Forsaking the Prize

by Boyd, Heather

  He had? “But why?”

  He looked at her as if she were mad to question the decision. “We both know I do not belong as part of the duchess’ circle. Moving to Harrowdale keeps me close enough to see my brother often, but far enough away not to be a daily embarrassment. You of all people should be happy about that.”

  Well, she didn’t know if happy was the correct word, but his presence at Romsey Abbey, and their recent interactions, had caused her some distress. “You will cause a stir if you cannot keep your every thought from tumbling from your mouth.”

  Tobias laughed at her observation. “Exactly. I have no wish to cause problems for anyone. I should like to live here again.” His arm lifted to point ahead.

  Blythe shifted her attention as the wagon rolled through the stream and started up the curve of a long hill. In the distance, she could see a chimney and spire of a tall building perched on the other side of the rise. There was an untamed beauty about the landscape that reminded her very much of the man walking beside her. Tobias Randall belonged here amid the lush woods rather than stuck inside Romsey. Watching him prowl the abbey was akin to watching a trapped animal with no hope of escape.

  “Devil take it,” Tobias cursed suddenly.

  Blythe jumped and looked about her. What had happened while she’d been day dreaming? “Whatever is the matter now?”

  He scowled at her, and gestured to the empty lane. “Your groom didn’t stop at the crossing to wait for you.”

  “Oh, was that all?” She winced. “I did tell him I would walk the rest of the way.”

  Tobias shook his head. “Do you realize I’m going to have to carry you across the damn stream?”

  Oh, heavens. That likelihood had not occurred to her. There was a shallow crossing she remembered belatedly. Last time she passed this way on horseback, it had been ankle deep and hadn’t caused any concern for her mount. Surely, it should only take a moment to help her across. If anyone was nearby, they would understand he was merely being gallant. She glanced about nervously, but they were completely alone now. Only the distant song of a thrush kept them company.

  Tobias stopped at the edge of the water, his hands on his hips. Blythe joined him with a sinking heart. The stream was running perhaps as high as her knees this time, but much more swiftly. She didn’t care for the idea of walking the rest of the way to Harrowdale in damp shoes and heavy wet skirts so she may have no choice but to allow him to carry her across.

  She knelt to test the temperature of the water with one hand. Cold. She flicked the water from her fingertips as she stood again. “I do hate to inconvenience you.”

  Tobias wrapped his hand around her upper arm and tugged. “Come here, B.”

  Blythe had just enough time to gasp as Tobias hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of produce. “What are you doing? Put me down.”

  “Keeping you dry. It’s deeper than it looks.” He slapped his hand over her thighs to hold her steady, and waded across the stream while she seethed. Water churned around his legs, higher than Blythe had anticipated. She clung to his back when he wobbled on a rock, but eventually they reached the other side without either of them being pitched into the cold stream.

  When Tobias dumped her on her feet again, she reached for him, suddenly unsteady after being flung about so roughly. He caught her fast against his side while she caught her breath. She’d not like to travel in such a fashion ever again. She’d make sure to stay on the wagon for the return trip to Walden Hall.

  “Your housekeeper makes for a lousy chaperone. You’re in my arms again.”

  Blythe licked her lips, her pulse pounded in her ears at the huskiness of his voice. “I’ve not needed a chaperone since before I married.”

  His breath tickled her ear. “Have you never even been courted since your husband’s death? I’d have thought the fellows in these parts would be a dozen deep in your drawing room.”

  She shook her head, astonished that Tobias thought she could incite such behavior. “The gentlemen of my acquaintance have kept a respectful distance. Venables was well liked. None would dare approach me while I’m in mourning.”

  “Fools. Has no one even tried to steal a kiss since he passed?”

  His hand slid around her back, and she turned in his arms. “No, no one.” She set her hands to his chest, holding him at bay even when she wasn’t sure she could. No one treated her as Tobias Randall did and her body was betraying her sense of self preservation.

  “Hmm.” Tobias caressed her back in a slow brush. “I imagine the frost can be off-putting to a weaker willed man. They didn’t know what they missed.”

