Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

Well, at least that confirmed why Blythe rushed off today. She’d want to have her affairs in order and be as prepared as possible before such a man arrived. He couldn’t imagine a woman of her caliber enjoying an interrogation of how she lived her life. Perhaps she wasn’t too mad about the kiss after all. Maybe she hadn’t given the matter another thought as indeed she’d claimed.

His chest tightened. A pity

. He couldn’t get their kiss out of his mind. Could he have kissed her at the stream without her protesting? He grinned; maybe fate would give him another chance to find out.

He wandered from the house, sent the groom inside to the kitchen then crossed the courtyard to check on his boots. Far too wet to wear yet and his stockings were still damp. He spread them out again and then headed for a protected spot to spread the blanket.

Seeing servants at Harrowdale made his heart race as memories of his childhood rose restlessly. There had been a gardener then, too. An old man, deeply attached to Harrowdale’s fruit trees and flower beds. Three maids, a butler, and two stable hands for their two horses and the old grey pony he’d learned to ride on.

His father had been fortunate to have had ample means to support the property and his family, but they hadn’t been wealthy by any stretch of the imagination.

Tobias set his arms on the top of his raised knees. He’d been happy then, and painfully ignorant of the dangerous undercurrent of hostility emanating from the Duke of Romsey. He knew now how fortunate he’d been back then. At least then, someone had cared where he was, what he’d eaten that day, and whether he’d slept well that night. Those small reminders that he’d been loved unconditionally once rose to choke him. He lowered his head to his arms and fought the urge to weep over his lost innocence.

Light footsteps approached, but he didn’t raise his head. He couldn’t. Not until he was in control of his emotions better. The long skirts of Blythe’s dark blue gown brushed across his bare feet as she adjusted the blanket. When she sat, she was close enough for him to see her hand where it lay in her lap.

“You have a wonderful home. So peaceful.”

He didn’t answer her. His home had once been a noisy affair. The silence unnerved him.

Blythe sighed. “Thank you for allowing me to use your home, Tobias. You are a very generous man.”

He lifted his head. Blythe stared at the house, her expression relaxed but weary. He much preferred her smiling. He lifted his hand to brush his fingers across her cheek. “Please don’t let that information be passed around or else I’ll be overrun by ladies with questionable relatives.”

She leaned into his touch. “Being known for generosity is an accomplishment for a gentleman,” she sighed and sat up straight once more. “Unfortunately, I cannot tell anyone of the service you’ve rendered me today. The gossip would be quite awful and it could reach Venables ears. He would demand Adam’s things returned to his questionable keeping.”

Tobias dropped his hand. “He can try.”

She twisted to face him, knees drawing up beneath her skirts. “He would be within his rights. But at least Mercy is spared any involvement in my problems.”

He shook his head. This woman was always trying to avoid creating a fuss. “But it isn’t a decent thing to do to you. I’ll bear the brunt should it become known. Being accused of theft shouldn’t surprise anyone.”

“It would surprise anyone who knows you.”

Tobias chuckled. “Careful, B. You’re encouraging me again without meaning to.”

She dropped her gaze to the grass between them. Devil take it! When she didn’t contradict his observation he was very encouraged. Her hand lifted from the ground and then she touched his ankle, right where the worst of his scars were. Tobias quickly tucked his unsightly scars under his other thigh, out of sight again, his pulse racing.

“You suffered greatly at the duke’s hands, didn’t you?”

More than he cared to let on. Life aboard the East India Company ship the old duke had sent him to, the Williamstown, hadn’t been easy. The short-lived capture by the French a brief reprieve. But service on the Williamstown paled in comparison to the horror of service aboard the slaver, Enid Wren. The slaver captain had been a truly vicious man and had demanded immediate obedience from his crew. At first, Tobias hadn’t been quick enough.

He shrugged to shake off his sudden unease. “Tis not a discussion for a lady to hear, B. I won’t distress you by relating the tale.”

Blythe didn’t need to know the truth of the matter. He’d healed and, if given enough time, he may even begin to forget the painful bite of leather beating across his bare skin and shackles around his ankles. The duke was gone and he was the only one Tobias could have taken revenge on. The time for seeking retribution was over. He had to put the past behind him. He would when Rosemary and Oliver were found. If they were ever recovered.

Blythe’s fingers clenched together. “How did you get the scars on your back?”

He tensed in shock. He’d no idea how she’d learned of them or why she would bring them up. “I trusted the wrong person and paid the price.”

“Do they hurt at all?”

Tobias ground his jaw. He didn’t want to discuss them, least of all with Blythe. He stood. “Excuse me. I should go and see what is keeping your housekeeper.”

Eleven

“Wait, Toby.” Blythe grabbed his ankle to stop him leaving. She should not have brought up what must be a painful matter for him. She couldn’t understand why she’d asked. But the rough, imperfect skin beneath her fingers caused her heart to skip a beat. He’d endured so much that she was embarrassed by her behavior. Who was she to lecture him about how to live his life when he’d been lucky to survive to have one? “I’m sorry for prying. Please sit down. Look the tea is coming and Finch has gone to so much trouble today that I would hate to disappoint her by quarrelling with you.”

He hesitated, and then wrenched his ankle from her grip. Blythe rubbed her hands together, but she could still feel the uneven bumps and roughness as if she was still touching him. When he sat cross legged, he positioned himself a little farther away on the grass than he had previously been, his brows drawn together.