Niall and Lucien nodded, striding for the door.
At the last moment, Kevin called out, “Niall?” When his brother spun to face him, Kevin studied him for a long moment. “I thought you were to walk Maggie to the bookstore today. What happened?”
Flushing, Niall’s gaze skirted to his brothers and then back to Kevin. He was about sixteen years older and close to a father figure for Niall. “I … I was distracted,” he stammered. “It’s all my fault.”
Declan rose, pushing his chair back, as he stalked toward his brother. His blue eyes shone with rage. “Distracted? From the one duty you should have felt privileged to carry out?” He fisted his hands, as his cheeks reddened.
“Dec, no,” Kevin said, as he placed a hand on Declan’s shoulder.
“If he’d done what he should have, then none of this would have happened,” Declan hissed.
“We don’t know that,” Kevin reasoned, although his gaze shone with grave disappointment, as he looked at his younger brother. “Go. Ensure Chaffee doesn’t slip away.” When his younger brothers were gone, Kevin squeezed Declan’s shoulder. “Dec? Your anger isn’t for Niall. He’s young and made a mistake.”
Declan let out a deep breath, his chest shuddering. “Aye. ’Tis for the bastards who hurt Lorena. For Jacques, for darin’ to steal away Maggie. Niall’s just a lad.”
“Aye, a good lad who made a mistake.” He smiled at his brother, although it was tinged with sadness. “Although I wish he’d chosen another day to be absentminded.”
Declan sat again, staring into his tea mug, and Kevin chattered away—in an attempt to distract him until Declan could see his wife again.
* * *
Seamus nodded his thanks, as he allowed Cormac to lead his horse to the livery, as Seamus trudged to the house he shared with Mary, his way lit by the half-moon shining over them. He paused, when he saw the outline of his house, and he battled a desire to race away. To not have to admit that he had failed to find Maggie. Only the hope that her brothers had rescued her gave him purpose, as he strode forward.
“Ardan!” he bellowed, as he entered the back door. He heard the chattering in the kitchen instantly quiet, and he marched into the crowded room. “Maggie?” he asked, as he looked at his sons, sitting at the table. At their shakes of their heads, he swore and spun around, as though he were to head back out to search for her again.
“Nay, Da,” Ardan said from the doorway. “We found Lorena. She’s badly injured.”
Seamus turned to focus on his eldest, who stood stoically in the inner doorway leading to the rest of the house. “What happened to the lass?” Seamus stepped forward, stilling when he remembered he would be in the way in the sickroom.
“A blow to the head. She’s unconscious.” Ardan shrugged. “Madam Nora says there isn’t much more to be done but wait. And pray.”
“Jaysus,” Seamus breathed. “Any sign of your sister? Of wee Maggie?” His blue eyes gleamed with hope and terror in equal measure. When Ardan shook his head, Seamus swore again and spun away, slamming his hand against a wall again and again, before roaring like a wounded animal.
“Da?” Henri asked.
Seamus turned to face the youngest son, who Mary had had with Jacques’s brother, Francois.
“I’m sorry,” whispered the thirteen-year-old, who was still more a boy than a man, his red-gold hair mussed and his brown eyes filled with sorrow.
Taking a deep breath, Seamus crouched to be at eye level with the boy he considered his son. For any child of Mary’s was his. “What’s the matter, lad?”
“I should have been brave. I should have jumped into the wagon when I saw Jacques. Offered myself up and saved Maggie.” He shook at the thought, as he still occasionally suffered night terrors with his uncle as the bully.
“Never, lad,” Seamus said, as he squeezed Henri’s shoulders. “Don’t you know he would have just taken you too, and then we’d be worried about you as well as wee Maggie?” He shook his head, as he forced a smile. “I couldn’t lose another of my children.”
Henri’s jaw quivered, and he nodded, as he battled tears. When Seamus pulled him close, he cried on his shoulder. “Thanks, Da.”
“There’s a good lad,” Seamus murmured, patting him on his back, before releasing him. “We’ll find Maggie, and she’ll be well.” He looked up to see Niall fidgeting. “Niall? What has you lookin’ as though you have a pocketful of stolen jewels?”
Niall attempted to smile, but it faded as quickly as it appeared. “It’s all my fault, Da,” he blurted out.
Seamus rose, squeezing Henri’s shoulder once, before releasing the boy to scamper away and to be with the brothers his age. “How is it your fault?”
“Maggie asked me to escort her to the bookstore,” he whispered, shifting from foot to foot. “But I was distracted.” He flushed, as he met his father’s stare, the blue of his eyes enhanced by his da’s intense emotions. “I saw a woman I’d chatted with the day before, and … I wanted to continue my acquaintance.”
“You abandoned your duty to your sister to flirt with some floozy?” Seamus asked in a low voice. When Niall nodded, Seamus heaved out a breath. “I won’t say I’m not disappointed in you, lad, because I am.” He took a deep breath and swallowed what more he would have said, when he saw Niall flinch, and as a tear coursed down his cheek. “But I remember what it was to be young, lad. To see a pretty lass and to think I’d die if I didn’t speak with her.” He reached
