gave a regal nod. "Thank you."

"Melanie! Caro!" Caroline smiled as her uncle walked toward them from the barn. "You are not overdoing it, I hope, Caro."

"Not at all. Having a reason to be up and about this morning, instead of contemplating my circumstances, has done wonders for me."

"Washing the sheets?" Melanie squeaked. "You must be joking."

Caroline shook her head. "I miss having someone to chat with while doing the household chores. Mum and I always did them together."

Her uncle cleared his throat. "O'Malley left something for you last night, but I thought it best to wait until now to give it to you."

"Oh?" A frisson of anticipation swept up from her toes. "I cannot imagine what it would be."

The vicar reached into his waistcoat pocket and said, "Hold out your hand, Caro."

She did as she was told and felt her heart clench when he placed her mother's locket and father's pocket watch in her upturned hand. Tears welled up and spilled over. "How? When?"

"I did not press O'Malley for particulars, as he needed to return to his duties at Summerfield Chase."

"Did he say anything?" she rasped.

Her uncle nodded. "He said, ‘The lass will be needing these.'"

She was overwhelmed with emotion: gratitude to O'Malley for retrieving the only tangible thing she had left of her parents, and longing to speak to him one more time, if only to thank the man. "Does he ever come into the village?"

"All of the duke's men take turns on patrol riding from the baron's estate to the village and back. They rotate, though I cannot say when he will be riding into town, especially after what O'Ghill just told me. We may not see any of the duke's guard for quite some time."

"What did O'Ghill have to say?" Melanie asked.

"Your mother will need to hear this, too. Why don't we go inside and see if she has our tea ready?"

"We have one more sheet to hang," Caroline told him. "We'll be right in."

When he walked into the house, Melanie turned to Caroline. "Whatever it is cannot be good if no one from Summerfield Chase will be coming to the village for a while. Trouble must be headed our way…again."

They hung the last of the bed linens and carried the basket and clothes pegs inside. Storing them in the alcove just inside the back door, Melanie and Caroline paused before walking into the kitchen. Melanie held her finger to her lips, and they both stood listening to the conversation her father and mother were having in the parlor.

"I refuse to leave the vicarage and hide out at Summerfield Chase. How could you even suggest such a thing, Bertram? Do you not know me at all?"

"Dearest, I'm thinking of you, Melanie, Caro, and Olivia. If you do not go, how will I be able to convince them to?"

"We should send them without me. I am your wife and will stand by your side, as I have always done. Your parishioners need your guidance, especially if that vile man is headed our way!"

"O'Ghill will be returning in half an hour to escort you, Melanie, Caro, and Olivia to the baron's home. You will not stay here!"

"I am not leaving, but I agree that the girls need the protection of the duke's guard. Anderson is a blight on society and should never have been set free!"

Her husband finally agreed, "Fine. We'll just send Melanie and Caro with Olivia. They will be safer there."

Melanie tugged on Caroline's arm and they walked into the kitchen. Her mother walked in from the parlor and smiled. "There you are. Thank you for hanging out the linens. With the soft breeze and warmer temperatures, they will be dry in an hour or two."

"We'll help you put them back on the beds when you are ready, Mum."

Her mother glanced over her shoulder and back. "You and Caroline will not have time to do that. You will be too busy packing."

"Packing?" Caroline asked, though she knew what her uncle intended. "But I just arrived."

"Circumstances have necessitated that we send Melanie, Olivia, and you to stay with the baron and baroness," her aunt said.

"Whyever would you suggest such a thing?" Melanie asked. "It is not as if we were close friends… We aren't even in the same social class!"

"That is not the point," the vicar said. "The three of you will be safer there."

Melanie moved closer to Caroline and linked arms with her. "We are not leaving you, Mum. Did you forget our conversation while we laundered the linens? You spoke of the care baskets we would help you deliver to those who are in need."

Her mother sighed. "Of course not, darling, but you need to learn to be flexible. I will handle that myself tomorrow."

"It will take more than half the morning to do so," her daughter protested. "What about your meeting with the new mothers at the inn? Olivia and I always help the mums by jiggling fussy babes and playing games with their little ones. Besides, Caroline was looking forward to joining us, weren't you, Caro?"

"To be honest, I was, Aunt Josephine," Caroline replied. "It has been so long since I have ventured out of our house to do more than visit the apothecaries." She could not keep the sadness from her voice, but fought and managed to hold back the tears pricking her eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, she slowly exhaled and counted. Counting helped steady her when she was upset.

