Engaging the Enemy (The Wild Randalls 1)

Her eyes were filled with regret. “Edwin is waiting.”

Leopold stepped back, dropping her gown, surprised by his disappointment. “Ah. My apologies.”

“Do not apologize for wanting me. I quite like how much you do.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Later. I promise. We should be ready to go in a moment.”

As she swept from the room, Leopold considered how difficult the afternoon would be. At least the presence of the boy would temper his lust. But he doubted his heart would remain impervious to the time he spent in the boy’s company. He already cared too much about Edwin for his comfort. He snatched up a pile of unopened correspondence, hoping the contents would prove a reasonable distraction from his lustful thoughts, and followed Mercy into the hall.

A few steps from the main doors the butler approached him. “Her Grace mentioned that you are joining the picnic, sir.”

“Yes, Wilcox. Was there something you wanted me to attend to before we depart?”

“Just a small matter, sir.” The butler drew Leopold aside, out of earshot of the lingering footmen. “Are you, by any chance, armed?”

Unsure of what to make of the question, but disturbed by it nonetheless, Leopold nodded. “Always.”

The butler sagged with relief. “That is excellent news. Thank you.”

Leopold waited for an explanation to follow the butler’s pleasure at hearing he was armed, but Mercy and young Edwin arrived, followed by a maid. The little boy tugged on his mother’s hand and, while she took his enthusiasm with great patience, Leopold rather thought she wished he would desist.

He stepped forward. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”

The little boy gaped up at him then clung to his mother’s skirts. Leopold cursed under his breath. He hadn’t meant to startle him into silence. He’d hoped to provide Mercy with a useful distraction. Perhaps he was out of practice with young children. It was probably for the best.

Mercy bent down to Edwin’s level. “Sweetheart, say hello to Mr. Randall. You remember him, don’t you?”

The little boy nodded, suddenly shy. Their eyes met. The boy looked just like his youngest brother when he was about to be scolded. Leopold smiled. “Shall we be on our way, Your Grace? It looks to be a fine day for your picnic.”

On hearing the word picnic, the little boy untangled himself from his mother and rushed out the open front door and down the steps, heading for the waiting carriage at a run.

“Edwin, stop,” Leopold ordered without thought.

The boy halted and spun about, shock clear o

n his face. Had no one ever raised their voice to him before? He hadn’t meant to frighten the child and he slowly approached Edwin. He bent down closer to the boy’s height as Mercy had done and placed his hand on his trembling arm. “You must wait for your mother, lad. A lady must always be escorted.”

Although the boy was very young, Leopold thought he understood because he did wait for his mother to join him before clambering into the open coach door. But what if he hadn’t stopped? Would Edwin have rushed straight under the horse’s hooves or fallen beneath the carriage wheels if the horses had been startled into movement?

He glanced up at the driver’s bench and met Allen’s raised brow. His cousin seemed bemused by the outing and Leopold’s place in the procession. With a swift glance at the rear of the conveyance, he spotted Allen’s two sons. It seemed the outing was to be a family affair. A pity Mercy didn’t realize.

Leopold was unused to caring about the health of the Duke of Romsey. Yet he cared greatly about this boy, this child that could be his, one who should not be a duke at all. He couldn’t bear the thought of him in peril of any kind. Heart pounding, he climbed into the carriage and sat beside the maid.

The carriage lurched forward and Edwin squealed with delight over the outing to come. As Mercy fussed with straightening the boy’s hair, Leopold tried to settle his anxiety. It was just a simple picnic outing. There was nothing strange about such an endeavor. There was no need to fret over the boy unnecessary as he was doing now.

When the carriage turned into a shaded lane a short distance from the abbey and stopped, Leopold exited and helped the maid and Mercy out. But when it was Edwin’s turn, the boy didn’t climb out. He launched himself into Leopold’s arms with a giggle. Shocked to be holding the child, Leopold put him down swiftly.

Mercy curled her arm around his and tugged him away. “I should have warned you. The grooms have made a game of getting him out of the carriage. Some days it takes three jumps before he’s satisfied. Allen will keep an eye on him until he tires of the sport.”

So she was acquainted with Allen, and trusted him with Edwin. Perhaps the news they were related wouldn’t come as too big a shock. He glanced back one last time as Jacob and David laughed with Edwin. They seemed happy in his company, and he with them.

Leopold scanned their surroundings and found the picnic spot set up under the shade of a large oak. Keeping one eye on the jumping boy and one on the uneven ground, Leopold escorted Mercy across the field to a low chair.

“I think that chair’s for you, actually,” she said, and then laughed as she settled to the picnic blanket in a puff of long skirts. She dug into the hamper. “If you wish to join Edwin in his games I am content enough here.”

Leopold dropped his correspondence onto the corner of the blanket and turned to watch the boy. Edwin had recruited all the servants into a game of tag, but the servants were letting him win by a wide margin and the laughter was enthusiastic. He was happy. “He has enough people dancing attendance on him for the moment. I’ll step in should the servants become fatigued.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he wondered what the hell he could do for the boy that a thousand servants couldn’t. Edwin didn’t need him. Leopold moved the chair out of the way then settled on the ground, discomforted by his realization. Where was his mind these days?

Mercy set a large jug before him on the blanket along with three glasses. “He will tire first, or become hungry and return here.” She sat back on her heels and sighed. “I love this spot.”