Chapter Twenty-Three
A fortnight later, Flaherty braced for his first meeting with Pippa’s da. Summerfield had extended an invitation to Baron Stanhope and Earl Haybrook to visit with their daughters, both of whom were on extended visits until Dr. Higgins proclaimed either woman fit to travel.
Flaherty would rather have waited another month or so for the impending visit. Though, truthfully, if he had been in his father-in-law’s place, he wouldn’t have waited for an invitation to see his daughter and the man who’d dared to marry her without his permission.
The need to pace, while going over what he would say to Pippa’s da when he arrived, would have to wait.
Flaherty had the rooftop shift, and had to be vigilant scanning the perimeter, ready to protect and defend.
“He’d be within his rights to blame me for not protecting his daughter when she’d been stabbed—and held at knifepoint before getting tossed into a hundred-year-old oak tree! ”
Scanning the perimeter to the south, he frowned, recalling the baron’s ready agreement and reasoning as to why waiting a few weeks more would be wise: it would give Pippa’s bruises time to heal.
Would it ever not gut him, replaying that moment in his mind when Trentchester thought to save himself by flinging Pippa away from him and into that oak tree?
He shoved those thoughts deep to pull out another time.
Following the movement at the base of the tree line, he was relieved to note it was a doe moving into the open—not a sharpshooter.
Watching the movement to the west, he sighed, remembering how vehemently the baroness had insisted that she and the baron extend an immediate invitation not only to Pippa’s father, but Millie’s as well.
Flaherty could still hear the emotion in Lady Phoebe’s voice, and see tears well in her eyes, when she reminded him that if her father was still alive, she would want him to meet Marcus so they could share the good news that he was going to be a grandfather.
In the next breath, Lady Phoebe had reminded Flaherty that he should be grateful that at least one of their unborn babe’s grandparents was in England. His parents were still living on the farm in Ireland that had been in their family for generations, while Pippa’s ma had died years ago.
He heard the rumble of carriage wheels in the distance, and gave a short, sharp whistle.
He waited for his cousins to answer his alert.
A few moments later, Garahan ran toward the building his cousin was guarding on the perimeter from the ground.
“Well now, shall I relieve ye, so ye can climb down and meet yer father-in-law?”
“Where the bloody hell is O’Malley?”
In answer, they heard the rear door of the manor house open.
“How many carriages?” O’Malley asked as he rushed over to stand next to Garahan at the foot of the ladder to the roof.
Flaherty sighed. “Two, and damned if they aren’t huge. Bloody hell—he’s arriving in a coach fit for royalty.”
“State coaches,” O’Malley reminded his cousin.
Flaherty shrugged. “Thought they were town coaches, though why do they need them when they aren’t calling on royalty?”
“Ye’re just nervous,” Garahan said. “I would be too, if me wife was as battered looking as yers, I hadn’t asked the man’s permission to marry his daughter, and was meeting him for the first time.”
“Aren’t ye a fecking ray of sunshine, Garahan.”
Flaherty’s cousin grinned. “Ah, ’tis what me darling wife calls me.”
Flaherty grunted. “She’s blind to yer faults, Ryan.” He watched the two sleek coaches with coats of arms emblazoned on the doors slowly make their way up the long drive. “Twelve horses in all. Are the first six Cleveland bays or chestnuts?”
“With their dark manes and tails, Cleveland bays,” O’Malley replied.
“The second coach has six beauties, black as night.” He motioned to one of the stable lads.
“Tell the stable master ’tis twelve horses that will need to be cooled down, then watered and fed.
” The young man sprinted back to the stables, returning with half a dozen men to handle the horses.
Summerfield greeted the men. “Ah, I see our guests will arrive momentarily, and the stable master has been alerted. Excellent. The stables will be full for the next few days.”
By the time the coaches rolled to a stop in front of the manor house, O’Malley, Garahan, and Flaherty stood off to one side of Baron Summerfield, while the servants lined up on the other, ready to greet the newcomers, welcoming them to Summerfield Chase.
For the life of him, Flaherty had no idea why the servants had to be trotted out and then back inside to be ready to fetch and serve.
He preferred the cottage where he and Pippa lived.
It was warm and cozy, and the little touches his wife added brightened their home.
He wished he could be inside when she greeted her father, but instead he was outside neglecting his normal post in order to be on hand to take the measure of the servants that accompanied their esteemed visitors.
