Finch cleared away the dishes and plates. “My mistress has always had a choice. She attempts to protect her heart from every strong emotion, but cannot always manage it. It will take time to draw her out, but I’m sure you can win her.”
“Win her? Are you mad?”
“No, merely hopeful. I saw a different side of her the day she brought Adam’s things here. She was relaxed and even happy. I have not seen her smile so in years.”
Tobias eased into a chair and threw his hat onto the table. “Her grief for her husband is a loss she may never recover from.”
“You are correct that a woman does not recover from her first love easily. If you expect her to, then you will fail to win her heart. What you need to do is carve out a place beside her Raphael. Don’t strive to be him, be you?”
Tobias gaped. Clearly Finch had no idea how unsuitable he was. Blythe required so much more than he could provide. “I won’t be the one to win her.”
Finch clucked her tongue. “I think she is falling in love with you already, but just won’t admit it, not even to herself.”
Tobias rocked back in the chair. “You are a very strange, forward woman, Mrs. Finch.”
“Thank you, sir.” She clapped her hands together. “Can I get you something to eat? A big strapping fellow like you needs sustenance to woo a lady for his wife.”
Tobias rubbed his hand across his face. “What makes you think you don’t need to apply for the positions here, Finch? I could already have staff in mind.”
“Because you haven’t made any decision yet, or you would have staff here already.” She smiled. “Besides, you’re lingering at Romsey in the hope of asking my mistress what she’d prefer. A good decision, if you ask me. My lady likes everything just so and I’m sure you want her to be happy.”
Tobias reeled. What trouble had he gotten into? He couldn’t afford all these servants on the allowance Leopold had granted. Some of them would have to go. “There may be a problem with your plans.”
“Lack of funds?” The housekeeper’s brows lifted as she sagely guessed the heart of his problem. “Never fear, my mistress can pinch a penny along with the very best of them.”
Tobias gaped as a plate and teacup was set before him.
“There you are, sir,” Finch said brightly. “Eat up and then I’m sure you’d like to tour the house to see what’s been done in your absence. The bedchambers have been cleaned top to bottom and so has the dining room and sitting room. The door to what we feel is a book room is jammed, must be the damp, but we’ll have that fixed before you return with our lady.”
“The grounds are a harder task, grown so wild and tangled,” she continued. “But the kitchen garden has been cleared of weeds and your new gardener has done what he can. We might need a bit of aid from Romsey during the worst of winter, but we should be self-sufficient for the spring.”
Tobias put his head in his hands as the housekeeper prattled on.
~ * ~
Blythe blinked as bright light streamed in through the door of the duke’s sanctuary and then was cut off suddenly. Before she could adjust to the change, she was pulled up from her chair and crushed against Tobias’ chest. He nuzzled her cheek before he found her lips and devoured her with hot hungry kisses.
She reeled and clung to him, surprised and overjoyed to be in his arms again. She’d been regretting her decision to end things between them since the moment she’d uttered the words. His kisses slowed, and his tongue tangled with hers gently.
Blythe slipped her fingers into his hair and reveled in the wondrous sensations he evoked. The evidence of his arousal pressed against her belly, his hands kneaded her bottom.
When he drew back, a fierce ache had developed between her legs.
“I miss you,” he whispered against her neck. The rough scrape of stubble against her skin sent chills racing all over her. “Give me a second chance. I’m a patient man, I promise.”
Blythe’s eyes stung as she blinked back tears. She’d missed him, too, but she couldn’t be the type of woman he wanted. She opened her mouth to speak, but he kissed her again, so well she lost track of time.
“Think about me when I’m gone.” He slipped from her arms, grasped a book from the shelf, and vanished.
Her knees wobbled and she sank into a chair before she collapsed. The next time he came to her Blythe didn’t know if she could deny him.
~ * ~
“Dash it all, but Finch might just be right,” Tobias muttered under his breath as he suffered through Murphy’s endless fussing as he changed for dinner.
