Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls - Book 3) (29 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

A WOMAN IS only as foolish as the love that leads her astray. Beth sat up in Oliver’s bed as sunlight streamed through the curtains, warning her that she’d slept well beyond her usual rising hour. What had she been thinking last night when, sleepless, she’d wandered the halls of the abbey and, instead of returning to her own room, had fallen into Oliver’s just so she could breathe his scent?

She dived out of the bed, straightened it quickly so no one could tell it had been slept in, and hurried to put on her robe. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be caught parading around the halls in her nightgown.

With one last look at Oliver’s abandoned possessions, she crept as quietly as she could along the halls until she reached her own room. Once there, she let out a relieved breath and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. There was so much to do and decide. She had to be ready and prepared to face Henry and tell him they would not be traveling with him to America. She had to consider exactly what she would do with her life now that they would stay. Beth didn’t want to be a burden on the Randalls. She would earn her way somehow.

She eased the door open and peered at the dimly lighted bed. The sheets were already turned back, signifying that her son was up. She moved to the window and flung the curtains wide. The morning was distinctly pretty, gardens waiting for the warmth of the day to bring out their best.

When she turned around, she gasped at the sight confronting her. Her son’s room had been ransacked; his luggage was gone.

Beth checked everywhere and then checked her own room. Her bed was turned back, exactly as she’d left it last night, and nothing else had been disturbed that she could see. Yet when she took two steps forward, she discovered a grubby scrap of paper lying upon her sheets. Trembling, snatched it up and read.

I’ve no use for a slut who dishonors her family by spreading her legs for Oliver Randall. You’ll never see the boy again.

Beth stared at the paper as her hand began to shake, blurring the words completely. Her breath came in short, painful gasps and she clutched the bedpost to support herself. How could Henry have come and taken her son without her permission? How dare he?

Sure that she had only just missed him, Beth strode across the room and wrenched her door open to begin a search, starting with the nearest chambers. At one room she encountered Leopold Randall, half-dressed for the day, the young duke playing at his feet. His eyes widened at her abrupt appearance. “Good God, woman. What the devil are you doing?”

Beth’s tongue thickened. She couldn’t speak the words out loud. She slammed the door shut on Leopold and the child and continued her search alone.

In an unoccupied chamber she saw signs that someone had used the bed, disturbing the coverlet and smearing mud upon the once pristine coverlet. She studied the marks. Whoever it had been had made quite a mess. They must have waited here for night to fall and the abbey to grow quiet before taking George. Had no one heard?

A sob tore from her throat as she retraced her steps, following the path of mud back to George’s room. More mud was scattered on the floor rug beside the bed. From George’s room she followed the small crumbs of dirt as far as she could. At the top of the staircase, the marks grew less apparent, as if they had only passed this way once.

Beth flew down the abbey staircase, checking the floor for signs as she went. At the long gallery there were more marks and a chill cut through her nightgown. She glanced down the deserted hallway and saw that a window had been left open. She couldn’t believe such a mistake was possible after everything that had happened here these past months.

She reached for the window and lowered it, making sure to secure the latch properly. George couldn’t be going to America without her. He was just hiding in the abbey. It was a terrible, cruel dream she would wake from soon. He was safely tucked up in bed with a book hidden beneath his pillow.

“Beth?”

Leopold Randall’s voice cut through her dream like a hot knife through butter. She turned slowly, staring at him as panic rose. George could not be gone. He had to be here somewhere.

Leopold came closer. “What are you doing at the window?”

“George is gone.”

He rushed to her side. “What do you mean George is gone?”

She gestured to the window behind her, noticing that she still held the proof of his abduction in her hand. “He’s not here anymore. Henry’s taken George away from me. I’ll never see him again.”

She stared at the note as her hand trembled. She’d brought this down on her own head by loving Oliver. She moaned as the room began to spin about her.

Leopold drew closer, but he too swam before her eyes. “Why the devil would he do that?”

Beth squeezed her eyes shut. Henry had warned her he’d be watching. He’d learned about Oliver somehow and was punishing her for her faithlessness to his family. That explained his anger last night. She crumpled into a heap on the hard floor and covered her face. She only had herself to blame.

The note disappeared from her lax fingers before she could prevent it as footsteps pounded toward her. Beth looked up helplessly as Leopold read Henry’s words and learned her real character. He seemed to sway and then he looked down at her, pity in his eyes. “Is there any truth in this?”

Tobias moved into her line of sight. Shame filled her that the good people around her would find out this way, but she nodded. She wouldn’t lie and pretend to be virtuous when she was anything but.

“Damn him,” Leopold cursed. “You should have left him to burn, Tobias. That bloody bastard knew he was leaving and seduced Beth anyway.”

Tobias rushed to her side and lifted her from the floor. “Here, lean on me while Leopold gets over the shock. I’m sure you need more comfort than this. He could be at it for a while.”

Beth held tight to Tobias, her legs lacking the strength to stand unaided. “I deserve it and worse.”

Tobias led her to the drawing room and eased her into a chair before the fire. He rubbed her hands briskly. “Shh, don’t talk such nonsense. You’re so cold, luv.”

Without waiting for a reply, Tobias threw his coat about her shoulders and rubbed her arms. “Just blot out what my brother says for the moment and catch your breath.”

Beth wrung her hands, trying to instill warmth into her fingers. She’d never felt this cold or empty before. She’d never
not
known where her son was. He should be in his bed, not on his way to America with her duplicitous brother-in-law.

Lighter footsteps drew to a halt some feet away. “Well, I’m not surprised entirely, so do shut up, Leopold,” Blythe exclaimed with considerable heat. “Can’t you see your timing is terrible? Forget about Oliver for the moment and think about Beth. She’s in shock. Make yourself useful and pour a whiskey while we consider how to get George back.”

