by Heather Boyd
“No need to get your hands dirty, Mr. Randall. That’s what I brought my boys for.” Allen waved them forward. “Lads, open her up and let the water out at a slow rate. We don’t want a rush.”
Leopold stepped back as the two young men went at the weeds enthusiastically. Before long, they were covered in muck but had the spillway clear and were slowly digging out soil. Water rushed out in a murky wave, swirling around their feet and splashing their legs on its way down the hill.
“Careful there,” Leopold called anxiously. He didn’t want anyone accidentally swept away if the dam burst.
Allen barked a laugh. “They can swim like fishes, that pair. Unlike some Randall devils I could name.”
A cold wave of recognition swept over Leopold and he spun about. “You can’t be that Allen.”
Allen moved away, spoke to his sons in a low tone, and when they moved off, he turned back to Leopold. “No?” His eyebrow rose. “Who am I then that the likes of you would know me?”
Whispers. Lies. Scandal.
Leopold tightened his hand on the reins, peering at the face before him, changing it, making the other man younger. His breath caught. This place was alive with the sins of the past. It was all there when he looked hard enough: the family resemblance. “I remember now. You’re the duke’s other son. First son,” he whispered. The one his parents had known about and spoken of in hushed tones. With everything that had happened in the last ten years, Leopold had forgotten this one small detail. What else had he forgotten?
Allen raised his finger. “Unacknowledged son, if you don’t mind. Father could hardly look at me once he had his heir.”
Despised illegitimate brother, if Leopold remembered correctly. Mercy’s husband had hated him simply because he existed and had been born first—not that he could inherit.
“My father accepted you into his house when you came to call.”
“More fool him. Befriending me did not do him any good in the end, now did it?” Allen mounted his horse with a groan. “My boys know nothing of that connection. I’d take it kindly if you don’t speak of the matter again.”
Leopold swung up into the saddle, too. “Then why are you here at Romsey, cousin?”
A sad smile crossed the older man’s face as he looked back toward the abbey. “For all his faults, the duke kept a fine stable. Can’t let the horses suffer under the duchess’ ignorance of the beasts.”
“Does she know?” Had she lied to him all along about her knowledge of the Randall’s whereabouts?
“Of course not. What would I say? If my father had done the decent thing and married my poor, penniless mother, then I’d be duke rather than her son.” Allen snorted. “What good would that do? I’ve no wish to be despised. It is better she not know.”
“The duchess might surprise you,” Leopold warned. Hell, she surprised Leopold every day. What would she say about an illegitimate relation living on the estate? Leopold doubted very strongly she’d react in the expected way.
“Leave matters as they are. I’m content in the stables with the horses and my boys. Better you in the abbey, minding your p’s and q’s before the duchess’ sister, than me. A sad, queer one her sister. I don’t envy any man the time spent in her presence.”
He moved off, following after his sons, leaving Leopold gaping at the idea that another Randall, if not one so named or acknowledged, had come home to Romsey. Edwin had more family living at Romsey Abbey than he would ever realize. A shame Allen and his sons wouldn’t be known for who they really were.
Perhaps, before he left Romsey, he could tell Mercy about Allen without giving his name at first. He would see how she took to the idea that the old duke had an illegitimate son living in the area. Perhaps he could smooth the way by mentioning he worked on the estate. It would be good to know that Edwin wasn’t alone here when he left. It would be better if his cousin could care for the boy more than the horses.
~ * ~
Mercy opened her eyes. The room was quiet about her. Too quiet for her not to be alone in her bed again. She glanced left to the space beside her where Leopold had rested his head, but no sign of her midnight lover remained. He had slipped from her bed quietly sometime during the early morning and she missed the reassurance of his presence.
She slapped her hand to her face as memories of last night surfaced. Leopold’s bold demands for her surrender had inflamed her. She had unashamedly begged him for more. She’d thought he might consume her with his passions. He hadn’t hidden how much he’d desired her and, even now, she wanted his hands on her skin, making her cry out, making her feel desirable and wanted once more.