“Beg pardon, sir. But did you say something.”
“Nothing of importance, Murphy. I was just cursing the weather.”
“Perhaps you should have worn the great coat when you went out rather than suffer the damp.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He pivoted to stare at Murphy. “You know everything that happens in the district. When were you going to mention that Lady Venables staff had invaded Harrowdale?”
“Oh, tomorrow, sir. Probably. Most likely. They weren’t doing any harm.”
Tobias tugged on his cravat to loosen it a bit. “I thought Harrowdale on fire today. Imagine my surprise to find tea and seed cake on the kitchen table and a houseful of servants polishing the furniture.”
“Harrowdale will like to have the care and attention. Mrs. Finch keeps a good house. You could do a lot worse.”
Although he didn’t like to admit it, Murphy was likely right. Mrs. Finch had the makings of a quartermaster. He’d be so well organized he probably wouldn’t recognize himself. “Murphy, if any other matters come to light that might affect me, do be a good fellow and pass the news along. I don’t particularly care for surprises.”
Murphy held out his coat. “Your brother was all set to visit Harrowdale this afternoon when you didn’t return to eat with the family. I found something to distract him. Don’t imagine he’ll care for the other matter very much, but I thought it best to delay that surprise.”
“What other matter?”
“The rocking horse in your nursery, of course. Nice bit of wood carving in that.”
Tobias blood ran cold. “I’m holding onto it as a favor, nothing more.”
“Of course, sir. That’s exactly what I thought. No sense mentioning it if there’s no chance of the rocking horse and painted screen will remain there forever. I expect she’ll find somewhere nice soon to move it to.”
Tobias clenched his fist.
Murphy’s deep laugh filled the room. “Ah, so it may not be moving after all. Glad to hear it.”
“Murphy, you are pushing my patience,” Tobias growled.
“Yes, sir. I know, sir. But at least my intentions are honorable.”
Tobias rolled his shoulders, settling his coat around him. “I never said mine were not.”
Murphy’s eyebrows rose. “Well, well, well. Ain’t that a surprise and a half? My lips are sealed, Mr. Randall. They are sealed and locked tight as a drum until the happy announcement is made.”
Tobias scowled until Murphy left. When he was alone, he flopped down on the bed. Was he really going to forget all about Miss Trimble’s four thousand pounds and pursue Blythe instead?
There was no guarantee Blythe wouldn’t laugh at the idea. Despite the hope in his heart, he buried it deep. He’d previously set a cautious course with Blythe and he saw no reason to change that strategy. The prize he was after was worth the discomfort of the wait. He had her trust and perhaps her friendship. What he wanted was what remained of her heart. He’d treasure her till his last breath.
Twenty Three
In the week since Tobias’ last kiss they had worked side by side combing through the old duke’s sanctuary. What they had found was precisely nothing, despite the late hours they had both spent poring over old journals. Despite her presumption that she was about to engage in an affair with Tobias, he had not kissed her again or even held her hand.
He was, however, becoming an entertaini
ng companion. He’d begun to share details of his past in small snippets when they were alone, and occasionally mentioned the uncomfortable parts of his history. After what she’d heard, she had come to hate the old duke of Romsey for the pain and suffering he had inflicted.
But if there was one thing Blythe had learned, it was that the old duke of Romsey gave his enemies what they feared most. She set her cup down and listened to yet another verbal skirmish develop between Tobias and Leopold. Leopold valued his siblings above all else and they’d been separated, ripped apart with only the duke’s flimsy promise that his family lived. The cruelty of his actions struck Blythe more forcefully the longer she knew her sister’s future husband. Leopold thrived on family and living up to his responsibilities to them.
And Tobias. Damaged. Flawed in so many ways. Determined. A boy thrown to the wild sea to fend for himself. What had he feared that the duke might have punished him with? His fear of carriages stemmed from the murder of his parents so that couldn’t be it.
