Damn it, Edwin. Why the hell did you die so young and leave me alone and unprotected? She dragged in a ragged breath as the door opened again, but it was only Wilcox. “Forgive me, but I happened upon the end of your conversation with Lord Shaw. I could have sworn I secured the main door after Mr. Randall arrived. Are you all right, Your Grace?”
Mercy found strength again in the concerned gaze of her servant. She’d been right to mistrust the earl before, it seemed. Her heart slowed from its frantic beating and she drew in a full breath. Lord Shaw had become increasingly vulgar when he found her unattended. If not for the difficulties between her and her sister, Mercy would have unburdened her fears on Blythe long ago and sought guidance on a better means of deterring him. Not that her sister would completely believe her innocent of offering any encouragement to Lord Shaw. She tended to think Mercy was too free with her affections, even harmless ones. “I’m unharmed.”
“But not quite ready to receive Mr. Randall yet, perhaps?”
“No. I’m all right. I just need a moment to find my balance again.”
Her butler smiled. “I’m sure he will be just the distraction you need. I’ll go fetch him. Slowly,” he added as an afterthought.
Once Wilcox departed, Mercy fidgeted with her attire, nervous to see Leopold Randall again. It amazed her that not once had she feared Leopold Randall even when so many people spoke badly of him. She thought of him as an old friend and ally already. A man she could trust.
Chapter Nine
Leopold tried his best to rein in his impatience as he waited for the duchess. Despite yesterday’s assertion that she would be ready to receive visitors from seven in the morning, he’d been cooling his heels in the drawing room for the past hour. Waiting had never been Leopold’s strong suit.
He stood again, paced to the window, peering at the ruin that was the abbey’s side garden. Again, the estate showed obvious signs of neglect. Given the rate of decay, the property would be costly to repair within the next five years.
Scowling at the thought of the problems and unnecessary expense young Edwin would face later in his life, he turned his back on it all. The troubles of the duchy were not his concern. His only responsibility was to find his siblings. And once they were together again he would settle somewhere near them and consider the future. To Leopold, that future had never seemed so far away.
The clatter of horse hooves turned him back to the window. A horseman entered his line of sight, ambling away from the abbey. Although the man’s back was to Leopold, the fine horse, and the way he sat in the saddle, hinted that the gentleman held considerable consequence in society. That he’d been born in the saddle as every lord was.
Unease stirred in Leopold’s belly. Although he was here too, the hour was really too early for proper social calls. Any man leaving the abbey at this hour would be assumed to be leaving after a long night. And that night might have been spent in the duchess’ bed. No wonder the gossips speculated about her love life. Leopold should leave. He should never have come back.
Wilcox entered the drawing room as he rushed toward the door. “The duchess will see you now, Mr. Randall. Please come this way.”
He groaned. Did he really want to see her after she’d entertained a man in her bed? Who the hell was he kidding? He was a fool. Of course he did. Leopold hurried after the retreating butler, eager to get today over with and be on his way.
Wilcox stopped and turned around to face Leopold. “I fear I should warn you that the duchess is out of sorts this morning. She’s had an unexpected early visitor and is, even now, greatly distressed by the conversation. It is my hope that she will be settled again soon.” The butler looked about to say more, but suddenly closed his mouth.
Since servants rarely involved themselves so closely in their masters’ lives, Leopold was surprised by Wilcox’s candor. However, the intelligence that Her Grace’s visitor was unexpected loosened the tension gripping him. “Of course, Wilcox, I shall attempt to distract her from her troubles.”
Wilcox grinned. “You do that very well indeed, sir.”
To his surprise, Leopold was shown to the ducal study—the beating heart of any estate. The duchess waited on the far side of the room. But between them lay a disaster of mammoth proportions. Papers littered every surface; piles had built up beneath chairs and toppled over. It appeared disorder stretched even to the interior of the abbey. Where the hell was the steward in all this? If he’d worked for Leopold, he have rung a peal over his head and dismissed him.
“Good morning, Your Grace.” Leopold bowed respectfully, determined to remember his place this time. What happened here was none of his business, except to find what he searched for. He had to remember that when dealing with the duchess.
No more touching, no more kissing.
No more thinking about satisfying physical needs.
“Mr. Randall, so good of you to call on us again.” The duchess didn’t offer a smile, and her clipped words made Leopold distinctly uneasy. Had she changed her mind about helping him?
Since the duchess remained on her feet, Leopold had no choice but to do the same. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, wondering what to say next.
The duchess cleared her throat a few times before she spoke again. “It has occurred to me that we might be able to help each other, Mr. Randall.”
Her words stirred uneasily between them, and Leopold wondered what mess he’d unwittingly stepped into. “How so, Your Grace?”
The duchess rubbed her fingers across her brow. “As you might have noticed, I am woefully unsuited to managing the estate alone. At one time, I had assistance. My husband’s steward stayed a few months beyond his death, but I’ve had no luck finding a suitable replacement. Imagine my surprise when I stepped into this mess ten months ago. My brother, Lord Grayling, my son’s guardian, will not stir himself from his own estate to guide me. However, it occurred to me that you seem to grasp the essentials of managing this estate far better than myself, even after being away so long.”
Leopold stared. “Are you suggesting I enter into your service?” The request filled him with fury. Leopold set his hands to his hips and glared.
The duchess rubbed her brow again. “No. No. Of course I could not have you enter into my service. But I do need help.” Her arm waved over the paper strewn desk. “I do not know where to start, or who to hire to fill the position. I’m making a mess of everything.”
Her obvious distress cooled Leopold’s anger quicker than a dunking in a cold stream. He took a step forward.
She covered her face with both hands and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. He didn’t understand what had brought on such a strong reaction to her difficulties, but he couldn’t help but be concerned. Yesterday she had seemed content. What had happened overnight while he’d been away? Although he’d promised moments ago not to touch her again, he crossed the room and set his hand to her shoulder. The du