“Then I want to go with him.”
Pain sliced through her. What she’d feared most had come to pass. George was far too fond of Oliver. His heart was going to be as broken as hers when Oliver left them behind. She bent down to her son’s level and met his gaze squarely. “As I told you before, that is not possible.”
He shook off her touch and lifted his chin defiantly. “It would be if you didn’t speak so meanly to him all the time.”
Beth’s brows rose. “I do no such thing.”
George scowled at her. “It wouldn’t hurt you to be nicer to Mr. Randall. I want to go with him and see the coliseum, to see the things he talks about in Italy and Turkey. You spoil everything. I didn’t want to believe him, but Uncle Henry was right. Women say one thing and mean another.” His words came out in a disgusted tone and he stomped away, headed for the house too.
Beth glanced swiftly at her brother-in-law to see if he had noticed the mode of George’s departure and saw a smile flit across his face. Was that his game? To turn her son against her by undermining their relationship? Rage filled her. She had gone without for many a night, stomach rumbling in hunger to ensure that her son’s belly was full so he wouldn’t cry himself to sleep. She’d buried a husband and two children, barely old enough to be out of her arms, and would not give up her son without a fight just because a man had waltzed in with money and power and thought he had the right to take what he wanted.
Beth remained at a distance from her brother-in-law and Leopold Randall until they eventually paused in their discussion, forcing her anger away and plotting her resistance. When he noticed her standing alone, at least Leopold appeared chagrined. “Forgive me, Beth. I thought my brothers were still with you. Henry, I don’t mind telling you that Beth will be sorely missed when she leaves us. The duchess was remarking just last night at dinner that Beth has become indispensable.”
Henry’s brow rose. “Well, we cannot have the duchess inconvenienced. Beth may remain. It makes no diff
erence to me. I’ll suggest George write to her every once in a while.”
Beth glared at her brother-in-law, the flippant comment adding to her outrage. How dare he? “George goes nowhere without me.”
The seriousness of her tone had little impact. Henry merely laughed and looked around. “Clearly not all the time. Where exactly is George now in that monstrosity, eh? The boy will do well enough without you, should you prefer to retain and cultivate your relationship with the duchess. I’ll look out for him now.”
She met Leopold’s gaze and swallowed. Had Henry been aiming for this all along? He would take George away and remake him into his own son without her interference. She couldn’t let that happen. She would not. “The duchess is too kind, but I will not be left behind to wonder if your estate is as grand as you claim.”
Henry’s jaw clenched at her accusation. She had no proof of his wealth or situation but his own few words. She was tired of giving him the benefit of the doubt. If he lied to them and they moved, they might never escape his control again.
He took a pace forward and Beth glanced down. His hand had curled into a fist at his side. She raised a brow and dared him to follow through with his desire to shut her up. He’d learn she wasn’t any man’s victim. Rose, of all people, had taught her how to fight back once and she still remembered enough now to feel confident.
“She will get over the loss of you if you promise to write as often as you can,” Leopold added quickly, stepping between them smoothly. He slapped his hand to Henry’s shoulder and turned him in the direction of the stables. “Excuse us, Beth.”
Beth took the opportunity to flee, walking away with her back straight as if the encounter had been commonplace. Once she reached the safety of her bedchamber, however, she closed and locked the door behind her and sank to the floor.
She did not want to go anywhere with Henry but she could not be left behind to wonder what kind of man her son would turn out to be. She covered her face and burst into tears. It was bad enough that she’d never see Oliver again, but she wouldn’t survive the loss of her son, too.
Fate couldn’t possibly be so cruel as to take the two greatest loves from her life at the same time.
Chapter Nineteen
OLIVER LET HIMSELF into his apartment and locked the door behind him so he might secure his peace. The day had not ended particularly well. The worst of it was that he only had himself to blame. He had not expected news of Elizabeth’s imminent departure to trouble him as much as it did. After all, he was leaving England before her and he’d had days to accept her path would greatly diverge from his.
The forced cheer he’d witnessed in the garden had been for her son’s sake and he’d wanted to tell her she was wrong about his dreams. The endless arguments with his brothers about his departure had stolen any chance for private speech with her after dinner. Her happiness was important to him. He would think of her often, as he had always done, when they parted company in a few days.
The door behind his back rattled with the force of a blow. “We’ve not finished this discussion, sir. Slinking away while my back was turned will not save you. Get your ass back out here and talk to us,” Leopold yelled.
Oliver moved away from the door and raked a hand through his hair as irritation seized him. His elder brother had taken the news of his imminent departure less than well. It was quite a shock to Oliver to be set upon by his own family. He hadn’t felt this anxious since his days at Skepington. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat at the memory of that evil place. Bargaining for the key to his chamber there had been an absolute necessity. He’d not enjoyed waking to find a fellow inmate leaning over his bed or rifling through his possessions.
He pulled the ribbon he always carried from his pocket and stroked the once-lustrous material. It had darkened since he’d first acquired it, but it still retained the same ability to soothe him. The door rattled one last time and then Leopold’s footsteps hurried away.
“Will he be back,” a small voice asked suddenly.
When Oliver looked about, he spotted George huddled by the fire. Puzzled by his presence at this time of night, Oliver moved toward him, tucking the ribbon back into its usual resting place. “It’s likely, unfortunately. He will be even more cross with me by then. You may want to take the opportunity to leave before he returns or else be faced with a terrible scene.”
Oliver was the only one with keys to this room. As soon as he’d decided to move in, he’d taken the housekeeper’s copy from Elizabeth when she hadn’t been looking in order to ensure his privacy. Leopold was about to discover that fact for himself and he hoped he wouldn’t rant at the new young housekeeper too ferociously.
“He’s mad at you for going away?” George asked, still curled up where Oliver had discovered him. The wistfulness in his voice caught him by surprise. Shouldn’t he be happier that he was bound for adventure too?
“My brother is bossy. A side effect of being the eldest.” Leopold was turning into a damned nuisance.
“I was the eldest once,” George said as he laid his head against his knee and stared into the dancing flames. “A long time ago I had a little brother and sister to take care of. Papa said I had to look out for them.”