Forsaking the Prize

by Boyd, Heather

  She shook her head. “No, we don’t want to draw Wilcox’s attention by moving it.”

  He eyed her skeptically. “And a countess standing upon a chair like a hoyden isn’t head-turning enough?” His hand slid up and down her stocking. Despite the impropriety and the risk of getting caught, the sensation was quite lovely after so long without his touch.

  Blythe hopped up on the chair and placed her hands on the wall to steady herself. “Quiet, Wilcox may be listening. I don’t trust him not to have his ear to the door.”

  The painting was lit harshly; a cloudy day bathed the building in feeble light. She peered at the distant features, tying to determine if she knew the location of the place. It did remind her of somewhere, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. When she peered at the building itself—a dark shape loomed in an upstairs window. The other windows held similar forms, but the one in the left corner chamber was the most distinct. A man?

  She glanced down. Tobias still held her leg, his warm palm slid up and down her calf to her knee in a slow caress. His hand stilled. “What did you discover?”

  She scowled at the painting. “More questions.”

  He caught her about the waist and slowly lowered her to the floor. His hands lingered as she stared at him, but before she could gather her wits he jumped onto the chair himself. The chair creaked and she grabbed for his leg.

  He chuckled. “Just a bit of give, B. It won’t break and drop me on my backside.”

  Easy for him to say. Blythe waited impatiently for him to finish and get down again.

  When he stepped down, he was frowning. “I don’t know that place and hope never to.”

  “Why is that? Do you recognize it?”

  Tobias shook his head sadly. “Looks like a mad house. There was one some miles from Whitsbury when I was a boy. People whispered about the goings on of the place all the time when they thought I couldn’t hear. May still be there now for all I know. I’d have to ask Wilcox or Murphy if Skepington still stands.”

  She caught his arm tightly. “No, don’t ask them. Skepington Hall still functions as a home for the mad. I hadn’t considered the place in years, but I suppose I would have seen it again if matters here had unfolded very differently.”

  Tobias frowned as his hand rose to cup her face. “Did you fear you’d be committed there when I came home?”

  She gulped and nodded quickly.

  “Mercy wouldn’t have allowed that to happen, and neither would I. No one as good as you deserves such ill treatment.”

  His words soothed her as much as his touch, but his fingers slipped away. She glanced up at the painting again, thinking hard. The house was painted somewhat larger than it actually was, but that could certainly be Skepington. “Why would the duke have a painting of a mad house in his drawing room unless he had a connection or an interest in someone who might be residing there?”

  “You think he’d be that obvious?”

  “It is a possibility. The current Lord Merrow’s father was a friend of the duke’s. If I’ve learned anything about the duke this last month it was that he had a vast need to control the family and prove his cleverness. Leopold stood in this chamber whenever he was summoned to Romsey. Hanging those paintings here, where he’d meet with Leopold, would have given him a peculiar thrill.”

  Tobias looked at the other paintings and then tapped on the one containing the spotted dog. “If memory serves, Rosemary possessed a dog of that breed. Evil tempered beast, much like its owner. I wonder what happened to it.”

  “Nothing good I’m sure.” Blythe rubbed her hands together. “Do you recognize the building or surroundings?”

  “No, not at all. You?”

  She shook her head. The house was completely unfamiliar to her and she knew many in the immediate area. “What of this last painting? There are quite a number of horses in it.”

  Tobias raked his fingers through his hair and then he barked out a laugh. “I think I can guess why that particular painting hangs there.”

  “What? Why?”

  His gaze grew shuttered. “I would tell you, but I don’t think you will want to hear the explanation. Suffice to say it is another bit of family scandal. The fellow is well and healthy. Will you trust me on this and not ask questions?”

