Her other hand covered his as tears spilled down her cheeks. Oliver quickly wiped them away, his heart full of love for her and her precious emotions. “I’ve been alone all my life, Elizabeth, either by design or the absence of choice. I don’t wish to remain in one place forever, but I don’t wish to be without you. The world is a very large place and I cannot bear to be so far away from you ever again.”
Her eyes closed, blocking his view of her expression.
“I think you ought to marry me and when George is a little older we should travel the world together.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “And if I do not wish to travel beyond England?”
He had always believed that he was alone in his desire for adventure. If she didn’t want to share in his dreams then there could be strife between them in the future. He didn’t want that. He couldn’t bear to lose now what he’d searched his whole life to find. “Then loving you will be the greatest adventure of my life. Do you think you could put up with me that long? I will likely say and do all the wrong things and make you angry. I’m blunt and the niceties of social discourse quite often bore me.
“I offer myself to you, Elizabeth. To be your husband and friend, though little good it will do you. Let me love you all the days of my life and protect and treasure every one of your scowls.”
“Well, it certainly will be an adventure.” Her gaze grew flinty. “Did you really frighten Henry enough to soil himself in a public tavern?”
“Not one of my finer moments, but I had quite enough experience with madmen to pull it off convincingly.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out the other matter that he wanted to discuss with her. “While I have you alone, I need your advice. Do you recognize this?”
He opened his hand to reveal the jade brooch once belonging to his sister.
“Oh no.” Elizabeth took the brooch from his palm and held it, her thumbs sliding over the glossy, deep green stones. “This belonged to Rosemary. Where did you find it?”
“In the duke’s sanctuary,” he admitted without a shred of hesitation at revealing the truth. A weight came off his shoulders with his confession. If he truly loved her, then there shouldn’t be secrets between them. “Should I tell my brothers I found it and where?”
Elizabeth leaned against him. “This isn’t proof that she’s dead. Only that she was being held for a time. Rose was strong and the most devious young woman I knew. Don’t tell them. Let them hope a little longer that she’ll be found safe and sound.”
Oliver took the piece back and tucked it out of sight in his pocket. He would do what Elizabeth suggested. He would continue as caretaker of the secrets of Romsey Abbey, guarding the spoils until the young duke came of age.
He gathered Elizabeth in his arms and held her tightly, ready and willing to do so for the rest of his life. “I’m trying to be patient but I fear our time alone is short and that George will return to us soon. What must I do to convince you?”
Elizabeth looked up at him, hand rising to cup his face. “I’m already convinced.”
Oliver lowered his head and brushed his lips against Elizabeth’s, his heart beating faster with each tender kiss. With George in the other room, he couldn’t become carried away, so he kept his kisses light rather than show the hunger she caused to burn in him. Eventually he released her, content to simply be by her side. He had found exactly where he belonged and never doubted for a moment that he would enjoy the adventure of love.
A movement beyond her shoulder drew his attention and he turned his head slightly to see his accomplice. Elizabeth’s son danced a merry jig, smiled widely, and then ducked back inside his new bedchamber before his mother could realize George had played a large part in bringing her here tonight so Oliver could propose.
Epilogue
BETH FITTED A diamond choker around Blythe’s throat and stepped back to see the full effect of her wedding attire. “Perfection. Tobias is the luckiest man today.”
Mercy, seated across the room at a similar dressing table, cleared her throat loudly.
Beth rushed to the other side of the room and set her hands to the duchess’s shoulders. “So is Leopold, I promise.” She giggled at the expression on Mercy’s face and checked that the diamond-tipped pins in the duchess’s dark hair were secure still. “They are both very fortunate to have such lovely women agree to put up with them.”
Mercy caught her hand and squeezed. “Can you believe I’m nervous?”
“I am too,” Blythe agreed as she joined them.
Beth glanced between them. “What is there to be nervous about? It’s obvious they love you and would do anything you ask of them.”
Someone tapped at the door and Beth hurried to intercept the messenger, only opening the door a small amount. “Is it time?”
“The vicar is waiting, the guests are gathered in the drawing room, drinking anything that’s given them,” Murphy warned with a wink as he passed two bunches of freshly cut flowers through the gap. “The brides’ grooms are no worse for the drink consumed last night in celebration and are practically a wreck of nerves and impatience. In short, there’s much to laugh over today.”
“You’re enjoying their discomfort far too much, Mr. Murphy,” Beth said, but was delighted by the events of the day. She juggled the flowers into one arm and wagged her finger at him. “If you are not careful to hide it, they will get their revenge when it’s your turn.”
He peered over her head, trying to see the ladies waiting behind her. Beth quickly set her foot behind the door to keep his curiosity from being satisfied. Murphy’s expression grew sly and then he laughed. “You first. When Her Grace and the countess are ready we await them downstairs.”
He departed and Beth faced her friends. “It’s time.”
The sisters exchanged nervous glances and then together they each took a bunch of flowers. Beth followed behind her friends as they strolled down the deserted hallways of Romsey Abbey toward their wedding, happy as never before. She had always loved attending weddings and this one was special because she’d been allowed to share in the preparations.