“Stanhope,” Summerfield said, beaming. “Welcome to our home. My wife is waiting inside to greet you—she tires easily.”
“Thank you, Summerfield,” Stanhope replied.
“I remember those days well. I hope Lady Phoebe is following your physician’s advice.
I have enjoyed her correspondence, and updates on my daughter’s health.
” The silver-haired baron scanned the line of servants, inclined his head, and unerringly pinned Flaherty with his gaze.
“Ah, the man who married my daughter.” Stanhope did not have to add without asking permission—his expression indicated his displeasure.
Bloody hell!
“And saved your daughter’s reputation and her life,” Summerfield reminded Pippa’s father.
Before Stanhope could say another word, Flaherty watched the man’s irritated expression relax into one of concern, and knew without turning around that his wife, the light and love of his life, had come outside to greet her father.
He wished she had stayed inside until he and his cousins had been able to perform a cursory evaluation of the servants: two coachmen, four footmen, and two valets in all.
“Father, it’s wonderful to see you.”
There was a telltale hesitation in the lass’s voice. Was she still worried that her father would censure her for marrying without his consent?
Before Flaherty left his position standing beside his cousins, she walked over to stand next to him, linking her arm with his. “I’d like you to meet my husband, the love of my life, and father of your first grandchild—Dillon James Flaherty.”
His feisty wife was a delight. He watched the baron’s face, waiting to see his reaction, and nearly snorted with laughter when her da asked, “Did you say grandchild?”
“I did, Father.”
Summerfield spoke up. “Speculation was rife and spread quickly through Summerfield-on-Eden as to why your lovely daughter arrived with an exhausted mother and her newborn babe—without an escort. ’Twas their arrival, lack of escort, and broken carriage wheel that started the rumors,” the baron told him. “Not what you’re thinking.”
Pippa’s father shifted his gaze to Flaherty once more before he turned back to the baron.
The man’s demeanor softened, though Flaherty detected a flinch the man was not quick enough to hide when his eyes took in his daughter’s fading bruises and the sling protecting her broken arm.
“You’re looking surprisingly well, Phillipa—all things considered. ”
“I feel wonderful, Father.”
“Aren’t ye supposed to be inside, resting with Millie and the others, lass?” Flaherty interjected.
Her father’s eyes narrowed, but before he could comment, a jovial voice called out, “Pippa, you look wonderful, despite your broken arm.”
She laughed. “So do you, Uncle Haybrook.”
Flaherty leaned close and whispered, “I didn’t realize he was yer uncle.”
Pippa smiled up at him. “He isn’t—it’s an endearment. Our families have always been close.”
Earl Haybrook quickly took Flaherty’s measure and nodded. “Introduce me to your husband.”
“I’d be delighted to. Uncle, meet Dillon James Flaherty, of the Dublin Flahertys, members of the Duke of Wyndmere’s private guard stationed here at Summerfield Chase.”
Millie’s father extended his hand to Flaherty. “Thank you for protecting my daughter and grandson, and dear Pippa, Millie’s sister of the heart.”
Flaherty smiled. Millie and Pippa were indeed sisters: bosom friends one moment…
arguing the next. “It has been me pleasure. The duty has been shared between me cousins, Thomas O’Malley and Ryan Garahan.
As members of the Duke of Wyndmere’s private guard, we have the honor of being assigned to Summerfield Chase, protecting the duke’s sister, Lady Phoebe, and her husband Baron Summerfield. ”
Haybrook nodded. “That’s quite a lot of people under your protection.”
Summerfield smiled. “O’Malley’s wife and Garahan’s wife and twin cousins are also under their protection.
” With a nod to Flaherty, he suggested, “After you speak with Stanhope’s and Haybrook’s servants, join us in the sitting room.
I’m certain our guests would like to speak to you in a more comfortable setting. ”
I just bet they would. “Aye, yer lordship.”
Lord Haybrook nodded to Flaherty, O’Malley, and Garahan before asking, “Is Roarke here?”
Pippa smiled. “Both your son-in-law and grandson were in the sitting room with Millie a few moments ago, awaiting your arrival.”
Haybrook smiled and glanced over his shoulder, “Are you coming, Stanhope?”
Pippa’s father hesitated, then offered his arm to his daughter. “Mind your step, Phillipa.”
There wasn’t any time for Flaherty to do more than smile and nod at his wife, before he turned back to his cousins. “Who do ye want me to interview first?”