Forsaking the Prize

by Boyd, Heather

  He studied the shelves. “Which ones have you read?” He gestured to the wall of dusty volumes before them, keeping his voice low for fear of being overheard in the adjoining rooms.

  “Not many,” she replied softly. “I’ve been looking at the lower shelves, the ones within easy reach.” When she swallowed and curled her arms about herself, Tobias grew even more concerned. Something truly had upset her today. Perhaps it was the mess they’d viewed upstairs. But he’d thought, out on the lawn, that she was over the discomfort of that gruesome scene. She’d seemed full of glorious fire out on the lawn, but now those brief sparks were gone.

  “What’s the matter, B?”

  She shivered, eyes darting about the chamber; to the roof, door, and back to him. Her skin had paled, her eyes had widened. She stared at the door. “I don’t like this room. Mercy usually leaves the door open for me so I can get out again.”

  Tobias winced. Fear of blood and confined spaces. Blythe’s nerves were a mess. “I didn’t know that. But the door can be reopened at any time.” He slid his fingers around her upper arm and applied gentle pressure. “Would you like to step out again?”

  She nodded quickly. “I’ll get a book first and then read it in the other room.”

  A ragged exhalation left her mouth as she perused the shelves beside them. Tobias kept hold of her arm and when she picked up a book, he saw the tremble in her hands. He changed his grip, slid his arm about her waist and drew her against his chest. “You’re safe with me. You’re safe, B.”

  A vast shudder ran through her and he took the book from her unresisting grip and guided her toward the door. She needed to get out and now. The poor woman should have told him of her fear of confined spaces earlier. He felt something similar for carriages. He’d rather walk ten miles with sore feet than step into one.

  As he set his fingers to the lock, voices in the adjoining chamber stilled him. Damn and blast. Wilcox. Tobias held Blythe tighter against him, away from the mechanism, and set his eye to the peep hole.

  Not just Wilcox, but the housekeeper and two footmen and maids were giving the chamber a thorough clean. Tobias cursed under his breath. Where were Leopold and the duchess? They were trapped in here until they returned and shooed the servants away.

  He glanced down at Blythe. She still trembled with fear, her hands clutched at his arm about her waist. He leaned down so his lips were beside her ear. “Servants. We have to wait a bit.”

  She turned in his arms and gripped his waistcoat. A small moan escaped her lips and, worried that further sounds might be overheard, he shuffled them to the rear of the chamber. He had to calm Blythe down and fast.

  Tobias drew her tighter into his arms. She didn’t protest. He thought she may not even be aware of his actions. Her breathing grew ragged and she clutched at him. Very gently, Tobias lifted her chin and cupped her face with one hand. Her expression was usually so perfect and serene, but her eyes were swimming with panic. They couldn’t risk discovery so, desperate, he did the only thing he could think of.

  He set his lips to hers and kissed her.

  At first, she stilled like that moment in battle just before cannonballs smashed the ship apart as if they were made of paper and not wood. He brushed his lips against hers; fully aware that if she were in her right mind she’d clobber him with whatever fell to hand for taking such liberties. Her lips were soft, cool against his. She didn’t pull away or protest. Emboldened, he teased her mouth open and sealed his lips over hers.

  After a moment, her arms curled up around his neck and she kissed him back, tongue sliding into his mouth in an intimate dance. She’d forgotten to be scared. She’d forgotten to be proper. She’d forgotten everything except sensations and damned if Tobias didn’t feel the same. He brought his hands up her back and slid them down again. Devil take it, she felt good in his arms. Too good, as he’d suspected she would. Although tempted to take things further, he forced his hands to be still again.

  She moaned a little against his mouth and he tightened his grip at her waist. It might be the right thing to do, but Tobias didn’t want to stop kissing Blythe. She responded to him with extraordinary passion. But he had to stop. He’d kissed Blythe to calm her, to distract her from the sensation of being trapped. If he’d succeeded then he really should end this before it went too far.

