Miss Trimble wiped her hands over her cheeks. “Oh, not since she was widowed. Oh,” the girl whispered as realization dawned.
Blythe had been a spectator on the sidelines for years and in Tobias’ opinion it was about time she had a little harmless fun. “Exactly. She is finally enjoying herself as she hasn’t since her husband died. Try to be a little understanding and happy for her. Imagine what standing on the sidelines for a few years might feel like and then decide if you should be crying over her success. Until our dance, Miss Trimble.”
He moved down a few steps.
“Sir, wait.”
He paused. “Yes, Miss Trimble.”
“Thank you. You’ve made me feel so much better about tonight.”
Tobias nodded and returned to the ballroom, his gaze drawn to Blythe as she twirled about the dance floor. He did like to see her happy. He craved her smiles. But as he looked around he spied those two gentlemen, and he used the term loosely, watching Blythe with predatory smiles.
As Blythe was led from the dance floor, flushed and smiling, he smoothly rejoined their party to keep the wolves at bay. Blythe shifted to stand at his side.
He glanced down at her as she fanned herself. Her breasts rose and fell beneath her gown in the most beguiling way. Her other gowns had much higher necklines and he’d been deprived the excellent view until now. He hoped he could survive the set without gawking and embarrassing them both.
A footman came closer and Tobias secured a glass of punch for Blythe before the wolves descended to do the same.
Her gaze rose to meet his. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome, B.”
Blythe leaned closer. “You haven’t asked anyone to dance yet,” she whispered. “I strongly recommend you do. There are many young ladies of good family who will be happy to accept you as a partner.”
Tobias wrenched his gaze from the smooth curve of her right breast. “Lady Venables, do you perhaps remember our conversation of last night? I don’t need you to make a match for me, too.”
“Of course I remember. I said dance not propose marriage to them.” Her fan fluttered faster while she looked over the crowd around them. On the surface, Blythe appeared remote, serene even. He just happened to know she kissed like a bad man’s fantasy.
“Well, I’m not keen on having anyone but you in my arms so leave it be,” he murmured.
Her eyes widened, kissable lips parted in surprise. Did she really think other women were more alluring? He wanted to kiss her here and now and damn the consequences. The only thing that stopped him was his determination not to make an arse of himself and embarrass her.
A new dance partner appeared and swept Blythe off for another dance.
Mercy moved to his side and clutched his arm. “Isn’t it a wonderful evening, Mr. Randall?”
He offered her a fraudulent smile. “It is, Your Grace.”
Mercy sighed happily as she clapped in time with the music. “I’m so glad for Blythe. She deserves a bit of fun after all she’s been through. One day, the right man will turn her head and she’ll be the happiest woman in England. Well, after me of course.”
She turned back to converse with Leopold with a laugh, and Tobias cursed under his breath. Three sets seemed an eternity before he could have Blythe in his arms again. Letting her go again, he feared, would be problematic. She was to dance with Lord Archibald before his set and Tobias had the distinct feeling that the earl had something else besides dancing with Blythe on his mind. Some lucky, wealthy bastard would win her.
He headed for the card room so he didn’t have to witness the start of a proper courtship.
~ * ~
It may not seem that way to others, but Blythe was fairly certain that Tobias was well on the way to being foxed. He was polite to everyone he met, but his eyes had a glazed look about them. She executed a turn, linked hands with Lord Archibald, and then continued on. She’d never danced so much in one evening and she was looking forward to her set with Tobias and a quiet supper with him.
He had some explaining to do, too.
She clapped as the dance ended, and walked from the floor at Lord Archibald’s side. His behavior while they danced had increased her anxiety. “You dance like an angel,” he said.
Blythe hoped it was a terrible misunderstanding on her part, but he gave her every indication that he was flirting with her. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Archibald had spoken of his estate, of how pleased he was that she got along with his sisters; he spoke of the future, hinting at how happy he would be then. At no time had he mentioned Emma in his plans. It was as if she didn’t exist to him. Emma would be crushed.
