Twenty Eight
Tobias stepped down from the carriage and held out his hand. “Home sweet home.”
Blythe’s small hand touched his and sent his pulse racing as it had frequently done on the return journey. He had thought he would grow accustomed to her after the long hours alone with Oliver’s sleepy company to dampen his yearning. But the more time he spent with her, the more he craved.
Every time she smiled, his heart lurched. “I thought we would never arrive.”
He helped her out, but didn’t immediately let go. He was not quite ready to give her up and be a proper gentleman yet. “Was it a long trip? I never noticed.”
“Are you cured then?” Her breath created steam in the cold night air, reminding him that he was keeping her out in the elements longer than he should.
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I had the perfect distraction on hand to make the journey seem unimportant.”
Oliver cleared his throat and Tobias let her go, remembering he’d promised to behave. He checked that the coachman had unlashed Blythe’s bag, and directed the driver of her chaise toward the stables. As the smaller carriage disappeared from sight, he glanced at the abbey door. It swung open, and Blythe’s hand slipped from his.
Wilcox hurried out. “Sir, my lady, you’re back?”
“Of course I’ve returned. And we’ve important news.”
“Very good, sir. Welcome back, Lady Venables. I hope you’ve had a pleasant journey. Her Grace will be eager to know you’ve returned.” He picked up Blythe’s bag and carried it up the stairs without looking back.
Alarm bells rang in Tobias’ mind at Wilcox’s mild tone. They’d been gone two days without leaving word behind. It was a miracle a search hadn’t been organized.
He glanced up at the façade of Romsey Abbey. Every window’s shutter was closed tight. No light seeped out into the night.
Blythe tugged on his arm. “Tobias, I have a very bad feeling.” Her hand slipped into his, trembling.
He’d come to trust her instincts as well as his own. “I agree. We don’t know what’s going on inside.” He caressed her cheek. “Stay close to Oliver and say nothing about his identity until we know what’s afoot.”
“All right.” She turned to the carriage. “Oliver?”
“Wilcox is hiding something,” Oliver said without preamble.
He scrambled from the carriage, cast one nervous glance upward, and then shuddered. Blythe slipped her arm about his waist. “Lean on me if need be.”
“Thank you,” Oliver said. “Let’s give my brother some room.”
They made their way inside without sighting Wilcox anywhere. Light flared beneath the drawing room door and Tobias tipped his head in that direction.
Blythe tightened her grip on Oliver. They could very well be walking straight into a trap, but Blythe wouldn’t become separated from Tobias. He pushed the door open slowly and stepped into the gap. He stood still a long time before slowly stepping aside.
Blythe exchanged a quick glance with Oliver and followed.
Mercy and Leopold sat with Edwin chattering between them. Edwin saw her and burst into action. He ran across the room. “Auntie Bly, Auntie Bly. Where have you been?”
Blythe caught Edwin against her legs and hugged him. “I’m here now.”
Edwin peeked at the man leaning on her for support and he grew shy. “Who’s that?”
Mercy rushed forward before she could answer. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”
Leopold caught Tobias by the upper arms and shook him. “Never run away like that again. I’ve been out of my mind with worry.”
Tobias shrugged out of his grip. “I will if the results can be the same.”
“Mercy was beside herself when she discovered Blythe was not at Walden Hall and that the two of you were missing. If we had known you were with the countess she would not have been so distressed.”
Blythe glanced at Tobias. He nodded. “We have some news,” she said quickly.
“Indeed, you must have.” Leopold approached. “Who is the interesting fellow beside you?” Leopold looked upon Oliver without a shred of recognition.
Tobias moved to stand quite close to Blythe’s side, making her hands tingle with the urge to reach out and grasp his. He chuckled. “I don’t feel so dense now. Brother, may I present, our brother.”
Leopold drew back. “What?”
“I believe that was my first response, too,” Tobias confessed.
Blythe let out a slow breath as Tobias explained, leaving out the details of their night together at the inn. Neither Leopold or Mercy questioned them further. When Leopold led Oliver to a chair, Blythe picked up her nephew and hugged him. The Randall’s had much to discuss and rejoice over. They had Oliver with them once more. Again, she was in the way and unnecessary.
While they were all distracted, she led Edwin toward his toys and settled on the floor to play with him. However, part of her mind remained on Tobias Randall and what kind of future might be possible after last night.
The last days in his company had been a revelation. She’d found a friend and had fallen into bed with Tobias easily. She harbored no regrets about doing so. Once, she’d thought lying with another man would make her feel guilty for betraying Raphael. But instead a great weight had lifted from her shoulders. She felt, for the first time in years that she was free to be happy. She didn’t have to force herself to appear to be having a good time.
“So this is where you’ve run off too, my lady.” Tobias said as he sat cross legged across from Edwin.
Edwin, of course, handed him some toys and they made play at doing battle. Tobias informed him he was a pirate and the boys eyes widened in excitement.
After a time, Tobias looked her way. “Lady Venables, there is a pressing matter I need clarification on.”
“Of course.”
He grinned suddenly. “I quite enjoyed playing the pirate for your entertainment. Are you happy, B?”
