Engaging the Enemy

by Heather Boyd

  Had the old duke sent this man, a member of his own family, to her bed?

  She stumbled into a chair. What was it Leopold had told her? He’d said he hadn’t been here at the abbey for years. Not since the old duke threatened his family with harm unless he did him a service. Leopold had not been comfortable, at first, in her presence and he’d never fully explained what that service was.

  She stared at him. She had been forced to share her bed with a strange man when her husband’s failing health had restricted his ability to bed her and bring about a pregnancy. Had she finally found the man who had shattered her perfect world during one long night of frantic bliss?

  Then there was the troubling matter of the sudden attraction between them that had caught her unprepared. She had never behaved like this before; pursuing a man who did his best to keep a respectful distance. She had attributed her fascination to Leopold’s reticence. Mercy had always liked a challenge. She had wanted to learn everything about this man before the chance slipped away. Had she unconsciously recognized him when they had met again?

  That utter bounder!

  Mercy paced the room as anger and humiliation washed over her. He must think it quite a joke to slip into her bed once more. What kind of man was he to play with her affections this way? She had fallen in love with that stranger. One night. One night of tender loving that had destroyed the fragile bond between her and her husband.

  Her husband had not cared for her outrage at the old duke’s plan. He had not cared that she would be bedded by another man when she’d confronted him before the deed had been done. He’d told her without an ounce of regret that she wouldn’t enjoy the experience but that Romsey must have its heir.

  Mercy sat with a thump, ignoring the cloud of dust billowing up from the old cushion.

  Edwin had been utterly wrong about that night.

  The man sent to bed her had been sweet, and thorough, and more loving than her own husband had been on his best day. He had not done anything to her that she had objected to and when asked for more, he had tenderly swept her away. When her husband had come to her bed the following night, she had not wanted him to come again. Edwin had been cold, and determined to complete the deed without her participation.

  She drew in a shuddering breath. No matter how gentle her stranger had been, he had used her, too. If it were true, she would not forgive Leopold for keeping his part in that night secret. He must have known when they met. How could she trust him now?

  “Mama?”

  As was his habit, Edwin sat up straight away and threw himself sideways over Leopold.

  Leopold started up suddenly, too, eyes wide on the small boy draped across his stomach. Edwin yawned sleepily and smiled up at him. Leopold stared at her child a long time, but then he must have registered her absence from the bed as his gaze searched for her quickly.

  When their eyes met, Mercy couldn’t force a smile to her lips. She didn’t know what to say to him yet. If her fears were true, she had been utterly duped by a man she thought she could trust from first sight. She had misjudged him very badly if that were the case.

  Leopold scrambled out from under Edwin, dropping her son to the bed in the process. Her son’s widened eyes and hurt expression moved Mercy toward the bed to comfort him. She gathered Edwin in her arms, whispering a good morning against his ear. But she kept track of Leopold as he bent to replace his shoes and draw on his coat.

  Her lover, the man who may very well have lied to her every moment since they had met, cleared his throat. “We can return to the family wing whenever you are ready.”

  “Of course.” Although he was almost too big to manage, Mercy carried Edwin with her as she crossed the room to slide her feet into her slippers. One of them, of course, proved troublesome but she didn’t want to release Edwin. She was afraid that if she did she would blurt out her accusation at Leopold and, if he didn’t deny it immediately, she’d start an argument while Edwin was near. Her fears could be groundless, after all. Mercy hated to be in the wrong.

  Leopold crossed the room, bent to capture her ankle, and set her foot within the shoe properly. His hand stroked over her skin, another decadent, hungry touch that reminded Mercy all too painfully of what she’d allowed this man to do. She had pursued him and seduced him and begged him to make love to her again and again.

  When he rose, she couldn’t meet his gaze directly. She stared at the roughly tied cravat and did her best not to want to fix it. “We are ready.”

  He nodded, crossed to the door, pistol already in his hand, and eased the door open a crack. After a few minutes, he widened it further and stepped out into the hall. Mercy waited, pulse pounding when he disappeared from sight and returned again.

  It may have been only a moment but that was all it took for Mercy to bury her anger, at least for the present. They had other problems to face. The madman was still due to call.

  “Can I help you by carrying him?” he asked.

  Mercy pressed Edwin’s head to her shoulder as he shifted subtly toward Leopold. “I can manage.”

  There must have been a touch of anger in her words because one of Leopold’s eyebrows rose. She hurried forward, along the hall toward the family wing, ignoring the man following in her wake. It would take a while to be easy with him if her suspicions were true, but until that time she would behave as a duchess should. She would keep Leopold Randall at arms length and out of her bed.

  She quickened her steps along the hall and slipped into her son’s bedchamber. Then, because she was still very angry, she set Edwin on his feet and slammed the door in Leopold’s face.

  Chapter Eighteen

  As the door shut with a loud crash, Leopold blinked in surprise. He’d thought Mercy had woken out of sorts this morning, but he hadn’t realized her dissatisfaction lay with him. What he had done between last night and this morning, he couldn’t imagine. But her coldness today did remind him that he knew very little about the woman. Maybe she’d had enough of him. Maybe her actions were designed to put him firmly back in his place as her inferior.