"Bertram, I do hate to change my mind, but there is so much that we were to do in the next few days," Aunt Josephine said. "With the overabundance of rain recently, and the first crops of the season drowning, rotting in the field, so many in our congregation need our assistance. As long as Melanie and Caro stay together and do not wander off—"

The vicar interrupted, "Are you asking for a repeat of what happened a few weeks ago? Melanie and Olivia were with Mrs. Garahan, for Heaven's sake, about to take tea at the inn, when they were lured into that carriage. What is to say that Anderson will not do so again?"

"He fooled me once," Melanie said. "It will not happen a second time."

"I have learned to trust no one but family," Caroline added. "The exception would be to trust one of the duke's guard. I put my trust in O'Malley and O'Ghill and arrived safely here. I would trust them again in a heartbeat."

Before the vicar could respond, Aunt Josephine said, "Melanie, check the tea—it has to have steeped sufficiently by now."

"What can I do to help?" Caroline asked.

"Be a dear and stir the soup while I put the bread in the oven. We'll have the hearty soup and fresh bread for supper this evening."

When they'd done as Aunt Josephine asked, the vicar nodded to the three of them. "Have a seat."

Melanie and Caroline sat. "If you make me leave, Papa, I swear I will sneak out and walk back to the village!" Melanie said.

"You wouldn't!" her mother exclaimed.

"If there was one good thing that I learned from being abducted," Melanie said, "it is how to distract one's captors by screaming at the top of my lungs, before kicking them where it will do the most damage."

"Melanie!" her mother scolded, sounding appalled.

Melanie smiled. "Cornelius let us practice kicking him, but you taught us his last lesson, Caro…where to hit our target to bring a man to his knees."

"My brother wanted us to be safe," Caroline quickly explained. "As he would not be around to protect us when he joined his regiment."

Melanie laid a hand on Caroline's arm. "A lesson I put to good use."

"Really, Melanie," the vicar said, "this is hardly polite conversation over tea."

"But necessary," her mother said, "especially if they are going to be staying in the village."

*

O'Ghill stood outside the blacksmith's home, disbelief roaring through him as he stared at Miss Coleman. She refused the offer of protection! He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Do ye not remember what happened last time, lass? 'Twas yer kind heart and Melanie's that pulled the two of ye into that blasted carriage!"

"O'Ghill is right, Olivia," her father told her. "You need to accompany him back to Summerfield Chase. The guard will protect you and Melanie."

"What of Caroline? Shouldn't she be protected too, now that she is part of the Chessy family here in the village?"

"Aye. She will be coming as well," O'Ghill said.

To his shock, Olivia stamped her foot, turned to her father, and said, "I am not going."

What in the bloody hell was wrong with the lass? He remembered her tears, and Melanie's, when he and Garahan rescued them. He had wanted to wring the necks of the bloody bastards involved in their kidnapping and put bruises on them. O'Ghill nearly had, until Garahan reminded him of the pledge the men in the duke's guard had made. Even though O'Ghill was not a member of the guard, they were his kin, and he had accompanied Garahan on a rescue mission. Therefore, he had felt obliged to honor the pledge.

O'Ghill argued with Miss Coleman, but to no avail. The lass had brought on tears, pleading with her da to let her stay home with him in the village. The blacksmith agreed, and for the life of him, O'Ghill could not understand why the man had.

Resolved to convince the vicar's wife, daughter, and niece to accept the baron's offer, he made his way to the vicarage. He knocked on the door, and as soon as he was bidden to enter, he could tell from the expressions on the lasses' faces that they too had refused. What in the bloody hell was wrong with these women? Melanie was the one who'd swooned when Garahan mentioned his injury, and she had not even seen the blood! They were not as strong as his cousin's new bride, Prudence, though they seemed to think so.

He turned to the vicar's wife. "Are ye certain, Mrs. Chessy?"

She nodded. "We have so much to do, taking care of those who are in need right now. The first crop planted was destroyed by the recent heavy rainfall, and without our assistance temporarily filling their larders with food, they will go hungry. Bertram cannot possibly manage his flock without our help."

Melanie lifted her chin and glared at him— glared ! He thought the lass was taken with him, and would readily agree with whatever he told her to do. Apparently, he'd misjudged the lass. "I see Olivia has not agreed either," he said.

O'Ghill grunted. "Coleman was ready to send her, but her tears stopped him." He stared at Melanie and then Caroline. "I do not suppose either of ye used that same feminine trick on the good vicar, did ye?"

Their fierce frowns and dry eyes answered his question.

A short while later, O'Ghill returned—alone—with verbal messages from the vicar and the blacksmith—he was to relay their thanks to the baron, but the women would not be accepting the baron's generous offer of protection at Summerfield Chase.

Bloody fecking hell!