The gardens closest to the abbey were deserted at this time of day and he enjoyed the solitude of his walk through the neatly clipped lawn. But, once he was out of sight of the abbey, and in a wilder part of the estate, he changed direction and increased his pace. He was going to follow after Blythe and convince her to return to the abbey. He’d even get down on his knees to apologize all over again if it was required.
Nine
So much to do and so little time. Blythe whirled into her son’s bedchamber at Walden Hall and grabbed up everything that had been dear to him. Why couldn’t she be left in peace with her memories?
Her stepson, Aubrey, was coming to Walden Hall. His note appeared to have gone astray and said he would be here for the entire winter season. She was to prepare the house for his arrival and the arrival of a number of his friends. Unsavory friends more than likely.
Blythe cursed under her breath at the inconvenience. She could bear her stepson sleeping in her husband’s bed and not bat an eye. It was his right to do so, she knew. But she didn’t want his wild friends breaking the few things that Adam had loved most in his short life and carousing until all hours. There was always some to-do between them, fuelled by over imbibing, and the inevitable rumpus disturbed her.
She set her hands to the bedpost and held on. As stepmother, she’d not been warmly received from her husband’s first born son. Her husband’s efforts to extract a promise from Aubrey to care for her, on his death bed no less, had been grudgingly given. Aubrey, a handful of years younger than Blythe, had made it plain he resented the burden of supporting his father’s second wife.
Thank goodness her housekeeper, Mrs. Finch, had the wits to forward the delayed note to Romsey Abbey immediately. Blythe did not like surprise visitors.
She pulled the counterpane she’d stitched from the bed and folded it carefully.
Mrs. Finch took it from her. “I’ll take that for you, my lady. Just place everything you want packed away on the end of the bed and I’ll store them neatly. There’s still plenty of time.”
Blythe glanced about her with dismay. “I shouldn’t keep doing this, should I?”
“You may do this as many times as you wish, my lady. We all miss him and none of us want to see his things misused.” The housekeeper’s words reassured her that at least one person in the household understood her love for her son had never eased with his last breath.
Blythe nodded, grateful that her obsession did not concern her staff. She just couldn’t bear to pack everything away forever as if he’d never existed.
“If I may ask a question, my lady. The last time his lordship was here, he was peeking into the storerooms and attic. What should I do with young master Adam’s things this time?”
“There is always my bedchamber.” Blythe shook her head immediately as she remembered she would move to the rear of the house, to a lesser chamber—one above the kitchens to keep his guests noise from disturbing her rest at night.
The housekeeper set down her bundle. “There’s not going to be much room and anything you add to the chamber will surely be noticed.”
Blythe fretted. What other option was there? If she removed Adam’s possessions to Romsey, her sister would discover just how difficult her stepson was becoming. Mercy had troubles enough without alerting her to more.
There truly was too much to hide, but she especially wanted the rocking horse hidden. She moved to it and gave it a little push. Adam had loved rocking on the wooden beast, calling faster mama, faster, over his whoops of joy. Her eyes filled with tears and she brushed them aside. She couldn’t fall into a blue mood now. Time was of the essence.
She glanced out the window to judge the time of day. She still had hours till nightfall, but tomorrow Venables would be here and would undoubtedly make her life difficult.
Her gaze sharpened as she detected movement in the neat orchard beside the house. Tobias Randall pushed off from a tree and set his hands to his hips as he stared up at her.
At her side, the housekeeper gasped. “Goodness, who could that be?”
Blythe scowled. “That, unfortunately, is Mr. Tobias Randall, of Romsey Abbey. I’d better go see what he wants and send him on his way again.” What was he doing here now of all times? She didn’t have the time or the inclination to deal with him.
The housekeeper leaned closer to the glass pane. “That’s not a man most women would give their marching orders, too. I don’t blame you for lingering at Romsey Abbey these weeks now. If I were a few years younger I’d make a fool of myself over him, that’s for sure.”
Blythe glanced at the housekeeper. “Please don’t let him hear you say that. He’s conceited enough without receiving additional flattery.”
“I bet he is.” The housekeeper sighed. “I bet he’s broken more than a few hearts in his time.” The housekeeper lifted her hands to her hair and smoothed the loose grey wisps against her head.
Good grief, this was impossible. “I’ll return directly.” Blythe hurried down the stairs and stepped out through a side door closest to the orchard. Tobias was waiting, dressed exactly as she’d last seen him. Did he not possess a hat to cover his head or gloves for when he made calls?
“You left in a hurry,” he said without preamble.
“I have much to do here.”
His brows drew together. “About kissing you. You do know I didn’t mean any disrespect, don’t you? I just wanted to distract you from your location and calm your nerves. You didn’t need to leave. If anything, I should be the one to do that. I apologize if I have given offence with my actions.”
Blythe shook her head. “I haven’t given the matter another thought. As I said, I have much to do here and cannot spend the time conversing with you about an inconsequential matter.”
A loud crash rang out from the house and she winced.