Forsaking the Prize

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Forsaking the Prize Page 6

by Boyd, Heather


  “Good lord, have we? How unexpected.”

  “Well, since the pair of us will always be first to arouse suspicion then, in my opinion, it is a good thing. You heard me shouting at Murphy to keep his paws off my trousers because I can bloody well dress myself, and I heard you pass by my doorway on your way down to breakfast. I caught sight of you at the head of the stairs and again when I reached the morning room for breakfast. We’ve barely been out of sight of each other for a few minutes since you left your bedchamber. The only way to have a stronger alibi is if we were sleeping in the same bed.”

  “Sleeping together? You must be mad.”

  Tobias grinned. “Well, you are right about the sleeping. Too much excitement to be had if we shared a bed.” He’d make sure she didn’t sleep a wink if they shared a bed. They’d probably fight and make love all night long.

  He frowned. It was a great pity that the idea of bedding Blythe kept recurring. He’d have to find a lover soon to take the edge off because she’d never welcome the idea.

  She shook her head. “You really do have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?”

  Tobias laughed. “Well, someone has to think well of me. If I was a weaker man, I’d be shivering in terror from half the looks you’ve bestowed on me these last weeks.”

  They reached the bottom of the stairs and Tobias cupped her elbow to steady her ascent. Her heat warmed and enticed. Her breath caught as he moved his thumb.

  “Given half the comments you’ve made to me,” she hissed. “I’m clearly not doing a good enough job of putting you in your place.”

  “My place? Where exactly might that be, B? Under your thumb or under your skirts?”

  “Don’t say such things to me.” She wrenched her arm free of his grip. “Will you ever get tired of this?”

  “Never. I’ve always enjoyed making a pretty woman blush. Besides, if Leopold has his way and turns me into the dull and proper gentleman society expects then you may well be the one person to ever know who and what I am. I’ve never lied to you to spare your tender feelings and from what I’ve gathered you have no concerns for mine. Take my arm again so I may be a gentleman. A man should not desert a lady halfway up the stairs, or so I’m told.”

  Blythe merely glared at him. “Am I to be grateful for having my senses shocked every time you open your mouth to speak?”

  “Would you rather have false flattery? I dislike insincerity above all else, my lady. My brother insists I become a gentleman—forget the past so that I can belong here again. I thought you at least valued honesty. However, if my brand of honesty offends you so greatly I will, of course, act as Leopold expects, but I wouldn’t believe one word that comes out of my mouth. Trust me, I won’t mean any of it.”

  Tobias strode up the stairs without her, but waited at the door so she could precede him inside. Stubborn wench. If she would rather boring conversation then so be it. Tomorrow night he would play the part of a proper gentleman. He would flatter and simper around the ladies, act gruff with the men, and bore himself and everyone he met to tears. He hoped he could pull it off without running screaming into the night.

  Leopold waited for them just inside the doors. “Will you stay below with Mercy and Edwin, Tobias, while I take a look into this latest occurrence?”

  Tobias rubbed his jaw. “I was actually hoping to see the carnage this time with my own eyes.”

  Leopold’s gaze shifted to Blythe and back. “Perhaps we should all go together then. We’ll do our best to shield Edwin from the mess.”

  They ascended the stairs and hurried along to the family wing, Mercy and Blythe striding along with arms linked together. When they reached a room, Leopold passed Edwin to his mother and gestured Tobias forward. “Exactly the same as all the other times.”

  Tobias blinked at the carnage on Mercy’s bed. Blood soaked linen, mangled rabbit corpse. Whoever was trying to scare Mercy away was a determined fellow. “So we can assume the same culprit is at work again.”

  “It looks that way,” Leopold said darkly.

  Tobias picked up the rabbit by the ears, watching the way the body dangled by the remaining thin cord of flesh and skin. The poor creature had almost been decapitated. A strong person had done this, someone without a shred of compassion in their being. He dropped the rabbit. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s take the boy outside to kick his pigskin ball around.”