  Leopold retreated to the chamber across the hall, leaving the door ajar in case he was needed. Mercy had his thoughts spinning, none of them good, none of them satisfactory, and every one determined to drive him wild.

  He grabbed a chair and straddled it, resting his arms across the back as he faced the door she had disappeared through. How had he come to be in this situation? How had he forgotten completely what he was here for? It seemed that the moment he’d learned of the threat to Mercy and the child his whole world had changed direction. And all because he couldn’t silence the doubts.

  Was that truly his cousin’s son?

  Or was Edwin his?

  A child’s parentage mattered to society. Edwin was the legal heir, born within the marriage and had inherited the title of duke, the estate, and every responsibility when his father had passed away. But the boy reminded him of his two brothers when they were younger. Similarities he strove to ignore. For the devil’s sake, he’d almost embraced the child this morning, and yesterday when he’d carried the boy through the abbey he’d thought his heart might burst with joy.

  If Edwin was his offspring, he’d never be able to tell a sole but neither could he turn his back on the boy if he were in any form of danger.

  And the danger was coming to Romsey Abbey. He just didn’t know from where. Frustrated, he stood, checked the hall, and then prowled about the room. There was no telling where the danger might lie. In the open, or already within the abbey walls. How could someone bring a live animal into a building, slaughter it, and no one notice? Wilcox had questioned every servant personally, but none had offered up any clues. Were some in league with this monster, a lover of words and grim offerings?

  He didn’t know who to trust in this place.

  He stopped at the window and looked out. He trusted Wilcox and his valet, Colby. Two people in a house full of dozens. And what about Allen and his boys? He claimed to want to live quietly o
ut in the stables without Mercy knowing of his connection to the duke. But he’d have the means of entering the abbey and leaving the grim gifts about the place. Hardly anyone would wonder what he did. He could very well be the source of the threat. Was he as cold blooded as the old duke?

  Leopold raked his fingers through his hair. Everyone had to be held in suspicion until he got to know them better. Even Mercy herself. He set his hand to his chest as the memories of her in his arms, against his body, roused his desire. He couldn’t even trust those moments with her to be anything more than mutual lust.

  He did desire her. She gifted her body without hesitation. But her mind, motives, and her heart were a complete mystery to him. That she loved her son was in no doubt. But would she be happy if her son turned out to be his?

  A movement in the distance caught his attention. A carriage rumbled down the drive. As he squinted to see the conveyance more clearly, he recognized it from his first visit to the estate. Mercy had company coming and he should inform her so she might be ready in good time.

  He turned on his heel but then stopped. Across the hall, Mercy stood in Edwin’s doorway considering him. Her hand was on the door but she neither frowned nor smiled when he noticed her. She just stood there, as if she’d seen a ghost.

  “There is a carriage coming up the drive,” he said softly.

  “Is there?”

  Leopold nodded. “Yes. I remember the carriage from the other day. It is the same one that I passed as I came to see you the first time.”

  “The first time,” Mercy said slowly, eyes traveling the length of his body and back.

  The effect of her perusal, unfortunately, was immediate. His pulse raced and his arms ached to step forward and embrace her. Leopold quashed the notion as she folded her arms under her breasts. He swallowed. “Do you remember whom the carriage might belong to?”

  Her head tilted to one side and she continued to stare at him without blinking. “Lady Barnet visited here a few days ago along with her brother Lord Shaw.”

  Leopold couldn’t move. He was pinned in place by the coldness of her stare. For the first time since they had met, she resembled the woman in the drawing room painting downstairs. “Then it might be her carriage. It’s not too far away,” he warned.

  She pursed her lips, called her son to her, and hurried toward her bedchamber. Leopold hung back, confused by her behavior. He had upset her somehow, he was sure of it. But if she was upset she was not going to give him any clues on how to make things right between them.

  At her door, she stopped. “Are you going to inspect my chamber first or shall we both be slaughtered while you do nothing but stare?”

  Puzzled by her hostility, Leopold stepped into her chamber first, checked beneath the wide bed, drapes and connecting chamber then gave her a nod. She flicked her hands at him impatiently and he hurried to the door. But at the threshold, he glanced over his shoulder and found her standing with her face buried in her hands.

  Leopold couldn’t bear it. He shut the door, ruffled Edwin’s hair as he passed the boy, and pulled Mercy into his arms. “Don’t fret, love. All will be well soon.”

  At first, she stood stiffly. It took a few moments before she softened, curling against him with a stifled sob. He stroked her back, comforting her as best he could. He wasn’t surprised by her tension. Most people in her situation wouldn’t have held up under the strain as well.

  After a minute or two, she pushed him away. “I need to get ready for Anna’s visit.”

  “Of course, I’ll be waiting for you both outside.”

  Mercy drew in a shuddering breath. “You cannot stay with me while Anna is here. I should like to be alone with my friend.”

  If Leopold had felt like a dirty little secret before, he was drowning in muck today. So she did not want her friend to see him at all. He should have known his only use was in her bed. He spun on his heel. “I will await the moment for you to dismiss me then, Your Grace.”

