Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

She lifted her hand and touched his chest. His warmth filled her with a yearning to be held tight in his arms.

“Because thinking of your body so close to mine aroused me.” He touched her unbound hair and sifted the strands between his fingers. “Seeing you like this isn’t helping either.”

He stepped back suddenly and bowed.

“Goodnight, beautiful lady. I promise to be a better man tomorrow.”

Then he was gone, slipping from her chamber and leaving her more confused than ever. She dropped onto the dresser stool, astonished to be disappointed that Tobias had gone away.

Nineteen

Tobias swirled the remaining whiskey around the bottom of his glass, admiring the rich color before he swallowed it whole. The Duke of Romsey possessed a truly good cellar. One of these days, he should check how large a stock he kept. A pity Edwin was four years old and too young to enjoy his own beverages. Maybe later, when he’d grown up to be a man, they could get roaring drunk together. Perhaps, if he was still around he would.

He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, delaying his departure a few more minutes. He was not quite ready to pay a social call to his dance partner of the previous evening, as good manners dictated he should. Too many thoughts preyed on his mind and he required the scant comfort whiskey offered to sweeten his sour mood.

Heavy footsteps crossed the room, coming toward him. “Was that another gentleman caller for Lady Venables?”

Tobias sighed, opening his eyes to view his brother. “Yes, I believe so.”

Blythe was responsible, indirectly, for his foul mood. She had gentlemen almost lining up their carriages along the driveway to see her today. The word had spread that she’d cast off her mourning and the fellows who’d danced with her last night, and the ones who hadn’t attended the soiree, had come to call. Rich, titled men who could afford to keep her in the style she was accustomed to. He hadn’t known his financial situation bothered him so much until today.

From what he could see from his vantage point in the library, the admirers were near to panting in anticipation. He could understand their hope to spend more time with the woman—but he didn’t like it which was why he was holed up in the library drowning in regrets. Blythe wasn’t for him and he was certain to hear a marriage announcement very soon.

Leopold eased into a nearby chair with a groan. “I was thinking of going over to Harrowdale tomorrow to see what must be done to make the place livable. Would you care to come with me?”

Tobias poured another drink before he answered. How could he hide Blythe’s things from Leopold if he was set on an inspection of Harrowdale? He downed the glass as he considered the possibilities. Leopold was the sort of man to view a house from top to bottom and side to side before he made any final decisions. He needed to keep his brother away from Harrowdale until Blythe had settled on who she’d wed or reclaimed her property. “I can manage whatever might be required for Harrowdale. You have enough on your plate as it is. I’ve been there a few times now and I know the work ahead of me. The roof is sound, windows intact. All that’s required is a thorough clean and the laying in of stores for winter. During the spring and summer months I’ll work on improving the gardens. They’re a little wild these days.”

“You’re certain you wish to live there alone so soon.” Leopold eyed the whiskey bottle at his elbow with a frown, clearly disapproving. “You’ll need servants.”

“I’m looking forward to living at Harrowdale again. The place suits me. As for servants, I won’t need many nor can I afford to keep them.”

Leopold poured himself a whiskey, shifting the bottle out of Tobias’ reach in the process. “You would need more servants should you marry. We can talk about it then. Women like to have assistance and the company.”

“That is true. Women like to have their comforts.”

“So, are you seriously considering marriage?”

Tobias glanced away, uncomfortable but knowing the conversation was necessary. Did he want to live alone for his entire life? A tavern wench might relieve his needs, but a wife would provide some companionship every day and prevent him from turning into a crusty old bachelor. He liked the idea of coming home to Harrowdale and having someone waiting to see him. “I might be.”

“Good. We don’t want you to be alone your whole life.”

Tobias regarded his brother steadily. “We?”

Leopold grinned. “Mercy has it in her head to make a match for you. You could do well with her help.”

“The only thing the woman requires is a friendly disposition, a healthy dowry, and a strong stomach,” Tobias said bitterly.

Leopold frowned. “You’re worried about how your scars will be received? I’m sure the right woman will overlook the injuries you sustained if you take her into your confidence.”

“Optimist.” Tobias crossed to the window facing the south gardens, enjoying the way the world swayed and then slowly righted itself again. Blythe had touched his scars and not run screaming. Perhaps Miss Trimble would view them without revulsion, too? What would a young lady think of his past if he confessed the worst of it to her?

He stared at the gardens wondering what it took to court a proper lady. Leopold’s lessons had not touched upon the subject near enough. He’d have to embarrass himself and likely ask something that should be obvious to others. But he supposed the first step in any courtship was the paying of calls, even in the rain.

A light drizzle was falling, bathing the grounds in fine mist. In the distance, he could see Beth and her boy, George, walking away from the abbey together. Beth Turner had settled when she couldn’t marry the man she’d loved. How easily had Beth reconciled herself to her second choice for a husband? He turned to Leopold. “How is Beth adjusting to life at the abbey?”

“Well, I believe. Wilcox will tell me if there are any problems.”

Beth wouldn’t tell anyone if she was unhappy. She was the sort to keep her problems to herself, no matter how heartbreaking they might be. “And the boy?”