Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls 3)

Beth nodded slowly. “He went for a walk with the Randall men and then he’ll probably return to the library.”

“Or stay in Oliver’s company,” Blythe replied with a direct look that unnerved Beth considerably. Did she know that Beth had spent several pleasant interludes in Oliver’s arms? She must not or she wouldn’t be so friendly.

Beth hated lying or withholding the truth from people she cared for. She fingered the belt and then set it aside. She should get started on altering her pelisse. She fetched her scissors and needle and thread and then laid the garment over the bed.

Blythe said not one more word more on the subject of Oliver Randall while they worked through the morning. Luncheon was sent up to an unused room nearby and they paused to eat and talk when Tobias joined them. His mood was somewhat bitter and eventually, Blythe left them in a huff over his surliness.

Tobias stared after Blythe’s departure with glum expression. “Now she’s angry with me.”

“Hardly,” Beth murmured. “She just cannot help you convince Oliver to stay and sees no point in a conversation that goes nowhere.”

Tobias leaned back in his chair, hands sliding over his skull in a way that showed his frustration. “He’s just so damn stubborn.”

“And are not all Randalls stubborn, determined to go their own way? If I remember correctly, you never backed down from a dare.”

“No one is daring Oliver to leave Romsey.”

Beth smiled. He made his own rules and to hell with anyone else. “Oliver is different. He’s always set his own challenges.”

Tobias snorted. “He should have married you. You understand him better than anyone.”

She choked on the tea she’d just sipped and had to cough in order to breathe normally again.

Tobias’s expression grew smug at her discomfort. “Well, it’s bloody obvious there’s been a change between you. I’ve never seen him smile so much. And he has never liked children, but your child is always in his company. What else could account for such behavior?”

Beth set the cup down carefully, horror trickling through her. She did not care to have this conversation with anyone, least of all Oliver’s inquisitive younger brother. “He is merely helping George find material for study.”

Tobias sat forward, peering at her intently. “Is he Oliver’s son?”

Beth stood, shock thrumming through her. “Do not insult me.”

“That wasn’t meant as an insult. That was hope.” Tobias winced. “He’s a fine lad and doesn’t look a bit like William Turner.”

“Well, he certainly is William’s son and you should not repeat that question to me again. I thought you were my friend.”

“I am.” He grimaced and raked his fingers through his hair again. “I just hoped we might be family and you could prevent Oliver from leaving.”

Beth pressed the heel of her hand to her temple. “Oliver alone will choose his future, just as I have chosen mine and George’s. We leave for America in a few days and I’d like your promise not to mention your hopes again. It is doubtful we will ever see each other again once we go, but I should not like bad feelings between us.”

Tobias stood and took her hands in his. The scars on them reminded her that he’d lived as harsh a life as her brother-in-law. Yet Tobias had retained his good temper and kind nature. Except for his insulting suggestion that she’d cuckolded her husband or married another man after being intimate with Oliver, they’d never seriously dis

agreed. Beth would hate to part at odds with him.

“Forgive me. I spent my life hoping for miracles and when one is just out of reach, I struggle to bring it to life.” Tobias folded her in his arms and crushed her against him. “I’m sorry to have upset you. Be safe, my dear girl. Don’t forget to write us of your journeys and let us know where you are. When Rose comes home, she’ll want news of you, too.”

Beth looked up at Tobias when he released her, sympathy overriding her outrage. “I’m so sorry she’s not come. Have your brothers made any decisions on how else to locate her?”

Tobias shook his head. “Leopold will go to London in the spring and hire runners, but without leads I’m not optimistic. Maybe she is dead.”

Sharp pain squeezed Beth’s chest at the idea. Rose couldn’t be dead. The idea was preposterous. Beth pressed Tobias’s hand in hers, trying to instill hope in him. “She’s alive and will be home before you know it. Just remember when she is, you’ll likely wish for peace again.”

Tobias laughed at her prediction. “You and Rose were the best of friends. As good as sisters, or would have been if my brother had shut his books long enough to consider it. Where do you think she could be?”

“I’ve done nothing but worry for her welfare for ten years, too. I’ve no idea where she’d go. What of your mother’s friends? Do you remember any of them?”

“No.”

She sighed, unable to think of a single name that would not have already been investigated. “If she doesn’t see the advertisements placed in the papers, and her whereabouts is not known by any past acquaintances that Leopold or Oliver can recall, then all we can hope for is that Rosemary chooses to return on her own.”