Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls 3)

Beth couldn’t move. She sat in shocked horror as Leopold reached across the table, grabbed Henry by his cravat and hauled him toward the doorway. “How dare you?”

“Leopold, no,” Mercy cried out.

“It’s either him or me,” Tobias promised, joining with his brother as they forced Henry from the room.

The sneer that crossed Henry’s face made Beth shudder and she hurried to her son’s side and asked him to leave with the servant escorting the young duke out of the room. He’d seen and heard far too much already. Heaven knew what Henry had whispered into George’s ear during the meal.

Thankfully, her son was eager to comply with her wishes. When he was gone, she faced her brother-in-law. Had this ugly mood been simmering from the moment of his arriva

l?

While there was little difference on the surface, it was hard to ignore the curled fist at his side. Beth bravely stepped forward. “Come now, Henry. There’s no need to argue like this.”

He moved closer and the fumes of excessive drinking rolled over her. She gagged at the strong scent. Was Henry too drunk to be reasoned with? Tobias grabbed her arm suddenly and hauled her behind him.

“So that’s the way it is, eh?” Henry nodded. “One or all, it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference. You’re all the same.”

He pivoted and strode for the door, threw it wide, and stormed from the house. Beth stared after him in shocked silence. After a moment, embarrassment filled her. “I’m so very sorry about that. He was very drunk, I fear.”

Tobias set his arm gently about her. “He was more than drunk, but you are blameless for any of that. You’ve not one thing to be sorry for, believe me.”

Panic welled in her. “He’s family.”

Family that she’d have to live with. Her future did not look at all bright or lovely if she had to contend with a temper like that. Her husband had been far kinder than his sibling. She wondered how she had never known that before. Beth wrapped her arms about herself and trembled. She’d given her word to go to America, but she could not allow that man one more moment near her son. But how could she stay? What Henry wanted, he took. He’d been very clear about that. He’d cause more trouble for the Randalls than she ever wanted them to suffer.

“Good riddance to him,” Mercy huffed as she and Blythe surrounded her. “You’re not leaving with that man. I absolutely will not allow you to go.”

“I agree,” Leopold said firmly as he joined them. “William would turn in his grave if he could see how his brother just spoke to you. I could never be easy if you went with him. You and George will stay with us, for the rest of your life if you wish it. We’ll convince him to return to America alone even if I have to pay the blackmail he hinted at three times over.”

Beth shook as a sob lodged in her throat. She blubbered out her thanks as she wept into her hands. The Randalls were such good and generous people to excuse her for bringing Henry into their midst. She didn’t deserve their loyalty or support but she would take it for the sake of her son.

They led her back to the drawing room chairs, and after a time Henry was forgotten and talk turned to lighter matters and the wedding guests expected to come. After careful consideration, Mercy had whittled down her larger guest list to include only the very closest of friends. “I just cannot face a room of one hundred people asking the same question, ‘where are the brother and sister now?’”

A sudden yearning filled Beth’s heart. She wished Oliver were with them. He would know whether Henry would go away or not. She might not have always liked his bluntly worded truths, but she’d come to depend on them.

When the time came to say goodnight, Beth wearily trudged to her bedchamber.

George was awake and waiting for her. “Has he gone?” he asked immediately.

Beth nodded. “Yes, he took himself away an hour ago.”

“Thank goodness,” George muttered as he burrowed into her bed the way he had as a young boy. If he did that he was surely upset.

Beth sat next to him and caught up his hand. “We’re not going. I’ll tell your uncle tomorrow that you may choose to join him when you are older and of age.”

“I won’t go,” George insisted, his hands slipping from hers. “Why does he say such horrible things about you?”

Beth’s hands grew clammy and she rubbed them together anxiously. She drew a deep breath. “I think Uncle Henry hasn’t had a very happy life. We’ve always had each other and he resents how close we are. You’re his heir and he feels you should obey him without question.”

George scowled. “Didn’t like what he said about the duke. He’s still a baby and shouldn’t be laughed at like that.”

Beth’s heart overflowed with love for her son. “Yes, he is. But luckily he is too young to remember what has been said of him.”

George met her gaze. “Will we leave Romsey now that you’ve not got a position? I remember you wanted one.”

Beth shook her head. “The duchess insists we stay.”

George launched up from the bed, wrapped his arms about her neck, and hugged her tightly. “Then I will see my friend again.”