Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

“You’ve spoken of me when you’ve gone courting her.”

“Of course I’ve spoken of you. Why else ... wait. Do you imagine I am courting your friend?”

When Blythe nodded, he grabbed her arm, hope and doubt warring within him. Was she jealous? He shook his head. “I was trying to convince her that she’d made a cake of herself. I don’t want her. I want you. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire life.”

A man coughed. “Evening, Sir. Madam. I’m Jeremiah Drake, owner of this establishment. Can I be of help to you both?”

Blythe faced the newcomer, but Tobias caught a glimpse of the smile that burst across her face. “My husband and I require accommodations for the evening, Mr. Drake. Dinner, some wine, and a warm chamber with a comfortable bed.”

Husband? Tobias caught Blythe’s hand, but she did not look at him.

The innkeeper unhooked the straps holding her small trunk to the rear of the chaise and hefted it over his shoulder. “Very good, Madam. Sir. If you’ll come this way.”

As the innkeeper hurried for the building, Blythe threw a shy smile over her shoulder. “Leave the horse for the boy, darling. I need a bath and a good nights sleep after the long day we’ve had.”

Tobias tugged her against his chest. “Since when have you ever thought of me fondly enough to call me any name beside pirate?”

Her gaze searched his. “Familiarity will convince others that we are man and wife. I hope the ruse might save my reputation.” She hurried after the innkeeper.

Bemused by her ploy, Tobias followed her inside the inn. The tap room contained a noisy crowd, but the innkeeper quickly directed them to a smaller dining room well away from the noise where a cheerful fire burned. Blythe hurried to the hearth.

What the devil was she thinking to be speaking endearments to him so freely? He’d give his eye teeth to know if she meant them.

Mr. Drake stomped upstairs with their baggage as a woman approached. “Welcome. I’m Mrs. Drake. You’ve met my husband already. We have onion soup, pork pie and roast beef.”

Blythe stripped off her gloves and held her hands out to the flames. “That will be acceptable, thank you, but can you fetch ale for my husband.”

“Oh dearie, you must be chilled through. I’ll send up warming pans for the bed directly to heat the linen. If there is anything you need just ask.” The innkeeper’s wife bobbed a curtsey and bustled out.

Tobias drew closer to Blythe and caught up one of her hands. “That’s the second time you’ve referred to me as your husband?”

She shrugged and dug into her reticule. “It seemed a good choice to avoid uncomfortable questions being asked. Just sign the register as Mr. and Mrs. Randall. No one will question you too closely. Besides, a place such as this would give a married couple their best room if available and I detest sleeping on lumpy mattresses.”

Tobias caressed her waist. “So, we’ll be sharing a room, B. A bed, too.”

“That is what married couples often do.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “It cannot be helped. It ensures that you do not visit Skepington without me. I’ll not be left behind in the morning wondering if he is there. I warn you, I sleep lightly. I’m coming with you.”

“A mad house is no place for you.”

She pressed a handful of coins into his palm. “This should cover any expenses we incur here. Don’t argue.”

He dropped his arm from her waist and thrust the money back at her. “I cannot take your money. You haven’t enough as it is.” He’d forgotten about needing funds on the trip and the little money he had was hidden behind a drawer at Romsey. He would have slept in the stables, but he couldn’t expect Blythe to do so.

She frowned. “You will if you want to eat tonight and in the morning. The expense is nothing to me. Besides, the money is for the innkeeper, not you personally. I would have spent the same amount should you have stayed behind. A husband would manage such discussions rather than his wife. Don’t worry about the matter. You can repay me when we return home and no one will ever know.”

“I’ll know.” He walked a few paces away and then turned back. “Did anyone ever tell you that you are a frustrating woman?”

She smiled instead of answering and returned to warming her hands. Tobias threw his hands up in the air. Frustrating, beguiling, and quite likely correct about everything. He paced the room; glad to stretch his legs and be free of the restrictions of the small carriage and Blythe’s proximity. By mid-afternoon he’d actually begun to enjoy tooling the carriage along the road and was no longer plagued by memories of his parents as the carriage pitched over on its side. It helped to have Blythe at his side, occasionally touching him as they talked. Yet he worried about his brother and the beautiful woman determined to risk her reputation to recover him. Tobias hoped they’d not come on a fools errand.

He glanced at her again, noticing how she hugged the hearth. She must be chilled to the bone. They should have taken one of the duchess’ larger carriages instead of sneaking away. He could warm her easily if she were in his arms.

Unfortunately, the innkeeper’s wife chose that moment to deliver their food. The maid he’d glimpsed in the upstairs window carried a pitcher of ale. The wench peeked at him from under her lashes, inviting with just her eyes. Blythe smoothly stepped between them, as if protecting him from a wild beast. He smothered a laugh. All thoughts of the wench had vanished the moment Blythe referred to him as her husband. A small kernel of hope had bloomed as she’d taken charge as if she was in truth his wife.

The maid, without a reason or encouragement to linger, was sent away by Mrs. Drake. “Your chamber is prepared for you, Mrs. Randall. I’ll send up hot water shortly.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Drake. That would be very welcome after today.”

Blythe moved to the table and Tobias hurried to draw out her chair for her. When she sat, he kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for today.”