  Reluctantly, he drew away. Their eyes met and a bright wash of color flooded her face. She backed up a step and then more until she leaned against the far wall of the chamber. Tobias remained still, uncertain what she would do next. Her hand rose to cover her flushed lips as she stared at him. Her eyes widened impossibly and then squeezed shut.

  He’d have to consider his distraction a success. Her gaze no longer darted about the chamber. Now, she couldn’t bear to look at anything.

  He picked a book at random from an upper shelf and settled against the edge of the table to read it. After a few moments of silence, Blythe followed suit, taking the chair beside him and flicking open to the first page. She didn’t appear inclined to berate him about that kiss, but she did seem a great deal calmer. He smiled. At least he could put his love of kissing to good use for a worthy cause. He’d be more than happy to kiss her again if the ideal situation arose.

  Eight

  If the world ended tomorrow, it couldn’t come soon enough. Blythe could not believe that she had just been kissed by Tobias Randall and that she’d actually enjoyed the exchange. She pressed her knees together, fighting her arousal. Where had her mind been?

  She stole a glance at the man beside her. Tobias appeared relaxed enough to lean against the table, flipping idly through his book. There was no trace of lust about him; he ignored her presence as if he hadn’t had his tongue in her mouth or his hands all over her body just moments before. Did he go around kissing women as if such an act meant nothing to him at all?

  To Blythe it was the ultimate betrayal of her wedding vows. The very first time she had wanted another man to keep kissing her instead of wishing for her husband, Raphael. She longed to run from what she’d just done, but the servants were still rattling around outside the doorway in the drawing room and she was trapped with Tobias Randall.

  Yet the sense of terror this room usually provoked had fled. And all because the pirate had kissed her witless. His warmth had filled her chilled soul until she’d forgotten everything except the feel of him against her body, his hands cradling her against his broad chest. She shook her head. What a mistake to have made.

  Tobias leaned toward her. “I’ll check and see if they are done.”

  His words were whispered, close against her ear, and goose flesh raced across her skin. A bad sign. A very bad condition to be in for a proper lady.

  With Tobias across the chamber peering through the peephole, she relaxed marginally and dropped her head into her hands. Stupid, ridiculous thing to have done. Tobias Randall wasn’t the kind of man who she should be affected by at all.

  She jumped as his hand settled on the back of her neck. Warmth radiated from his fingers as he brushed them over her nape, turning up the flames of her embarrassment. She was well aware that she had not once tried to end the kiss. His fingers kneaded her skin for a few moments and that was all it took for longing to return in full force. She fought to remain still and show no sign of her discomfort.

  His lips skimmed her ear. “Unfortunately, they are being very thorough with their duties today. I wonder what’s come over them.”

  She leaned into his touch, but then straightened her spine. What was she doing encouraging him to continue? She should be put him in his place and maintain a proper distance between them.

  Tobias crouched down beside the chair. Their eyes met and held. His appeared to glow in the half light. “When we get you out of here I will stand still for any punishments you’d care to inflict,” he whispered. “But until then don’t brush aside the comfort you need to remain calm in this place.”

  His fingertips brushed over her cheek; his gaze fell to her lips. B
lythe pressed them together lest she ask him to kiss her again. The corner of his mouth lifted as if he understood what her action meant. The pad of his thumb skimmed forward to the corner of her mouth. She parted her lips as need, unfamiliar and unwanted, flooded her again. She closed her eyes to block out the image of him sitting at her feet in wait of an invitation to another kiss.

  He was certainly willing. His breath roughened to a pant; his hand settled on her leg, but did not wander any higher. He was poised for more if she gave him one word of encouragement. Blythe kept herself rigidly in place.

  He was nothing like her late husband. Thinking of the life she’d shared with Raphael, the tenderness of the marriage bed, the symmetry of their thoughts, doused Blythe’s impossible attraction to Tobias Randall. She was Raphael’s widow.

  That was enough.