Leopold stopped ranting long enough to complete the task and in the sudden silence, Beth sobbed. She’d lost everything she loved. Oliver was gone, George was gone, and there was nothing she could do about the loss of either of them.

A soft arm curled about her and a glass appeared before her eyes. “Sip this, slowly. mind,” Blythe advised, rubbing her arms the way Tobias had done but more gently. Beth sipped the liquid. Her throat burned but the sensation was preferable to the cold that was consuming her. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to exist. She handed back the empty glass and requested another to blot out the pain. “He has a right to be angry. I’ve done a terrible thing.”

“No more whiskey for you if that’s what you’re thinking,” Blythe chided as she set the glass down. “You’ve done nothing but follow your heart. I think we can all agree that love makes us risk much when the reward can be so great.”

Beth met her gaze. “I’m being punished for that very thing, my lady. For my foolishness and stupidity. Henry will never allow me to see George again. He’s taken him away and I’ll never find him now.” She sobbed on the last and curled over as she cried.

Leopold took Blythe’s place and eased her into a sitting position again. “Did you hear nothing during the night?”

“No,” Beth gulped at the pain that engulfed her. “I wasn’t in my room last night.”

Leopold’s gaze fell to the note in his hand, his frown growing.

Beth pressed her fingers to her temples at how stupid she had been. She’d known her brother-in-law was a harder man than most, but that he might abduct George to get his way had never occurred to her. She would never have let George out of her sight for even a minute if she had suspected. “I couldn’t sleep for missing Oliver and I spent the night in his bed.”

Leopold sat back, wiping his hand across his face. “How long have you been involved with my brother?”

Blythe shushed him. “That is no one’s business but Beth’s. Now, we need to get young George back where he belongs. He must be terrified to be stolen away in the dead of night.”

Beth moaned at that image and Blythe tugged her to her feet. “Faith, now. We’ll get him back. Why don’t you come with me and get dressed? By the time we come down again, Leopold will have a plan prepared for pursuit.”

Although she didn’t want to move, she allowed herself to be led away. She put one foot before the other as she climbed the stairs with Blythe’s aid, barely noticing that Mercy had joined them, and passed into her bedchamber. The emptiness of the next room brought more tears and Mercy quickly closed the door when she continued to stare into the wreckage that was once her son’s neat room.

Numbness crept into her limbs as Blythe and Mercy undressed her from her night attire and redressed her in a warm day gown. She should have been appalled at such important women fussing over her, but she hadn’t the will to protest. The two women dressed her hair, slid stockings up her legs and tied garters around her calves, slipped her feet into sturdy shoes suitable for travel, and a hundred other small kindnesses that barely penetrated her misery.

A few minutes later, or so it seemed to Beth, she jerked upright as the carriage wheel landed in a hole. Across from her, Tobias and Blythe were talking quietly, hands firmly holding each other’s. Blythe leaned forward, peering into her eyes intently. “There you are. I was beginning to worry.”

Beth scrambled to sit straighter, looking about her in alarm. “Where are we?”

“Some miles from Romsey by now,” Tobias murmured.

Beth blinked and tried to adjust to the passage of time. How could she be here and not have noticed the change? She shook her head as her heartbeat quickened. George was gone. She longed for him and Oliver, too. She wanted them back in her arms where they belonged. “Where are we going?”

“Allen and his sons are leading the way on horseback. We’re headed south, following the trail, or at least we hope we are.”

Beside her, Leopold held out his hand. “I must apologize. It seems I’m the last to know everything about my brothers. I had no idea about Oliver. I was rude and I’m told rather hurtful in my speech to you. Forgive me.”

Beth reluctantly set her hand in his and he squeezed her fingers tightly. “There is nothing to forgive,” she whispered.

He smiled, a rueful expression that touched his eyes. “I’ve never understood my brother. I still cannot believe he abandoned you.”

She lifted her chin, determined that there should be no misunderstandings about what had happened. “He never abandoned me. I knew he would leave.” She’d gone into the affair with her eyes wide open and had only herself to blame for the loss of her reputation and her son. She’d caused Henry to take George away to protect him from her sins. “How am I to get George back even if we find where Henry has taken him?”

Tobias leaned forward and lifted a small chest from the floor. He shook it. “Money should work nicely. Turner made it very plain last night that he’s a greedy sort.”

Leopold sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I thought I knew him. Seems he’s much changed since we were young. I’m sorry, Beth. I invited him to call as often as he liked in order for you to become better acquainted. The servants report that windows have been found unlatched all over the abbey for days, like the one in the long gallery, but nothing has been stolen. Likely Turner’s associate entered the abbey during dinner and waited for everyone to fall asleep before creeping into George’s room.”

Beth closed her eyes. “Henry has been very taken with the view from the long-gallery windows and others inside the abbey. He must have unlatched them when I wasn’t looking.”

Dread filled her. Had Henry been planning to leave her behind from the beginning? As the carriage rolled along, Beth tried to control her panic but she was sure her brother-in-law was already out of her reach. He might not even be heading in this direction. She stared out the window, trying to form a convincing argument to explain herself and get her son back. If Oliver was here, she could beg him to write one out for her to practice. He could be very convincing when he set his mind to it. Beth’s arms ached as she wished for Oliver’s calming presence to proclaim the odds of succeeding.

“Riders and a carriage approaching fast, Mr. Randall,” the coachman called down. “Bloody hell, it’s the other Romsey coach. Hold tight.”

Beth braced herself and the coach rocked violently as they slowed and swerved to avoid the fast-approaching carriage. When they were almost at a complete stop, Leopold vaulted out the door to hurled abuse at the coachman. “Damnation. Are you trying to get us all killed?”