  Blythe looked up just as Tobias stepped away. She rocked forward, stunned by the loss of his attention and touch. She’d been so sure he was about to kiss her. Her heart hammered, disappointment made her cheeks burn hot.

  Tobias leaned against a tree and struggled to free himself of one boot. It landed with a wet slosh on the grass and he tipped the water out and shook it. “Damn things will chafe and hobble me if I walk in them wet. Forgive me, B, I’ve no choice but to be ungentlemanly and take them off here and now. At least we’re on Randall property and no one but you and your servants should see my latest indiscretion.”

  Blythe struggled to catch her breath while he stripped himself of his remaining footwear. For a moment, a very long tempting moment, she had wanted Tobias to kiss her as he had that morning. She fought to bury her feeling of disappointment. He was all wrong for her. Blunt, crude and filled to overflowing with lust. She closed her eyes. Yet he was the only man she wanted to kiss since her husband. That shocked her completely.

  Perhaps she truly had lost her mind.

  ~ * ~

  Tobias wriggled his toes, glad to be free of the confining boots. He still hadn’t become used to the new footwear and wearing them wet was worse than wearing nothing at all. He ran his hand over the rough scars on his right ankle and grimaced. Hopefully, Blythe and her housekeeper would not notice them and become distressed. He did not want pity for the life he’d previously suffered through. Leopold’s anxiety over his treatment had been bad enough.

  He picked up his footwear and shook the water from them. Murphy would not be pleased with their condition. He hoped the fine boots were not ruined.

  Blythe turned when he cleared his throat, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Likely he’d overstepped again by almost kissing her. But at least he hadn’t acted on the impulse this time. “The house is this way,” he said, gesturing up the drive.

  Blythe nodded and hurried ahead. It was her way, he’d discovered, to run from awkward situations, at least at first. When she’d worked out how to react, he’d undoubtedly be subjected to a lecture. And he’d deserve it, too. He was still waiting for her tirade over this morning’s kiss.

  As he trudged after her, he marveled at his predicament. Despite Leopold’s lectures on propriety and gentlemanly behavior, he was not having much luck in avoiding situations where he and Blythe were alone. He was honestly attempting to be a gentleman where she was concerned. He did not want to cause her further distress. From what he saw, she’d had more than enough sorrow to last her a lifetime. He had not intentionally sought her out aside from his first night as a guest at Romsey. How strange that the woman who should despise him turned out to be the one person he was unwittingly drawn to.

  The drive up to the house was rutted in places so he lengthened his stride to reach her. She’d lifted her skirts with both hands showing her sturdy, sensible half boots and shapely calves concealed by thick stockings. So prim and off-putting. He couldn’t help but be intrigued by her. Her kisses were passionate, her behavior quite the opposite. She was the most confusing woman he’d ever met.

  He slipped his hand beneath her elbow to steady her on the uneven ground. When he glanced at her face, her lips were set in a firm line as if she was holding back from blistering his ears. Oh, well. A proper scolding was long overdue. He wished she would get it over and done with. He didn’t like to wait
for unpleasantness.

  When they reached the top of the rise, he dropped his hand. “Here we are.”

  Harrowdale waited silently before them. Its windows shuttered, vines creeping up the walls to the uppermost floors, leaves lying in a thick carpet where they’d fallen around the footings. His home had never been so quiet in his youth. There had always been someone calling out, someone tending the gardens, someone waiting to welcome him back. The emptiness made him uneasy.

  “Oh,” Blythe whispered. “It’s lovely.”

  He shrugged. “It is home. I’ll go assist your groom with the unloading.”

  He left her and headed for the wagon waiting at the rear. When he neared, he tossed his boots into a patch of sunlit gravel in the courtyard. They’d dry eventually, but he could count on Murphy having a few words to say about the additional work. Another matter, another scolding, that couldn’t be helped.