  She eyed him warily. So far he had not steered her wrong on matters she shouldn’t know details of. Perhaps it was time to accept what he said at face value and trust him. It might save time. She nodded. “I think Skepington should be investigated. I’m going to order my carriage prepared.” She pointed at the picture. “If I leave now I should be able to reach the village before nightfall. I’ll take lodgings and approach Lord Merrow for a tour of the place tomorrow morning. It wouldn’t be an unreasonable request given the length of our acquaintance. He’s a nice man and his wife is a friend. If he refuses, I’ll appeal to his wife. I am confident Lady Merrow will sympathize with my request.”

  “I cannot let you travel the distance alone.”

  She touched his arm. “Be reasonable. I’ll be in the chaise for hours. Remember how badly your last carriage ride went and that was a fraction of the distance. I’ll tell Mercy I need to return to Walden Hall overnight and continue on to Skepington. You cannot undertake the journey with me. Think of the gossip if we are seen together so far from Romsey. If Oliver is there, as I hope he is, I will convince Lord Merrow to release him to my care. I’ll return before you know it.”

  Tobias took a deep breath. “I’ll manage your small carriage. It’s open to the air enough that I can set my fears aside for one day.”

  Stubborn man. He’d be a wreck after the first mile. “Two days in a carriage, Tobias. There and back. You’ll never survive it.”

  He took a pace away. “If there is gossip I will, of course, ensure your reputation is restored, but like it or not I am coming with you. I’ll be waiting for you at the entrance to Romsey Abbey, at the pond. Make sure you collect a blanket or two to keep you warm. It looks cold outside.”

  He spun on his heel, returned the chair to its original place against the wall, and stalked off before she could call him back.

  Blythe’s heart thudded painfully, but she wouldn’t turn aside from her decision. This small hope was the first lead in the search for the remaining Randall siblings. She couldn’t leave a sane man adrift in a sea of insanity if she could save him. She just couldn’t.

  Twenty Four

  Lights from the township of Whitsbury glimmered in the distance and Tobias nudged the woman dozing beside him. “We’re nearing a village, B.”

  She sat up quickly, ran her hands over her hair and gown, and then rubbed them together. “It’s grown so cold in the last hour.”

  The temperature had dropped considerably since they had left Romsey and although this was the first time she’d mentioned the cold, it was not the first time Tobias had thought of Blythe’s possible discomfort. He’d considered removing his coat two miles back and covering her sleeping form with it. To stop, however, might have awakened her unnecessarily. The long journey had wearied her miles ago. “I’ll have you warmed soon enough. Which building is the inn?”

  “The first one, I believe.”

  He tooled the chaise into the small coaching yard and drew back on the reins. A young boy ran out from the stables and caught the bridle as he climbed down. “He looks done in, sir.”

  Tobias stretched the kinks from his back. “He’s served us well. See that he receives extra attention tonight. We’ll have need of him first thing in the morning.”

  The boy patted the drooping horse’s neck. “Yes, sir.”

  Tobias looked about him. The coaching house yard was neat and well kept. The stables appeared clean and well tended. He glanced up at the building. A handsome woman lingered at the window. A maid? Her smile grew and she crooked her fingers at him, inviting him for what he assumed would be a pleasant interlude. He grinned.

  “Tobias,” Blythe said from the carriage seat. “Please don’t keep me w
aiting.”

  Tobias winced. He tossed the boy a coin and then held out his hand. He lifted Blythe from the carriage easily and for a moment she held onto him. The woman in the window didn’t compare to the woman he held and he leaned closer to inhale her scent. “Forgive my tardiness.”

  Her gaze darted to the upper window where the woman stood. “I’ll leave you to your own devices, shall I?” Her lips pressed together.

  Tobias frowned at her comment. He wasn’t going to abandon her at a place like this. “My dear lady, I came with you to protect you and I’ll stay with you, never fear.”

  “Stay with me?” She clenched her hands together. “And how will it look to others? You’ve been calling on Miss Trimble. She will not be happy about your decision to accompany me. I should have driven on without you.”

  “Miss Trimble may be stubborn, but I’ll not let her opinion sway me from doing the right thing.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “She’s determined to think ill of you.”

  “You’ve spoken of me when you’ve gone courting her.”