  He met Blythe’s gaze. She was pale, backed up against the bedchamber wall taking shallow breaths, but so far she hadn’t fainted. He held out his arm and the beauty took it, a tremble of distress passing through to him as she clung. Poor creature to be so affected by blood. This event must be quite unsettling for her. If not for his life at sea, he too might be feeling as discomforted. But there was little that could shock him after seeing a man cut in half before his eyes and hearing his futile pleas for help.

  He shook off the memory. After finding the child’s toy, they walked outside to a patch of sunlit ground without a servant lingering nearby. Tobias led Blythe to a stone bench, saw her settled, and then moved away to think. He hunkered down against a low stone wall in the sun and closed his eyes to block out the distraction of his brother at play with the child.

  There had been no further threats to Mercy or the young duke until today. There had been very few visitors at the abbey since he’d come home and frightened Mercy and Blythe out of their wits.

  He pursed his lips together. The obvious connections were again Blythe’s presence at the abbey or the visitors.

  Approaching footfalls sliced through the grass. Tobias opened his eyes as Leopold stopped before him. “What are you thinking, brother?”

  He looked for young Edwin and saw that he’d tired of the ball and was digging in the earth at Blythe’s feet with a short stick. Tobias squinted up at his brother. “Has it always been different visitors coming and going on the day of these atrocities?”

  Leopold crouched down against the wall, too. “I believe so, yes.”

  “Is there anything to connect the visitor’s servants to Romsey Abbey? A footman who has changed employers perhaps—one who might want to seek revenge for a past wrong committed against them?”

  “Not that I can tell. Wait. Mercy said the steward who managed the estate left suddenly after our cousin died, but that was, oh, two years ago now. I should discover where he went. Perhaps Wilcox will know. These acts only started a year ago and it seems a long time for him to wait to seek revenge.”

  Tobias squinted at the cloudless sky. “It all started at the time Mercy came out of mourning?”

  “Yes. About then, I suppose. I hadn’t connected the timing of the two events together.”

  Someone had wanted Mercy to leave Romsey Abbey as soon as her mourning was over. But why? “Is there a particular reason Her Grace did not return to London when her mourning finished, aside from the boy?”

  Leopold ducked his head. “She said she was waiting, hoping I’d return.”

  Tobias laughed. Now that wasn’t the response he’d expected, and it was particularly sweet to see his brother’s discomfort.

  He looked over at the duchess. Mercy was in no way a typical female, much less a stern aristocrat. It might have been an easy thing to do to frighten a widow from the country if that woman hadn’t been as stubborn as an ox and bent on remaining in wait for her lover. She might parade around in feminine garb, but there was steel in the Duchess of Romsey’s gaze. Fierce loyalty, too. Whoever was doing this had grossly underestimated her character. She’d leave when she decided to go and not a moment sooner.

  The wind picked up, sending a chill through him. Whoever it was that committed these crimes may already be at the abbey and they used the arrival of visitors to cast doubts about their identity. Add Lady Venables odd behavior, fueled by grief, into the equation and the suspect might well have succeeded in driving Mercy from the abbey.

  Oliver, if he lived, would solve this puzzle easily. He’d find the pattern in the chaos and offer up a perfectly logic
al explanation for the events that were unfolding. Without him, they’d have to muddle through as best they could and hope they didn’t miss a clue.

  He studied the women seated on the bench. Despite the troubles surrounding them, the sisters were still close. Family and the best of friends. Their recent problems had temporarily driven them apart, but now they appeared to have mended their fences completely. Tobias was glad for that. They needed each other.

  He set his arm about his knees and leaned forward. “We must read everything in the duke’s sanctuary. Someone is trying to drive Mercy from the abbey. We need to work out why?”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing?”

  “Running the estate, arranging a wedding.” He slapped his brother’s leg and stood. “We’ll get to the bottom of this together. I’ll start today. Keep Mercy and the boy with you at all times. Lady Venables might not like it, but we are going to spend a lot of time together over the next few days. Can the duke’s sanctuary be reopened from the inside if the door is closed completely?”

