Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls 3)

Leopold’s sigh was heavy with disappointment. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

Oliver glanced over his shoulder, searching for their tardy younger brother and Eamon Murphy so this discussion could be diverted to something else. Since the pair hadn’t stopped chattering and bickering the whole of the walk, Oliver was confident that Leopold would join their conversation—if only to shut them up. “I did not mean to imply that I disliked solitude. It’s just that I have reconciled myself to the idea that few share my interests.”

“Part of that blame must fall on you,” Leopold said with deadly seriousness. “You have taken little interest in anyone else’s affairs since you were a boy. In general, people like to talk about themselves, too. But you will not take the time to listen.”

Oliver faced him. “And you take enough interest in everyone’s business for the pair of us.”

Leopold stabbed a finger toward his brother’s chest. “Stop avoiding the subject. At least I allow myself to care about the welfare of others and receive affection and companionship in return. I see what you’re doing and you’re going to be a bloody miserable old bastard one day. Far sooner than needs be. Do you never wish for more?”

Eamon Murphy, who’d lagged behind with Tobias, rushed up to them. “Here now. What’s all this?”

Oliver shrugged. “My elder brother is lecturing me.”

Leopold stalked to the precipice in a huff.

“Again. Devil take it! Can’t you just make a bigger effort to fit in?”

Oliver raised a brow in surprise at Eamon’s outburst. So far he’d been a simpering lapdog without a voice. Now, how to continue his transition into the semblance of his former friend? “Excuse me? Who are you to tell me what to do?”

“You never change,” Eamon said, hands clenched at his sides. “You never try to make other people happy and yet you expect everyone to toe your line. Leopold has been taking the brunt of the consequences for your misbehavior all your life. I should know. I hear everything. Every snub. Every teary young woman you overlooked or spoke down to without thought. Enough is enough. You’ve got all the maids at the abbey utterly terrified of you.”

“He’s right,” Tobias said quietly. “Even I made less of a ripple when I returned and we all know my failings as a gentleman. But you, you’re like an iceberg that has to be navigated. Treacherous to get close to.”

Oliver was relieved to finally have his friend and younger brother speak their minds; he was tired of people tiptoeing around him. He wasn’t exactly enjoying their honesty, however. “Then it is a good thing that I will be leaving soon. You’ll all be at ease then.” He stood, brushed any dirt from his backside, and faced the path winding down the hillside toward the abbey. It didn’t bother him that he was feared. He’d never consciously spoken harshly to anyone. If the servants were too dim-witted to understand that his mind was elsewhere when they interrupted him, then so be it. People couldn’t be made to change.

The odd pair on the drive had drawn closer while he’d endured the scolding. The woman had dark hair, bonnet swinging from her fingers. The smaller figure was a child, a boy he decided, and they both appeared to be headed for the stables.

“For God’s sake, Ollie, don’t be

a daft fool,” Tobias said as he appeared before Oliver, halting his return to the abbey. “Leopold will only worry more when you go. We all will.”

The woman embraced the child before he disappeared into the stables. Oliver squinted at her. There was something familiar in her movements. Her hand lifted, perhaps to brush her hair back from her eyes, and then she entered the kitchen gardens, stopping to speak with the gardener.

“What has captured your attention so completely?” Tobias spun on the spot and viewed the abbey, too. “Trouble?”

The woman had almost fully disappeared behind one wall of the garden and Oliver could only see her uncovered head. He took a pace forward.

“I should like to place an advertisement in the newspaper,” Leopold called out. “Surely there is another academically minded fellow willing to risk his life to visit the continent as your companion. We can easily afford the additional expense of that.”

Oliver nodded. “If you must. That might be agreeable if the person has some sort of decent sense about him.”

“I thought you wanted him to be safe,” Eamon argued. “You never know what kind of scoundrel could answer such an advertisement. They could promise anything. It ain’t hard to procure false letters of recommendation. Believe me, I know. Oliver could be murdered on the road even before he left the country.”

“Murphy, that does not make me feel easy,” Leopold grumbled. “Speak only if you intend to offer up workable suggestions.”

Silence fell behind him as the woman in the garden crouched low, bobbing out of sight, most likely to pick an herb.

After a moment, Tobias faced him. “Are you watching Beth?”

Oliver squinted as the woman stood again. Perhaps it was Elizabeth. But if so, then who was the boy she had embraced? He was too tall to be the young duke.

“Fine,” Eamon said at last. “I’ll travel with him. But if Oliver behaves like a donkey’s hindquarters I get to say so, and loudly.”

“Excellent,” Oliver murmured. Eamon could be counted on to be a good companion. He was useful at bargaining in taverns and remarkably good with his fists. A period of time on the continent could broaden his horizons considerably.

“Oh, and if I’m murdered along the way then I will come back to haunt Tobias as recompense for the trouble he’s caused me,” Eamon warned.

“Here now,” Tobias voiced in outrage. “There’s no need to draw me into this.”