  As he untied the ropes holding the rocking horse in place, he scanned the rear of the building. The house appeared exactly as he’d left it several weeks ago; neglected and overgrown. In time, he’d make the place the way he remembered. He’d be happy to have something useful to do with his days instead of snooping through the Duke of Romsey’s papers in search of clues. But he did want to find Rosemary and Oliver before he established his own household here. He still had plenty of time.

  The housekeeper approached, smiling as if she’d just been given an extra holiday. “If you’ll be so good to give me the key, Mr. Randall, I’ll open the house.”

  “No key. But I’ll open the house momentarily.” He lifted Blythe’s precious rocking horse down carefully and gave it a little push. The horse rocked to and fro smoothly. Any child would have adored it.

  He laid his hand on the rocking horse’s head, halting its progress as Blythe approached. Her gaze was clouded and sad again, and he cursed his foolishness. Grief was never far from her mind. He shouldn’t do anything to remind her of her loss.

  He stretched out his hand as he passed her. Their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of awareness through him. He wanted her. Foolish as that wish might be, he wanted her in his bed. He wanted to see her happy. Another foolish wish. He was always doing something to upset her. He should leave well enough alone.

  He stretched to reach the first handhold high up the eastern wall of Harrowdale.

  Blythe tugged on his coat, preventing his ascent. “What are you doing, Tobias?”

  He looked over his shoulder in surprise. She’d not used his given name before. He’d expected she never would. However, there was no friendliness in her expression. Her brows had drawn together. Was she afraid for him? He eased her grip from his coat tails. “Don’t worry, my lady. I’ve managed this feat many a time.”

  “But you were a boy then?”

  He shook his head. “There’s no danger. I’ve done this since my return. Where do you think I lived before we met in the flesh? I lived here, not in the woods like a wild beast.”

  “I never implied any such thing.”

  “No, you didn’t have to. Step back now.”

  When she retreated a few steps, he set his toe to the first depression in the stone wall and climbed up to the second floor window easily, much more easily than he’d done as a boy. He hooked his fingers into the small gap under the sash window and hoisted it up. Cold air covered his skin as he threw his leg over the sill and then squeezed himself through the narrow opening. He might be getting a touch too big for that particular window, but it was the only one with a faulty latch.

  He glanced down. Blythe had covered her mouth with her hands, eyes wide with fear. He waved to show he was fine and then padded through the silent house, down the creaking staircase, and through to the rear kitchen door where she waited. He jiggled the door until the bolt slid free of its casing and then opened it wide.

  Blythe’s expression was severe. “I think that is enough climbing, Mr. Randall.” She set her hands to her hips. “I should not like to see you do that again as long as I live so please do use a key next time.”

  “My heart’s beating ever so fast,” the housekeeper gushed. “Tis too dangerous.”

  He grinned at their fears. “Nonsense. I find the activity exhilarating.” If they had seen him hanging from the rigging of the whaler in a frigid gale then they’d have something to be terrified of.

  “Well, I think it’s the stupidest thing,” the groom muttered. He lifted his hand, twirled a key between his fingers, and then handed it over.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Where was that?”

  He pointed to a garden bed where a rock had been overturned before doffing his hat and returning to the wagon to begin the unloading without him. “Well, that’s a happy surprise. No more climbing.” Tobias swept his hand toward the interior. “Ladies, welcome to Harrowdale. Mind the dust doesn’t make you sneeze. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of it.”

  The housekeeper stepped over the threshold, plucked the key from his fingers, and peered about. She sniffed the air and then sneezed. “The place needs a woman’s touch and a good airing,” she said as she wiped her eyes.

  “It does,” he agreed. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the empty chamber you can use.”

  Without waiting, Tobias hurried up the narrow staircase and gestured down the hall. He directed the housekeeper toward the old empty chamber, once Harrowdale’s nursery, and left her there.

  When he returned downstairs, Blythe was peeking into the rooms on the lower floor. She stopped next to one of the chairs he’d uncovered. The rose pink tapestry had faded with time and the light from the adjacent window, but the design was still clear enough to be pretty. Uncovering his mother’s favorite chair had been a particularly hard task and even now his throat worked to choke him.

