Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

Twenty Two

Tobias sat through another morning of gentlemen callers for Blythe from the seclusion of the duke’s sanctuary, his disgust growing with every moment. He wasn’t there to spy, although that couldn’t be helped as their voices traveled so well. He had skimmed two more journals since sunrise and was about to begin a third.

He stood, stretched his back, and then tiptoed to the doorway. He could see Blythe through the peephole, sitting a few feet away, back ramrod straight as usual. Her speech was calm and polite to even the most blatant flirtations. Was this how proper gentlemen would court a proper lady?

He drew back in disgust and raked his fingers through his hair. He had to get out of the abbey for a while. The next moment Blythe was without callers, he would slip out. He checked the peep hole again. Thankfully, Blythe’s latest suitor stood to take his leave, rather obviously mentioning his pleasure at seeing her getting on with life.

Nausea gripped him. He nodded to her as he exited the room and made his way to the terrace doors.

“Where are you going?”

Blythe’s trembling question wrapped around his chest and stilled him. He took a deep breath and spun about. Damn but he wanted to cross the room and take her into his arms. But he’d promised to keep a distance. He would master his desire if it killed him.

Yet he couldn’t stand to see, listen or imagine Blythe falling for another man’s flirtations. “Harrowdale,” he said eventually. “I’m going home where I belong.”

He let himself out without turning back and promptly knocked Beth Turner off her feet. He apologized and lifted her from the ground, returning her fallen basket to her hands.

“Forgive me for not seeing you,” he apologized.

Beth brushed off her gown. “Of course, sir.”

They followed the same path away from the abbey.

Beth stopped suddenly. “Tobias, might you tell me where your mother is buried? I should like to pay my respects and place flowers on her grave. She was very kind to me when my mother died.”

“Mother did have ulterior motives where you were concerned,” he teased, but uneasiness trickled through him. “We honestly don’t know. My parents are not buried at Romsey. That is another matter to investigate. I cannot remember precisely where the carriage overturned.”

Beth squeezed his arm then quickly stepped back. “I’m sorry. That makes your return all the more bittersweet, doesn’t it?

“Romsey has forever been a source of disappointment.”

Beth frowned. “Why so morose today?”

“A touch maudlin. Nothing to worry about. May I accompany you for a walk?” He fell into step beside her when she nodded. “It’s true that the old duke didn’t kill me with his kindness. I survived.”

Beth sighed. “I’m happy someone will live at Harrowdale again.”

So was he. “The date for my removal isn’t set yet, but I feel it is coming closer. I still need to find servants.”

Beth gave him a strange look. “Do you now?”

“Hmm, just one or two. I’ve simple needs.” Tobias stopped before a shrub and ran his fingers over the dark leaves. The scent of rosemary filled his nose. “Mother’s Rosemary bushes have grown wild and large at the house. It will pain me to do so before my sister can see how they’ve grown, but I will need to cut them back.”

He snapped off a sprig and tucked it in his pocket.

Beth patted his arm affectionately. “You always were so different from your brothers. Never a harsh word, always remembering to show kindness despite your teasing. I am glad to see you unchanged by the years.”

He scowled and looked ahead. “You make me sound weak.”

“No, I think you very strong. You have a generous heart, Tobias Randall. I’m glad time and circumstance haven’t changed you.”

Tobias ducked his head as Beth hurried off. He’d never be that trusting boy again. He still waited for the good to be taken away. He faced the abbey. Inside Romsey, he couldn’t behave as he would like. What he had discovered with Blythe wasn’t a happily ever after. Blythe’s guilt over betraying her husband’s memory was a bucket of ice water over any pleasure they shared. He had to stop thinking of her and wanting more. She’d called a halt to their private association and wouldn’t let him get any further.

He drew in a deep breath, conscious of a heavy weight upon his chest. It was time. He would return to Harrowdale today, and make definite plans for his immediate removal. The moment had come to step back from temptation and leave Blythe alone.

He set off on the most direct path toward Harrowdale, ignoring the light drizzle that fell upon him. But the further away from Romsey his strides took him, the more uncertain he became. It would be lonely at Harrowdale. He’d have to find ways to keep himself busy.

As he broke from the trees a short distance from the house, the smell of wood smoke filled his nose. He glanced around, looking for the source of the fire. When he found none, he hurried toward Harrowdale. Could the place have caught alight in his absence?