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Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

Page 32

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excuse as any to follow her upstairs. He grinned. Maybe he could catch her in the middle of changing.

He tugged on a button of his waistcoat that he’d noticed earlier was loose. It gave slightly after a few determined tugs and he left it dangling in place.

He cleared his throat to gain the love struck pair’s attention. “I’ve lost a button. Excuse me. I’ll go find Murphy and change before dinner.”

“Fine. Fine. Don’t take too long,” Leopold replied, without taking his gaze from his future wife.

Tobias strode out of the room and pulled the doors closed behind him. As he straightened, he clearly heard Mercy. “He is as handsome as his elder brother. I’m sure tomorrow night will be a success.”

“I’ll agree with you if we can get through the evening unscathed,” his brother replied. “Are you still determined to try your hand at matchmaking? I warn you, he may not thank you for it.”

“Oh, Leopold, you worry too much. I am sure Tobias will be very well received, just as you will be once everyone meets you. Blythe will be on hand, too, and will help smooth any ruffled feathers an incautious remark might cause. I’m sure some young lady will catch his eye. I should like to see him happier.”

“If Blythe can be persuaded to support him then I’m sure that is the best I can hope for. But it is clear she’s uncomfortable around my brother,” Leopold sighed. “Do not push for the other. If he wishes to wed it will be by his choice alone. Let him be. It is enough for me to have him here.”

Whatever else might have been said was spoken in too low a tone for Tobias to hear clearly. He moved away from the door, but uncertainty gripped him. It was important that tomorrow night’s outing go off without a hitch for Leopold’s sake especially. He hoped he didn’t embarrass his brother, but he would avoid Mercy’s traps and snares. If he married, he’d choose his own wife.

He climbed the stairs as a morose sense of inevitability gripped him. He was out of practice with polite conversation, if he’d ever indulged in the feat at all. Out of his depth. He needed help from someone without malice or a hidden agenda. He could ask Blythe to help him tonight. She surely wouldn’t want her sister made uncomfortable by his mistakes.

His boots made no noise as he strode along the corridor leading to his bedchamber. The carpets were so thick in this part of the house that he didn’t need to make the effort to be silent at all. And that was why he was able to approach the unmoving figure ahead of him, the one lingering outside Blythe’s doorway, without being detected.

He set his hand to Wilcox’s shoulder. “Lost, are you?”

Wilcox jumped out of his skin, set one hand to his chest as he gasped. “Don’t do that ever again, young man. You frightened me to death.”

Tobias raised a brow. He’d shocked Wilcox completely for him to speak so out of character. Or was he behaving in character at last?

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing, lingering outside the countess’ bedchamber?”

The butler’s expression grew sly. “Her Grace asked me to determine how clearly sound traveled from the guest chamber you occupy to the hallway, and to the rooms on either side.”

Tobias glanced at his doorway. No light shone beneath his door. “But no one should be in there so there is nothing to hear.”

“I know that now. But since the countess has returned so unexpectedly, I was using her presence as a test.”

“And what were your findings?”

Wilcox scowled. “I could not hear her, or she speaks very softly.”

“Good, because from where I’m standing, you, sir, are spying on a lady in a most disturbing way. Do it again and I’ll speak to Her Grace about the matter.”

Wilcox spluttered. “I did no such thing. I heard nothing.”

“Be that as it may, you should not be here. Go about your usual duties.”

Wilcox’s skin darkened to a deep red. After a long pause, he stormed off.

Tobias tapped on Blythe’s door. “May I have a word, Lady Venables?”

The door creaked open and light steamed out into the hall. When his eyes adjusted to the greater illumination, he caught a glimpse of Blythe’s face through the gap.

“What do you want now, Mr. Randall?”

“We need to speak privately. Tonight. I’ve just caught Wilcox listening at your door.”

Blythe struck her head further out into the hall and he caught a glimpse of what she was wearing. Color. No black or dark shade, but a pretty blue gown he’d never seen on her before tonight. Instead of the usual buttoned up attire, Blythe was dressed for a ball. Was this what she’d be wearing tomorrow night?

She frowned. “What exactly was he doing?”



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