At the foot of the stairs, Beth left them to enter the drawing room alone and took a place to the left of the vicar. She scanned the heads before her and saw no strangers in their midst. Disappointment filled her that the duchess’s and countess’s brother had not arrived at the last minute.
Beth slid into the vacant space beside George and waited for the ceremony to begin. Mercy and Blythe appeared at the doorway and paced into the room at a leisurely speed, attention fixed on the two Randall men waiting for them.
As the service got underway, her glance was drawn to Oliver. He had not pushed her to set a date or even announce that they would marry. In the days after his proposal, she’d been grateful because this wedding had consumed her every spare moment. Yet now that Leopold would have Mercy and Tobias would marry Blythe, impatience to be with Oliver surfaced. They couldn’t marry until the banns were called and that would mean four more weeks of separation.
At long last the brides were married to their grooms and the guests began to crowd the newlyweds and chatter between themselves. George excused himself from her side as she waited her turn to congratulate each new couple, smiling happy tears at their joy. “You kept your title in the end, Your Grace.”
Mercy shook her head. “I didn’t want to, but as you know my husband is stubborn and insisted it should be kept for Edwin’s benefit. Any correspondence I send will be cumbersome.”
Leopold laughed. “It will be worth it, Your Grace. Trust me.”
“Oh, I do trust you.” Mercy’s hand cupped her new husband’s face. “From the moment we met I have known exactly how true your heart was.”
They stared into each other’s eyes and Beth quickly decided to leave them to their own devices. She excused herself and turned to the other newly married couple and embraced Blythe. “Mrs. Randall, so pleased to meet you.”
The former countess grinned impishly as she hung on he
r husband’s arm. “Thank you, Beth. I’m so happy.”
Her eyes filled with tears and Beth dug for a lacy handkerchief to offer the lady before she ruined her complexion.
Her husband leaned forward. “How long do we have to mingle?”
“As long as your wife requires,” Beth teased. Tobias hadn’t been too comfortable around most of the exalted guests invited for the wedding in the past few days, but for Blythe’s sake he’d kept his boredom from showing until now. “You have the wedding breakfast and toasts to sit through next and then…”
Beth left the rest unsaid. Once the newly married couples had departed the breakfast, the guests would amuse themselves until their departure. Careful planning meant that everything was arranged in advance and Beth had nothing further to do today.
She scanned the room and then heaved a sigh when she couldn’t find the man she wanted. Oliver had been even less inclined to talk to the guests than Tobias and had already disappeared. At least she knew where he’d probably be. He’ll have taken George to the library to continue his study of languages.
Oliver hurried George into Romsey’s long gallery where the wedding breakfast was being held. He slid into his place beside Elizabeth as George took the other, just in time to hear a guest propose a toast to the couples’ happiness and contentment.
Judging by the dreamy smile that played over the duchess’s face that contentment would only increase in the next few months’ time when she announced that she carried Leopold’s child.
When Elizabeth put her glass down, she turned to him. “Where were you?”
“It’s a surprise for later,” Oliver said with a wink. It had taken him and George little time to make their preparations for their first adventure. After careful consideration, he wasn’t giving Elizabeth a chance to change her mind.
He suffered through the small talk expected when dining with strangers, keeping one eye on the brides and grooms. First Tobias and Blythe disappeared from sight and then Leopold, on seeing their younger brother had already absconded with his bride, grabbed the duchess’s hand and lured her away from her friends.
Oliver bowed his head as he laughed at his brothers’ hurry to get their brides alone. He was feeling a similar inclination for privacy with Elizabeth, although he had to wait some hours for that likelihood. When Beth appeared restless, he helped her stand and gave the signal, a nod to George, for him to leave via the side door.
When Elizabeth looked about for her son a little anxiously, Oliver held out his arm. “He’s this way, my angel.”
A pretty blush swept over her cheeks and she allowed him to draw her to the entrance hall. Eamon waited with his and Elizabeth’s cloaks draped over his arm. “Carriage is ready and waiting, sir.”
“Excellent.” Oliver slipped into his topcoat. “You know what to do?”
“Of course.” Eamon snapped out the cloak and covered Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Best slip this on, Mrs. Turner. A light snow is falling and we don’t want you catching a chill.”
“Oliver?” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “What are you up to?”
Oliver caught her hand in his and squeezed. “Leopold and Mercy are likely to be in each other’s pockets as soon as the guests have departed tomorrow. Tobias and Blythe will be at Harrowdale and will hardly want anyone. I thought you and I might undertake our first adventure together. A trip to Scotland, if you agree, to be married as soon as we cross the border.”
A deep frown line appeared between her brows. “I don’t know. I couldn’t leave George behind with a pair of distracted newlyweds. What if you’re wrong and Henry comes back?”
Oliver smiled down at her. “Can you not guess what plans I’ve made?”
She looked about them quickly. “Where’s George?”
