Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

“I have been surprised by your candor many times.”

There wasn’t much Tobias could say to answer that. He stepped away from what he couldn’t have. Keeping to a good mood tonight while other men pawed at Blythe during the dancing was going to try his temper. He wanted Blythe, now, before any other gentleman could lay a finger to her pale skin, but now she knew the truth of him he’d never have a chance.

Heavy steps plodded down the central staircase and Leopold walked in, speaking as he came. “Mercy won’t be much longer. She’s saying goodnight to Edwin and seeing that Beth and George have everything they need.” His words died slowly to a whisper as he stared, rather stupidly in Tobias’ opinion, at Blythe.

Tobias stepped between them and waved his hand before his brother’s face. “Tis rude to stare at a lady.”

Leopold coughed to cover his lapse and then bowed. “Forgive me. You look lovely tonight, my lady.”

Blythe acknowledged the compliment with a slight tilt of her head, but then she moved away, pacing the room while they waited for Mercy to join them. Devil take it. Was Blythe coming out of mourning that big a deal?

When Mercy arrived, she gave a little squeal at Blythe’s attire, and then they hurried out to the carriage. Tobias trailed behind as panic threatened. Blythe had distracted him earlier with her beauty but the dark carriage, door open and waiting for him, sent a chill over his flesh. He stopped before it.

“We haven’t got all night, brother. Time is running from us.”

Tobias closed his eyes at the familiar expression. Those had been his father’s last words as they’d all left Romsey ten years ago.

A groom held the door, one brow raised. Tobias couldn’t make his legs work well enough to move forward. He couldn’t climb inside. It would be like reliving history—the darkest day of his existence.

Blythe’s face appeared in the carriage window and she peered out at him. As she stared, he regained some of his courage. Her scrutiny challenged him to face his fear. He took one step forward, then another until he was at the door. One last step and he’d be inside with his memories to smother him. Blythe smiled and his panic eased. With a deep breath he took his place beside her, facing the rear. Exactly where he’d sat on the day his parents had died. The door shutting made him jump and he glanced across the carriage to the opposite seat.

In the muted interior, Leopold reminded him even more of their father. Like his memory from the past, the two opposite were talking to each other and ignoring him. He gripped the bench seat beneath him, listening to the fine, dark leather creak beneath his fingers, and closed his eyes. Up until now he’d managed to keep the memories at bay. He let them out rarely, and only when asked for specifics by Leopold. But as the carriage rolled away from Romsey Abbey, the memories overwhelmed him.

Rosemary had been angry, but that was nothing new. She’d not wanted to take the trip and had sulked on her side of the seat. As for him, he’d been dressed in his best clothes, scrubbed because they were to meet someone important; an old acquaintance of his mother’s. Unfortunately, their identity escaped him, but the atmosphere in the carriage had not. His mother had been so sad that she hadn’t been able to hide her sorrow. She clenched a handkerchief in her hand and repeatedly dabbed at her eyes. His father had done his best to comfort her, but he hadn’t been very successful.

The carriage rattled over the estate bridge, and Tobias’ eyes widened as the sound stirred up another memory. His father might have told anyone that had asked that they were going to see an old friend in London, but they had changed direction as soon as they’d left Romsey. They had not been overturned on the road to London as he’d previously thought. They had traveled west instead.

His heart pounded. Why had their destination changed? He shook his head, struggling to make the images clearer. Long stretches of silence, and the dark woods around them. Panic and anguish. His mother crying out in pain.

Blythe’s gloved hand settled over his fist.

He grasped her hand quickly; desperate for the distraction she gave.

~ * ~

Blythe winced as Tobias crushed her hand in his. A violent tremble flowed up her arm from their joined hands, confirming her suspicions that Tobias was far from well. She twisted slightly on the bench, attempting to see his face better. His jaw was clenched, his lips pressed together, but his breathing was rushed as if he’d been sprinting. His hand was fire against hers, damp and warmer than it should be.

Although he had a strangling grip on her hand, she could move her thumb a little and she strove to calm him by drawing small circles over his glove. She didn’t know what had come over him, but he had to be well again before they reached the ball.

She glanced across the carriage, but her sister and Leopold were simply too caught up in their own conversation to notice Tobias’ distress. However, she couldn’t travel along holding Tobias’ hand the whole way. She had to extract herself and find another solution.

With her free hand, she nudged her blanket to the floor, and then bent to retrieve it. As she did, Tobias released her. However, his hand somehow ended up beneath her breast. Blythe sucked in a shocked breath as he took the opportunity to learn the shape of her breast again and caressed her nipple.

Heat swept over her cheeks, and she was grateful for the failing light. Blythe pulled the coach blanket higher up her chest to hide the fact that her nipples had hardened to embarrassing points. Mercy glanced at her, smiled, and went back to her conversation with Leopold. Beside her, Tobias cleared his throat and then began to chuckle.

“Do share the joke, brother,” Leopold demanded.

“I was, ah, just thinking about surprises. You never expect them.”

Leopold scowled. “Well, of course. If you expected them, then you wouldn’t truly be surprised.”

“Quite right. Quite right,” Tobias agreed.

He fell silent again, and his breathing returned to normal. At least her embarrassment had achieved something. Tobias shifted on the seat, coming closer. Did he really find her presence a comfort, or had the mere thought of dalliance wiped his mind of whatever distress ailed him?

The Dunwoody estate came into view, candlelight streaming through the windows, and she drew in a deep breath. If Mercy, Leopold, and Tobias’ reaction were anything to go by she would be subject to even more scrutiny because of her choice of gown. Mercy had been terribly persuasive, but she was a touch anxious about how she would be received. She raised her hand to her neck, feeling the comforting weight of her jewels against her skin. She was doing this by her own choice, even if Mercy had bullied her into it.

The carriage rolled to a stop and after the stairs were lowered, Tobias bolted from the carriage followed by his brother. Mercy reached across the space and patted her knee. “You look lovely, my dear. I’m sure you’ll be much admired.”