The next set was announced, a waltz, and she looked for Tobias. He was watching her, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth. Oh dear. Did he not know the steps? She hadn’t thought to inquire about that particular dance before she accepted his request.
After a moment’s hesitation, he crossed to her side, and led her out onto the floor. He pulled her into his arms as people craned to see who danced together. His touch took her breath away and she tightened her grip on his hand as panic assailed her. She didn’t want him to fail at this. “Can you waltz, Tobias?”
His smile was brief. “We’re about to find out, aren’t we?”
That didn’t sound terribly promising. When they moved off, Blythe held her breath. Tobias’ movements were not the smooth steps she’d grown accustomed to from her partners, but he wasn’t terrible. As she let her tension drain away, their movements fell into a beautiful symmetry. They could dance together. She just needed to relax and trust him.
She spun in his arms, content and stirred by the music.
“Careful, B. You’ll have everyone whispering.”
She looked up. “Why?”
“Because you are smiling.”
“I’m enjoying my evening, Mr. Randall.”
He drew her closer; still respectable, but near enough to make her heart skip a beat. “You didn’t smile so brightly for your other swains.”
She frowned. “I don’t have swains.”
“Would you prefer it if I said suitors?”
Blythe glanced about her nervously. “You’ve come to the wrong conclusion. Regardless of my attire this evening, I’m not interested in marrying again. I love my husband.”
Tobias laughed bitterly. “I am well aware of that. The late Lord Venables must have been quite a man. However, it appears that every gentleman you’ve spoken to tonight considers himself in the running to win you. One way or the other.”
That didn’t sound so good. “What do you mean by one way or the other?”
“Honorably or dishonorably.”
Blythe blanched. A bitter taste filled her mouth. “How much did you wager on having me?”
“Nothing. It isn’t a fair bet.”
She scowled at his answer. He sounded sure of himself. “Do you think you’ve already won?”
The dance came to an end and they stopped. Tobias raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m sure, given the exalted gentlemen after you, that I’d lose.” He smiled suddenly. “But that isn’t the whole reason. I might have been polished till I shine as bright as a new penny, but we both know what kind of man lies beneath the finery. Shall we go in to supper, my lady? You appear done in.”
Eighteen
Tobias had not lied when he’d told Blythe he’d lose any wager made about getting her into bed. As the evening progressed, he’d observed the fellows Blythe danced with. Most were landed peers, wealthy and influential. She’d be a fool to fall into his bed if she had a chance to snare one of them for a husband.
However, Blythe’s mention of her abiding love for her husband had soothed him somewhat. The dashing, late Lord Venables was much admired and talked of and Blythe loved him still. Any man worthy of her hand had to convince her to set that love aside and start afresh.
That man wouldn’t be him.
He held her ch
air as she sat and then fetched a plate of supper and a cup of tea. When he returned to the table, Blythe pounced on him. “What happened in the carriage?”
His heart, previously slow and steady in its beating, lurched. Damn her for bringing his anxiety up now. He shook his head.
Blythe leaned forward. “Tell me now, quickly,” she whispered. Her foot touched his and tapped against the leather of his boot under the table.
“I learned the hard way to dislike carriages,” he managed to growl out.
“But why?” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh. Oh dear. I’m so sorry for bringing it up again tonight. I never thought.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. Her foot pressed harder against his boot. Mercy and Leopold joined them, giving Tobias the chance to escape. He stood. “I find I’m not hungry after all, Lady Venables. Do you forgive me if I abandon you? I need some air.”
He didn’t wait for her answer. He had to get as far away from the memories as he could. He threaded his way through the crowd and reached the relative safety of the terrace. A few people had gathered at the head of the staircase leading to the gardens, but they were far enough away not to bother him. He leaned his hip against the balustrade and folded his arms across his chest.