He tipped his head toward the front doors as Eamon opened them. “Outside. Waiting in the carriage for his mother to hurry up and elope. He’s very keen to visit Scotland and I couldn’t deprive him of the chance to see his fondest wish for us to be married come true. He’s not always a patient boy, apparently. He seems to want to call me papa very much and cannot wait for the banns to be called.”
“He’ll be as old as us if you two don’t get a move on,” Eamon grumbled as he held the door open despite the draft.
Oliver glanced out to the carriage and spotted George’s face pressed to the glass. Her son gestured for them to hurry up, practically bouncing on the padded benches in his eagerness to be underway.
Beth caught his arm. “I can’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“Yes, you can. I already told my brothers what I was planning last night and received their full blessing. Now, come along, my angel. The housekeeper has packed everything you could possibly need and we’ve many days till we reach the border. George suggested a detour into Wales on the return trip, but it depends on you and the weather not being against us.”
“You’ve convinced my son to conspire against me,” she said as he handed her into the carriage. “You know I always feared your influence over him and it seems I was right to be wary.”
Her words sounded aggrieved, but when he poked his head through the doorway her blue eyes were bright with amusement. She leaned out again to touch his face.
Oliver caught her hand and kissed it. “I have to say, his help has been most appreciated. You should know it was his idea that we elope, not mine.”
George rolled his eyes. “He would have waited forever.”
When Elizabeth launched herself at her son, tickling him for his part in their conspiracy, Oliver drew back, rather pleased with her easy acceptance of their plans. There’d always been a chance she’d refuse and want to wait for the banns to be called, but bringing George along on the trip to Scotland had eased her mind. Having the boy along was hardly an inconvenience. After all, her child was part of his fate.
He checked the carriage was properly loaded and turned to Romsey’s butler. “Should be back in three weeks, four at the outside if the weather is against us.” He shook Eamon’s hand and then glanced up at the façade of the abbey. The stone work was really quite breathtaking. He should make a note of it in the history he was writing.
Eamon pushed Oliver into the carriage roughly. “Take your time. Enjoy your adventure, Ollie.”
Eamon shut the door, stowed the step away, and then called out, “Take ’em away.”
“Oh, no,” Elizabeth called out. “I have an idea. Wait here.”
She scrambled from the carriage without waiting for the step to be lowered again and flew into the abbey, disappearing from sight very quickly. Eamon followed, but when five minutes had passed, Oliver began to be alarmed. As he and George stepped from the carriage again to determine whether they would go or not, Elizabeth emerged, passing a note to Eamon as she came. “Have Leopold send this to the Times and any paper he considers a possibility.”
Oliver assisted her into the carriage, puzzled by her smug expression.
Her brow rose. “I realized exactly what we needed to say to bring Rosemary home. I’ve asked for Leopold to place an announcement of our marriage into the papers. She won’t be able to resist returning to discover the truth. It was her fondest wish.”
Oliver caught her hand in his. “And mine.”
The carriage lurched and George’s questions began. They talked and planned and discussed and exclaimed over the sights moving past their window. As he’d predicted, this journey was a lot livelier than his previous trip to Portsmouth with Eamon. Elizabeth joined in on occasion and after a time, he detected her interest in the adventure was growing. He would make sure she was comfortable every step of the way.
A smile pulled at his lips as he held Elizabeth’s hand. He and George had agreed that they would behave as a family from the moment they left Romsey. At every stop on the way to Scotland, Oliver planned to introduce Elizabeth as his wife so she would be spared the discomfort of speculation and potential embarrassment at their elopement.
He made himself comfortable for the jo
urney and listened to his new family talk of the wedding that had just occurred and the adventure they were on now. For all his impatience for adventure beyond England’s shores, he treasured this moment, a gift he’d waited his whole life to experience. It was good to be traveling in the right direction with the two people he needed most in his life. The spoils of love and friendship seated before him were beyond precious and were his to guard till his dying breath.
THE END
Thank you so much for reading Guarding the Spoils. I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider leaving a review—either positive or negative. Reviews help others find a book that’s right for them.
Guarding the Spoils is book 3 in the Wild Randalls Series. If you’d like to read the books in order, they are as follows:
Engaging the Enemy
Forsaking the Prize
Guarding the Spoils
Hunting the Hero (Spring 2013)
Find out what’s next, or sign up for my mailing list to hear about new releases at http://heather-boyd.com.
About the Author
Heather Boyd is the author of sizzling romance with an historical bent. A fan of regency England settings, she writes m/f and m/m stories that push the boundaries of propriety and even break the laws of that time. Brimming with new ideas, she frequently wishes she could type as fast as she can conjure up new storylines.
She lives with her testosterone-fuelled family north of Sydney, Australia.
For more information visit
www.heather-boyd.com
Also by Heather Boyd
The Wild Randalls Series:
Engaging the Enemy
Forsaking the Prize
Guarding the Spoils
Hunting the Hero (Spring 2013)
The Distinguished Rogues Series:
Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls - Book 3) Page 24