Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

Tobias skirted the chair and crowded Blythe against the table. “Now, where were we?” He drew in a deep breath. “God you smell good enough to eat.” His lips met Blythe’s in a soft kiss and despite her misgivings she couldn’t help but kiss him back. His hands settled on her hips and jerked her toward him. He tasted like toast and coffee. He tasted of warmth.

The locked door rattled behind him. Tobias drew back, brushed his finger across her bottom lip, and then gestured for her to return to her chair. When she’d sat, he hurried to open the door. “So sorry. Must have stuck.”

Wilcox glanced at him, distrust clear in his expression. “Is everything to your satisfaction, Lady Venables?”

Blythe hoped her cheeks were not as red as they felt. “Yes, thank you, Wilcox. Everything is perfect.”

A quick grin crossed Tobias’ face. Wilcox fussed at the sideboard and then withdrew.

Blythe picked up her silver. Would Tobias kiss her witless and carry on with another woman at the same time? She peeked at him and her pulse raced. He stood at the morning room window, staring out at the view of the east gardens. As there was nothing of particular interest in the east gardens, she was intrigued by what could capture his attention so thoroughly that he would keep his back to her for so long after such a kiss.

Fourteen

There were times when a man could have too many eyes upon him, especially when he was aroused to the point of pain. Being alone with Blythe, kissing her, and holding her against him eroded his control considerably.

Although he was pleased to see Beth usefully employed, her presence in the abbey would add another complication to his life. Beth was an observant woman, one of high morals like Blythe which was why he was so happy she’d offered the position of companion rather than maid. They were very much alike.

Beth would take care of Blythe exceedingly well. Well enough to likely get in the way of his goal of seducing Blythe.

He should be thinking of the future and his goal of finding a wealthy wife. However, he wasn’t sure what he wanted more; Miss Trimble’s money or Blythe panting after making love to him. Sadly, the latter was in his thought more often than the first.

He glanced over his shoulder to see if Blythe had finished eating and caught her staring at him. He grinned as a blush stole over her cheeks. Damn, but she was a tempting wench. He’d have her over the table this very instant if he didn’t think she’d hate herself the moment it was over. Not that he had any intentions of bedding her fast or just once. There was an energy about her that drew him closer, even as he recognized he should be the last man on earth to have her. Yet Blythe was a woman that couldn’t be rushed, even though she returned his kisses with astonishing passion. “Shall we continue in the sanctuary today?”

She daintily pressed her napkin to her lips and stood, smoothing the folds of her skirts as she did so. “I believe that is a very good idea.”

He allowed her to proceed him, but not from any gentlemanly inclination. He enjoyed watching her move. Dainty. Economical with her movements, but rigidly straight at all times. The exceptions were when she pressed herself against him while they kissed and he’d begun to live for those moments.

As they traversed the short distance to the drawing room doors, Wilcox appeared before them and cleared his throat. “A servant has come from Walden Hall. It seems Lord Venables has arrived and is in something of an uproar.”

Blythe stopped. “Whatever could he be upset about? Did the servant leave a letter?”

Wilcox grimaced. “No, my lady. I’ve put him in the library so he might pass along the message in person.”

Blythe frowned. “Very well. I’ll see him now.” She hurried into the library, closing the doors behind her with a soft click.

Tobias scowled at Wilcox. “Do you know what that is about?”

Wilcox shrugged. “Lady Venables would not like me to be involved in issues that do not relate to Romsey Abbey. I didn’t like to ask.”

Tobias crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “But the servant whispered it to you anyway. Out with it.”

Wilcox glanced around a little guiltily. “He wanted to know if we had acquired any new servants. I thought it an oddly timed question as Mrs. Turner has just joined the household.”

“Very oddly timed. I wasn’t aware that Mrs. Turner had any connection to Lady Venables’ before.”

“I’m not aware of any,” Wilcox supplied.

Tobias checked the hall to be sure he was unobserved and then pressed his ear to the door, ignoring Wilcox’s spluttered gasp. But inside, he could hear nothing of the conversation. He drew back. “She does speak very quietly, doesn’t she?”

“Too quietly. Excuse me,” Wilcox murmured.

Had Venables noticed the removal of Blythe’s son’s things already? He hoped it was about another matter altogether so she need not become distressed. Rather than wait where he couldn’t hear anything anyway, Tobias retreated to the drawing room. Blythe would join him when she could and he’d question her about the matter.

While he waited, he prowled the room. The former duke’s of Romsey had a penchant for dramatic paintings throughout the house, but here they seemed to him to be a poorly chosen collection. The large portrait of the old duke, of course, drew the eye, but the other smaller works were not cast in the same style or elegance. They lacked the presence Tobias thought necessary for such a formal chamber, as if they were hung here without thought to the effect.

The drawing room door clicked shut and Tobias spun around. Blythe’s face had creased into worry again and he hurried to her side, slipped an arm around her back and pulled her against him. “What is it?”

She pressed a hand to her cheek. “I am stunned. My servants have handed in their notice and left Walden Hall this morning. Venables is livid.”