“When were you going to call on Miss Trimble again, Tobias?” Leopold asked suddenly. “It’s been a few days now.”
Tobias’ gaze flickered in her direction. “I hadn’t made up my mind to go again.”
“Distance doesn’t make the heart fonder,” Leopold murmured. “Strike while the irons hot.”
Blythe’s heart raced. Was the reason for Tobias’ withdrawal because he had been secretly courting Emma? Stunned, she sat still and tried to hide how the news upset her. He couldn’t kiss her if he married her friend. To do so would be scandalous and utterly reprehensible. She jumped to her feet, chair scraping the floor loudly.
Mercy, half bent over young Edwin, eyeing her with concern. “Blythe, is everything well?”
Blythe nodded. “Just thinking an idea through. Excuse me.” She forced a smile to her lips, stepped around the quarrelling Randall brothers, and hurried for the privacy of the drawing room. She closed the doors behind her, but rather than enter the book room immediately, she paced. She must be mad to be upset over a mere suspicion. Tobias Randall was free to pursue anyone he liked. There was nothing binding them together, no promise to keep or break. Nothing but a request for another chance. At the time, she had not answered.
Clearly he was not patient enough.
She had made the mistake of falling for his kisses and teasing smiles. She wished she had known he had intentions toward Emma sooner. She clasped her hands together and tried her best to be sensible. She loved Raphael. She truly did. It was just growing harder to remember things about him when she couldn’t get Tobias out of her thoughts. What would happen when Raphael was nothing more than a dim memory to haunt her sleepless nights?
Blythe forced her breathing to slow. Nothing had changed. She was Raphael’s widow and intent on solving the riddle of Oliver and Rosemary Randall’s disappearance.
Calm again, she stared at the duke’s portrait across the room, focusing on her earlier train of thought. The duke had appeared to be an intelligent man, a man who thought he was cleverer than those around him, too. What could he have done with Oliver and Rosemary? What would Tobias’ siblings have feared most?
“Penny for your thoughts, B.” Tobias stood a few feet away, watching her closely.
Her breath caught in her throat. She collected herself quickly, burying her disappointment in him at courting her friend behind her back. “Tell me about your sister and brother. What were they like?”
“Rosemary didn’t like being left behind when we went fishing. She didn’t like behaving as a lady, but mother was remarkably good at keeping her at home.”
“Your parents sheltered her from unpleasantness?”
He scrubbed his jaw. “I wouldn’t say that. She wasn’t naïve by any stretch of the imagination. People always said she’d come to a bad end if she didn’t behave with more decorum. I suppose they were right. She did try to fight her abductor.”
Blythe thought that through. If Rosemary was wise to the ways of the world she would have feared a future in which she had no voice. An unacceptable marriage, slavery of her body for men’s pleasure, and to live in poverty could have been what she feared most. If she had been raised a lady, but chafed at the restrictions required of that life, what would she have done to save herself? If she was free but poor, she’d likely find a way to make the situation better. If she was confined in a terrible situation, what might Rosemary do to escape it?
Oliver Randall, too, was a mystery to her. “What of Oliver?”
He frowned. “Most would describe my brother as cold fish.”
“Oh, how so?”
Tobias leaned against a table. “Oliver may have been a genius, but he wasn’t particularly friendly. When he wasn’t in school, getting him from his bedchamber at Harrowdale was something of a feat. He didn’t enjoy socializing, preferring his books to conversing with people. When he did speak, it was mostly in the form of a lecture and he often used mathematical terms that confused people.”
“Did he have friends here?”
Tobias nodded. “A few put up with his lengthy silences. Murphy was one. Oliver never seemed to notice the passage of time when he was absorbed in his studies. Mother frequently resorted to blackmail to get him to eat.”
Blythe’s pulse raced. Could Tobias already have the clue she needed? “What sort of blackmail?”
“She would invite Beth to visit.”
“Beth Turner? But why would that make a difference.”
