Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls 3)

Her husband leaned forward. “How long do we have to mingle?”

“As long as your wife requires,” Beth teased. Tobias hadn’t been too comfortable around most of the exalted guests invited for the wedding in the past few days, but for Blythe’s sake he’d kept his boredom from showing until now. “You have the wedding breakfast and toasts to sit through next and then…”

Beth left the rest unsaid. Once the newly married couples had departed the breakfast, the guests would amuse themselves until their departure. Careful planning meant that everything was arranged in advance and Beth had nothing further to do today.

She scanned the room and then heaved a sigh when she couldn’t find the man she wanted. Oliver had been even less inclined to talk to the guests than Tobias and had already disappeared. At least she knew where he’d probably be. He’ll have taken George to the library to continue his study of languages.

Oliver hurried George into Romsey’s long gallery where the wedding breakfast was being held. He slid into his place beside Elizabeth as George took the other, just in time to hear a guest propose a toast to the couples’ happiness and contentment.

Judging by the dreamy smile that played over the duchess’s face that contentment would only increase in the next few months’ time when she announced that she carried Leopold’s child.

When Elizabeth put her glass down, she turned to him. “Where were you?”

“It’s a surprise for later,” Oliver said with a wink. It had taken him and George little time to make their preparations for their first adventure. After careful consideration, he wasn’t giving Elizabeth a chance to change her mind.

He suffered through the small talk expected when dining with strangers, keeping one eye on the brides and grooms. First Tobias and Blythe disappeared from sight and then Leopold, on seeing their younger brother had already absconded with his bride, grabbed the duchess’s hand and lured her away from her friends.

Oliver bowed his head as he laughed at his brothers’ hurry to get their brides alone. He was feeling a similar inclination for privacy with Elizabeth, although he had to wait some hours for that likelihood. When Beth appeared restless, he helped her stand and gave the signal, a nod to George, for him to leave via the side door.

When Elizabeth looked about for her son a little anxiously, Oliver held out his arm. “He’s this way, my angel.”

A pretty blush swept over her cheeks and she allowed him to draw her to the entrance hall. Eamon waited with his and Elizabeth’s cloaks draped over his arm. “Carriage is ready and waiting, sir.”

“Excellent.” Oliver slipped into his topcoat. “You know what to do?”

“Of course.” Eamon snapped out the cloak and covered Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Best slip this on, Mrs. Turner. A light snow is falling and we don’t want you catching a chill.”

“Oliver?” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “What are you up to?”

Oliver caught her hand in his and squeezed. “Leopold and Mercy are likely to be in each other’s pockets as soon as the guests have departed tomorrow. Tobias and Blythe will be at Harrowdale and will hardly want anyone. I thought you and I might undertake our first adventure together. A trip to Scotland, if you agree, to be married as soon as we cross the border.”

A deep frown line appeared between her brows. “I don’t know. I couldn’t leave George behind with a pair of distracted newlyweds. What if you’re wrong and Henry comes back?”

Oliver smiled down at her. “Can you not guess what plans I’ve made?”

She looked about them quickly. “Where’s George?”

He tipped his head toward the front doors as Eamon opened them. “Outside. Waiting in the carriage for his mother to hurry up and elope. He’s very keen to visit Scotland and I couldn’t deprive him of the chance to see his fondest wish for us to be married come true. He’s not always a patient boy, apparently. He seems to want to call me papa very much and cannot wait for the banns to be called.”

“He’ll be as old as us if you two don’t get a move on,” Eamon grumbled as he held the door open despite the draft.

Oliver glanced out to the carriage and spotted George’s face pressed to the glass. Her son gestured for them to hurry up, practically bouncing on the padded benches in his eagerness to be underway.

Beth caught his arm. “I can’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“Yes, you can. I already told my brothers what I was planning last night and received their full blessing. Now, come along, my angel. The housekeeper has packed everything you could possibly need and we’ve many days till we reach the border. George suggested a detour into Wales on the return trip, but it depends on you and the weather not being against us.”

“You’ve convinced my son to conspire against me,” she said as he handed her into the carriage. “You know I always feared your influence over him and it seems I was right to be wary.”

Her words sounded aggrieved, but when he poked his head through the doorway her blue eyes were bright with amusement. She leaned out again to touch his face.

Oliver caught her hand and kissed it. “I have to say, his help has been most appreciated. You should know it was his idea that we elope, not mine.”

George rolled his eyes. “He would have waited forever.”

When Elizabeth launched herself at her son, tickling him for his part in their conspiracy, Oliver drew back, rather pleased with her easy acceptance of their plans. There’d always been a chance she’d refuse and want to wait for the banns to be called, but bringing George along on the trip to Scotland had eased her mind. Having the boy along was hardly an inconvenience. After all, her child was part of his fate.

He checked the carriage was properly loaded and turned to Romsey’s butler. “Should be back in three weeks, four at the outside if the weather is against us.” He shook Eamon’s hand and then glanced up at the façade of the abbey. The stone work was really quite breathtaking. He should make a note of it in the history he was writing.