  “Leopold,” she called before his hand had touched the doorknob. “Will you keep Edwin with you during her visit? Anna has no interest in children.”

  He might not be wanted, but apparently he did have his uses. Minding the child would be no great hardship. He just hoped he didn’t fret about Mercy’s safety the entire time they were apart.

  ~ * ~

  “Oh, my darling,” Anna cried. “You do look under a dreadful strain. Is this Randall chap very vulgar and forward with you? Shaw tells me you couldn’t send him away.”

  Mercy patted her friend’s hand. “It’s been an interesting week, Anna, but Mr. Randall has been very polite and agreeable.”

  “Yes, well. I do wish you had written me yourself. It is dreadfully sad when your brother knows more about a dearest friend than you. I must reconcile myself to that future pattern, no doubt. He said you had a cozy tête-à-tête yesterday. Are you coming to London with me next week?”

  “Next week?”

  Anna leaned against her side and winked. “The change of scenery will do you good. We can go to the theatre, dancing, and my brother can court you as you deserve.”

  Mercy shuddered. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Lord Shaw. But how could she tell her best friend that her brother’s advances left her cold? There was no way to do it without offending the woman.

  “Maybe another time. There is so much here to do just now that I could not possibly leave.”

  Anna drew back, a frown marring her features. “Are you afraid this Randall chap will take over the abbey in your absence?”

  “Of course not. What a thing to suggest.” She laughed, remembering she had done everything in her power to make him stay this long. The idea of Leopold wanting what Edwin had was ludicrous. Even more so if her suspicions had any truth to them.

  Anna shrugged. “I have not slept easily since hearing of his return and I’ve spent many an hour wondering what he is about. Why has he come at last?”

  Mercy wasn’t sure she should confide in Anna about Leopold’s missing siblings. Leopold deserved a little loyalty and certainly his privacy. “The news of his cousin’s death did not reach him till recently and he’s come to pay his respects. Since he’d traveled so far, I invited him to stay awhile. He is otherwise engaged at the moment, but it has been nice to have him here.”

  “Nice.” Anna bristled. “Only you would call such a man nice. I should have liked to take a peek at him. A gentleman would have made himself known by now. It speaks poorly that he’s skulking about here and has not been seen outside the abbey recently.”

  There were several good reasons why Mercy didn’t want to have Leopold meet Anna today. The first, of course, was the threat to her son. Edwin needed protection more than she did. The second, she was still tremendously angry with Leopold. And third, sadly, she didn’t know if she could hide how much she admired the blasted scoundrel. Even in her current temper, she found it hard to look away from him.

  Anna would see her interest and could never be counted on to hold her tongue.

  Her scrutiny would make Leopold uncomfortable—not that he didn’t deserve a little discomfort today. He’d likely known he’d bedded the Duchess of Romsey five years ago. He must consider himself quite accomplished to fool her. And, knowing the current duke was likely his child, he’d still returned to the abbey and pretended they’d never met.

  Well, maybe she could give him a small concession. She hadn’t known her midnight lover’s name either. The room had been black as pitch, they’d not spoken above a whisper, and even then the most they had uttered were gasps and moans. She had never seen him clearly and he may not have seen her either. She shuddered. Remembering. Feeling her emotions conflict inside her.

  Damn him.

  “Lady Venables,” Wilcox intoned, standing aside so Blythe could join them in the drawing room.

  Blythe’s face was drawn and pale, so much so that Mercy leaped to her feet and caught up her sister’s hands. “What has happened?”

  “I’m sorry,” s
he whispered. “I never should have—” the rest of her words died on her tongue as she spotted Anna across the room. “Forgive me? I didn’t realize you had company already.”

  Mercy forced a bigger smile to her lips. “Anna came a while ago but I am very happy to see you. Will you stay and take luncheon with me? I’ve missed you so much these last few days.”

  When Mercy embraced Blythe, the hug was returned lightly. “Of course, Your Grace. I’d be happy to join you.”

  Since they hadn’t seen each other in days, Mercy captured her sister’s arm and steered her toward the settee opposite Anna. Anna looked a bit put out when Mercy didn’t resume her spot at her side, but she ignored it all in favor of keeping hold of Blythe. She didn’t look at all well. When Anna was gone, she would get to the bottom of things with her sister.

  “And how do you get along, Lady Venables?” Anna asked with a touch of condescension tingeing her words.

  “Very well, thank you,” Blythe replied. “And you, Lady Barnet?”

  Anna turned a bemused smile on Mercy. “I find Her Grace’s situation vastly unsettling. Imagine the strain she is under by having that man reside here?”

  Blythe frowned. “What man?”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “Why that presumptuous Randall fellow, of course. He is staying here, under this very roof, no doubt plotting to do the poor child in and steal the title for himself. We’ll likely need to have Shaw come and remove him by force, I expect. What an outrage to find him encamped here.”

  Blythe’s glaze flickered around the room. “Is that true? Is Randall here now?”

  Mercy smiled, cursing Anna under her breath at the same time. “Of course he is here. He is family, after all. How else can one get to know new family without seeing them frequently?”

  Blythe frowned. “I’d like to visit with Edwin, if I may.”