Forsaking the Prize

by Boyd, Heather

  The carriage rolled to a stop before Romsey Abbey and Tobias shot out immediately. By the time they had all disembarked, he was crossing the threshold and promptly disappeared inside the vast building. Clearly, her actions had not been enough of a distraction. She should remember, if the occasion ever presents itself again, that merely holding hands was insufficient to counter his distress.

  Blythe followed Leopold and Mercy inside, puzzled by her disappointment. Why should she care if Tobias needed something more than she offered? He wasn’t hers to look after.

  She looked around as the main door closed with a thud, puzzled by the paintings hanging on the walls. When had they changed?

  Wilcox drew near. “Can I help you, my lady?”

  Blythe pressed her finger to her lips, preventing her questions from tumbling out. “No, I don’t think so.”

  She stepped up on the first rise, but her thoughts tumbled over themselves. Why would anyone move paintings, family portraits, at this time of night? There was no need for the servants to clean at this hour. They should have sought their beds or their own entertainment by now.

  When she made the first landing, she glanced down at Wilcox. He watched her ascent. A chill swept her skin and she hurried for the family wing. Leopold and Mercy had already disappeared from sight; no doubt already with the young duke.

  She headed to her nephew’s chamber, too, and she knocked softly so she wouldn’t wake him if he was asleep.

  “Come in, Blythe,” Mercy called.

  She opened the door and peered around the gap. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

  Mercy smiled at her sleeping child. “You also wanted to peek in on Edwin, didn’t you? My son is so lucky to have you to watch over him, too. Goodnight sister. Pleasant dreams.”

  “Goodnight, Lady Venables,” Leopold murmured as he tucked Edwin’s arms beneath the covers, and brushed his hair from his eyes.

  The more time she spent around Leopold, observing his attention to the boy, the more she softened toward him. He was a good man, despite the past. It had just taken time for her to see it. “Until tomorrow, Leopold.”

  She closed the door behind her as Mercy crowed. “See, I told you she had grown fond of you, my love.”

  Blythe moved away, amused by her sister’s observation. She had gotten over the shock of Leopold fathering her nephew. Perhaps they had a chance to be friends one day.

  She let herself into her bedchamber and reached for the jewels around her throat, glad that she’d ordered Mrs. Turner to bed instead of waiting up to attend her. She needed some time alone to sort out her thoughts. The evening had been more interesting than she’d expected.

  She sat at her dressing table and lifted her hands to her hair. After removing the pins, she rubbed her tender scalp with her fingertips.

  “I wanted to thank you for your assistance this evening,” Tobias said quietly behind her.

  She spun on the bench and found him a few feet away, still perfectly dressed from the evening out. “My goodness you can be quiet when you want to be. Thanks are unnecessary.”

  “No. Not from me. You helped without asking and I do appreciate that. My behavior towards you has been less than exemplary. You deserved better from me and you shall have it from tomorrow on.”

  Blythe stood unsteadily. The last time the pirate had been in her bedroom he’d been filled with bravado and excitement. The change in his demeanor was disconcerting. “From tomorrow, but not from tonight?”

  He smiled. “I wanted to talk to you before morning comes and this seemed the quickest way to get you alone.”

  “A delay of a day to be a gentleman.”

  “A day and ten years.” He gently took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I should not have mauled you in the carriage, but it certainly helped. I couldn’t think of anything but the warmth of your body and the taste of your lips for the entire journey. I would have spoken of my gratitude once on solid ground, but I had to get away quickly.”

  She stared up at him and saw desire flare in his eyes. Her heart thudded painfully in response and she licked her lips. “Why is that?”

  She lifted her hand and touched his chest. His warmth filled her with a yearning to be held tight in his arms.

  “Because thinking of your body so close to mine aroused me.” He touched her unbound hair and sifted the strands between his fingers. “Seeing you like this isn’t helping either.”

  He stepped back suddenly and bowed.

  “Goodnight, beautiful lady. I promise to be a better man tomorrow.”