  Leopold nodded.

  “Good, as an added precaution, I’d like Mercy to refrain from using the drawing room as often as possible so we can pull that room apart without worrying about someone snooping into things best kept within the family.”

  His brother stood, too. “I think Mercy will agree with that.”

  “Excellent. I’ll go there directly and begin.” He leaned close to Leopold. “Consider this: every time a visitor comes to Romsey the servant hall would be scrambling around to provide tea and such. Someone could easily slip upstairs and lay out another grim offering without being seen. Rather clever timing really.”

  Leopold shook his head. “You are complimenting a villain, Tobias.”

  “Clever, but not smart enough. We must catch them at it.”

  “That could be dangerous.”

  “Leopold, do you think I could not defend myself against one man in an unfair fight? Or even two? I evaded the entire estate staff for days. Nothing bad will happen to me.”

  Leopold frowned. “Does nothing frighten you?”

  Losing Rosie had terrified him. After that, everything else was easy. “I’m numb.”

  As Leopold strode back toward the duchess, another disturbing thought occurred to Tobias. Today was the first day that he had shown an interest in the contents of the duke’s sanctuary. What if the chamber held secrets the culprit didn’t want to come to light? But in what manner could his interest influence events at Romsey Abbey?

  He’d been tossed away like refuse in the harbor only to have the sea toss him back again. If not for chance, and a shipwreck, he might still be on the far side of the world.

  Seven

  Blythe attempted to control the fast pounding of her heart, but it wasn’t working very well. She was still considered the enemy, still held under suspicion by Leopold Randall. Tobias Randall seemed to believe in her innocence. The irony of that astounded her.

  She glanced across at where the men were speaking. For a change, Tobias appeared to be leading the discussion rather than bearing the brunt of another lecture. The tall man was as serious as she had ever seen him. He exuded confidence and tightly controlled anger. His whole frame was tense with it.

  “What are we going to do? I thought this was all over.” Mercy set her head on Blythe’s shoulder. “I thought having more people staying at Romsey might convince this lunatic to go away, but I was wrong.”

  Blythe had hoped for that, too. “Whoever it is has likely been watching. Waiting for their next chance.” Blythe set her head against her sister’s, drawing comfort from the familiar gesture. “Your Leopold is a man of routine and order, as are we.”

  Mercy sat up suddenly. “That is true. I like my little routines with Edwin and Leopold has fallen into mine quite easily. I need to be more erratic. I need to catch whoever it is.”

  Blythe caught her sister’s arms and gave her a little shake. “What you need to do is protect your son, not chase after shadows. We must gain the upper hand. If you promise to keep to your routines with Edwin, I can be the erratic one. A headache here and there, a forgotten shawl to be fetched from upstairs. Any excuse to catch this criminal before they can cause you more distress.”

  Mercy clutched at Blythe’s fingers. “You could be hurt.”

  It already hurt to see Mercy so scared. Her sister had always been the strong one. “I’ll be fine. If you are truly worried, you could ask Leopold if I may have his small pistol to keep about me. I may never be able to shoot anyone, but it does make a remarkable amount of noise. Perhaps I can scare them away.”

  “You truly are a terrible shot.” Mercy shook her head. “I can’t. This is my problem. My responsibility is to look after the best interests of the duchy.”

  “You also need to be here for Edwin until he reaches his majority. Stay close to him. This is the best way to ensure that happens.”

  “What are you two debating?” Leopold Randall asked, his scowl fierce as he joined them.

  Before Blythe could answer, Tobias joined them. “I imagine the countess is telling her sister to stay close to the boy while she investigates the matter herself. She’s got that single-minded expression on her face again.” Tobias’ gaze fell on her and lingered. Blythe stared back.

  Leopold shook his head. “It is far too dangerous. She could be hurt.”

  “I don’t think mere words are going to change her mind,” Tobias said. “Give her your small pistol then for protection if you want to help.”

