Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

Mercy laughed as she approached him. “Not so urgent that you couldn’t have dried off first. We missed you at luncheon today.”

Blythe had missed him more.

“Sorry. I misjudged the distance to Miss Trimble’s residence and the time the call would take.” Tobias’ gaze flickered about the room restlessly, looking anywhere but at Blythe. “What can I do for you, Your Grace?”

Blythe held herself still, wondering why Tobias wouldn’t look at her. Calling on Miss Trimble was polite, but his behavior troubled her. Had Emma convinced him that she was right to be upset over the dancing last night? She shifted closer to better see his expression.

“Wilcox,” Mercy called. “Please obtain a towel for Mr. Randall before he catches his death.” She ushered him toward the fire and lifted his ruined hat from his hands. “Well, I wanted to tell you the news that my sister received an offer of marriage this morning.”

Tobias held his hands out to the flames and kept his face averted. “I believe you suspected as much earlier in the day. Congratulations, my lady.”

Mercy sat his hat on a side table. “What I hadn’t suspected was the fervor my sister inspired in her suitor.”

Tobias’ lips twisted into a grimace. “Fervor?”

Mercy laughed and gestured in her direction. “I’ll leave Blythe to explain the particulars and the effect of his zeal. However, to be clear, there will not be another wedding yet. My sister refused Lord Archibald and his nine thousand a year.”

Tobias spun about and stared at her. “You turned him down?”

She nodded slowly watching his expression change to one of puzzlement. Had he really thought she would accept an offer of marriage from the man she barely knew? She would never choose a man for something as superficial as material possessions. That hadn’t been why she’d married Raphael.

She’d married because she’d loved everything about her husband, despite the backlash of feeling from her friends. He had been much older than Blythe and married before. Blythe had known and not cared a whit for any of that or for his title.

“In fact,” Mercy continued, my sister had to refuse him three times in as many minutes. Where is Wilcox with that towel? You’ll catch a chill. Excuse me while I hurry him up.”

Mercy slipped from the room.

Tobias took a pace toward her. “Why would you turn him down? He’s rich enough to look after you well.”

Blythe approached him. “My friend is in love with him and I’m not.”

“Archibald is a fool. Miss Trimble deserves so much better,” he declared hotly.

Blythe studied Tobias, puzzled that he appeared so concerned for Emma and on such a slight acquaintance. “She does indeed, but her heart is full of him. Perhaps he will come to his senses one day.”

“Hearts can change and it will serve him right if she’s cold to him by the time he realizes her worth.” Tobias shrugged. “What did Mercy mean by ‘zeal’?”

Blythe rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. “Lord Archibald offered for me, and then refused to believe I was in earnest. He was uncomfortably insistent. Your brother was kind enough to intervene and sug

gest he leave.”

Tobias’ brow rose. “Suggest he leave? My brother never suggests, he demands. Just how did Lord Archibald attempt to convince you?”

Blythe shuddered at the memory. “He kissed me and I sincerely wished he hadn’t.”

Tobias’ hand rose to her face and his damp thumb brushed across her bottom lip gently. “Many men want to kiss you.”

Blythe leaned into his touch. “But not every man may. I choose to be selective.”

The corner of Tobias’ lips lifted. “Is that so? Well, that man should consider himself blessed.”

His head lowered and his lips brushed over hers gently. Blythe jerked back as a drip of water landed beside her eye. She wiped it away.

Rather than be offended, Tobias grinned. “Perhaps we should continue this discussion another time when I’m not drenched and dripping water all over you.”

Blythe swallowed, overcome with anxiety. After her encounter with Lord Archibald, she didn’t want any more misunderstandings. She didn’t mean to lead Tobias on, but his touch and kisses were drugging and made her forget herself. “We cannot continue like this,” she whispered, keeping her eyes fixed on his soggy cravat. “I’m so sorry. I’ve led you to believe that I could, was considering, more, but that isn’t the case. I’m not the kind of woman to engage in an affair.”

“I know,” he whispered. “You deserve better than my undeserving attentions.”