  “Of course I’ve spoken of you. Why else ... wait. Do you imagine I am courting your friend?”

  When Blythe nodded, he grabbed her arm, hope and doubt warring within him. Was she jealous? He shook his head. “I was trying to convince her that she’d made a cake of herself. I don’t want her. I want you. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire life.”

  A man coughed. “Evening, Sir. Madam. I’m Jeremiah Drake, owner of this establishment. Can I be of help to you both?”

  Blythe faced the newcomer, but Tobias caught a glimpse of the smile that burst across her face. “My husband and I require accommodations for the evening, Mr. Drake. Dinner, some wine, and a warm chamber with a comfortable bed.”

  Husband? Tobias caught Blythe’s hand, but she did not look at him.

  The innkeeper unhooked the straps holding her small trunk to the rear of the chaise and hefted it over his shoulder. “Very good, Madam. Sir. If you’ll come this way.”

  As the innkeeper hurried for the building, Blythe threw a shy smile over her shoulder. “Leave the horse for the boy, darling. I need a bath and a good nights sleep after the long day we’ve had.”

  Tobias tugged her against his chest. “Since when have you ever thought of me fondly enough to call me any name beside pirate?”

  Her gaze searched his. “Familiarity will convince others that we are man and wife. I hope the ruse might save my reputation.” She hurried after the innkeeper.

  Bemused by her ploy, Tobias followed her inside the inn. The tap room contained a noisy crowd, but the innkeeper quickly directed them to a smaller dining room well away from the noise where a cheerful fire burned. Blythe hurried to the hearth.

  What the devil was she thinking to be speaking endearments to him so freely? He’d give his eye teeth to know if she meant them.

  Mr. Drake stomped upstairs with their baggage as a woman approached. “Welcome. I’m Mrs. Drake. You’ve met my husband already. We have onion soup, pork pie and roast beef.”

  Blythe stripped off her gloves and held her hands out to the flames. “That will be acceptable, thank you, but can you fetch ale for my husband.”

  “Oh dearie, you must be chilled through. I’ll send up warming pans for the bed directly to heat the linen. If there is anything you need just ask.” The innkeeper’s wife bobbed a curtsey and bustled out.

  Tobias drew closer to Blythe and caught up one of her hands. “That’s the second time you’ve referred to me as your husband?”

  She shrugged and dug into her reticule. “It seemed a good choice to avoid uncomfortable questions being asked. Just sign the register as Mr. and Mrs. Randall. No one will question you too closely. Besides, a place such as this would give a married couple their best room if available and I detest sleeping on lumpy mattresses.”

  Tobias caressed her waist. “So, we’ll be sharing a room, B. A bed, too.”

  “That is what married couples often do.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “It cannot be helped. It ensures that you do not visit Skepington without me. I’ll not be left behind in the morning wondering if he is there. I warn you, I sleep lightly. I’m coming with you.”

  “A mad house is no place for you.”

  She pressed a handful of coins into his palm. “This should cover any expenses we incur here. Don’t argue.”

  He dropped his arm from her waist and thrust the money back at her. “I cannot take your money. You haven’t enough as it is.” He’d forgotten about needing funds on the trip and the little money he had was hidden behind a drawer at Romsey. He would have slept in the stables, but he couldn’t expect Blythe to do so.

  She frowned. “You will if you want to eat tonight and in the morning. The expense is nothing to me. Besides, the money is for the innkeeper, not you personally. I would have spent the same amount should you have stayed behind. A husband would manage such discussions rather than his wife. Don’t worry about the matter. You can repay me when we return home and no one will ever know.”

  “I’ll know.” He walked a few paces away and then turned back. “Did anyone ever tell you that you are a frustrating woman?”

  She smiled instead of answering and returned to warming her hands. Tobias threw his hands up in the air. Frustrating, beguiling, and quite likely correct about everything. He paced the room; glad to stretch his legs and be free of the restrictions of the small carriage and Blythe’s proximity. By mid-afternoon he’d actually begun to enjoy tooling the carriage along the road and was no longer plagued by memories of his parents as the carriage pitched over on its side. It helped to have Blythe at his side, occasionally touching him as they talked. Yet he worried about his brother and the beautiful woman determined to risk her reputation to recover him. Tobias hoped they’d not come on a fools errand.