  Then he was gone, slipping from her chamber and leaving her more confused than ever. She dropped onto the dresser stool, astonished to be disappointed that Tobias had gone away.

  Nineteen

  Tobias swirled the remaining whiskey around the bottom of his glass, admiring the rich color before he swallowed it whole. The Duke of Romsey possessed a truly good cellar. One of these days, he should check how large a stock he kept. A pity Edwin was four years old and too young to enjoy his own beverages. Maybe later, when he’d grown up to be a man, they could get roaring drunk together. Perhaps, if he was still around he would.

  He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, delaying his departure a few more minutes. He was not quite ready to pay a social call to his dance partner of the previous evening, as good manners dictated he should. Too many thoughts preyed on his mind and he required the scant comfort whiskey offered to sweeten his sour mood.

  Heavy footsteps crossed the room, coming toward him. “Was that another gentleman caller for Lady Venables?”

  Tobias sighed, opening his eyes to view his brother. “Yes, I believe so.”

  Blythe was responsible, indirectly, for his foul mood. She had gentlemen almost lining up their carriages along the driveway to see her today. The word had spread that she’d cast off her mourning and the fellows who’d danced with her last night, and the ones who hadn’t attended the soiree, had come to call. Rich, titled men who could afford to keep her in the style she was accustomed to. He hadn’t known his financial situation bothered him so much until today.

  From what he could see from his vantage point in the library, the admirers were near to panting in anticipation. He could understand their hope to spend more time with the woman—but he didn’t like it which was why he was holed up in the library drowning in regrets. Blythe wasn’t for him and he was certain to hear a marriage announcement very soon.

  Leopold eased into a nearby chair with a groan. “I was thinking of going over to Harrowdale tomorrow to see what must be done to make the place livable. Would you care to come with me?”

  Tobias poured another drink before he answered. How could he hide Blythe’s things from Leopold if he was set on an inspection of Harrowdale? He downed the glass as he considered the possibilities. Leopold was the sort of man to view a house from top to bottom and side to side before he made any final decisions. He needed to keep his brother away from Harrowdale until Blythe had settled on who she’d wed or reclaimed her property. “I can manage whatever might be required for Harrowdale. You have enough on your plate as it is. I’ve been there a few times now and I know the work ahead of me. The roof is sound, windows intact. All that’s required is a thorough clean and the laying in of stores for winter. During the spring and summer months I’ll work on improving the gardens. They’re a little wild these days.”

  “You’re certain you wish to live there alone so soon.” Leopold eyed the whiskey bottle at his elbow with a frown, clearly disapproving. “You’ll need servants.”

  “I’m looking forward to living at Harrowdale again. The place suits me. As for servants, I won’t need many nor can I afford to keep them.”

  Leopold poured himself a whiskey, shifting the bottle out of Tobias’ reach in the process. “You would need more servants should you marry. We can talk about it then. Women like to have assistance and the company.”

  “That is true. Women like to have their comforts.”


  “So, are you seriously considering marriage?”

  Tobias glanced away, uncomfortable but knowing the conversation was necessary. Did he want to live alone for his entire life? A tavern wench might relieve his needs, but a wife would provide some companionship every day and prevent him from turning into a crusty old bachelor. He liked the idea of coming home to Harrowdale and having someone waiting to see him. “I might be.”

  “Good. We don’t want you to be alone your whole life.”

  Tobias regarded his brother steadily. “We?”

  Leopold grinned. “Mercy has it in her head to make a match for you. You could do well with her help.”

  “The only thing the woman requires is a friendly disposition, a healthy dowry, and a strong stomach,” Tobias said bitterly.

  Leopold frowned. “You’re worried about how your scars will be received? I’m sure the right woman will overlook the injuries you sustained if you take her into your confidence.”

  “Optimist.” Tobias crossed to the window facing the south gardens, enjoying the way the world swayed and then slowly righted itself again. Blythe had touched his scars and not run screaming. Perhaps Miss Trimble would view them without revulsion, too? What would a young lady think of his past if he confessed the worst of it to her?