Although the hour was still early, Mercy sat up, holding the sheet tightly across her bare chest. Her maid would be along in a little while but she had much to decide now that her attraction to Leopold was out in the open between them. She had to determine how much to tell him about the threats plaguing her and Edwin. Would he want to help her sort out the mess, or would he turn tail and leave?
Well, she’d never know until she spoke to him and to do that she’d better be wearing more than nothing.
She flung off the bedding and reached for her night gown. The soft silk caressed her skin and Mercy blinked at how such a mundane action affected her. Would every touch of silk remind her of Leopold’s caresses? If so, her day would be an unending torment of unfulfilled desire. She’d have to capture Leopold’s attention somehow. She’d enjoy seducing him again if she could.
Feeling buoyed by her success last night, Mercy rang for her maid to come and dress her. But she was anxious to see Leopold and determined to kiss him again, too, if she could arrange it. What a talented mouth that man had. He had made her wanton with his very first smile.
While she completed her toilette, she ignored her maid’s inspection of her unlaced corset flung to the far reaches of the room. The girl must be wondering how she’d set herself free last night because they’d joked before about the inescapable garment. Leopold was correct; she had to take care to keep any affair between them hidden, even if she suspected the feat beyond her. She would not like Leopold to feel uncomfortable for wanting her. She couldn’t have the servants gossiping.
As she sat at her writing table sipping hot chocolate and eating corners of toast, she focused on the threatening letters.
The first had arrived during the summer, a bare month after her husband’s death. That first day after the steward’s hasty departure, trying to fathom the order of the ducal study, had worn her nerves to the quick. But she’d set herself the task of taking charge of the estate then, and that meant keeping abreast of the many invitations and letters of condolence sent to her each day.
She had dismissed the letter as a joke until she noticed another. The two letters, penned in the same hand and sharing the same threatening tone, had startled her. Then, as she’d uncovered more unopened correspondence of the same ilk tucked behind the estate ledgers, her worries had compounded. Those earlier threats seemed real, but the taunting lacked urgency.
Of late, though, she sensed the writer of these awful notes coming closer, his mind resolved to punish Edwin for the affront of being the Duke of Romsey. But he was just a boy. He’d done no harm to anyone.
A knock sounded on the door and Mercy acknowledged the knock immediately and invited whoever it was to come in. But then she froze. Should she be so careless now? Her breath whooshed from her lungs in relief as her son’s night guard opened the door for Edwin. As he raced across the chamber to her, Mercy resolved to change her habits. She should not answer the doors unprepared anymore. She must exercise better care in the future.
Edwin climbed into her lap and kissed her cheek. “You’re awake!”
Mercy tickled his belly until he giggled. “Of course I am. It’s only you who sleep the day away. Have you eaten yet?”
He nodded vigorously. “Cook made apple puffs. Does Mr. Randall like apple puffs?”
Mercy smoothed his dark hair back from his eyes. “I’m not sure.
Perhaps we should go find him and ask. Would you like that?”
“Yes. But he’s already gone out on his horse to ride the estate. Cook said so. He knows everything.”
Mercy laughed. One day, Edwin would be the one to know everything, not cook. “Ah, well, Mr. Randall is a busy man. He’s going to help us with Romsey so we better not be too sad about it. Perhaps we could ask him later. I was hoping you might like to take a picnic this afternoon. Would you enjoy that?”
Edwin squealed with excitement. “Yes, yes. Could cook make us chicken sandwiches and gingerbread? Can we play hide and seek, too? Can we invite Mr. Randall?”
Mercy laughed. “Yes, my love. We can do all of that. Now let us visit cook and Wilcox to see what needs to be arranged.”
