“I was hoping you could tell me.” Emma squeezed her hands tightly. “You have been staying here for weeks. That is not like you.”
Blythe untangled their fingers. “I am helping Mercy solve a puzzle and it is easier if I remain here than travel back and forth every day.”
“What kind of puzzle?”
A matter that was of great importance, but possibly scandalous. She had to tread carefully. “Oh, Emma. I wish I could speak freely on the subject, but I cannot.”
A bright blush stole over Emma’s neck. “Is it about him?”
Blythe frowned. “Which him?”
“Mr. Tobias Randall silly. He’s watching you.”
Blythe glanced across the room. Emma was correct, but at this distance she couldn’t determine exactly which one of them he had his eye on. Annoying man. He had better keep a distance from her friend. She pasted an unconcerned expression on her face. “Mr. Randall is not an issue. He is the duke’s cousin and has returned to visit with him and the duchess.”
Emma’s gaze lingered on the pirate. “For how long?”
Now there was the question of the month. Just how long would Tobias Randall stay at Romsey? How long would she have to suffer his blunt invitations to share his bed? At least until the wedding and for some time beyond, perhaps, unless he found something else to do with his time. Sadly, even a distraction couldn’t be counted on. He was frequently underfoot. “For as long as he wants, I imagine. His brother proposed to Mercy you know.”
“Yes, I heard. Are you happy about it?”
“Of course I am. Despite the swiftness of the proposal, he has fallen completely in love with her. They are smitten.”
Emma giggled. “I never expected her to marry again. I thought she would remain a widow as you will.”
Blythe pressed her lips together to cover her surprise. Did people think she would remain an eternal widow? Blythe hadn’t given the matter much thought before. She was still heartbroken over the loss of Raphael and Adam. Losing your whole family was not an easy thing to recover from, but she’d never actually decided to live alone forever. She took a deep breath, pushing the matter from her mind, and offered Emma a wry smile. “I didn’t expect Mercy to remarry either. But they make each other happy and that’s all there is to it.”
Emma sighed. “I suppose that I will just have to be blunt and come right out and ask you my question. They’re saying that you remain close to the young duke because you fear Mr. Randall’s influence and that you’re attempting to keep him at a distance. Why would people say such a thing if you like him?”
“Because society at large has the intelligence of a flea,” Tobias grumbled as he joined them. “Lady Venables stays because she is fond of her family. Whoever is spreading such preposterous rumors?”
Emma’s face changed to a bright shade of pink. “I. Ah,” she stammered.
“Mr. Randall, there is no need for such impertinent questions,” Blythe said quickly. “Rumors cannot hurt one when there is no hint of truth behind them.”
And really, any rumors involving herself were none of his business, but sh
e was thankful this particular rumor did not bring her sanity into question.
“Rumors have to start somewhere, my lady. I should like to know where this one in particular began.” His brow rose until he appeared as haughty as anyone she’d ever come across in society.
But Blythe was curious about the rumor, too. “It is a good question though, Emma. Do you have any idea how it might have started?”
Emma fidgeted. “My maid mentioned something yesterday morning. I called at Walden Hall afterward and again today to ask you about it. When you were not at home, I had no choice but to come see you. It is a terrible thing they are suggesting. Surely Her Grace can be relied upon to determine the true character of the man she is going to marry.”
“Of course she is. The duchess has no time for imbeciles,” Tobias Randall added in a tone that brooked no argument. Blythe found his support for Mercy the nicest thing he’d ever done or said.
Wilcox arrived just then with the tea tray and Emma quickly returned to a chair close to Mercy when she was summoned.
Tobias caught Blythe’s sleeve to delay her from joining the others. “The servants are always the first to speculate,” he whispered. “Which means Her Grace’s staff are responsible for the talk about you.”
She sighed as she pulled her sleeve from his grip. “At least they are not saying I’m mad.”
“You might be relieved, but I don’t like talk that sets you at odds with our family.”
Blythe peered up at the pirate and scowled. “What would such talk matter to you?”
A look of chagrin crossed his features. “I frightened you, B. You might not expect it, or believe me, but that weighs quite heavily on my conscience. I would prefer to be on good terms with my brother’s future family.”