  He stared at the gardens wondering what it took to court a proper lady. Leopold’s lessons had not touched upon the subject near enough. He’d have to embarrass himself and likely ask something that should be obvious to others. But he supposed the first step in any courtship was the paying of calls, even in the rain.

  A light drizzle was falling, bathing the grounds in fine mist. In the distance, he could see Beth and her boy, George, walking away from the abbey together. Beth Turner had settled when she couldn’t marry the man she’d loved. How easily had Beth reconciled herself to her second choice for a husband? He turned to Leopold. “How is Beth adjusting to life at the abbey?”

  “Well, I believe. Wilcox will tell me if there are any problems.”

  Beth wouldn’t tell anyone if she was unhappy. She was the sort to keep her problems to herself, no matter how heartbreaking they might be. “And the boy?”

  “I’ve asked Allen to keep an eye on him during the day while Beth is otherwise engaged. He’s a fine boy. Much like his father.”

  “Temper to match?” Beth’s husband might have been Leopold’s friend, but Tobias had always been wary of the man. Had he been good to Beth while he lived?

  “Not that I’ve seen so far, thankfully. In that, I believe he takes after his mother in temper. I have high hopes he’ll make something of himself when he’s grown. That reminds me, I’ve an advertisement to place for a tutor.”

  “Better you than me. I think . . .” Tobias was interrupted by a coach and four drawing up before Romsey. “Who’s that now?”

  Leopold hurried to the window and peeked out. “Lord Archibald and . . . Oh, he doesn’t appear to have brought his sisters, or Miss Trimble, with him today. That makes seventeen potential suitors.”

  Tobias settled before the fire with a heavy heart. “How is he dressed?”

  “Very well, actually. Very fine indeed.”

  Tobias snorted and drained his glass. He set it carefully on the table, listening as Archibald requested a private audience with Blythe. Tobias had been right in his suspicions last night. Archibald wasn’t wasting any time in proposing to Blythe and that meant Miss Trimble was free to be pursued.

  He stared at the flames crackling in the hearth. The match would be a good one for him. However, Miss Trimble could be devastated if her first love married Blythe. Perhaps he could ease Miss Trimble’s heartache by courting her, once he discovered how it should be done.

  He stood and picked up the hat he’d tossed aside when he’d come downstairs. Time to do his duty and call on Miss Trimble.

  “Don’t you go anywhere, sir,” Mercy scolded as she slipped into the room and left the door slightly ajar. “There are important developments occurring this morning that you should not miss.”

  Tobias didn’t want to hear about Lord Archibald’s call, but he felt compelled to pretend otherwise. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” Mercy clasped her hands together. “My sister has always been well regarded and, as I hoped, her coming out of mourning yesterday has triggered the local unwed lord’s interest. But I had not anticipated such a determined crowd. I wish I could stay to hear the exchange between Lord Archibald and Blythe for I am sure, judging by his demeanor, that he is going to propose to her this very day.”

  Tobias tightened his grip on the brim of his hat. “That is interesting news, but you will have to save the telling for later. I was just on my way to pay a call to Miss Trimble.”

  Mercy nodded in approval. “I will. You may be certain to hear all the details later. I will not allow Blythe to leave out a single one in the telling.”

  Wonderful. More torture to come. He jammed his hat upon his head and left the room. But as he tugged on his great coat as he passed the drawing room doors, Lord Archibald professed his undying love for Blythe. He gritted his teeth and stalked outside into the pouring rain. His opportunities to savor Blythe’s sweet lips were at an end.

  ~ * ~

  Blythe stamped her foot. “My lord, allow me to tell you that you are impossibly dense.”

  Lord Archibald, still kneeling upon the floor, blinked at her refusal. Finally. She had told him three times now that she couldn’t accept. What did Emma see in the fool? She pressed her hands to her cheeks. Oh, dear heavens, poor Emma. After last night’s disagreement, which Blythe hadn’t managed to patch up to her satisfaction, Emma would be utterly heartbroken.

