Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls 3)

She glanced across the room at Mercy and forced yet another smile to her face. The poor woman didn’t seem her usual glad self tonight either. No one did. Oliver’s departure had affected everyone’s spirits for the worse. If not for Henry being invited to dine, Beth would have begged pardon and retreated to her room to nurse her disappointment and worries in private.

A sudden happy giggle turned her gaze across the room. The young duke played with George, blissfully unaware of the miserable faces around him. George caught her eye, smiling a little sadly as the young duke rushed across the room to his family to show them his toys. She’d never fully realized the deaths of his siblings and father affected George so badly still. Her heart went out to him. At least they would have each other to cling to in the years to come. They would be all the family they needed.

“Edwin will be so lonely when George goes,” Blythe murmured. “They’ve become the best of friends.”

“He won’t be lonely for too long. Aren’t Lord Grayling and his daughters expected soon?” Beth hoped her question would hold off any discussion about their imminent departure. She was doing her best not to dwell on it or burst into tears.

The sisters exchanged a look. “Still no word and we’ve decided not to wait for him any longer,” Blythe confessed, a pleased smile lifting her lips as she glanced at Tobias where he sat beside her. “If Gray misses our weddings it will be his own fault.”

“Happy to wait as long as you need, sweetheart,” Tobias assured Blythe with a cheeky wink. “I am yours to command.”

Beth couldn’t help but laugh at the changes wrought by a few short weeks. Instead of surliness and reluctance, Tobias appeared ready to do anything Blythe demanded of him. So far, all she’d asked was that he dress as a gentleman, so gloves and hat had become essential for him at all times. Occasionally he had to be reminded, but Beth had a suspicion he enjoyed his future wife’s fussing so much that he forgot on purpose.

The drawing-room doors opened after a brief knock and the newly promoted butler announced their guest had arrived. Henry strode in, a pleased grin fixed to his face, and bowed to the duchess extravagantly. “Your Grace, you look as lovely as ever.”

Even that small compliment didn’t lift Mercy’s spirits enough to do more than cause her lips to turn up slightly. “You’re too kind.”

He greeted everyone else in turn, made a fuss, and had George come to shake his hand so he could speak a few private words to him before he faced Elizabeth.

His brief nod was curt and then he immediately faced Leopold to discuss the success of the day’s hunt as if there was no one else in the room. Beth’s cheeks flamed with heat at his rudeness and she bit her lip, appalled that her brother-in-law could behave so badly so very easily.

Mercy smoothly interrupted the gentlemen when their conversation appeared never-ending. She coiled her arm about Leopold’s and offered a hesitant smile when they fell silent. “You’ll have to forgive our odd moods tonight, sir. Oliver’s departure for the continent has made us all a trifle sad this evening,” the duchess confessed.

“In my book that would be cause for celebration.” Henry laughed. “Always such an odd fish. Never one for carousing or charming the ladies as all men do. Always had his head in a book and couldn’t be bothered with manly pursuits.”

Leopold’s lips lifted in a wry smile as if he agreed. Clearly Leopold did not know that Oliver could turn a lady’s head quite effectively once he put his mind to it. “Everyone has their own interests, Turner. Tell me, what is there to do in America that occupies your free time? Do you go to the races or hunt?”

“There’s races aplenty, and hunts if you’re well connected and know where to find your quarry. A man can always find sport of some description, just as you can on any great estate.” As he spoke, Henry’s demeanor shifted ever so slightly as if remembering the thrill of the chase pleased him immensely. His gaze slid from Mercy to Blythe with a barely veiled hunger glittering in his eyes that sent alarm bells racing through her veins.

“Shooting parties are rare at Romsey,” Mercy said with a merry laugh as she missed the sly look completely. “In fact, I believe your outing with Leopold may have been the first in many years.”

Henry peered at Tobias. “Really? That’s not what I’ve heard. I was led to believe you had trouble some time back with a ruffian and had the whole village on the hunt.”

“A misunderstanding,” Leopold said quietly. “And not something on which we will dwell.”

“Not surprising.” Henry nodded sagely, hand sliding into his pocket. The sound of coins clinking together was very clear. “After everything I’ve heard, you must be keen to ensure the whole of it is forgotten and behind you.”

The coins clinked again as Henry’s gaze flittered about.

Both Randall men drew closer to her brother-in-law, their eyes alight with anger. “If you’ve something to say, Turner, then say it.”

Beth stood, suddenly afraid that the gentlemen would come to blows on her last night here. She didn’t want any unpleasantness left behind when she departed, and certainly none instigated by her unpleasant brother-in-law. “Please,” she said quickly. “Shouldn’t we all go in to dinner now?”

Henry laughed, a cruel sound that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Keep your wig on, woman. I was just fishing to see if the gossip is true. Lord knows a man must protect his family from idle tongues or the influence of an improper person on their family.”

Mercy and Blythe quickly crossed the room to her side and together they ushered the children toward the dining room. On their last night here, George was to eat with the adults. And since George was here, so too was young Edwin.

When Beth attempted to sit at Henry’s right, he insisted George take her place. She moved to accommodate his wishes without a fuss and tried to slow her frightened heart.

Throughout the meal, she couldn’t miss the way he kept his conversation fixed on George, occasionally casting scowls on those around him as they talked of local matters. His glass was refilled more often than anyone else’s. His manners at the table slipped.

Not even the young duke was overlooked for Henry’s amusement. When Edwin accidentally knocked his mother’s glass over, spilling her wine on the fine white tablecloth, Henry laughed uproariously and slapped his knee. “Says a lot for the future of the estate, doesn’t it? Can’t hold his liquor.”

He raised his glass to the sobbing child and drank deeply until it was empty. “Fill it again,” he demanded of the footman standing in attendance behind him.

Leopold stood and waved the footman back. “I think you’ve had just about enough for one evening.”

Henry leered at Mercy. “I think you should shut up. Are you sure she’s a duchess? She’s practically dancing in your lap.”