Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

“Mrs. Turner was married to my old friend, but he’s since passed on. She has a boy to care for. I imagine you passed him in the hall.”

Ah, that explained the boy, but not the reason for this meeting. “I did. How can I help you, Mr. Randall?”

Leopold set his hands to an unoccupied chair set before the desk. “Will you join us?”

She sat and waited for Leopold to seat himself. He leaned forward, hands clenched. “I was wondering, Lady Venables, if you might be able to help me make this woman see reason. As I mentioned, her husband was an old friend and I want to ensure that his widow and son are properly provided for.”

“And the problem is?”

“She refuses to take my money.”

Blythe faced the woman and raised a brow.

Mrs. Turner scowled. “We are not Mr. Randall’s responsibility. I came because Eamon Murphy led me to believe there was an urgent matter Mr. Randall wished to discuss. I cannot take any more charity from him

without causing the worst sort of gossip.”

Blythe faced Leopold again. “What has been done so far?”

Leopold picked up a stack of papers and shuffled them restlessly. “The house is in good repair now, but I want to do more.”

Beth Turner shook her head. “Mr. Randall, you should know that some forms of charity can leave a certain tarnish on a woman’s reputation, no matter the good intentions it was offered under.”

“She is correct about that,” Blythe said quietly. Too much charity caused uncomfortable talk, especially when the woman was a pretty widow.

Leopold scowled at them both. “The boy needs a tutor in order to make something of himself.” His jaw clenched stubbornly giving Blythe the impression that it was something he’d already declared repeatedly prior to her arrival. Blythe’s respect for Mrs. Turner rose a notch. It would be hard to turn down such a generous offer of financial assistance.

“Mr. Randall, please understand that I am grateful for all you have done, but our lives are set on a different path. You’ve done more than enough.”

Leopold slammed the papers down. “I disagree. If Ollie was here he’d tell you the odds are against you and the boy thriving as you are.”

The mention of the missing brother surprised Blythe. What exactly was this woman to the Randall family that Oliver was mentioned so earnestly?

Mrs. Turner shook her head. “But he isn’t here and cannot confuse me with his statistics,” she said. “If he’d have anything to say in the matter that is.”

“He would want to see you happy.”

“Living off your charity will not make me so,” Mrs. Turner asserted.

They appeared to have reached an impasse and Leopold Randall appeared infuriated by Mrs. Turner’s stubborn refusal to take his aid. His jaw was set, his glare aimed squarely at Mrs. Turner.

Blythe wracked her brain, trying to think of a socially acceptable way for Leopold to do more, and for Mrs. Turner’s reputation to be unaffected by the charity. Mrs. Turner could go into service at Romsey, but if the woman was as good a friend as she was coming to believe, then such a fall would be a hard choice for the woman to make.

Mrs. Turner’s calm determination to refuse assistance added to Blythe’s respect for her. Some women would have taken what was offered and endured the gossip. But what other options were there?

Blythe pressed her hands to her lap, noticing her glove had begun to tear at the seam of one finger. A proper maid would have noticed and not handed them to her. If she had a decent ladies maid, her mornings might start off on a better note.

She stilled. An ordinary servant role wouldn’t do for the close friend of the Randall’s, but would Mrs. Turner turn down the superior position of lady’s maid or companion if one was offered? Blythe was not unnecessarily demanding, and the woman did not appear to be the flighty type. She might be poor, but her gown was well tended, her hair neatly pinned back, her voice refined. She could do very well as a companion.

Leopold tapped on the desk to draw her attention. “Have you thought of a solution, Lady Venables?”

She frowned. Leopold really did have all the makings of a lord. His impatience was irksome. “I may have, but it will depend on Mrs. Turner’s skills. Can you sew well, Mrs. Turner?”

A frown crossed her face, but she nodded.

“Can you get along well with others and not listen to gossip.”

“Oh,” Leopold said as he sat back in his chair. “I’d not thought of employing her as a maid.”