Engaging the Enemy (17 page)

He stepped forward. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”

The little boy gaped up at him then clung to his mother’s skirts. Leopold cursed under his breath. He hadn’t meant to startle him into silence. He’d hoped to provide Mercy with a useful distraction. Perhaps he was out of practice with young children. It was probably for the best.

Mercy bent down to Edwin’s level. “Sweetheart, say hello to Mr. Randall. You remember him, don’t you?”

The little boy nodded, suddenly shy. Their eyes met. The boy looked just like his youngest brother when he was about to be scolded. Leopold smiled. “Shall we be on our way, Your Grace? It looks to be a fine day for your picnic.”

On hearing the word picnic, the little boy untangled himself from his mother and rushed out the open front door and down the steps, heading for the waiting carriage at a run.

“Edwin, stop,” Leopold ordered without thought.

The boy halted and spun about, shock clear on his face. Had no one ever raised their voice to him before? He hadn’t meant to frighten the child and he slowly approached Edwin. He bent down closer to the boy’s height as Mercy had done and placed his hand on his trembling arm. “You must wait for your mother, lad. A lady must always be escorted.”

Although the boy was very young, Leopold thought he understood because he did wait for his mother to join him before clambering into the open coach door. But what if he hadn’t stopped? Would Edwin have rushed straight under the horse’s hooves or fallen beneath the carriage wheels if the horses had been startled into movement?

He glanced up at the driver’s bench and met Allen’s raised brow. His cousin seemed bemused by the outing and Leopold’s place in the procession. With a swift glance at the rear of the conveyance, he spotted Allen’s two sons. It seemed the outing was to be a family affair. A pity Mercy didn’t realize.

Leopold was unused to caring about the health of the Duke of Romsey. Yet he cared greatly about this boy, this child that could be his, one who should not be a duke at all. He couldn’t bear the thought of him in peril of any kind. Heart pounding, he climbed into the carriage and sat beside the maid.

The carriage lurched forward and Edwin squealed with delight over the outing to come. As Mercy fussed with straightening the boy’s hair, Leopold tried to settle his anxiety. It was just a simple picnic outing. There was nothing strange about such an endeavor. There was no need to fret over the boy unnecessary as he was doing now.

When the carriage turned into a shaded lane a short distance from the abbey and stopped, Leopold exited and helped the maid and Mercy out. But when it was Edwin’s turn, the boy didn’t climb out. He launched himself into Leopold’s arms with a giggle. Shocked to be holding the child, Leopold put him down swiftly.

Mercy curled her arm around his and tugged him away. “I should have warned you. The grooms have made a game of getting him out of the carriage. Some days it takes three jumps before he’s satisfied. Allen will keep an eye on him until he tires of the sport.”

So she was acquainted with Allen, and trusted him with Edwin. Perhaps the news they were related wouldn’t come as too big a shock. He glanced back one last time as Jacob and David laughed with Edwin. They seemed happy in his company, and he with them.

Leopold scanned their surroundings and found the picnic spot set up under the shade of a large oak. Keeping one eye on the jumping boy and one on the uneven ground, Leopold escorted Mercy across the field to a low chair.

“I think that chair’s for you, actually,” she said, and then laughed as she settled to the picnic blanket in a puff of long skirts. She dug into the hamper. “If you wish to join Edwin in his games I am content enough here.”

Leopold dropped his correspondence onto the corner of the blanket and turned to watch the boy. Edwin had recruited all the servants into a game of tag, but the servants were letting him win by a wide margin and the laughter was enthusiastic. He was happy. “He has enough people dancing attendance on him for the moment. I’ll step in should the servants become fatigued.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he wondered what the hell he could do for the boy that a thousand servants couldn’t. Edwin didn’t need him. Leopold moved the chair out of the way then settled on the ground, discomforted by his realization. Where was his mind these days?

