She sat with an unconscious Dunmore in her arms in the radiant sunlight, praying she could fulfill her promise.
* * *
Seamus, Cormac, Kevin, Niall, and Lucien raced into the livery, stopping only when they saw Maggie on the ground, a man in her arms. “Mags?” Kevin asked, as he approached her. “Cormac says he found Dunmore, but …” He gazed at the man in Maggie’s arms in disbelief. “That can’t be Dunmore.”
“’Tis Dunmore,” she said, her gaze full of hope. “But he’s ailing. I don’t know why or from what. We must help him.” She looked at her father and brothers, as though doubting they would aid her.
Seamus approached her. “You have to let him go, lass, so we can carry him home. Run ahead and tell your mum and prepare a room for him.” He waited, as she stared at him. “You can let him go, Maggie darlin’. We’ll take care of him and bring him to you.”
Maggie eased out from under Dunmore, her hands stroking his head again, as he moaned and clung to her. “No, my love,” she whispered in his ear. “Let Da and my brothers help. I’ll be with you again soon.” She rose, stilling at his plaintive “Maggie.”
She fell to her knees, cupping his face, as she focused on his bleary gaze. “Trust us,” she whispered. “I’ll see you in a few minutes at the house.” She kissed his forehead and then rose, running in the direction of home. Barreling up the front steps, she called out for her mother. “Mum!”
Mary approached from the kitchen. “Maggie? What’s happened?”
“Dunmore. He’s alive. Cormac brought him back to me,” Maggie gasped. “But he’s sick. Hurt. Injured.” She waved her arms around. “I don’t know!”
Mary gripped her shoulders. “Shh, love. He’s alive. We’ll care for him. We’ll do what we must to ensure he improves.” She motioned for Maggie to follow her. “Let’s prepare the room. ’Tis overrun with children’s toys, an’ we must have space to work.”
They entered the spare room on the main floor that had been used as a bedroom and a sickroom in the past but had most recently been turned into a playroom for the O’Rourke grandchildren. Declan’s nanny, Samantha, had lived here when she and Gavin had first arrived, but she now lived in a spare room over their new bookstore and school, continuing to help with Gavin.
Maggie and Mary tossed toys in baskets, pushing everything for the children to one side of the room. They made the bed, stepping back from it, just as Seamus and Kevin entered with Dunmore.
“’Tis ready,” Mary said, as her astute gaze roved over Dunmore. “Maggie, put a kettle on to boil water, go for Nora, and see if Aileen can come with you too.”
Maggie looked at her mother, as though she were betraying her. “No, Mum, I can’t leave him.”
Mary cupped her daughter’s head. “You can and you must. You’re still my baby daughter, and you’re unwed. You’ll not be undressin’ him.” She waited, as Maggie flushed. “Go.” Looking at Lucien, she said, “Go with her.”
Maggie left the room, put a kettle and a pot on the stove, and left for the Bordello, Lucien by her side. Although she knew her mum was only trying to protect her reputation, it stung that Maggie would be separated from Dunmore for even a few minutes. She wanted to be beside him. Always.
“Don’t worry, Maggie,” Lucien said in a soft voice. Compared to her father’s sons, Lucien was more soft-spoken, although he was just as opinionated. “He’s back. He wouldn’t have struggled so hard to return to you to die.”
Maggie let out a huff of air at his statement. “We don’t always have a choice.”
“He’s as stubborn as you are,” Lucien said, with a wry smile filled with humor. He looked very much like their mother, with her thick auburn hair and hazel eyes, although he was much taller and with broader shoulders. Thankfully he had Mary’s calm demeanor, rather than his father Francois’s erratic, more violent nature.
“Come,” Maggie said, trotting in the direction of the Bordello. “The sooner we convince Nora to aid us, the sooner I’m with Dunmore again.”
* * *
Maggie stood outside the bedroom door, nibbling on her fingernail, as she waited for permission to enter. Never before had she wished she had the temerity to disobey her mum. Even though Maggie knew her mother was attempting to protect her tattered reputation, Maggie wished she could be present.
When Seamus emerged, she gripped his arm. “Da?” Her gaze filled with pleading. “Let me go in.”
“Not yet, love,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “They have to clean him up a bit more.” He jerked around at a horrible yowl of pain, as Maggie raced around him to gain entrance to the room.
Maggie burst inside, her astute gaze taking in Dunmore covered in a sheet, his arms and chest exposed. Bruises in a kaleidoscope of colors covered his body, and she frowned. “Why?” she whispered. “He shouldn’t have bruises like this if the accident were a month ago.” Approaching him, she clasped his hand and swiped her fingers over his brow, bending forward to whisper into his ear. He calmed with her soothing words.
“Keep talking to him,” Nora said, breathless and sweaty, as she worked on the other side of the bed. She pulled back her side of the sheet, exposing two twigs tied together, with fragments of cloth around his lower leg. “I have to see if this needs to be reset.”
“Reset?” Maggie whispered. She looked at Nora, with a horror-filled gaze. “Oh, no.” Grabbing Dunmore’s hands, she raised them to her lips, kissing his fingers, as she spoke to him. When he jerked and arched with pain at Nora’s prodding and poking, Maggie held on tight. “You’re with me, my love,” she whispered. “You’re
