Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls 3)

“Nothing for the moment, thank you.”

The new second footman came next before Beth had had a chance to pour a drop of tea, carrying a bucket full of coal. When he went out, Beth had to wonder who else might come trooping through her door. She should have considered that the servants reporting to her would attempt to curry favor with the new housekeeper.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted George watching her from the other room. She tipped her head in the direction of the plate of biscuits and he snagged two before retreating.

Another footman arrived with a large desk blotter; an upstairs maid appeared, ink bottle in one hand, quill in the other. After an ongoing procession of servants bearing gifts, the first footman returned. “Cook is asking for the store cupboard to be opened.”

Beth smiled. “I’ll be there momentarily. You can take the tea tray away now.”

She poked her head into the other room to see what George was doing and found him dozing in one of the chairs. He’d had a trying day so she eased the door closed and headed for the kitchens at a brisk, businesslike pace. The cavernous rooms were quiet, new servants sitting about the long table idly, waiting for work to do. Beth reached for the keys. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Roach. Are you settled in well enough?”

The older woman’s glance dropped to the keys in her hands and a scowl crossed her features. “Well enough, but I’ll never get used to having to ask for the store cupboard key. Never had to in my other positions.”

Mrs. Roach had come on a recommendation from one of Her Grace’s many friends. She seemed competent enough to keep the kitchen running smoothly and she’d already won Her Grace and the little duke over with her baking skills. Yet the duchess was hesitant to trust the new servants completely. The last ones, the servants that Beth and Mrs. Roach were replacing, had liberated quite a few precious commodities as they had made their escape on the night of Oliver’s return. She didn’t blame the duchess one bit for being cautious. “Well, I imagine it won’t be for long.”

Beth hurried to open the locked door and stood to one side as the cook and her assistants took out what they needed to make the evening meal into a feast. Even the servants, from what she’d observed, ate very well at Romsey. Later, she would dine in the upper servants’ hall. Another disappointment with her new role was that George would spend his evening meal alone from now on. She wouldn’t allow him to keep company with the stable master’s sons anymore without being there to watch over him. She’d have a tray sent up to his bedchamber or he could dine in the housekeeper’s sitting room and return to his studies as soon as he finished eating.

Since Cook was surly about the key issue and took more time than necessary, forcing Beth to cool her heels in the hot kitchens, she was delayed over half an hour. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and hoped George hadn’t woken during her absence. She should have left him a note to explain where she’d gone. Tonight, after dinner, they would work out a system and decide where he would spend his evenings and his days. She didn’t like the idea of him prowling the estate alone.

Eventually, Mrs. Roach agreed she had everything she needed and Beth hurried to the sitting room and George.

Luckily, George was still asleep. But he had company. Oliver Randall sat in another armchair, staring into the hearth’s flames.

Chapter Five

A FLOORBOARD CREAKED and Oliver immediately raised his head from his contemplation of the flames. “I did not wish to disturb him.”

Elizabeth’s wary gaze flowed over him like a hot touch on his bare skin.

She dipped a quick curtsy. “Good afternoon, Mr. Randall. Can I be of assistance?”

He stood and moved toward her, keeping his steps light so as not to disturb the sleeping boy. Elizabeth backed from the room quickly and when he passed her, she pulled the door to the sitting room until it was almost completely closed.

Unless they were at dinner, they had rarely been in close proximity and never alone like this. For a moment he was tongue-tied, so he focused on her appearance. Today Elizabeth was dressed in a somber style. Plain gown, hair confined tightly at the back of her head. She appeared almost as prim as Lady Venables, except in a gown of far lower quality. He frowned at it, wondering why she had retained such an inferior gown when he’d seen her wear far better.

She folded her arms over her chest, drawing his attention to the possibilities of the body beneath the gown. Elizabeth was still as slim as he remembered from a decade before. However, her breasts were fuller and pressed against the constricting fabric enticingly. He took a pace forward and her dark brows drew together over pale blue eyes framed by thick lashes. When she took her lip between her teeth, he broke out in a sweat. He took stock of his health, half afraid he was relapsing into illness again, and then dismissed his concerns. “I did not know you had a child.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, her eyes grew unfocussed as if in thought. “George turned eleven last spring.”

“The date.”

Her gaze sharpened at his demand and her head tipped to the side as she told him the particulars.

Oliver stored the detail away for later consideration. “Do you have other children here?”

Elizabeth’s mouth firmed. When she didn’t answer, Oliver concluded he’d blundered into a delicate area. If they had died or been sent away to live with distant Turner relations he wasn’t aware of, she might be upset over the loss. By her pained expression, there must have been more than just George at one time.

He glanced toward the door where the boy slept. “In appearance, he is more like you than him. That must please you. If I recall correctly, he had possessed a pair of unevenly matched ears. At least the boy will be saved from being teased about them.”

Elizabeth sank into the chair behind the desk, eyes downcast as if she agreed with him but wouldn’t speak of it.

Oliver continued his assessment. “The boy’s face and build most resemble yours. He has none of the rude bulk of him either. To make an informed evaluation of his temperament would require him to be awake; however, he does appear in good health.”

Beth sat forward, clasping her hands before her on the desk. Her knuckles turned white. “How long were you watching my son?”

Oliver lowered himself to the edge of a chair. It creaked slightly and he determined it should be replaced. “The proper study of a subject can take a moment or a lifetime.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “For all your brilliance you still cannot answer a direct question simply. I ask again, what brings you to here?”