“I do too,” Quinlan’s younger voice chimed in.
“No, you’ll be staying home.” Mr. Shanahan spoke firmly.
Before they could protest or say anything else, another knock came against the front door, this one less urgent but still firm.
Alannah slipped out the back door. She wouldn’t go to the brickyard, but she couldn’t stay at Oakland. She didn’t want to risk the possibility of bringing danger to the Shanahans’ doorstep. She’d been thinking about it all the while she’d gone up to her room to get her cloak.
If Shaw and his gang could do something like that at the brickyard, who would stop them from attacking theShanahans’ home too? Especially if they realized she was there?
“May I help you?” Mr. Shanahan asked to whoever had just been knocking.
What if a worker from the brickyard was bringing an update? She couldn’t go until she learned the latest news. She paused and listened.
“Oh aye, you can be helping alright.” The voice, with its Irish brogue, was familiar, but she scrambled to place it.
“Oh?” Mr. Shanahan’s tone took on a chill.
“I’m here to collect Alannah Darragh.” The demand carried through the entryway and out the back door. The voice most certainly belonged to Shaw.
Her pulse raced forward, and she pushed farther back against the house. She was too late. The danger had already arrived.
Silence settled over the entryway, and Mr. Shanahan didn’t respond right away. Did he know who Shaw Farrell was? Would he recognize him?
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Shanahan said. “Mind you, who did you say you were? And why exactly are you here for our maid?”
“Go get her,” said another voice, this one gruffer.
“Now hold on, Charlie,” Shaw said. “Let’s be polite about the matter.”
“Get us the girl,” the second man—Charlie—said again, this time slower, as if that proved he was polite.
Alannah shuddered. After weeks of hiding successfully from Shaw, all it had taken was the rumor today to give away where she was. He’d probably heard of Kiernan sleeping with her the same way every other person in the countrysidehad. Now that Shaw finally knew where she was, he’d come after her.
Should she just step inside and hand herself over?
She reached for the door handle. But even as she tightened her grip, she couldn’t make herself open the door. Torin would rather die than sacrifice her to Shaw. She suspected Kiernan would feel the same way.
“What business do you have with our maid?” Mr. Shanahan asked again, and this time, his voice dropped to a dangerous level.
A beat of silence ensued.
“You cannot be threatening me with your gun,” Mr. Shanahan said, “and expect me to allow you access to one of my hired staff.”
Had Shaw or Charlie pulled a gun on Mr. Shanahan?
Alannah was tempted to peek through the back door to find out what was going on. But she held herself stiffly against the house, her mind starting to whirl. Why wasn’t Shaw at the brickyard with the rest of the gang? Why set the destruction in motion and then come after her? Maybe he figured no one would be able to oppose his taking her, especially if Kiernan had already dashed off to rescue his brickyard.
“Put the gun away, Charlie.” Shaw again spoke smoothly, almost diplomatically. “I’m sure Mr. Shanahan doesn’t want any violence tonight. Not with his family watching.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Mr. Shanahan’s tone remained hard. “You’ll never get away with harming me or my family.”
“Just go get the girl, Mr. Shanahan. Then we’ll return to the brickyard and put an end to the fighting.”
“She belongs to my son Kiernan, so she does. He’s intending to marry her.”
“She belongs tome.” Shaw gave up the last pretense of friendliness. “Kiernan has known she’s mine all along, and he’s been trying to keep her from me.”
“Is that right, now?” Mr. Shanahan’s question dripped with disbelief. “What would the young woman say if we questioned her?”