  Tobias withdrew his hands from her body and heaved a heavy sigh. When he stood without saying a word, Blythe missed his warmth immediately. But it was for the best. She shouldn’t encourage him when there was no possibility for more between them. She was not a loose woman and would never take a casual lover. She focused on the page before her, but her mind lingered on the comfort he’d given her. She must truly be mad to want Tobias Randall to touch her again. He was everything Raphael was not. Rude, unrefined, bold in expressing his desires for pleasure.

  After this, he would certainly expect more than kisses if they were alone. She’d have to keep her door locked and avoid him at all costs. Sadness filled her. She missed Raphael fiercely, but she was also angry with him for dying so soon. The best life had to offer had already passed her by. She hadn’t known what she’d had until he was gone and Tobias Randall had reminded her with one simple kiss.

  ~ * ~

  Tobias withdrew his eye from the peephole. Leopold and Mercy had returned; the servants were finally gone. He faced Blythe. She still refused to look at him and guilt trickled through him. She acted as if she’d never been kissed before, but that couldn’t be possible. No man married to her could resist those lips. Had she truly remained untouched since her husband’s death?

  He moved across the room slowly and crouched down beside her chair. “The servants are gone. Mercy and Leopold are seated in the drawing room.”

  A bright blush crossed her cheeks.

  He set his hand to the arm of the chair. “Find me later tonight. I’ll leave my door unlocked.”

  She jerked at his words. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted. Devil take it! He wanted to kiss her again, but all he would get tonight was a slap across the face for his behavior. Or would he? She had kissed him back quite enthusiastically. Her gaze dipped to his lips. He wet them and Blythe swallowed. Was she uncomfortable with his proximity or tempted by it? There was one certain way to tell.

  But, as he moved closer to kiss her again, Blythe jumped to her feet and hurried for the door. She manipulated the lock and pushed the door open. Bright light filled the room and blinded him as Blythe disappeared.

  Tobias hauled himself to his feet and picked up his book. No point following too closely on her heels. Blythe’s reaction confirmed what he should have known; he should stay away from proper ladies. They wanted wealthy lords not penniless lovers.

  When he returned to the drawing room, Leopold sat alone, reading a newssheet. “Find anything new?”

  “No nothing,” Tobias said quickly. Nothing, except a completely impossible desire to be exceptionally badly behaved around Blythe.

  Leopold grunted and dropped the paper. “The old bastard must be laughing at us as we scratch around for clues.”

  Tobias shook his head. “I doubt it. He didn’t know how to laugh.”

  The corners of Leopold’s lips lifted in an evil smile. “Very true.”

  Perhaps now would be a good time to speak to Leopold about the future. Tobias took the seat opposite. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you about the future. What do you intend to do about Harrowdale?”

  His brother’s expression grew wary at the mention of their childhood home. “Nothing, why?” The small estate was Leopold’s legal property, but Tobias had come to the conclusion that his brother would never live there.

  “I’ve given the matter considerable thought, and I’d like to live at Harrowdale.”

  Leopold stirred himself to sit at the edge of his chair. “I had hoped you would stay here a lot longer before you made any decisions about this sort of thing.”

  Tobias looked about him. “I don’t belong here amid all this finery. I want to go home.”

  “When?”

  “Not yet, not with Romsey still plagued by troubles, but I want the matter settled between us now before the wedding business raises its head and distracts you. It’s not so far away that we won’t see each other often.”

  Leopold cleared his throat. “I’d just gotten used to seeing you over breakfast.”

  Tobias smiled. “You’ll be a married man soon. I doubt you’ll regret missing me at breakfast if you can have your wife instead. Newlyweds will want privacy.”

  Leopold’s wry chuckle eased Tobias’ concerns. He’d picked the perfect time to ask.

  “Oh, all right. The house is yours to live in until you tire of living there alone. Then I want you to come back. I’ve not quite gotten enough of your company, but I do understand. We’ll work something out about the servants later.” His gaze grew sly. “Or is it you who needs the privacy. I know you said you had no interest in Miss Emma Trimble, but has another caught your eye?”

