Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

“Clever, but not smart enough. We must catch them at it.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“Leopold, do you think I could not defend myself against one man in an unfair fight? Or even two? I evaded the entire estate staff for days. Nothing bad will happen to me.”

Leopold frowned. “Does nothing frighten you?”

Losing Rosie had terrified him. After that, everything else was easy. “I’m numb.”

As Leopold strode back toward the duchess, another disturbing thought occurred to Tobias. Today was the first day that he had shown an interest in the contents of the duke’s sanctuary. What if the chamber held secrets the culprit didn’t want to come to light? But in what manner could his interest influence events at Romsey Abbey?

He’d been tossed away like refuse in the harbor only to have the sea toss him back again. If not for chance, and a shipwreck, he might still be on the far side of the world.

Seven

Blythe attempted to control the fast pounding of her heart, but it wasn’t working very well. She was still considered the enemy, still held under suspicion by Leopold Randall. Tobias Randall seemed to believe in her innocence. The irony of that astounded her.

She glanced across at where the men were speaking. For a change, Tobias appeared to be leading the discussion rather than bearing the brunt of another lecture. The tall man was as serious as she had ever seen him. He exuded confidence and tightly controlled anger. His whole frame was tense with it.

“What are we going to do? I thought this was all over.” Mercy set her head on Blythe’s shoulder. “I thought having more people staying at Romsey might convince this lunatic to go away, but I was wrong.”

Blythe had hoped for that, too. “Whoever it is has likely been watching. Waiting for their next chance.” Blythe set her head against her sister’s, drawing comfort from the familiar gesture. “Your Leopold is a man of routine and order, as are we.”

Mercy sat up suddenly. “That is true. I like my little routines with Edwin and Leopold has fallen into mine quite easily. I need to be more erratic. I need to catch whoever it is.”

Blythe caught her sister’s arms and gave her a little shake. “What you need to do is protect your son, not chase after shadows. We must gain the upper hand. If you promise to keep to your routines with Edwin, I can be the erratic one. A headache here and there, a forgotten shawl to be fetched from upstairs. Any excuse to catch this criminal before they can cause you more distress.”

Mercy clutched at Blythe’s fingers. “You could be hurt.”

It already hurt to see Mercy so scared. Her sister had always been the strong one. “I’ll be fine. If you are truly worried, you could ask Leopold if I may have his small pistol to keep about me. I may never be able to shoot anyone, but it does make a remarkable amount of noise. Perhaps I can scare them away.”

“You truly are a terrible shot.” Mercy shook her head. “I can’t. This is my problem. My responsibility is to look after the best interests of the duchy.”

“You also need to be here for Edwin until he reaches his majority. Stay close to him. This is the best way to ensure that happens.”

“What are you two debating?” Leopold Randall asked, his scowl fierce as he joined them.

Before Blythe could answer, Tobias joined them. “I imagine the countess is telling her sister to stay close to the boy while she investigates the matter herself. She’s got that single-minded expression on her face again.” Tobias’ gaze fell on her and lingered. Blythe stared back.

Leopold shook his head. “It is far too dangerous. She could be hurt.”

“I don’t think mere words are going to change her mind,” Tobias said. “Give her your small pistol then for protection if you want to help.”

“Not a chance of it,” Leopold spluttered.

Blythe stood. “It is ill mannered to speak of someone when they are right before you and to believe they have no say in what you decide. Excuse me.”

She didn’t really need a pistol for protection. She wasn’t that confident of her ability to actually shoot at a man, but she’d keep her sewing scissors about her at all times. Who knew when such an innocent thing could be used to her advantage? But they were back in the drawing room. She’d have to fetch them now. As she turned away, Tobias Randall called out to her to wait.

Blythe kept walking. These Randall’s were bossy creatures. Go. Stay. Wait. Etcetera. She’d been looking out for Mercy’s interests for more years than she could count. She didn’t need a man to tell her what to do.

Tobias Randall fell into step beside her, his breath a rough pant from the exertion of running to catch up with her. “We should pair up.”

Blythe stopped. “I beg your pardon.” For a change, the pirate wasn’t grinning. There was no sly twist to his lips to hint at another meaning.

“I think we should work together on the contents of the duke’s sanctuary to discover who is stalking Mercy,” he said.

“The two are not connected.”