He should not have deserted Blythe like that, but she should not have asked for the cause of his panic when she did. He’d just started to forget the unpleasant beginning of his evening.
He raked his fingers through his hair, striving to think of something better. Blythe. Damned if he could forget the sweet taste of her lips. He wanted more and he couldn’t have more. She was destined for someone else.
Frustrated by his fixation on her, he reentered the ballroom by the side door and a woman standing on the edge of the crowd caught his eye. Smooth auburn hair, smoky-dark bedroom eyes. She fluttered her fan restlessly, inviting him for more than just conversation. She wasn’t anything like Blythe and he was sorely tempted by her.
He circled the room, picked up a glass of punch from a footman and approached the woman. Her lips lifted in a merry smile, but then she turned her back on him and left the ballroom at a leisurely pace. Tobias followed, curious about her antics. Proper women did not encourage improper attention so brazenly unless they were eager for a lover. Leopold had supplied all the necessary warnings for his first foray into society. He knew what he was getting into and was sure to like it.
He stepped into a dimly lit chamber and spied another door open to the terrace. Moonlight cast a woman’s shadow on the parquetry floor and he moved toward her eagerly. He blinked as he stepped through the doorway, but she’d vanished into thin air as if she had never been.
He turned in a slow circle, and then groaned as three shadows appeared out of the gloom. Lord Archibald and two tall gentlemen glared menacingly at him. He’d not been introduced to the other two.
Tobias nodded carefully. “Gentlemen, to what do I owe the honor?”
“You’re to take yourself away,” Archibald began. “She’s not for the likes of you.”
Wonderful. Archibald really was jealous of any attention bestowed on Miss Trimble. He’d taken his earlier flirtation with his cousin Miss Trimble as a serious intention to pursue her for her heavy dowry. If Archibald was so keen on her, he should have asked her to dance. “Keep your powder dry, she’s already made up her own mind about who she wants.”
The trio circled, cutting him off from the soiree taking place inside.
“Her mind can be changed again,” Lord Archibald growled. “Just stay away from Lady Venables.”
“Lady Venables?” He had to be joking. Surely. Tobias laughed. “You’ve got balls for brains. She . . .”
Archibald’s fist landed in his gut without warning. Tobias fell, stunned by the unexpected blow. Was he going to fight over a woman who didn’t want him? Archibald’s two companions caught his arms and dragged him to his feet while Archibald readied himself to deliver another blow. Apparently Tobias was to have no say in the matter. He refused to be restrained.
Tobias kicked out with both feet, striking Archibald squarely in the chest and knocked him to the ground. Since his arms were held loosely, he continued his flight, flipping over the top of his two assailants before they could stop him. In their surprise, they let go his arms and Tobias grabbed both their heads and whacked them together.
All three remained on the ground, staring at him in shock. He tugged on his coat sleeves and waistcoat to make sure his attire was still in order. The life he’d lived did have its uses. He might have been caught by surprise initially, but he’d never be taken by force again. Lord Archibald pressed a hand his chest, wheezing slightly.
Tobias scowled at him. “Imbecile. Lady Venables still loves her late husband. You'd do better to keep a watch over your own cousin. She’s got her eye on a man to wed, but I don’t think he deserves her affection.”
Tobias spun on his heel and stalked back inside. This is what he’d come home to—idiots and women who didn’t follow through with their unspoken promises. When he returned to his party, he threw a scowl at Blythe where she danced with an older man. This was all her fault. He should have stayed at home guarding the duke rather than sparing with society.
A footman drew near and he took two glasses, ignoring the shocked whispers around him. He downed one glass and then the other. He took a third and fourth from the footman and sent him on his merry way. If Blythe had a problem with his drinking she could go to the devil like everyone else.
~ * ~
Blythe fanned herself as the second last set of the evening ended. What an exhausting night. She’d never been as sought after before. “My dear, you dance like an angel still.”