  Archibald regained his feet. “I was given to understand that you would accept my suit.”

  “What?” Blythe shook her head. “I cannot imagine who told you such a falsehood, but you are entirely wrong. I’ve no wish to marry you.”

  His frown would be comical if the situation wasn’t so serious. “But you’re out of mourning and I felt that we had come to know one another well enough to hope for more.”

  “My lord, are you basing your proposal on a few conversations spent among company?”

  “Well, yes, of course I am. Anything more would have been scandalous given your grief for the late Lord Venables. I had hoped time had healed your heart enough to accept another in his place.”

  Blythe closed her eyes. When she could speak with a civil tone, she opened them. “No one will ever replace Raphael in my affections. He was an exceptional man and I miss him dearly. But it would take far more than mere conversation to change my mind on the subject and not just the surprise proposal you have offered.”

  “The younger Randall said you’d not forgotten your husband, but I hated to place much store in the devil’s words.” Archibald was before her in an instant. “The current Lord Venables approves of my suit and I’ll do everything I can to convince you, you may be sure of that.”

  “You spoke to my stepson?”

  “Of course.” He pulled her to him roughly and planted a kiss on her lips. It was hard and lacked every tender feeling Blythe had come to expect from kisses. It was like being mauled by a wild beast.

  She shoved him away and pressed her hand to her bruised lips. “Sir, you forget yourself.”

  He followed her. “We would be a perfect match. Your elegance and reputation for my wealth and title. My sister’s adore you already so you have no concerns on that score.”

  Blythe held out her hand to halt his approach. “Do not ever touch me again. I thought you a gentleman, but I see I was in error.”

  A frown crossed Archibald’s face. “My lady, your reserve does you credit, but I am aware that ladies often speak differently to what’s in their hearts. My own family is proof of that.”

  “What of Emma?”

  “What about my cousin? She will step aside once we’ve wed and allow you to take control of the household. I have indulged her enough as it is.”

  He didn’t
know Emma adored the ground he walked on. Blythe swallowed her sadness, but she still had to convince him they wouldn’t suit. Since kind honesty hadn’t worked to let him down gently, she’d have to be blunt. “You, sir, are more of a fool than I believed. You do not know the first thing about women and what would make them happy.”

  A cocky grin crossed his face. “I know the important things very well. Come here. Enough of your games.”

  A male throat cleared at the doorway. “Forgive me for interrupting, Lady Venables.”

  Leopold Randall stood with his hand on the door. His scowl would have cracked the earth if he had that power within his reach.

  Archibald scowled. “This is a private matter, sir, and none of your concern.”

  Blythe ducked away from Lord Archibald and put space, and chairs for good measure, between them.

  Leopold glanced at her briefly and then returned his attention to Lord Archibald, his free hand curling into a fist. “I’m making it my concern. Lady Venables has said no to your proposal, repeatedly, and that is an end to the matter. Please leave Romsey before I embarrass her and throw you out on your arse.”

  “As if you would dare.” Archibald picked up his hat. “My lady, it pains me to share this confidence with you, but Venables mentioned last night that he’s leased Walden Hall to a friend for the summer. Marriage to me will save you the embarrassment of becoming a burden on your family. I will see you again tomorrow, and every day until you accept.”

  Blythe lifted her chin. “I will not be at home to you when you call.”

  “You’ll come around soon enough. Good day, my dear.” He slowly sauntered out, leaving Blythe alone with Leopold.

  Leopold crossed the chamber until he stood before her. “Forgive my intrusion. Wilcox was concerned for your welfare.”

  “Wilcox sent for you? Was he spying on me?”

  Leopold laughed suddenly. “He said it was the first time you had raised your voice loud enough to be heard in another chamber. He feared you were not having much luck convincing Archibald that his affections were not returned and thought I might help convince him to go away. Are you all right?”