Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls 3)

Mercy’s gaze swung around the room, a small frown line forming between her brows but smoothed away when she’d finished her inspection. “Nothing for me, but I thought I might be of use to you.”

Beth threw a quick glance at Lady Venables but the countess gave nothing away. “Oh?”

“I have friends, ones I have not seen in many years, residing in America that I should like you to call upon if you encounter any problems in your new life.” She pulled a letter from her pocket and held it out. “Ducky is a dear friend, much involved in society in Boston. This letter of introduction will ensure you’re looked after and I’ve asked him to provide the means to send you home to us should you request it.”

Beth swallowed at the duchess’s unexpected generosity. At every turn the woman had proven herself a kind and thoughtful friend. She knew that Beth’s greatest fear was to be without means to protect herself and her son. In the New World, she wouldn’t know anyone but Henry and his as-yet-undisclosed acquaintances. What if they were separated from him?

She shivered as she took the note. “Thank you. I do not know what I’ve done to deserve your favor, but I treasure your gift most certainly.”

Mercy moved forward and embraced her. “I cannot bear the thought of you going away. You’ve come to mean so much to me, to all of us, that I hate to say goodbye.”

She squeezed Beth as if she would never let her go. Beth closed her eyes, moved to tears and unable to prevent them from spilling over. “I will miss you, too.”

“If you ever wish return home to England we’ll be waiting for you with open arms,” the duchess whispered close to her ear.

“Thank you, Mercy.” Beth blubbered, unable to remain formal in the face of such obvious affection. “I will.”

Mercy released her and caught her face between her hands. Tears slid down the duchess’s cheeks unattended. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With one last hug, Mercy hurried out the door, a sniff and a sob drifting to Beth’s ears just before the door closed.

Lady Venables shook her head. “You’ll have to forgive her tears. Mercy never likes to part from friends and in her condition she’s less likely to refrain from saying what’s on her mind.”

Beth frowned. “Her condition?”

A sly smile twisted the countess’s lips. “I believe she may be with child, though she’s not said a word. However, her emotions are running high right now because of you and Oliver leaving, so allowances for her theatrics must be made. For myself, I never noticed my emotions changing one way or another during my confinement.”

Beth thought back over her pregnancies, wondering if she could remember how it felt to have a life growing inside her. The memory was vague, but she thought she’d never been happier. “Now I feel worse for leaving at such a time, my lady.”

“Blythe,” Lady Venables corrected. “There is no point in adhering to the formalities now.”

More tears raced down Beth’s cheeks and she quickly dabbed them away.

“Mercy is more worried about your happiness, and I must say I agree with her,” Blythe said as she picked up a wrapped parcel and began to uncover it. “With some difficulty, I have pried information from Tobias about life both at sea and in America and he has some suggestions for you. The first, keep my sister’s letter on your person at all times, including any money you have. It is far too easy to become separated from your baggage and the docks are rife with pickpockets.”

Beth glanced at her gown. If her pockets were not safe from thieves, where else could she hide her few valuables?

Seeming to read Beth’s mind, Blythe picked up the muff and gloves and set them aside. “Not inside something so easily discarded or lost as these.” When Blythe picked up her warmest pelisse and studied the garment, Beth drew closer. “This could be the perfect hiding place. However, you would always need to wear it during your travels.”

Fear of pickpockets and thieves filled her mind. Beth agreed quickly. “I can do that.”

Blythe examined the stitching. “If we unstitch the hem here in the front, we’ll be able to make concealed pockets for some of your valuables. Also here at the sleeve cuff. Show me what you will take with you.”

Beth scrambled for her meager collection of coins and her wedding ring. She laid them out on the bed, set Mercy’s letter of introduction beside them, and stood back. There really was little value in her possessions. Most items she had were sentimental rather than financially valuable. The lack caused a blush to climb her cheeks.

Blythe removed a narrow length of blue silk from her pocket and unwound it slowly. When she was done, two thin ties could be seen and it issued an odd crinkling sound. “Another of Tobias’s suggestions. Wear this belt tied about your waist snugly, beneath your gown, and don’t let anyone know of it.”

She held out the strip and Beth took it, examining the belt’s construction. Two long ties, a thicker section in the middle, and long enough to tie about her waist and wear in reasonable comfort. She saw an opening and peered inside a cleverly designed pocket. The edges of paper notes could be seen. Her heart raced as she checked each pocket in turn. The whole belt was filled with more money than she had ever had in her life. She handed it back. “I gladly accept the belt, but nothing else.”

Blythe sighed and refused to take it. “My gift to you is the means of hearing you are well. Some of it is paper to write upon. Do you honestly believe Henry Turner will allow you to correspond with a duchess for whom he barely hides his contempt? I do not. Take the money so you may at least be able to write to us to say you are well and happy. The way George reads, you may need the remainder to feed his intellectual appetite.”

Beth could see the sense in her suggestion, but yet again, she was taking charity. It had never sat well with her. Would she ever have the means to repay them? If not for George, she would refuse outright. But she did have a son to consider and he counted on her to make his world right. She curled her fingers over the belt and held it tightly. “Thank you.”

Blythe quickly embraced her and then set her hands to her hips, glance sliding to the bed. “We’ve a lot to do today.”

Beth shook her head. “There’s no need. I’ll be fine on my own, thanks to your suggestion.”

“Nonsense. I’ll not listen to Mercy’s weeping for the entire day.” Blythe laughed. “Besides, I’d enjoy spending one more day with you. George is otherwise occupied, isn’t he?”