  He glanced at her again, noticing how she hugged the hearth. She must be chilled to the bone. They should have taken one of the duchess’ larger carriages instead of sneaking away. He could warm her easily if she were in his arms.

  Unfortunately, the innkeeper’s wife chose that moment to deliver their food. The maid he’d glimpsed in the upstairs window carried a pitcher of ale. The wench peeked at him from under her lashes, inviting with just her eyes. Blythe smoothly stepped between them, as if protecting him from a wild beast. He smothered a laugh. All thoughts of the wench had vanished the moment Blythe referred to him as her husband. A small kernel of hope had bloomed as she’d taken charge as if she was in truth his wife.

  The maid, without a reason or encouragement to linger, was sent away by Mrs. Drake. “Your chamber is prepared for you, Mrs. Randall. I’ll send up hot water shortly.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Drake. That would be very welcome after today.”

  Blythe moved to the table and Tobias hurried to draw out her chair for her. When she sat, he kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for today.”

  Blythe inclined her head and they ate in companionable silence. However, at the end of the meal, she covered her mouth to hide her yawn. “I don’t believe I’ve ever felt so tired in my life.”

  He drained the last of his ale and set the mug on the table carefully. “You should go up and get into bed.”

  She glanced at the door and then eyed him warily. “What will you be doing?”

  Tobias quite liked this unexpected side of Blythe’s character. He’d never have pegged her as the possessive type, but she definitely didn’t want him out of her sight for long. “Oh, I’ll be coming along shortly. I thought you might prefer a moment or two of privacy. I can settle with the innkeeper tonight so we are not delayed in the morning.”

  Her face creased with suspicion. “That’s very kind of you. I’ll leave the candles burning so you can find your way about the chamber.”

  He laughed as he stood and then held his hand out to her. She rose from the chair, a question in her gaze. Tobias tugged her against his chest roughly. “Trust me, B. I’ll be along in a moment or two.”

/>   Not that he’d be sleeping beside her exactly. If he were a proper gentleman, he’d sleep in a chair or on the floor. But his days of sleeping rough were over. He’d never be a proper gentleman. However, in an effort to appear so to Blythe, he planned to sleep on top of the sheet to keep away from her flawless skin. They’d both be comfortable and sleep decently apart. He didn’t possess a nightshirt and he didn’t want to offend her delicate sensibilities with his scarred and naked skin.

  A soft smile tugged her lips and then she headed upstairs. He glanced down at the erection tenting his breeches. Damned inconvenient to lose control now. He’d done so well at hiding how she affected him these past days.

  He stared at the mantle clock, counting the minutes, tying to judge how much time she might require. Five minutes. Ten? He waited out ten minutes by pacing the room and examining every object on display three times over. Then, after he’d paid the innkeeper, obtained directions to Lord Merrow’s residence and the nearby Skepington Hall, he slowly climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. He could do this. He could sleep beside Blythe and never consider wandering to her side of the mattress.

  “Come in.”

  He set his hand on the latch and stepped across the threshold. His pulse pounded in his ears. He didn’t know what was the matter with him. It wasn’t as if he’d never been in Blythe’s bedchamber before.

  When he lifted his gaze, his heart stopped. Blythe sat on the bed, half under the covers, nightgown barely covering her beauty. She’d let down her hair too and his fingers itched to run through the strands. His side of the bed had been folded back. He dropped into a chair to hide the bulge reforming in his trousers, wincing at the discomfort as he removed his boots. When he thought himself under control, he met her gaze. “How early do you think we can meet with Lord Merrow? The innkeeper says Skepington is very close. We could go there first without bothering him.”

  “We must speak to Lord Merrow first. Too early would be considered rude, but we want to leave enough time so we might return to Romsey close to nightfall.”