Engaging the Enemy (The Wild Randalls 1)

Now that was a surprise. Leopold could not remember seeing Blythe smile at all but it might take him a while to get used to his younger brother having an interest in the fairer sex. He wasn’t sure how Blythe would care for Tobias’ admiration either. Watching the two of them together could be interesting. When he’d known his brother before, he’d been young and had cared only for his hound and horses. Now, they were virtually strangers and would need to become reacquainted. Perhaps it would be best to limit Tobias’ association with Blythe until he lost some of his rough edges.

Tobias shuffled from the room, bowed to Mercy. “Is he well, Your Grace?”

“He is wonderful,” Mercy said as she laid her hand on Tobias’ arm. “Thank you for rescuing my son. Now, have that cut seen too. Wilcox will take care of you.”

“Leopold was correct before in the drawing room. You do the family proud.”

Mercy scowled at him. “How long were you listening and where were you?”

“Long enough to hear my brother gush over your beauty.” He glanced at the bed. “Are all the women in your family so pretty?”

Mercy shook her head. “Well, you are certainly a different kettle of fish than your brother. Honey drips from your tongue.”

Tobias pressed his lips together hard, eyes alight with mischief. “If I tell you what image your words evoked, I fear my brother would indeed kill me. I’d best take my leave of you. Until another time, Your Grace.”

When he followed Wilcox down the hall and out of sight, Leopold’s gaze moved to Mercy and Edwin where they stood clutching at each other. His heart swelled as he listened to Mercy and Edwin. His family. The two loves that would break him.

How would he bear not knowing how they fared?

Leopold took them in his arms and squeezed. They were everything to him now, his reason for living, his reason for breathing. But could he stay here with them on the outside of their lives, pretending to be happy with the arrangement and always wanting more?

Yet, the longer he stayed, the greater the chance of Mercy conceiving. She couldn’t bear his child outside of marriage without facing utter ruin and he couldn’t ask her to marry him and give up her title to become his wife. So where did that leave them? His heart might break in two, but he would have to go on pretending he was happy as a cousin.

Edwin wriggled, as if to get down. When Leopold moved to give him space, Edwin jumped into his arms, clinging with a tight grip about his neck, and hung onto him as if he would never let go. His eyes stung with unshed tears and he closed his eyes at how much he wanted to remain with Mercy and Edwin.

“There now. Isn’t that so much better?” Mercy said. “You have family now, Edwin. One big, wild family. We will likely never be lonely or bored again.”

Leopold looked beyond Mercy to where Blythe lay all alone. “What do you want done about your sister, sweetheart?”

Mercy’s smile dimmed. “I’m not sure what to do or think about Blythe’s actions anymore. But we should send for Dr. Heyburn. The physician can decide if Blythe’s health is in any immediate danger.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mercy paced the hall outside the bedchamber where Blythe had been carried. Dr. Heyburn had been in there for an hour or more now and she was long past the point of merely worrying for her sister’s health. Shouldn’t she have roused by now?

Mercy had no idea what to do, but she couldn’t leave her spot outside the door until she heard his prognosis. She had asked Leopold to take care of their son while she waited on the doctor, and he’d been happy to put Edwin to bed. Tobias was downstairs somewhere, watched over by Wilcox and another footman, and she wanted to speak to him before nightfall.

Dr. Heyburn stepped into the hall and shut the door firmly behind him. “She is unchanged, Your Grace.”

Mercy put her hand to her throat. “Surely there is some sign that she will come back to herself soon.”

“Her heart beats strongly. Her skin is warm. But her gaze is unfocussed, as if she sleeps.”

He sat his little bag on a table and removed a bottle. “I have given a bottle of this remedy to the maid inside; I’ll leave another with the housekeeper before I go. She is to drizzle a spoonful into Lady Venables’ mouth on the hour, every hour, until I return tomorrow.”

Mercy turned the bottle over in her hands, wondering what the concoction would do for her sister. The bottle was unremarkable in appearance and she handed it back to the doctor. “Is there anything else that can be done tonight?”

He shook his head. “From what little you’ve told me, she’s suffered a fright of some kind. Once she’s had time to rest, she may very well wake on her own with no ill effects suffered. If she does not wake on her own, I will begin more vigorous treatments to rouse her.”

Mercy swallowed, afraid of what that might mean. She’d had little experience with doctors and their treatments, but if he thought such measures were required, she would have to consider them. She hadn’t told Heyburn about what Tobias Randall had done to bring Blythe to the point of collapse. Keeping quiet about the terror Tobias had caused spared his reputation. And Blythe would hate to be involved in any gossip concerning him so Mercy held her tongue. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect her family. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. May I see my sister now?”

He smiled kindly. “I

cannot see why not? Try not to become too agitated by her state. The care of the sick can tax a woman’s strength of will and cause a similar state in a perfectly happy woman.”

Mercy blinked. Did the man think women were feeble minded? It was rare Mercy heard opinions of this kind voiced in her presence. Did he realize he’d just insulted a duchess with his remarks? When he bowed, picked up his hat and hurried away, Mercy glared after him. She had thought him an open-minded fellow once upon a time.

She stepped into her sister’s room. Blythe lay in the center of the large bed, hair unbound; face smooth as if in sleep. Mercy moved toward the bed.