Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

Rosemary’s heart broke. The hesitant smile on Tobias’s face was so painfully familiar that she started to sob. His long arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly against his chest. When she moved her hands over his back, she detected odd lumps covering his skin beneath the linen. He had been whipped. When he stilled, she buried her face in his shoulder and cried her heart out.

How could anyone have hurt her brother? He was the kindest and gentlest of them all. He rocked her gently and handed her a lacey scrap of handkerchief that clearly belonged to his wife. Rosemary released Tobias and quickly dabbed at her tears. She never cried. At least, she never did where anyone could see. At least she had waited until the inhabitants of the abbey had returned indoors.

>

Feeling foolish, she raised her head. Tobias’s gaze was as watery as her own. He pressed his forehead to hers. “Thank God you’re here, safe and sound. Any longer and Leopold would have had a seizure. His temper has not improved with age.”

Rosemary grinned. “I noticed that.”

“I was almost sure you had.” He glanced toward the door. “It takes courage to cross the threshold.”

She gripped Tobias hand. “The boy.”

“You saw it faster than I did.” Tobias sighed. “Of Leopold’s making. There is no one left to have our revenge on. That moment passed with young Edwin’s first breath. Do you still enjoy sweet treats, Rosemary?”

“Of course.”

Tobias nodded and patted his stomach. “Then you’ll enjoy Romsey. Mercy has a sweet tooth. I always enjoy my visits.”

“You don’t live here?”

He chuckled. “No. I live at Harrowdale with Blythe. I’m not suited for society, but I visit often.”

Rosemary sighed. “I’m not suited for it either.”

“Then you’ll have to be like me and learn all over again.” He left her then, standing on the stairs alone with only the falling snow for company.

The same feeling of desolation she had striven to ignore for the past ten years came back in full force. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. She wanted what everyone else had.

The first step was the hardest. She reached the very threshold and paused as she looked inside. Constantine was waiting on the black-and-white tile, a smile tugging his lips. The cold opulence of Romsey faded in the face of his warmth. But to get to him required all her determination. She raised her hand to touch the wood frame. Not a dream. Not a nightmare.

Using the door as leverage, she pushed her way inside and walked to Constantine.

He cupped her face. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“You truly don’t know what you are talking about, do you?”

“Not a clue, but I’m sure you’ll educate me eventually.” He glanced up. “I’m on my way to see my daughters. Should they ask, will you be visiting with them today?”

“I am their governess.”

His lips pressed together as if she was testing his patience. His hand fell away from her skin. “If that is all you wish, then I will give you leave to spend as much time as you need with your family. They are in the library.”

She followed his progress up the staircase, half of her longing to follow. But she’d come back to put the past into its proper place. Rosemary peeked into the library and was instantly struck by the easy camaraderie of those gathered. Leopold and his bride were reading the newssheet together and talking over the events inside. Tobias had laid himself out on a long sofa, his bride cradling his head on her lap as she read a book. Even Oliver was there, scratching out words on a sheet of parchment. At his side was a boy Rosemary hadn’t met yet and Beth, gazing fondly at the pair.

All around her, everyone had a place. Everyone had their own concerns to occupy their time. None of them spared a glance in her direction. She backed away from the doorway.

If this was what she’d come home to, she need never have bothered. Didn’t they want to question her about her life? Didn’t they want to hear from her own lips the indignities she’d suffered?

Rosemary rocked on the balls of her feet, disturbed that there would be no inquisition. It was as if they didn’t want to speak of her past. As if they didn’t care. Did it not matter to them that she was not the woman she should have been? She turned away from the library and slowly made her way up the staircase. Was it really that easy to ignore what she’d done with her life before Constantine?

A maid gave her directions to the nursery but she would have found it anyway, given the ruckus ahead.

Maisy screamed and Rosemary hurried toward the sound.

“Now, Willow, don’t do that.”

Willow started to cry. “She pinched me.”