What the Wind Knows - Amy Harmon Page 0,68

I’ll keep them out as long as I can. Maeve, come with me,” I directed, and streaked back across the grass, the girl at my heels. I raced through the house, pulling off my bloodied robe and the nightgown beneath it, stuffing them under my bed and putting on the dress I’d worn the day before, pausing to spritz myself with perfume and run a hand over my loose braid.

“Miss, you’ve blood on your face and your hands!” Maeve cried as I met her in the hall, and I tumbled toward the kitchen sink, scrubbing at my hands and face as a sharp rap echoed through the house. Soldiers at the door.

“Go to Brigid and Eoin. Tell them to stay upstairs. Stay with them, Maeve. I’ll be all right.”

She nodded and was gone again, flying soundlessly up the huge staircase as I walked to the door, a character in my own story, my head flying with plotlines and possible scenarios before I opened the door with a fluttering hand and greeted the stony-faced men standing in the rain like I was Scarlett O’Hara entertaining a dozen callers.

“Oh my!” I said, abandoning the Irish accent I’d worn like armor since waking up at Garvagh Glebe. “You all scared me! It’s miserable out there. I was just outside myself. In the barn. We have a foal coming. Our girl is suffering. I had to sit with her for a while. Do any of you know any husbandry?” I laughed, like I’d told a joke. “I mean animal husbandry, of course,” I prattled, allowing the rain to soak the front of my dress and wet the curls around my face before moving back and swinging my arm wide, inviting them in.

“What can I do for you? The doctor is gone, I’m afraid. I hope none of you are in need of medical attention.”

“We’re going to need to search the house, ma’am. And the grounds,” the man in charge said, though he made no move to enter. He wore a glengarry cap and tall boots, and I remembered what Thomas had said about the Auxiliaries. They didn’t answer to anyone.

“All right,” I said, frowning. “But whatever for?”

“We have reason to believe there are gun smugglers in the woods around this house.”

“Oh my,” I said again, and the fear in my voice was very real. “Well, you may certainly search the house, Captain. Can I call you Captain?” I stepped aside, out of his way. “It’s awfully wet for being outside. And I was just in the barn. I didn’t see anyone. And if you all go tromping through the barn, our poor mare is likely to lose her foal. Could I just escort a few of you to peep inside so we don’t upset her?”

“Who else is in the house, ma’am?” the Auxie asked, dismissing my request.

“For goodness’ sake, Captain!” I insisted, stamping my foot. “I’m getting absolutely soaked to the skin.” The man’s eyes dropped to my chest and rose again. “All of you, please come inside if you’re going to come inside.”

The captain—he hadn’t argued with the rank I’d assigned him—barked orders for six of the men to circle the house and wait for further instructions and the rest to come inside with him. There were ten men in total, and four of them eagerly stepped into the foyer and let me close the door behind them.

“Can I take your coats and hats, gentlemen?” I asked, knowing they wouldn’t comply.

“How many in the house, ma’am?” the captain asked again, his eyes roving up the stairs. A lamp from the upper corridor and the light I’d left on in the kitchen were the only lights on in the house. I flicked on the chandelier overhead, flooding the men in light.

“My son—he’s six and he’s sleeping, so please search quietly—my mother-in-law, and a servant girl. The doctor is in Dublin. Our overseer is in the barn with the mare. His son is probably with him too, though he might have given up and gone to bed.”

“They were there when you left?”

“Yes, Captain. But I left them with a bottle of whiskey, so they weren’t too unhappy about waiting up with the mare.” I smiled conspiratorially.

“You’re an American, ma’am?” one of the other men asked, and I realized I recognized him from Sligo. He was one of the men who broke the windows of Lyons department store.

“Yes, I am. I haven’t mastered the brogue, I’m afraid.”

“No loss there,” the man said, and his captain pointed

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