Although her heart thumped painfully, she offered him a smile. “Yes. Are you?”
“Foolish question to have asked after last night.” He smiled. “I am overjoyed with my life. Since I was taken from my family, I have felt out of step. I don’t feel that way any longer. Who else could have trimmed my sails and set me on a true course?”
“You were a little wild, at first.”
“Gracious of you.” He leaned across her legs to capture one of Edwin’s ships. “You are an amazing woman, Blythe. I would not have exerted the energy to become this much of a gentleman if not for you.”
Blythe swallowed nervously, glancing across the room, hoping the moment would not be disturbed. “You blame me for taming you.”
“Oh, I’m not tame. Need I remind you of our time spent as husband and wife?”
“No.” Blythe rubbed her arms. She couldn’t forget how wonderful he’d been. “I remember everything in vivid detail.”
“Blythe,” Tobias whispered. “What must an improper gentleman do in order to win himself a proper wife?”
It took Blythe a moment to understand him. When she did, her eyes widened. “I beg your pardon.”
“Don’t make me repeat the question. Mercy may become curious and interrupt at any moment.”
She pressed her clammy hands together, shocked that he was serious about the matter. “I. Um. A gentleman would take the time to get to know the woman before he proposed.”
He spoke to Edwin about their game and then smiled at her. “And when he was sure enough of her character, what then?”
“He might steal a kiss to gauge her interest.”
His brow rose. “A little further along if you please.”
“If he was in earnest, he would go to her father or guardian and ask his permission.”
His brow rose. “Even if she were an independent sort and of age?”
“Well, he would need to know the family approved of the match beforehand unless he wanted to start a mar
riage with family strife over his head.”
Tobias set his hands to the floor and moved closer. “This is all before he even asks the woman if she was done with her mourning and gathers his courage to ask her to marry him?”
Blythe clenched her hands together to hide the shake. “Well, normally, yes.”
“Society really does make this harder than it needs to be.”
Blythe rushed on. “After that, he would present himself to the lady in question.”
“Bring flowers, fall upon his knees, and beg to be put out of his misery.”
“Misery? Marriage is supposed to be a joyous event.”
“Yes, B, this part is misery.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Damned complicated business. How might she answer?”
His gaze pinned her in place and she couldn’t speak for a long moment. “It would depend on the lady.”
“Hmm, that I knew from the outset.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Hold onto that thought,” he whispered. “Something’s amiss.”
Twenty Nine
Oliver glanced about them, a touch of nervousness in his expression. “When was the last time anyone saw Wilcox or another servant?”
Leopold frowned. “Not since you first arrived. I was actually annoyed that he’d neglected his duties. Why?”
Oliver scanned the room. “Where are the duke’s weapons stored now?”
“There are none here. I’ve locked them all up.” Leopold gaped. “But I have one on me. Why?”
“There are many footsteps in the entrance hall,” Oliver warned. “Heavy ones.”
Tobias strained but heard nothing. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, quite.” Oliver tugged on his waistcoat and stood unsteadily. “They’ve come, as I expected them to come once they’ve realized I have returned. They want the location of the duke’s sanctuary.”
“Like hell they’re getting that from any of us,” Leopold growled. “And who the devil are they?”
“You’ll see in a moment. I’m more than happy to show them. They’re not going to like what I tell them, but let’s get this mess out of the way now. Come with me.”
Oliver moved ahead and was the first one through the doorway. Tobias caught his brother around the waist and held him steady on his feet. A circle of servants stood before them. Wilcox at their head, the cook, several footmen and, surprisingly, the housekeeper stood in their midst, too. Each possessed a weapon of a sort. The cook passed a wicked looking knife from hand to hand—one capable of severing the head of any small animal. This was likely the man that had put Blythe’s reputation in peril. He clenched his fist ready to do battle as Leopold swore and lifted his arm, pistol cocked and ready.
Oliver forced Leopold’s arm down. “No need for hostilities. We’ll give them no trouble.”
Tobias clenched his fists. “Speak for yourself.”
Wilcox sneered. “You’re no match for all of us.”
“No. No. No. This foolishness has to stop.” Oliver stepped forward until he stood in the center of the tiled floor. “We will give you what you’ve been searching for and then you will leave Romsey. Leopold, stand on the lower stair and turn the balustrade knob clockwise until it clicks.”
Tobias’ pulse hammered in his ears as Leopold moved to do as asked without a word of protest. Blythe, Mercy and Edwin stood behind them and he was glad for that. They were outnumbered and unarmed. It wouldn’t be a fair fight, and if this went badly, it would be bloody.
The floor beneath his feet shook and he looked down again. Oliver, and the floor he stood on, fell half a foot. Everyone backed away.
Calmly, as if such matters occurred every day, Oliver shuffled off the section and toward him. “There is a chain behind that panel of wood there, Tobias. Press to open it, and then tug on the chain until I say stop.”
Tobias saw a rose carved into the panel and pressed on it as he would with the store room. The panel released and he peered into the very walls of Romsey Abbey. An old rusty chain passed behind the paneling and he grabbed it and tugged. It took more effort than Oliver had let on for the chain to move, but when it did the floor rumbled again.
