Forsaking the Prize (The Wild Randalls 2)

“Thank you for your assistance, Mrs. Drake. I’ll call when he wakes or if I should require any further assistance this morning. I feel certain rest is the best thing for all of us right now.”

The innkeeper’s wife frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right with him? He is one of them mad fellows, you know.”

Blythe glanced at the bed. Seventeen, in his current state of health, was too weak to get into any mischief. “I’m sure I’m in no danger.”

Mrs. Drake didn’t appear entirely convinced. “All right then, but I’ll be back to check on you and your husband. Can’t have the hero of Skepington and his lady murdered by the madman he saved.”

Blythe smiled as Mrs. Drake let herself out, thinking how Tobias had dismissed the honor of being called a hero. She snuggled up against him on the settee, falling into his arms as if she belonged with him. Tonight he’d been extraordinary. She would always think of him as a hero.

~ * ~

Some time later, Blythe opened her eyes and screamed. Seventeen’s face was inches from hers. She scrambled backwards, falling off the settee in the process. On his feet, Seventeen was much taller than she’d imagined he’d be. She glanced around desperately, but Tobias wasn’t in the room.

Footsteps pounded up the hall outside and the door crashed open. “Blythe,” Tobias called.

“I’m here.”

He pulled her to her feet and helped straighten her skirts. “What happened?”

She glanced around. Seventeen had disappeared. “He scared me. I woke and he was staring at me, inches away from my face.”

Tobias circled the bed and stopped with his hands on his hips. “If you come close to her again I swear you’ll wish you had not.”

Blythe hurried to see where Seventeen had hidden. He huddled against the wall, hands curved over his head. “I thought I was dreaming,” he said over and over.

“Stop, Tobias. You’ve frightened him.”

More footsteps pounded up the hall and Mrs. Drake rushed in. “What’s going on here. I was with a customer below when I heard the most piercing scream I’ve ever heard.”

Blythe blushed. “Sorry. That was me. Everything is fine now. You can go.”

Mrs. Drake appeared skeptical, but ducked out the door again.

“A singularly rare talent,” Seventeen muttered. “One octave higher and she’d break glass.”

“You, be quiet,” Tobias said to the man on the floor and drew Blythe into his arms. “At least I’ll know when you need me. That was quite unexpectedly loud.”

“Ooh, now you shouldn’t be up here until invited proper like, sir,” Mrs. Drake protested as the door handle to the room rattled.

“Mrs. Drake, I should like to see the fellow that was recovered,” a deep voice demanded. “What did you say his name was?”

Blythe stepped out of Tobias’ arms quickly as she recognized the voice. The door opene

d. “Lord Merrow, so good of you to come?”

Merrow raised an eyebrow and glanced behind her. “Lady Venables? What in heavens name are you doing here?”

Panic gripped her to be found by a member of the ton. She hoped she could talk her way out of this without bringing her good name and character into question. “It was a last minute decision, my lord. May I present Mr. Tobias Randall?”

The two men nodded to each other warily. Merrow frowned. “One of the Romsey Randall’s? Yes, I remember seeing you at Lady Dunwoody’s soiree, but we were not introduced.”

Blythe drew herself up tall as Lord Merrow looked about the chamber. “That is unfortunate, my lord. But Mr. Randall and I were, in fact, coming to see you this morning about Skepington Hall. However, I fear our timing was imperfect.”

“Yes, I’ve seen the damage and I cannot say I am unhappy about it. A yoke about my neck it was.”

Tobias took a step forward, fist clenched. Blythe flung out her arm and prevented him from throttling Lord Merrow for his lack of compassion in the face of such a tragedy. “We were coming to enquire about a man of our acquaintance that we feared was interred there.”

Merrow blanched. “Forgive me. Cursed bad timing. I’ve been informed few made it out alive.”