Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

When Tobias dumped her on her feet again, she reached for him, suddenly unsteady after being flung about so roughly. He caught her fast against his side while she caught her breath. She’d not like to travel in such a fashion ever again. She’d make sure to stay on the wagon for the return trip to Walden Hall.

“Your housekeeper makes for a lousy chaperone. You’re in my arms again.”

Blythe licked her lips, her pulse pounded in her ears at the huskiness of his voice. “I’ve not needed a chaperone since before I married.”

His breath tickled her ear. “Have you never even been courted since your husband’s death? I’d have thought the fellows in these parts would be a dozen deep in your drawing room.”

She shook her head, astonished that Tobias thought she could incite such behavior. “The gentlemen of my acquaintance have kept a respectful distance. Venables was well liked. None would dare approach me while I’m in mourning.”

“Fools. Has no one even tried to steal a kiss since he passed?”

His hand slid around her back, and she turned in his arms. “No, no one.” She set her hands to his chest, holding him at bay even when she wasn’t sure she could. No one treated her as Tobias Randall did and her body was betraying her sense of self preservation.

“Hmm.” Tobias caressed her back in a slow brush. “I imagine the frost can be off-putting to a weaker willed man. They didn’t know what they missed.”

Blythe looked up just as Tobias stepped away. She rocked forward, stunned by the loss of his attention and touch. She’d been so sure he was about to kiss her. Her heart hammered, disappointment made her cheeks burn hot.

Tobias leaned against a tree and struggled to free himself of one boot. It landed with a wet slosh on the grass and he tipped the water out and shook it. “Damn things will chafe and hobble me if I walk in them wet. Forgive me, B, I’ve no choice but to be ungentlemanly and take them off here and now. At least we’re on Randall property and no one but you and your servants should see my latest indiscretion.”

Blythe struggled to catch her breath while he stripped himself of his remaining footwear. For a moment, a very long tempting moment, she had wanted Tobias to kiss her as he had that morning. She fought to bury her feeling of disappointment. He was all wrong for her. Blunt, crude and filled to overflowing with lust. She closed her eyes. Yet he was the only man she wanted to kiss since her husband. That shocked her completely.

Perhaps she truly had lost her mind.

~ * ~

Tobias wriggled his toes, glad to be free of the confining boots. He still hadn’t become used to the new footwear and wearing them wet was worse than wearing nothing at all. He ran his hand over the rough scars on his right ankle and grimaced. Hopefully, Blythe and her housekeeper would not notice them and become distressed. He did not want pity for the life he’d previously suffered through. Leopold’s anxiety over his treatment had been bad enough.

He picked up his footwear and shook the water from them. Murphy would not be pleased with their condition. He hoped the fine boots were not ruined.

Blythe turned when he cleared his throat, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Likely he’d overstepped again by almost kissing her. But at least he hadn’t acted on the impulse this time. “The house is this way,” he said, gesturing up the drive.

Blythe nodded and hurried ahead. It was her way, he’d discovered, to run from awkward situations, at least at first. When she’d worked out how to react, he’d undoubtedly be subjected to a lecture. And he’d deserve it, too. He was still waiting for her tirade over this morning’s kiss.

As he trudged after her, he marveled at his predicament. Despite Leopold’s lectures on propriety and gentlemanly behavior, he was not having much luck in avoiding situations where he and Blythe were alone. He was honestly attempting to be a gentleman where she was concerned. He did not want to cause her further distress. From what he saw, she’d had more than enough sorrow to last her a lifetime. He had not intentionally sought her out aside from his first night as a guest at Romsey. How strange that the woman who should despise him turned out to be the one person he was unwittingly drawn to.

The drive up to the house was rutted in places so he lengthened his stride to reach her. She’d lifted her skirts with both hands showing her sturdy, sensible half boots and shapely calves concealed by thick stockings. So prim and off-putting. He couldn’t help but be intrigued by her. Her kisses were passionate, her behavior quite the opposite. She was the most confusing woman he’d ever met.

He slipped his hand beneath her elbow to steady her on the uneven ground. When he glanced at her face, her lips were set in a firm line as if she was holding back from blistering his ears. Oh, well. A proper scolding was long overdue. He wished she would get it over and done with. He didn’t like to wait

for unpleasantness.

When they reached the top of the rise, he dropped his hand. “Here we are.”

Harrowdale waited silently before them. Its windows shuttered, vines creeping up the walls to the uppermost floors, leaves lying in a thick carpet where they’d fallen around the footings. His home had never been so quiet in his youth. There had always been someone calling out, someone tending the gardens, someone waiting to welcome him back. The emptiness made him uneasy.

“Oh,” Blythe whispered. “It’s lovely.”

He shrugged. “It is home. I’ll go assist your groom with the unloading.”

He left her and headed for the wagon waiting at the rear. When he neared, he tossed his boots into a patch of sunlit gravel in the courtyard. They’d dry eventually, but he could count on Murphy having a few words to say about the additional work. Another matter, another scolding, that couldn’t be helped.

As he untied the ropes holding the rocking horse in place, he scanned the rear of the building. The house appeared exactly as he’d left it several weeks ago; neglected and overgrown. In time, he’d make the place the way he remembered. He’d be happy to have something useful to do with his days instead of snooping through the Duke of Romsey’s papers in search of clues. But he did want to find Rosemary and Oliver before he established his own household here. He still had plenty of time.

The housekeeper approached, smiling as if she’d just been given an extra holiday. “If you’ll be so good to give me the key, Mr. Randall, I’ll open the house.”

“No key. But I’ll open the house momentarily.” He lifted Blythe’s precious rocking horse down carefully and gave it a little push. The horse rocked to and fro smoothly. Any child would have adored it.

He laid his hand on the rocking horse’s head, halting its progress as Blythe approached. Her gaze was clouded and sad again, and he cursed his foolishness. Grief was never far from her mind. He shouldn’t do anything to remind her of her loss.