Mercy set a large jug before him on the blanket along with three glasses. “He will tire first, or become hungry and return here.” She sat back on her heels and sighed. “I love this spot.”

“The aspect is very pretty, Your Grace.”

When Mercy turned to face him and captured his gaze, he couldn’t look away. She licked her lips and the desire to lean across the cold fare to share a kiss gripped him. He wrenched his gaze from her and watched the boy’s antics instead.

Mercy shifted restlessly and then surprised him by moving to sit closer against his side. “Edwin loves it here, too.”

“I can see that.”

She sighed and leaned against his shoulder briefly. Leopold missed the contact as soon as she was gone. “It’s not fair to him, I think. Not having other children his age to play with. Allen’s boys do their best, but he needs other children about him that are closer in age. Jacob and David always do what he says. He’ll never learn good manners if he can boss everyone around and get away with it.”

No, he wouldn’t learn good manners that way at all. But, as a duke, such behavior would be considered normal. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about Lady Venables, if I may. She is a widow, yes and childless?”

Mercy resettled against him. “Yes. She had a boy once. But he passed away from a terrible illness, the same one that took her husband a few years ago. We both lost our husbands.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been a terrible time for both of you.” Leopold glanced at Mercy. “I noticed that Lady Venables has not come to call on you of late. Have you heard from her? Is she well?”

To his shock, Mercy set her head on his shoulder. “I haven’t heard a word.” She sighed. “I should have mentioned that we had a disagreement on her last visit. But I’m still somewhat in shock about it all and the things she said to me.”

“Oh.”

“It seems my sister has taken a dislike to your presence at Romsey. She feels you could be a threat to my son.”

Leopold took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not a threat to him. I would not hurt one hair on that boy’s head.” He climbed to his feet and began to pace. He did not want to come between the sisters. “I’ll leave at dawn tomorrow.”

“Oh, no, you won’t.” Mercy commanded. “Sit down before I injure my neck scowling up at you. I need family here with Edwin. Now, more than ever.”

Why now? Was it just because he’d returned?

Puzzled, Leopold sat and Mercy resumed her relaxed pose against his side. “The truth is I’ve let my sister’s grief go on for too long. She sees scandal in almost everything I do, and long before your arrival, I might add. I let her odd behavior pass because she’d lost her child and husband, but I will not stand for it any longer. She even accused me of other scandalous behavior. She went too far.”

Leopold glanced at Mercy’s sad face and realized there was more to the conversation than she’d let on. Although it wasn’t his place to question her, he wanted to know what troubled her so badly. Perhaps he could help smooth things over with Lady Venables and reassure her he had no designs on the title. He twitched his shoulder under her head. “What else did she say?”

When she closed her eyes, his heart skipped a beat. “The truth. She saw how badly I am enamored with you, and chided me for behaving with such carelessness.”

Mouth agape, stunned beyond words, Leopold struggled to decide how to respond. A certain way to smooth things over between them was for him to leave.

As he opened his mouth to offer to depart again, Mercy’s finger sealed his lips. “Don’t you dare mention leaving again. We still need to find where the duke sent Oliver, Rosemary, and Tobias yet.”

“You remembered their names.”

Mercy lifted her head from his shoulder. “Of course, I do. They should be with you, and here with us. They’re part of our family, too. I want to meet them.”

Just then, Edwin headed for their tree at a run. Mercy used his shoulder as support to climb to her feet then skimmed her fingertips across the back of his neck. Shivers danced down his spine from the brief contact, but then she moved away to scoop her son up in a possessive hug before leading him back to the picnic blanket to begin their feast.

As Leopold watched and then joined in the conversation about his favorite food, he realized that he was content for the first time in years. Despite the friction with Lady Venables, perhaps he could belong at Romsey one day.

“I have cousins,” Edwin piped up in a sudden change of conversation.

“That you do, my darling. And they are coming soon, I promise.” Mercy ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled. “Edwin has Willow, Maisie, and Poppy—his uncle, Lord Grayling’s children are coming to visit with us this winter. And he has another aunt, Lady Cameron, but Patience wasn’t so lucky in her marriage to have had children.”

