Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls 3)

She swallowed, suddenly nervous. “He’s upstairs.”

“Working as a pot boy in the great house?” His voice hardened with a tinge of anger and Beth drew her shawl closer around her shoulders. She hoped he assumed she was simply chilled.

Her Grace laughed suddenly, breaking the tension. “Of course not. He’s become quite a favorite with the young duke. The best of friends, in fact.”

“Ah,” Henry said, his smile returned in a split second. “That’s all the better. Cannot bear the idea of my brother’s son, my heir, slaving away when there is no need. He shall never toil in service. Not when he can have servants of his own in America to do his bidding.”

The mention of George being Henry’s heir blindsided her. “You are going back?”

Henry sat forward, a superior gleam in his eye. “My interests in America are vast and it’s fitting that young George sees firsthand what will be his one day.”

Never for a moment had she imagined Henry returning to take George away. She felt a little faint at the idea.

“Shall we sit?” Leopold caught her elbow before she toppled over and steered her toward a spot beside the duchess. When Her Grace caught her hand, Beth gripped her tightly until her panic settled. Her brother-in-law beamed as if she should be happy about his news, but she was utterly terrified of this new development.

Leopold faced Henry. “Tell us more about America, Turner. I’ve heard such conflicting stories.”

Henry spread his hands before him. “Business is booming. Profits are up and expenses are low. It’s a prime time to be in business and we are doing well.”

“So, you’ve family in America?”

Henry laughed rudely. “No. No. My partners and I are confirmed bachelors, every last one. That’s why young George is so important to me.”

Beth licked her lips. “You never married?”

Henry sat back in his chair and looked about him with a speculative gleam in his eye. “Never found the time. It was a hard life to begin with and I’ve not the time to dance attendance on females. As you can imagine, you don’t get far with a woman in tow.”

She and the duchess exchanged a horrified glance. Henry Turner was not an enlightened man. Her Grace squeezed her hand in a silent gesture of support.

When Beth caught a glimpse of Leopold’s face, he’d turned an unhealthy shade of red. “Come now,” Leopold chided. “There is as much to be gained from a woman’s point of view as any man’s.” He spoke with a distinct growl to his tone and Beth silently cheered his good sense. No wonder the duchess loved Leopold Randall so much. Not many men she’d met in her life would voice support for the fairer sex’s usefulness. He’d been such a stalwart friend when he could have abandoned them without looking back. But he’d ensured she and George were comfortable in their own cottage and had eventually brought them into the abbey on the pretext they were filling a need.

She had seen through his plans at the time, but she’d been so moved by his determination to help that she’d agreed. She hadn’t regretted her decision to act as Lady Venables’s paid companion and when it was clear the countess would marry Tobias Randall, she’d found a way to repay his kindness by entering the duchess’s service.

Henry shrugged aside Leopold’s comment as if it were of no significance. “George will see that things are different in the colony and learn to act accordingly.”

A tiny gasp left the duchess’s lips and Beth feared she’d cut her brother-in-law down to size. However, for a change, Her Grace did not flay the man. She regarded him coolly and played with the band of diamonds around her wrist. “Where does your estate lie, Mr. Turner?”

“Augusta.” The location meant nothing to Beth.

“And what do you grow there?” The duchess managed the question with so much disdain that Beth would have laughed if not for her need to appease her brother-in-law.

“Cotton.”

“I’ve heard you need a good many field hands to do well. Do you have trouble finding reliable workers? Do you own slaves?”

Proper land management required plentiful hands and here at Romsey, Leopold had been striving to increase their numbers. Slave ownership in England was against the law but the practice still thrived elsewhere. Henry’s glance flickered around the room. His eyes narrowed. “I’ve a few darkies about the place but they are free to come and go as they choose.”

Beth didn’t believe him. He was up to his neck in slaves but wouldn’t admit it to the Duchess of Romsey.

Chapter Nine

OLIVER TOOK A pace back from the door and from Blythe. She followed, a frown marring her features, and shook her head at him. “I had no idea it ran in the family. I thought you at least would be spared.”

“It?”

She scowled. “Impulsiveness. A careless disregard for the rules and a lady’s reputation. What were you thinking?”

“Elizabeth is—” he began, but she cut him off with an impatient swipe of her hand.