Read Online Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls - Book 3) by Heather Boyd - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Heather Boyd
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for you.”
Beth glanced down at her hands and squeezed her fingers until her knuckles turned white. She willed them apart and strove to appear unaffected by the duchess’s words. There was much truth in the first part. She had never loved her husband enough. It was a constant pain in her heart that she’d cared for him but never fully loved him. She had tried with all her will but when he had died, a little part of her had been relieved because she wouldn’t have to pretend any longer.
But to hint that Oliver could be a man in love enough to be foolish showed how little the Duchess of Romsey understood him. Oliver Randall was oblivious to anything of an affectionate or even romantic nature. He didn’t require anything from anyone in order to be content.
“Have I made you uncomfortable?” The duchess’s soft question forced her out of her introspection.
Beth rubbed her brow. “No, of course not. But there is really nothing to say. I have no feelings, one way or the other, for him or anyone. If I may be candid, Your Grace, I would prefer it if you did not turn your matchmaking inclinations in my direction.”
The duchess scowled. “I was successful with my sister and Tobias. What makes you think I cannot do it again?”
Beth might be in danger of overstepping on her first day in her new position, but she had to stop the duchess from pursing this line of foolishness any further. “I respect Lady Venables more than words can say, but two more opposite creatures you could never hope to match again. The difference, and why your success was assured, is that both she and Tobias were willing to change to make each other happier.”
The duchess’s brow rose. “And you resist change. You do not believe in love?”
“Far from it, Your Grace.” Beth shook her head. “I have never backed away from a challenge presented by new circumstances. My life has been full and quite uncertain at times. A woman must learn and adapt if she is to survive and thrive again.”
The duchess wrung her hands. “Then you believe Oliver incapable of change, even for love?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed to continue speaking. “There is no room for love in his life. Once he decides on a path he will stick to it until the bitter end. I have no doubt of that. You are wasting your energy and will only be disappointed by him.”
Chapter Seven
THE PROFOUND SILENCE of the east wing of Romsey Abbey soothed Oliver in a way he couldn’t understand. This wasn’t his first visit to the derelict chambers and likely not the last. He left the door ajar and glanced around the bright rooms that had once been his paternal grandmother’s private apartment. He could easily imagine her outrage at their sorry state. The old woman had been meticulously neat.
He stepped farther into the room, brushed his fingers over a small gilt-edged tabletop, and then rubbed the dust from them. When he looked across the space, he noticed tracks crossing the dusty floor from the door to the center of the room. One man-sized. One smaller.
Beside him, George Turner crowded closer. “Are you sure this room is safe?”
“Of course.” To prove his point, he jumped up and down a few times. “Romsey may be dusty but she is quite sound. All she needs is attention.”
The boy shrugged. “I suppose.”
Curtains had rotted and fallen into suspicious heaps on the floor by the windows, giving the room breathtaking views as far as the eye could see. “Can you not see the potential of the room? The space, the light, the aspect.”
“All I see is work.” George shrugged. “The duchess and Mama were talking this morning. Many rooms have to be prepared for the wedding.”
Oliver frowned. “Not these ones.”
“Why not?” The boy picked up a cushion with two fingers and when he dropped it a cloud of dust erupted around him. He backed away, coughing. “It’s big enough for a whole family.”
George wandered off to
Beth glanced down at her hands and squeezed her fingers until her knuckles turned white. She willed them apart and strove to appear unaffected by the duchess’s words. There was much truth in the first part. She had never loved her husband enough. It was a constant pain in her heart that she’d cared for him but never fully loved him. She had tried with all her will but when he had died, a little part of her had been relieved because she wouldn’t have to pretend any longer.
But to hint that Oliver could be a man in love enough to be foolish showed how little the Duchess of Romsey understood him. Oliver Randall was oblivious to anything of an affectionate or even romantic nature. He didn’t require anything from anyone in order to be content.
“Have I made you uncomfortable?” The duchess’s soft question forced her out of her introspection.
Beth rubbed her brow. “No, of course not. But there is really nothing to say. I have no feelings, one way or the other, for him or anyone. If I may be candid, Your Grace, I would prefer it if you did not turn your matchmaking inclinations in my direction.”
The duchess scowled. “I was successful with my sister and Tobias. What makes you think I cannot do it again?”
Beth might be in danger of overstepping on her first day in her new position, but she had to stop the duchess from pursing this line of foolishness any further. “I respect Lady Venables more than words can say, but two more opposite creatures you could never hope to match again. The difference, and why your success was assured, is that both she and Tobias were willing to change to make each other happier.”
The duchess’s brow rose. “And you resist change. You do not believe in love?”
“Far from it, Your Grace.” Beth shook her head. “I have never backed away from a challenge presented by new circumstances. My life has been full and quite uncertain at times. A woman must learn and adapt if she is to survive and thrive again.”
The duchess wrung her hands. “Then you believe Oliver incapable of change, even for love?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed to continue speaking. “There is no room for love in his life. Once he decides on a path he will stick to it until the bitter end. I have no doubt of that. You are wasting your energy and will only be disappointed by him.”
Chapter Seven
THE PROFOUND SILENCE of the east wing of Romsey Abbey soothed Oliver in a way he couldn’t understand. This wasn’t his first visit to the derelict chambers and likely not the last. He left the door ajar and glanced around the bright rooms that had once been his paternal grandmother’s private apartment. He could easily imagine her outrage at their sorry state. The old woman had been meticulously neat.
He stepped farther into the room, brushed his fingers over a small gilt-edged tabletop, and then rubbed the dust from them. When he looked across the space, he noticed tracks crossing the dusty floor from the door to the center of the room. One man-sized. One smaller.
Beside him, George Turner crowded closer. “Are you sure this room is safe?”
“Of course.” To prove his point, he jumped up and down a few times. “Romsey may be dusty but she is quite sound. All she needs is attention.”
The boy shrugged. “I suppose.”
Curtains had rotted and fallen into suspicious heaps on the floor by the windows, giving the room breathtaking views as far as the eye could see. “Can you not see the potential of the room? The space, the light, the aspect.”
“All I see is work.” George shrugged. “The duchess and Mama were talking this morning. Many rooms have to be prepared for the wedding.”
Oliver frowned. “Not these ones.”
“Why not?” The boy picked up a cushion with two fingers and when he dropped it a cloud of dust erupted around him. He backed away, coughing. “It’s big enough for a whole family.”
George wandered off to
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