  Blythe set her hand to the material, eyebrow raised in query.

  “My mother used to watch for our return from that spot. I should help your man with the unloading. Excuse me.” Tobias hurried away before he blubbered like the boy he had been on his first night away from home and family. He hadn’t time now for embarrassing sentimentality.

  Together, he and the groom unloaded the wagon, carting Blythe’s possessions upstairs, but he rarely caught sight of her again. He didn’t mind her exploring his home or avoiding him. If she satisfied her curiosity without asking him questions, he would feel all the better for it.

  When the last of the bundles were deposited upstairs, the housekeeper waved him out of the overflowing chamber. “I brought a bite to eat. Would you care for it inside or out, sir?”

  Tobias frowned. “Out, I think, to avoid the dust.”

  She nodded and handed him a blanket. “I’ll come and find you when it’s done. Can you send the groom to me? I’ll need some help with the fire and such to get the tea ready.”

  “Surely tea is unnecessary. Shouldn’t Lady Venables be getting back to Walden Hall to complete her preparations?”

  “Oh, no, no, no. Everything is done now for his lordships arrival. It was just Master Adam’s things to take care of. Now that is all done, she’ll be wanting a nice cup of tea to relax with. These visits of his do put her in a queer mood. Not that I blame her.”

  Tobias leaned against the wall, intrigued by the housekeeper’s remark. “Is Lord Venables really so difficult?”

  The housekeeper nodded. “He’s particularly bossy, nothing like his father. He’s always asking her to account for her spending, the time she visits with her sister, and away from Walden Hall.” Her lips pressed together guiltily at her gossiping and then she bustled past him and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Well, at least that confirmed why Blythe rushed off today. She’d want to have her affairs in order and be as prepared as possible before such a man arrived. He couldn’t imagine a woman of her caliber enjoying an interrogation of how she lived her life. Perhaps she wasn’t too mad about the kiss after all. Maybe she hadn’t given the matter another thought as indeed she’d claimed.

  His chest tightened. A pity
. He couldn’t get their kiss out of his mind. Could he have kissed her at the stream without her protesting? He grinned; maybe fate would give him another chance to find out.

  He wandered from the house, sent the groom inside to the kitchen then crossed the courtyard to check on his boots. Far too wet to wear yet and his stockings were still damp. He spread them out again and then headed for a protected spot to spread the blanket.

  Seeing servants at Harrowdale made his heart race as memories of his childhood rose restlessly. There had been a gardener then, too. An old man, deeply attached to Harrowdale’s fruit trees and flower beds. Three maids, a butler, and two stable hands for their two horses and the old grey pony he’d learned to ride on.

  His father had been fortunate to have had ample means to support the property and his family, but they hadn’t been wealthy by any stretch of the imagination.

  Tobias set his arms on the top of his raised knees. He’d been happy then, and painfully ignorant of the dangerous undercurrent of hostility emanating from the Duke of Romsey. He knew now how fortunate he’d been back then. At least then, someone had cared where he was, what he’d eaten that day, and whether he’d slept well that night. Those small reminders that he’d been loved unconditionally once rose to choke him. He lowered his head to his arms and fought the urge to weep over his lost innocence.

  Light footsteps approached, but he didn’t raise his head. He couldn’t. Not until he was in control of his emotions better. The long skirts of Blythe’s dark blue gown brushed across his bare feet as she adjusted the blanket. When she sat, she was close enough for him to see her hand where it lay in her lap.

  “You have a wonderful home. So peaceful.”

  He didn’t answer her. His home had once been a noisy affair. The silence unnerved him.

  Blythe sighed. “Thank you for allowing me to use your home, Tobias. You are a very generous man.”

  He lifted his head. Blythe stared at the house, her expression relaxed but weary. He much preferred her smiling. He lifted his hand to brush his fingers across her cheek. “Please don’t let that information be passed around or else I’ll be overrun by ladies with questionable relatives.”