Leopold sorted through the information. “You never mentioned spouses.”

Mercy’s hands fluttered. “For all our wealth and position in society we are a family of noble widows. Not one of us has retained their spouse or remarried.”

“Not even Lord Grayling? I would have thought he’d marry again for the title’s sake. He’ll want a son to inherit.”

Mercy’s face scrunched up, but she didn’t comment. She watched her son finish his beef pie and then waved him back to his games. When he was out of earshot, a rueful smile twisted her lips. “Constantine has no time for women, except those temporarily engaged to warm his bed. But I feel for those dear sweet little girls and try to persuade him to visit more often. Unfortunately, Constantine will not stay long, and he won’t consent to the girls residing here with us. I wish he would. Edwin loves them so.”

“Is his estate close?”

“Stanton Harold Hall, our family estate, is in Wiltshire. It’s a drear place and I cannot believe he wishes the girls to grow up there. He hated the place when we were young.”

Leopold smiled and drained his glass to hide his emotions. He had never belonged at Romsey before, but the sensation was slowly creeping up on him. “Opinions change as you age. How old are the girls?”

“Five, four, and two. So young to be motherless and raised by servants.”

“It is the custom.”

“Not in my family, it isn’t,” Mercy snapped. She took a deep breath and then patted his knee. “Forgive me. My brother’s attitude vexes me enormously. But he will be here soon and I will endeavor to extend his stay beyond the meager two weeks he’s agreed upon. I am hoping he will stay longer because you are here to provide much needed male company. My sister, Patience, will be with us as well but we ladies tend to babble too much for Constantine’s comfort. You’ll like Patience. She has a direct way about her.”

Leopold hooked his arms around his knee and stared off into the distance. Hearing Mercy speak of her family gave him pain. Not pain that she was troubled by the push and pull of family relationships. His pain was that he was not similarly affected. Would his siblings be as he remembered?

Tobias had been a trusting lad, and Rosemary a veritable termagant. He and Oliver had been the closest of friends, but they had fought from time to time over the littlest of things. Usually over Oliver’s obsession with ridiculous calculations. He’d give anything to hear them now, however.

Hoping to banish his anxiety, Leopold reached for his correspondence. The foreign world of gay parties and pompous announcements would calm him.

A tattered letter caught his eye, standing out for its inferior stationary and careless penmanship against the expensive correspondence. Leopold opened it and read.

My Dear Romsey,

You cannot imagine how I long for you. To hold you between my hands and feel your breath quiver as you look into my eyes. Not long now till we meet again. Wait for me.

Ever yours,

A lover’s note? Leopold quickly folded the paper and thrust it toward Mercy. “My apologies. I did not realize the nature of the missive.” As the paper slipped from his fingers, Leopold bounced to his feet and strode away.

How complete an idiot was he?

Mercy must have taken a string of lovers since her husband’s death. The thought curled around his insides until he thought he might strike out if anyone approached him. To protect the innocent, he kept well clear of Edwin and the servants. But they all stopped their games and followed him with their eyes as he moved away. The thought of Mercy welcoming other men to her bed clouded his vision in a red haze. He did not care where his steps took him. He forced himself to walk on, yet when Mercy hailed him, he stopped and let her catch up.

She rushed to his side, hands curling over his forearm and tugging insistently. “What am I to do?”

Leopold shook off her grip as the bitter stink of jealousy whipped him. “I imagine you’ll be welcoming the chap with open arms, Your Grace.”

Mercy hugged her chest. “Why in heavens name would I do that? I don’t know this madman.”

Leopold watched her closely. Her pale face and clutching fingers all spoke to him of great anxiety. Yet the wording of the letter hinted at great intimacy between her and the writer. He didn’t know whether to believe her. “Your beau seems anxious to return to you.”