As she caught up her son’s hand, she decided to come clean to Leopold about everything today at the picnic, if he could be persuaded to come. She’d tell him about the letters and gruesome gifts left in her bedchamber. A picnic setting should be perfect for such a disclosure. Out in the open, where no one could hear her fears.
Chapter Fifteen
There was something to be said of the thrill of conducting an affair when you know it would only lead to ruin. But there was also the intense frustration of not being able to have what he wanted, when he wanted it, that tempted him to throw propriety out the window.
Leopold pushed a pile of old invitations aside and threw his quill away in disgust. He was acting like a green boy. But once tasted, he could not get the yearning for Mercy out of his mind. He shifted in his chair, adjusting his trousers to accommodate the sudden surge of desire that the thought of her passion aroused. She was quite simply a woman made for loving. Uninhibited, free of any false artifice. Mercy’s come hither looks were driving him mad.
Even now, with a pile of work between them, she tempted him to whisk her away to somewhere more private and make her cry out in ecstasy. He’d used every trick he knew last night to keep her aroused and pleasured without his cock buried inside her too often. But there were limits to what a man could deny himself and those limits could be breached.
Across the room, Mercy sat in carefree abandon, reading a document he’d thrust at her. The investment proposal had merit and should at least be given some serious consideration. However, all Leopold could think of at that moment was kissing away the frown lines on her forehead.
As if sensing his regard, her gaze rose. “This is utter gibberish to me. You decide.” Mercy tossed the pages onto the desk and groaned.
Leopold snatched them up and straightened the sheets. “I cannot do that and you know it, Your Grace. If you would just read through the second page again you can see the terms and expected return on your investment. However, I would suggest further investigation into the business affairs and principal operators before committing any funds to the project. If it is as good as it appears, the investment could be very lucrative.”
Mercy stood and so did Leopold. Another frown marred her forehead. “An investigation? Would my temporary advisor handle such matters for me personally?”
Leopold turned to face her. “Not necessarily. Your London man of business can conduct the necessary interviews and hire a runner to ensure the business is legitimate. Then, if it is sound, the matter would need to be forwarded to your brother for his approval.”
When she stopped a bare inch from his chest, Leopold’s heart pounded. She had avoided all intimate contact with him since last night. She hadn’t joined him until an hour ago, or attempted to kiss him when they’d first greeted each other, much to his disappointment. He had started to believe he’d imagined last evening altogether.
“Good. I should not like to have you depart from Romsey.” Her fingers traced the pattern on his waistcoat. “Are you busy this afternoon?”
Leopold gulped as his body responded, cock throbbing for the woman to come closer. “I do have work to continue with here.”
She licked her lips as she adjusted his cravat. “Edwin and I are taking a picnic this afternoon. We wondered if you might join us.”
Leopold set his hand to her hip and she swayed closer. “I should not intrude on your time with the boy.”
Mercy’s face rose to meet his. Her gaze was sultry, her lips parted and damp. “We would not invite you if it were an imposition, Leopold. I want to spend the afternoon out of doors and I think you would enjoy the fresh air, too. You have worked tirelessly all morning and I am profoundly grateful for your diligence. But, if you must, bring some of those papers with you. No doubt Edwin will fall asleep at some point and you shall have leisure to peruse them.”
Leopold cupped Mercy’s bottom, dragging her flush against him. “You had everything planned out before you asked me to join you and Edwin, didn’t you?”
Her lips lifted into a cheeky smile. “A woman, even a duchess, must tempt the man she desires to throw his reticence aside. I missed you when I woke this morning.”
Mercy rose on her toes and set her lips to his. While Leopold struggled to hold back, Mercy twined her arms about his neck and plundered. She curled her arms tighter about him as the kiss continued, needy and desperate once again. Leopold couldn’t stop his reaction. He couldn’t control the need to be inside her body again. Slowly, he inched her gown up her legs, determined to touch her skin. Mercy’s touch stilled him.