She smiled at Lord Merrow’s statement, one that matched every other dance partner she’d had tonight, save Tobias. She’d missed a step during their set as she’d spotted Tobias slumped untidily in a chair across the room. “Thank you, my lord. You are very kind. Please give my regards to your wife when next you see her. It’s been too long since we’ve spoken.”
Lord Merrow’s wife was a dear lady, but she hardly ever came to these events. It must be painful to watch her husband ogling each and every dance partner. Blythe knew what Lord Merrow was about. Thanks to Tobias’ warning, she was more alert to her dance partner’s seemingly innocent suggestions that they could take a stroll or get some air on the terrace.
She wasn’t looking for a lover. If she ever did want one, there was one lying in wait for her across the room. She said good night to her partner and then glanced around. Tobias had disappeared again.
She rejoined her sister and Mercy caught her arm and steered her toward the door. “May we go now, my dear? I ache to be home again with Edwin.”
Blythe leaned into her sister. “You should have said something earlier. I could have made my excuses and departed an hour ago. I fear my feet may never recover.”
“So you were much trodden on. Did Tobias do that?”
“No. He danced extremely well.” Surprisingly, out of all of her partners, she’d enjoyed their dance best. She’d known what to expect from his conversation and had been completely at ease with him.
“I thought so, too. I must confess I bullied him into practicing the steps at home. There was much whispering about him tonight and Miss Trimble fairly glowed with joy while they danced.” Mercy sighed happily. “He must have charmed her completely.”
Blythe pressed her lips together and then released them quickly. She shouldn’t show her annoyance that Tobias had made even more of an impression on Emma. She collected her shawl and looped it around her shoulders, her joy in the evening diminishing. When she looked ahead again and found Tobias loitering in the entrance hall. He bowed politely and then fell into step behind her with his brother.
“Where the devil have you been?” Leopold demanded once they had moved out of the butler’s earshot.
“Admiring how better men live,” Tobias replied. “Not a bad little cottage.”
“What’s got into
you tonight? You’ve barely spoken a civil word to anyone since supper.”
Blythe glanced over her shoulder as Tobias shrugged. Their eyes met and he scowled again. Blythe faced forward, hurrying down the staircase to their waiting carriage. The carriage. Dear heavens, he must be on edge at having to enter it again.
Once Mercy had settled inside, Blythe climbed in and took her place, pulling the blanket about her to ward off the chill in the air. Leopold climbed in next and after several moments, Tobias joined them—his breathing already unsteady. What could she do, discreetly, to distract him?
She flicked the coach blanket across his knees and adjusted her shawl tighter about her, inching closer to Tobias as she did so. As she hoped, Tobias’ hand skimmed on her thigh. “May I be of assistance?”
Blythe was thrown forward as the coach moved off. Tobias caught her and set her back on the bench. With both his hands sliding over her hips, her own breathing grew unsteady. She looked over her shoulder. “I think the material is twisted at the back.”
Tobias obliged and fussed with her wrap with one hand. When he was done, he tucked his hand under the blanket and caught hers. His grip was firm and she peered carefully at him. His breathing appeared calmer although her own was hardly steady.
The return trip to Romsey passed quietly. Tobias appeared to doze, but his thumb caressed her hand intermittently proving him awake. Blythe had a lot of time to consider the evening and the man sitting beside her. If she were honest with herself, she couldn’t seem to remove him from her mind. She’d worried at his reception for the entire evening. When he was out of sight, she’d considered looking for him.
That he’d warned her of the gentlemen betting on getting into her bed highlighted how unfairly she had considered him before now. He wasn’t a bad man, per se. But he was blunt and brazen when he spoke of what he wanted. He’d been more than kind to her considering Adam’s things. He’d stored them without asking for anything in return.
Despite everything that had gone on between them, the kisses and caresses that shook her world, Blythe had never felt pressured. Teased certainly, but that was all.
Forsaking the Prize Page 16
