“I only did what was right,” Her Grace argued.
“And that is something the other duchess’s could not accomplish,” Oliver added. “There has been discord within the Randalls for centuries.” He knew the family history quite well, thanks to his ability to remember everything he was told or saw with his own eyes.
“Well, that is certainly behind us now,” the duchess insisted, laying her hand upon Leopold’s. “We shall all be very happy together for many years to come, I’m sure.”
A ripple of unease flooded Oliver. He wished she would not profess to know the future as it related to him. He would be gone soon. He could never be happy here. As he opened his mouth to say so, Elizabeth’s hand slid sideways and pressed against his thigh, efficiently silencing his protest.
“How goes the improvements, Mr. Randall?” She asked her question firmly without sparing him a single glance. “Is everything working out with the new farmhands as you hoped?”
Oliver’s leg remembered her touch far longer than was good for him. As the discussion progressed, he studied his dinner companion, impressed by her skill at steering conversation away from an emotional subject. Her pale blue eyes were fixed on Leopold, silently encouraging him to speak of estate matters, and did not veer once in his direction no matter how long he observed her.
While his brother spoke so expansively of crops and likely yields, Oliver resumed his meal in silence, listening with half an ear, discontent with the small, never-ending concerns that filled his brother’s days yet aware of the woman at his left. She puzzled him immensely. If he didn’t know better, he’d believe that she’d used her allure to tie his tongue on purpose.
“What do you think, Oliver?”
He raised his head and met Blythe’s gaze. “Forgive me. I wasn’t paying attention just then,” he admitted honestly.
Her brows rose. “As I thought. You and I, sir, need to have a little chat very soon.”
Tobias laughed. “Now you’ve done it, Ollie.”
Oliver had respected Blythe’s opinion from the moment they met, but he was in no way intimidated by her. “I cannot imagine what you hope to gain by such a candid discussion but if you feel compelled to lecture me, then by all means, you may do your worst at your earliest convenience.”
“Oliver,” Elizabeth hissed.
He slid his glance sideways, face warming at her rare use of his given name. He wanted to hear it again. “I beg your pardon.”
A frown line formed on Elizabeth’s brow. “Nothing.”
When Oliver glanced back across the table, Blythe’s lips had pressed together in a tight line. Blythe might not like it, but he wouldn’t be taken to task over the dinner table. She said nothing, so Oliver returned his attention to the meal and stayed silent until the end.
Elizabeth stood as the other women rose; her hand brushed his coat sleeve lightly. “You hurt Lady Venables’s feelings,” she said softly, blue eyes flickering to his face, disappointment clear in her gaze. “Apologize to her.”
He remained on his feet until the ladies had swept out in a rustle of silk and animated chatter and then sank into his chair again. Yet he couldn’t work out what he should apologize for. They had disturbed him. He would have happily remained apart in the library but he’d been given no choice. And now he had to remain here for at least another half hour, drinking and discussing the estate yet again.
Leopold handed around glasses of port. “I am always amazed that someone with your intelligence, Oliver, could irritate almost every person they meet.”
Tobias grinned. “Imagine the damage he will do on the continent.”
“Please, I’m trying not to picture that.” Leopold sat forward. “Are you sure you must go? We’ve only just got you back.”
A brief rush of heat swept his skin again. Devil take it! Perhaps he was not yet fully recovered from his ordeal. A light sweat broke out over his skin, and he pushed the port away untouched. He could not risk missing his ship because he had sickened. “Are you sure you shouldn’t just come with me,” he countered as he steadied himself against the table.
“I need to stay with Edwin,” Leopold said immediately. “I would never be easy to leave him behind.”
Oliver frowned. Leopold’s strong feelings for the child baffled him. He’d only known the duke for a short time. What difference might another year or two make?
Tobias lifted his feet and set his heels to the edge of the table. “Blythe would never forgive me if I left her behind and I have no intention of exposing her to the dangers beyond England’s borders. Honestly, I’m not keen on facing them again myself. Life is much better here than away.”
When Leopold nodded his agreement, Oliver stood and stared around him, irritated beyond belief. They would never yield and he should stop expecting them to fall in with his plans. “Then I go alone and from now on you pair can keep your opinions to yourself.”
Tobias, ever the peacemaker, leapt to his feet and laid a hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “Do not be cross with us.”
Oliver shrugged off the weight of Tobias’s grasp and faced them. “I am not cross. Only disappointed. You are each determined to remain leashed to the estate and the past. I will not.”
Tobias’s smile dimmed. “Can you not wait for news of Rosemary? The advertisements have been published in the Times and she will want to see you.”
Oliver shook his head, ignoring the hurt forming in his younger brother’s eyes. “Rosemary will understand my restlessness and I am sure you can write to me of her triumphant return when I’m settled in Rome.”