Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)
“Beth, hold a moment,” he called to the woman. “You, Mrs. Turner, are a hard woman to pin down.”
Beth smiled pleasantly from under her umbrella. “I have a lot to do. George is helping me pick some herbs to dry and then I must return to my duties with the countess. I cannot be caught tarrying in conversation on my second day.”
“I’m sure Lady Venables won’t mind. In fact, I’m sure she may be occupied for much of the afternoon.”
“Oh.” She ruffled her son’s hair. “See what you can discover in the garden, George. I’m told there
are many varieties with good scent.”
“Yes, Mama.” The boy ran ahead of them, barely keeping himself under his umbrella.
Tobias held out his arm.
Beth scowled at it. “I should not. Besides being soaked through with rain and muddy, too, do you wish to see me dismissed for tardiness?”
Tobias lowered his arm in dismay. “You are one of my oldest acquaintances. I’ll not slight you by refusing to treat you well.”
Beth clutched her cloak tighter about her. “Any friendship between us ended long ago. I’m Lady Venables servant now, much farther below the Randall’s than I ever was before.”
Tobias removed his soggy gloves and stuffed them in a pocket. “Mother would scold you if she heard you speak of yourself in such a manner. She thought very well of you, Beth. Almost like a daughter.”
“Any of that. . . What I mean to say is that none of that matters now. I put those days behind me when I married Mr. Turner. It’s best to forget what will never be.”
“I, however, shall cling to hope.” Tobias stepped forward and brushed his knuckles across her cheek, catching a tear as it fell. “Did my brother ever know about mother’s plans?”
Beth drew in a shuddering breath. “No, and I beg you to refrain from mentioning the matter should he return. It was just a dream and long over. You were never supposed to learn of your mother’s ambitions when you did.”
“I was an inquisitive boy. That hasn’t changed either. I have a question to ask of you. One that you will likely find impertinent, but I need a woman’s opinion. One who has loved and lost. Don’t ask why. Did you come to love Turner in the end?”
Beth’s stare made him squirm where he stood. She really did have a lot in common with her employer. “I cared for him very much. He treated me well and I grieved when he died. Excuse me, I must return to my duties.”
Tobias dissected her words carefully as she hurried away. Cared for and treated well did not sound like a passionate, loving marriage. Just a comfortable one. Perhaps that was all he should expect from a marriage to Miss Trimble if he was fortunate enough to secure her agreement. She may never forget her affection for Lord Archibald, her first love, but he could make sure she never regretted her choice in marrying him.
With that goal in mind, Tobias braced himself to be happy and headed inside out of the weather.
~ * ~
Heat stole over Blythe’s cheeks as Mercy laughed at her retelling of the worst proposal of marriage ever to have occurred. Unlike her sister, Blythe struggled to find any humor in the situation. She was embarrassed and uncomfortable. If not for Mercy’s presence, she would have fled upstairs and hidden herself away. “This is no laughing matter, Mercy. I’m still in shock.”
“If you had accepted his suit I would never have forgiven you.”
“Because of Emma.” Emma would be devastated that Lord Archibald had proposed to her. Blythe couldn’t expect his early morning visit to have gone unnoticed. News that he’d come courting and been refused would spread. Servants couldn’t be relied upon to hold their tongue over such a juicy bit of gossip. The fact that Archibald had consulted with Venables of all things, too, just added to her distress. Her stepson couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.
“No. Because you do not love him,” Mercy clarified. “He isn’t the man you need.”
She eyed her sister’s superior expression with surprise. “What do you think I need? Not that I want to marry again of course.”
Mercy caught her hand and squeezed. “I cannot tell you, but I am sure you will know him when he captures your attention.”
“You speak in riddles. Please, no more today.” She glanced about the chamber, wishing Tobias would appear. Luncheon had come and gone without him. She would worry, except she had a feeling he’d simply returned to Harrowdale. He was planning on living there soon and the place did need attention. Still, she wished he’d asked her to go with him. She could use something to do rather than reliving that terrible excuse for a kiss that Lord Archibald had forced on her.
Mercy tucked her feet up beneath her and laid her head against the back. “Was Archibald’s kiss really that bad or are you afraid to say you liked it because of Raphael? You know he would understand if you were attracted to someone else.”
“Raphael had nothing to do with my reaction. It was worse than terrible. I fear Archibald may have bruised me.” She brushed her fingers across her lips, wishing she could remember Tobias’ tender kisses instead of Lord Archibald’s harsh possession.
A door opened behind her back and, as she started to turn to see who came in without knocking, Mercy whispered. “We need to find you someone who kisses better.”
Tobias stood at the doorway, hat in hand and soaked to the skin and dripping muddy water all over the marble floor. “What is wrong? Wilcox said you wished to see me urgently.”