He drew back to look into her face. Had he got it wrong? Had she taken her fill of him already?
Her eyes were filled with regret. “Edwin is waiting.”
Leopold stepped back, dropping her gown, surprised by his disappointment. “Ah. My apologies.”
“Do not apologize for wanting me. I quite like how much you do.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Later. I promise. We should be ready to go in a moment.”
As she swept from the room, Leopold considered how difficult the afternoon would be. At least the presence of the boy would temper his lust. But he doubted his heart would remain impervious to the time he spent in the boy’s company. He already cared too much about Edwin for his comfort. He snatched up a pile of unopened correspondence, hoping the contents would prove a reasonable distraction from his lustful thoughts, and followed Mercy into the hall.
A few steps from the main doors the butler approached him. “Her Grace mentioned that you are joining the picnic, sir.”
“Yes, Wilcox. Was there something you wanted me to attend to before we depart?”
“Just a small matter, sir.” The butler drew Leopold aside, out of earshot of the lingering footmen. “Are you, by any chance, armed?”
Unsure of what to make of the question, but disturbed by it nonetheless, Leopold nodded. “Always.”
The butler sagged with relief. “That is excellent news. Thank you.”
Leopold waited for an explanation to follow the butler’s pleasure at hearing he was armed, but Mercy and young Edwin arrived, followed by a maid. The little boy tugged on his mother’s hand and, while she took his enthusiasm with great patience, Leopold rather thought she wished he would desist.
He stepped forward. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
The little boy gaped up at him then clung to his mother’s skirts. Leopold cursed under his breath. He hadn’t meant to startle him into silence. He’d hoped to provide Mercy with a useful distraction. Perhaps he was out of practice with young children. It was probably for the best.
Mercy bent down to Edwin’s level. “Sweetheart, say hello to Mr. Randall. You remember him, don’t you?”
The little boy nodded, suddenly shy. Their eyes met. The boy looked just like his youngest brother when he was about to be scolded. Leopold smiled. “Shall we be on our way, Your Grace? It looks to be a fine day for your picnic.”
On hearing the word picnic, the little boy untangled himself from his mother and rushed out the open front door and down the steps, heading for the waiting carriage at a run.
“Edwin, stop,” Leopold ordered without thought.
The boy halted and spun about, shock clear o
n his face. Had no one ever raised their voice to him before? He hadn’t meant to frighten the child and he slowly approached Edwin. He bent down closer to the boy’s height as Mercy had done and placed his hand on his trembling arm. “You must wait for your mother, lad. A lady must always be escorted.”
Although the boy was very young, Leopold thought he understood because he did wait for his mother to join him before clambering into the open coach door. But what if he hadn’t stopped? Would Edwin have rushed straight under the horse’s hooves or fallen beneath the carriage wheels if the horses had been startled into movement?
He glanced up at the driver’s bench and met Allen’s raised brow. His cousin seemed bemused by the outing and Leopold’s place in the procession. With a swift glance at the rear of the conveyance, he spotted Allen’s two sons. It seemed the outing was to be a family affair. A pity Mercy didn’t realize.
Leopold was unused to caring about the health of the Duke of Romsey. Yet he cared greatly about this boy, this child that could be his, one who should not be a duke at all. He couldn’t bear the thought of him in peril of any kind. Heart pounding, he climbed into the carriage and sat beside the maid.
The carriage lurched forward and Edwin squealed with delight over the outing to come. As Mercy fussed with straightening the boy’s hair, Leopold tried to settle his anxiety. It was just a simple picnic outing. There was nothing strange about such an endeavor. There was no need to fret over the boy unnecessary as he was doing now.
When the carriage turned into a shaded lane a short distance from the abbey and stopped, Leopold exited and helped the maid and Mercy out. But when it was Edwin’s turn, the boy didn’t climb out. He launched himself into Leopold’s arms with a giggle. Shocked to be holding the child, Leopold put him down swiftly.