“She was Beth Gallagher once.” Tobias stood and touched her cheek. “Before her death, my mother was trying to engineer a match between Oliver and Beth. Oliver was Beth’s first love you see.”
“But I thought she was your good friend.” Blythe’s mind reeled. “Why did your mother not succeed?”
“Beth has always been a favorite with me.” Tobias cupped her face. “But as to why Beth never married him, I cannot imagine. Beth had married Turner before my parents were murdered. Given my brother’s nature, I’m not even sure he noticed she stopped coming to the house.”
The picture Tobias painted was of a considerably eccentric young man. Her eyes filled with tears. “Poor woman. I had no idea.”
“And she would like it kept quiet. Leopold, by the way, knows none of this.”
“Of course, of course.” Blythe rubbed her hands together, suddenly chilled to the bone. “I would never say anything to cause her distress.”
“I know you won’t.” He smiled down upon her and smoothed her hair away from her cheek. “You are a kind woman.”
Blythe’s stomach did a little tumble, but she buried the sensations quickly. She had no time for his flirtations right now. She was sure she was onto something.
A genius, Tobias called Oliver. In her experience, most men prone to be studious had an even temperament. Would he have fought the duke’s plans and attempted to free himself?
Blythe closed her eyes and tried to picture such a man in society. He would be talked of, gossiped over. He was different from most men she knew. A fission of disquiet rushed through her body. Being different, odd, eccentric, made one a pariah in their society. Those whose actions were too odd were avoided or worse, hidden from sight.
Blythe rocked back on her heels as an appalling idea took shape. Where else to hide an unfriendly genius than within a house for the mad? No one would pay attention to his protests. He’d be just one of any number of eccentric minds not suited for the real world. His origins would be forgotten like the many paintings of Romsey Abbey.
Her heart stopped.
The paintings!
Blythe spun about and stared at the walls. Her gaze fixed on the portrait of the duke, and then she looked at the wall directly opposite. Of the five paintings hung, one was of a storm tossed ship, two were of country houses, and the remaining two—a market square in a foreign land and horses milling before a stable.
She approached the painting of the ship tossed at sea. The sailors aboard the vessel appeared in grave peril. She curled her hands
into fists as she spied one small figure clinging to the uppermost masthead as it toppled toward the churning ocean. “What did you fear most when you were a child, Tobias?”
“Nothing much, but I did almost drown once.”
She moved on to the next painting quickly. It was unremarkable. Plain even. A tidy country house with a spotted dog trotting across the front lawn toward the distant trees. She didn’t recognize the property. She moved on to the next. The market place scene featured what looked to be an Englishman bartering with a brown skinned peddler. Leopold?
She glanced back at the ship. Was that small desperate figure supposed to be Tobias? Or was it what the duke hoped would be his fate one day. She stepped back from the wall and looked up.
Tobias came to stand close behind her and she could feel his heat radiating against her back. “What has you so fascinated, B?”
“Did you have trouble going into the water again? I’ve heard many do.”
“Yes. For a time.”
Blythe spun around. “I’ve always thought these paintings were an odd choice for a duke’s drawing room. They face his portrait and the chair he used to sit in most often. Mercy hasn’t changed the arrangement of the seats or anything else since he died so these scenes were hung here at his order.”
Tobias caught her hand in his. “I’ve given up trying to fathom that man. I suggest you do, too. He’s not worth the headache his actions bring on.”
“I think we’ve been looking in the wrong place.” Blythe pointed to the man clinging to the ship’s rigging. “You.” She gestured to the market place scene. “Leopold.”
Tobias squinted at both. When he drew back, his jaw was clenched. Blythe shifted to another painting; a large squat building set in featureless grounds. However the scene was too high for her to view easily. She looked about, spied a sturdy looking chair and dragged it across the chamber. As she lifted her skirts higher and put her foot upon the padded seat, Tobias grabbed her ankle and held her in place. “I could have just lifted the painting down if you wanted a better view.”
Forsaking the Prize Page 20