“What the devil is this?” Wilcox hissed.
He glanced over his shoulder as the other servants gasped and grumbled. A black pit had opened up in Romsey Abbey’s entrance hall. The access to the duke’s sanctuary and Romsey’s true riches were exposed.
Oliver clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s far enough. Come see what the duke’s perverted sense of humor has wrought upon us.”
Tobias let go the chain and glanced down properly.
The pit was ten inches deep and led exactly nowhere.
Oliver set his hands on his hips and addressed the servants. “There was but one way in. The duke sealed it. He’d rather ruin whatever marvels he’d hidden down there than have anyone else claim what was his.”
The servants looked between each other nervously. One even came forward and touched the newly exposed ground. “It’s hard. Can we break through it with a pick and mattock if given enough time?”
Oliver shook his head. “I doubt your chances. The duke was a very thorough man. Whatever was down there is lost or at least ruined by the cement.”
Leopold jumped off the step, releasing the knob, and the chain in Tobias’ fingers jerked. He slowly let it go and the floor resealed itself as if it had never been opened.
Leopold set his hands to his hips. “I want you all gone from Romsey—every last one of you. Never come back here.” He shoved his hand in his coat pocket and threw a wad of notes and coins across the floor. “Consider that your reference. Now get out.”
Some snatched up the money and bolted for the servants stairs. Wilcox lingered, his expression stricken. “How could he have done that?”
“As with everything. Because he could.” Tobias crossed the room in three long strides and caught Wilcox by his cravat. He lifted the butler from the ground. “You knew what was going on all along and played us for fools?”
“Mr. Randall,” he squeaked, struggling for his release. “You misunderstand.”
“Oh, I don’t think I do. Your life is over, but I’ll allow my eldest brother to take the first shot. There’s a nice tree on Romsey’s front drive that we can lash you to.”
“Tempting, but a body could prove to be a problem,” Oliver advised seriously. “Better to turn him off without a reference than follow the duke’s example of destroying everyone that crossed him. A man Wilcox’s age should do poorly away from here.”
Although the urge to throttle him remained, Tobias let the butler go. He didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize his future with Blythe. As long as Wilcox and the others left, he could curb his need for revenge. But if they ever came near Romsey again, he’d make them wish they hadn’t.
Footsteps pounded down the main staircase as Leopold’s valet and Eamon Murphy joined them, brandishing pistols. Wilcox took one look and fled.
Leopold cocked his head. “Follow them and make sure they take nothing.” He cleared his throat. “I, ah, owe you and Lady Venables an apology. You were both correct about Wilcox and I didn’t pay either of you enough heed. Forgive me.”
“I do hate to say I told you so, Leopold,” Tobias laughed.
He glanced at Blythe and, caught the quick grin spreading over her face. That apology would go a long way to making her feel wanted.
“Tobias, I am sure you can be more gracious than that,” she said with a straight face.
He thought about it for a moment and then grinned. “I shall be guided by you, my lady.”
She laughed and took her nephew from Mercy. “I’ll take him up to bed and stay with him until you arrive. Come along Edwin. Let us see if we can find that pirate tale you like so much.”
They hurried up the grand staircase without looking back and Tobias wished he could join them. But he wanted to see Oliver settled for the night and ensure they were all safe.
Leopold rubbed his head. “We’d bette
r check they are not stealing everything that isn’t nailed down.”
Tobias rubbed his hands together. “Shall we chase them out?”
Oliver grinned. “Give them ten minutes before you start. Every last one is a coward. Odds are most ran straight outside as if the devil himself chased them.”
“We have some time then,” Leopold said, directing them into the library. “I have many questions.”
Oliver sat with a sigh and looked around at the crammed bookshelves. “I used to dream about this library,” he whispered.
Tobias chuckled. He hadn’t taken much notice of the chamber Oliver had been in at Skepington, but it had seemed a bit bare of necessities. For Oliver, books would be considered a necessity. They might have a hard time removing him from this room later.
Tobias poured them all drinks and settled into a chair, his heart full of love for his brothers. He raised his glass. “To family.”
“To new adventures,” Oliver said. He smiled and sipped his drink. “Do you realize this is likely smuggled goods?”
“About that,” Leopold began. “How did we become involved?”
“My fault.” Oliver smiled sadly. “By my calculations, the duke was too rich for his lands. When I showed an interest in architecture, Father provided me with what I needed and the plans for Romsey Abbey. He, too, was curious about the estate and our family history. But the plans for Romsey Abbey did not match the building I walked through. My mistake was revealing that fact to our father and discussing my theories of a large space concealed beneath. He must have been a little too obvious about his questions and we all paid the price.”
“What did the Duke of Romsey do to you?”
Oliver closed his eyes. “He sent a physician to our school, provided them with proof that he was my guardian, and then claimed I was insane. Being a duke, I’m certain they were afraid to disagree with him. He delivered me to Bedlam, despite my protests that I would never tell. A year later, when he’d softened a touch, I was moved to Skepington. My contact with the outside world was cut off after that.”
Forsaking the Prize Page 25
