“Go where?” Mercy demanded. “If one is not safe in one’s home then we’d have little chance upon the road.”
Blythe sighed heavily. “I suppose you are right, but I do not like to leave all the decisions about Edwin’s safety to thi
s Mr. Randall. He has taken control of the duke’s life far too easily.”
“His own life is in danger, too,” Mercy reminded her. “He is a Randall and my son’s heir. Who knows what that deranged fellow wants with Edwin, but he could very well turn his attention on Leopold. I could not bear it if he should be hurt in the defense of us. His family has suffered enough.”
“Must you speak so informally of Mr. Randall?” Blythe fussed with her peach silk wrapper. “You encourage him to overstep his bounds at every turn.”
What would Blythe say if she confessed she’d thought of little else but Leopold for the whole day? What would Blythe do if Mercy confessed she was considering marriage to him? “Family cannot overstep, Blythe.”
A scowl crossed Blythe’s face. “Well, since all seems in order now, perhaps you should get some sleep while you can. If the intruder hasn’t been run off completely, then he surely will be gone for the rest of the night.”
Mercy slewed around to stare at her sister. “Are you not afraid?”
Blythe blinked. “Of course I am afraid. But there is no sense in getting hysterical over something I cannot control. I learned that lesson years ago. You should do better to control your anxiety from those around you, especially around Edwin. You will make him prone to fret.”
Mercy gaped. Even in the midst of danger, Blythe thought to give her a lesson in raising her child. Damn it all if that didn’t make her see red. She might be correct that she should hide her emotions better in front of her son, but when this was over the pair of them were going to sit down and thrash out their differences. She would not tolerate this any longer.
When Blythe lay down on the bed next to Edwin, curling her arm over him protectively as he slept, Mercy’s heart gave a thump. She was so very good with Edwin that if anything ever happened to Mercy she could be assured Edwin would have her love and support in the years to come. It was the only thing keeping her sane.
That and the journals. Together, she and Blythe had begun work on the code, finding surprising translations for names. Using the dates and Blythe’s idea of using the family bible for reference, they had determined that the duke referred to women as flowers. Mercy had been dubbed Poppy. Her mother-in-law he called Ivy. And someone, Mercy couldn’t determine who yet, was called Blackberry and mentioned extensively in Edwin’s book. Not a nice way to think of a woman. She must be an utter termagant and someone the duke disliked immensely.
Males were named a little differently. The old duke had had a very religious view on them. He referred to his son as a fallen angel by the end of his life; the stranger in her bed he termed Lucifer, the devil. None of it was proof absolute that Leopold had been that man. But the dates matched what little Mercy knew of his birth year. It was a fairly obvious conclusion to her that he was the one. Did she care now?
No.
Mercy pressed the heel of her hands to her eyes. She wanted this ordeal to be over so she could get on with her life, find Leopold’s brothers and sister, and be happy once more.
She was so tired of being afraid. She dropped her hands, crossed to the bed, and lay down beside her son. Tomorrow she would speak to Blythe and Leopold about the past. With luck, her life would begin to move forward from then.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Leopold staggered as a small pair of arms wrapped around his legs and prevented him from moving forward. He’d had a long and frustrating night and hadn’t noticed Edwin barreling across the room toward him. He glanced down at the boy and his heart skipped a beat. He could not get used to such greetings, but he did enjoy Edwin’s enthusiastic displays of affection.
Reluctantly, he pried Edwin’s arms from his legs. “Good morning, Your Grace. How are you this morning?”
“Good.” He replied excitedly. “I want to show you my generals.” Edwin grabbed his hand and drew him further into his play room. Leopold looked around, spied Mercy smiling and Lady Venables scowling, and let go of the boy’s hand before they reached their destination.
“Good morning, Your Grace. Lady Venables,” he said quickly.
Mercy approached. “What happened last night? I’ve been worried sick.”
Leopold checked that the boy was far enough away to not overhear them. “The bastard climbed the walls of the abbey. I’d like to say we almost caught him but I’d be lying. He’s a phantom.”
Mercy wilted against him, while her sister gasped. Thankfully, Lady Venables turned her attention to her nephew and fussed with him as Leopold carefully embraced Mercy to calm her down. “It will be all right. We know now what he is capable of and just how determined he is to reach you both.”
Mercy burrowed her face against his chest. “I was so scared for you all alone out there.”
He held her closer, keeping one eye on Lady Venables and Edwin. “For me? Why? I was hardly alone. The whole damn village was out there.”
“You know why,” Mercy whispered. “Don’t make me say it where my sister can hear. She will screech the building down and likely say something very cutting.”
Leopold’s heart raced at Mercy’s protectiveness. He had done nothing to deserve it. Reluctantly, he stepped away from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” Mercy wiped at her eyes and he was astounded that she’d been worried enough for tears. “Do you really have no idea what you’ve become to me?”
He held up his hands in supplication. “Stop. It’s just the stress you’ve been under. When the danger has passed you will see you were mistaken and will regret your words.”