up the stairs. “Barrett, you and Ross search the rooms upstairs. Walters and I will search down here.”
“Do be mindful, please, Officers Barrett and Ross,” I pled sweetly. “My mother-in-law is quite crotchety. I wouldn’t want either of you to be struck with a poker.”
They blanched and hesitated before traipsing up the stairs. I wavered, not knowing which men I should shadow, hoping Brigid would keep her head and help Eoin keep his. I had no doubt Maeve would be fine.
“Could I get you something to warm you—some tea or brandy, Captain?” I asked lightly.
“No, ma’am,” the captain said, striding through the foyer. I stayed with him, making inane conversation, and he ignored me, searching my room, the bathroom, and the kitchen before the man named Walters called out to him.
“Captain? What do you make of this?”
My heart thundered as I accompanied the captain to the back of the house, where Walters was standing in Thomas’s clinic, staring at the open cupboards and drawers, which had clearly been rummaged through.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes, Captain?” I said innocently.
“The rest of the house is as neat as a pin. Who needed medical attention?”
“The mare, Captain!” I laughed. “I was looking for laudanum. The doctor hides it from me. He worries that I like it too much. But my father told me that if you put a little on a horse’s tongue, it’ll calm them right down. Have you ever tried putting laudanum on a horse’s tongue, Captain?”
He looked at me doubtfully.
“I can see you haven’t. It’s easier said than done.”
“Did you find any?” he queried.
“No. I didn’t. But I made a mess, didn’t I?”
“I think we need to go see that mare, ma’am.”
“Yes, sir. Let me grab my shawl, please.”
I walked through the house, breathing through my nose to stay calm, smiling as the two constables came down the stairs. There’d been no commotion, and I prayed Eoin had stayed asleep through it all.
I pulled a shawl from my wardrobe and stuffed my feet into Anne’s old boots, tying them as swiftly as I could. I didn’t want the captain searching without me. I wanted his eyes to see the picture I had already painted. I just prayed the men in the barn and the guns were long gone.
We walked through the drizzle, some cadets walking to the edge of the lawn, looking into the trees, and some remaining back at the house. A lantern still flickered from the barn, and I stumbled purposefully, reaching for the captain. He slowed, and I took his arm with a grateful smile.
“Well, we’ve had an adventure, haven’t we?” I said. “The doctor will be all ears when he gets home. And hopefully we’ll have a new foal as well.”
“When do you expect the doctor, Mrs. . . . ?”
“Gallagher,” I supplied. “Tomorrow or the next day. He used to go to Dublin a great deal more when Lord French was governor general. The doctor’s late father was a friend of Lord and Lady French. Do you know Lord French, Captain?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure, Mrs. Gallagher,” the captain replied, but I heard a softening in his tone. Thomas might not have wanted me to share that information, but under the circumstance, a friendship with a British loyalist could only reassure the captain.
When we walked into the barn, Daniel O’Toole was leading the sweat-slicked mare around in circles, stopping every now and again to murmur to her before he began walking again. His shirt was still covered in blood, and his one arm, his shirtsleeves rolled above his elbows, was streaked with it.
He jerked in surprise upon seeing us—a convincing act, though I doubted the fear in his face was anything but genuine.
“How’s the mare, Mr. O’Toole?” I said brightly, as if the men around me were simply special visitors. Daniel’s eyes snapped to mine, noting the American accent.
“I’m walking her for a bit, Mrs. Gallagher. Sometimes it helps.”
“You’re covered in blood, man,” the captain snapped.
“Oh, I am that, sir!” Mr. O’Toole agreed heartily. “It looks worse than ’tis. Her waters broke when I checked her. But I felt the wee wan’s head, I did. Two little front hooves too.”
“Are you the only one here, Mr. O’Toole?” the captain barked, clearly not interested in the grittier details of birthing a foal.
“My son Robbie is in the bunk in back. He’s sleepin’ now. Had a little too much to drink, he did. But it’s almost dawn, Captain. We’ve been up with the mare all night.”