Engaging the Enemy (The Wild Randalls 1)

Tobias gripped the window sill tightly and released a deep belly laugh.

Gods, it was good to be on dry land again. Teasing Lady Venables was the most fun he’d had in years. He couldn’t wait till morning. How would she behave if he patted her rear in the drawing room downstairs while her sister stood three feet away?

He’d have to try it one day.

Tobias closed the window and then climbed into the obscenely large bed. He set his hands behind his head as lightning flashed through his window. He could become used to creature comforts such as this. What would be nicer would be sharing the night with a woman’s soft, silken limbs wrapped around him.

The idea appealed. Someone adventurous in bed, plump of pocket and biddable would make a very palatable arrangement. Marriage seemed a good way to obtain wealth easily. However, he had no intention of fathering children. Being born a Randall hadn’t done him any good and he’d never bring a child into the world to see him suffer. Yes, tomorrow, after he’d made amends to Lady Venables, he’d investigate the possibilities of his new life and what might be done to improve it.

~ * ~

Blythe surveyed her maid’s handiwork in the mirror, wondering what other people saw when they looked at her. To her mind, she appeared exactly as she always did. Not a hair out of place, the perfect model of propriety and decorum—a lady one should show respect to at all times. However, all that had changed overnight. At least the maid’s shaking hands hadn’t made a mess of her hair. “You may go, Dobson,” she said sadly.

Hillie Dobson, her maid since her marriage, bobbed a quick curtsey and then hurried from the room with unnecessary speed. Blythe turned to stare at the door as those waiting outside locked her in again. A prisoner still. She clenched her jaw. This was impossible. She pressed her hands flat on the table and concentrated on controlling her temper.

A lady did not display her emotions, elated or otherwise. She would be calm and composed, and not shriek like a fishwife at the injustice she was currently suffering. She stood and crossed to the wardrobe. She’d pack her own things, throw them and herself out the window if required, and leave this place today rather than suffer further slights. She was not above carrying them herself should it become a necessity.

The key turned in the lock behind her and the door slowly creaked open. “Blythe?” Mercy’s voice whispered across the room, trembling with uncertainty. But then two sets of footsteps crossed the threshold; one heavy, one light.

Blythe kept her back to her goalers. “I would appreciate it if you would call a carriage for me, Your Grace. As much as I enjoy the new level of attention I’m receiving from first the doctor and then the guards at the door, I am certain I should get out from underfoot so you can plan your wedding. Congratulations. I hope you both will be very happy together.”

Mercy gasped. “You were awake.”

“You forgot to tickle me to check.” Blythe smiled tightly and added her hairbrush to the bag, holding back tears by sheer force of will. “There once was a time when we knew everything about each other. But it seems I don’t know you at all, Your Grace.” Blythe turned. “And you appear to know nothing about me if you think you can treat me like this. Kindly get out of my way.”

Both Mercy and Leopold Randall stood across the room, side by side. A wall. United against her. Blythe gritted her teeth as Mercy glanced at Leopold Randall, looking to him as if for instructions on what to say to her request. If he suggested she remain as their guest, lady or not, she’d clobber him with the nearest vase.

Randall stepped forward. “Were you awake through everything last night?”

She nodded. Almost everything. There was a period of time missing from her memory. The exact period of time the pirate would have held her in his arms. She didn’t miss remembering that event at all.

He frowned. “Then you heard what everyone else has said about your actions and suspected motives.”

Blythe nodded again and picked up her bag. “I seem to be in need of a new maid. Would you be so good as to assist Dobson find a new position? I don’t believe she will wish to remain in my employment any longer thanks to the wild stories circulating about me. She could scarce carry out her duties today.”

The door swung fully open. “You can’t leave until your name is cleared,” Tobias Randall added cheerfully as he stepped into her bedchamber without knocking.

Blythe glanced at him and then looked away, fighting to keep a blush from her cheeks. The younger Randall had come to add his tuppence worth to the discussion, but was only dressed in a sheet. How typical of his type of man. Of course he was free to come and go at will and that increased Blythe’s annoyance beyond an acceptable level. She backed away from them, holding onto her bag with all her might.

“For God’s sake get out of here,” Leopold shouted at his brother. “You’re indecent.”

“If you do not like my current attire, then perhaps you’d be good enough to return my clothing.” Tobias bowed to her. “Good morning, Lady Venables. Did you have a pleasant rest?”

She wasn’t going to confess to Mercy or his brother that he’d kept her awake half the night with his antics. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of proving just how big a nuisance he had been. “Fine, thank you.”

He winked. “Wonderful. My brother has plans to show me around. Care to join us for a stroll about the abbey?”

Blythe stared at him. He didn’t even have a pair of boots on his feet at the moment and he thought she would be interested in remaining in his company a moment longer than she had to. He was the mad one. “Are you going like that?”

“For the moment, it seems very likely.” He wiggled his toes.

Blythe quickly looked up at his face. “No, thank you. I’ll be leaving today. Why, this very minute if a bunch of rude and foolish Randall’s will get out of my way.”

Mercy gasped but Blythe was so angry she did not care if she insulted her own family. The situation was intolerable and she would leave.

Tobias merely laughed at her situation and she scowled at him. What it would take to make him as uncomfortable as he made her?

“My God, that’s a look to skewer your innards. Leopold, I think you should apologize this very minute for unjustly locking the lady’s door. You do want your future wife’s sister to be happy, don’t you? Lady Venables appears the type to hold a grudge.”