  “No. There is no one.” The only woman to tempt him was living under this roof. Leaving would spare him the frustration of wanting and Blythe the embarrassment of being chased.

  “A family of your own is just the thing for you,” Leopold said suddenly.

  Tobias shrugged. “Being born a Randall hasn’t done me any good. I’m not keen to inflict suffering on an offspring.”

  “Things are different now.”

  Tobias set his hands to his hips and glared at his brother. “Really. So there is no danger to be found here? None at all?”

  Leopold scowled. “You know full well what I mean. The old duke is gone and our side of the family will be safe once we find them.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I am sure of it.” Leopold picked up his paper. “Oh, and by the way, Lady Venables is leaving us today. Despite her promises to Mercy, she must have had the same need to get away from the wedding plans as you.”

  “What?” Devil take it! He hadn’t meant to scare her away. “Why? What did you say to her?”

  Leopold shook out the paper. “I said nothing. She had a letter just now, she said, and is returning to Walden Hall immediately.”

  Damn it. Leopold might not be worried about the situation, but Tobias was. Letter or not, he was likely to blame for Blythe’s hasty decision to leave Romsey Abbey. “What was the letter about?”

  Leopold’s shoulders lifted as he shrugged. “I have no idea. Lady Venables does not share the contents of her correspondence with me. She said she had to go and rushed out. She may have told Mercy.”

  Damn, Tobias hoped Blythe did not confide the details of that kiss to Mercy. Mercy would inform Leopold and then Tobias’ life expectancy would take a downward turn again. He should be used to that feeling, but after weeks at home, he’d become somewhat optimistic about his future. He was now certain he had a life worth hanging onto.

  He shoved his book under the cushion of the nearest chair and strode out into the entrance hall. Voices carried to him from the front stairs and he wrenched the door open just as an enclosed carriage drew to a halt.

  Blythe embraced her sister without a word and then climbed inside.

  Mercy leaned close to the carriage window to speak, but Tobias still heard. “Blythe, it may not be as bad as you fear. I’ll make him apologize if necessary.”

  Damn and blast, he had driven her away.

  “No, it will be worse. Walden Hall,” Blythe called to the driver. The carriage moved off and withi
n moments Blythe was gone without a backward glance.

  Mercy trudged up the stairs, her brows drawn together. “Foolishness,” she muttered. When she saw him, her frown grew.

  Tobias swallowed nervously. Maybe he could smooth the situation over before Leopold ever learned of his indiscretion and changed his mind about letting him live at Harrowdale. “Is there a problem?”

  “Yes, but it is nothing any of us can help with.” She smiled. “Were you looking for me?”

  Blythe hadn’t told her.

  “Ah, yes,” Tobias stuttered as he scrambled for something to account for his presence on the front steps. He’d come to speak with Blythe and reassure her that he wouldn’t impose on her, but he’d been too late to prevent her leaving. “I was curious about supper tonight. What time are we dining?”

  “Eight, as always. Why?”

  Eight would give him ample time to fix things with Blythe without Leopold being any the wiser. “Wonderful. I, ah, thought I might take a walk in the woods. Stretch my legs, that sort of thing.”

  Mercy tilted her head to the side. “I had a feeling that you were still uneasy about living here. Are we simply boring you instead, Tobias?”

  He laughed. Tobias did like her direct approach. “Having the freedom to come and go appeals to me. I am not a man to sit still for long. I need to expend some energy in the outdoors.” He leaned toward her. “And besides, Leopold may have a heart seizure if he catches me scaling the walls of the abbey again so I had better do something else instead. Walking the estate seemed an appropriately harmless exercise.”

  “He’s not alone in being terrified of your fearlessness,” Mercy grumbled. “It is a dangerous thing you do even if you say it is fun.”

  “I wouldn’t climb if I had any doubts I could get back down safely again.”

  Mercy poked her fingertip into his chest. “I will hold you to that, Tobias Randall. Where are you going to be strolling to? Leopold will want to know.”

  Tobias ducked back out of her reach and waved his arm in the direction of Harrowdale. “That way I think.”