  “Not a chance of it,” Leopold spluttered.

  Blythe stood. “It is ill mannered to speak of someone when they are right before you and to believe they have no say in what you decide. Excuse me.”

  She didn’t really need a pistol for protection. She wasn’t that confident of her ability to actually shoot at a man, but she’d keep her sewing scissors about her at all times. Who knew when such an innocent thing could be used to her advantage? But they were back in the drawing room. She’d have to fetch them now. As she turned away, Tobias Randall called out to her to wait.

  Blythe kept walking. These Randall’s were bossy creatures. Go. Stay. Wait. Etcetera. She’d been looking out for Mercy’s interests for more years than she could count. She didn’t need a man to tell her what to do.

  Tobias Randall fell into step beside her, his breath a rough pant from the exertion of running to catch up with her. “We should pair up.”

  Blythe stopped. “I beg your pardon.” For a change, the pirate wasn’t grinning. There was no sly twist to his lips to hint at another meaning.

  “I think we should work together on the contents of the duke’s sanctuary to discover who is stalking Mercy,” he said.

  “The two are not connected.”

  “I’m not so sure. Someone wants your sister to flee. Gaining possession of the contents of the duke’s sanctuary could be reason enough.”

  Blythe considered the idea. But there was no evidence she could see to connect the two together. The journals and diaries she’d read were unimportant so far. The servants didn’t even know about the existence of the chamber as far as she could tell. Mercy had taken great pains to ensure that.

  She looked up at Tobias, intent on asking him to explain his theories further.

  “I fear the perpetrator of these acts is already at Romsey Abbey,” he said. “Nothing happened until today. And today both of us were in that chamber. Yes, it could be a coincidence, but it makes me suspicious.

  Blythe snapped her mouth closed. Insufferable bounder. Couldn’t he wait to let her ask her questions first before answering them? She spun on her heel and hurried for the drawing room as a disturbing thought occurred to her—she’d left the journal she’d been reading out on a side table where anyone could find it. She reached the terrace door and turned the handle. China rattled inside the housekeeper swept from the room carrying the tea tray.

  Blythe crossed the threshold as Wilcox turned back. “Do you require anything else, my lad
y?”

  “No, thank you. That will be all.”

  He hurried out and pulled the doors closed behind him. Blythe crossed the chamber, her eyes fixed on the side table. Had the book moved? She couldn’t tell.

  “Mine is still where I left it.” Tobias gestured toward the chair cushion he’d lifted, reading her mind again. His book had been better hidden than hers.

  Blythe hefted the book and checked for the scrap of paper she’d used as a bookmark. When it was still in place, she let out a relieved breath.

  Tobias drew closer. “You know, I’ve never liked that Wilcox. Not even when I was a boy.”

  Blythe shook her head. “Mercy trusts him, as does your brother.”

  Tobias took the book from her hands and laid it atop his. “And I can see you don’t.”

  Blythe scowled at his correct assumption. “He . . . seeks to rise above his position.”

  “Maybe it’s him? He’d have ample opportunity.”

  “Mercy and your brother will not believe that. We’d have to catch him in the act though to convince anyone.”

  Tobias stared past her to the closed door. “Exactly. We’ll catch him or whoever it is. Together.” His smile returned suddenly as his gaze shifted to her face. “In the meantime, let’s find out what’s so damned important in that room.”

  ~ * ~

  Tobias might be preoccupied with the task at hand, but he was all too aware of Blythe. She was troubled, cautious, and rather prickly to begin with, but there was something about this chamber that added new levels of tension to her bearing. He’d noticed it before, but as the door swung shut with a soft click behind him, her shoulders seemed to lift.

  Perhaps it was being in close confines with him that bothered her. He shrugged away the disappointment as he set their books aside. Sparing with Blythe could quickly become one of the highlights of his day. He found their conversations invigorating. Sadly, Blythe didn’t appear to feel the same about their interactions.

 

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