Hunting the Hero (31 page)

Leopold caught his sister’s face and turned her toward him. “If you are finished beating your brothers up, perhaps we could go back to the inn where it’s warm. I’m anticipating Tobias will complain that he’s hungry any minute.”

A hesitant smile crossed her face and she looked away.
 

 
“Tobias was always hungry. Some things never change, I see. I’m sure Mrs. Lamb can find enough to fill him and the rest of you before you go.”
 

Rosemary caught up her skirts and headed for the lych-gate. Before she’d gone too many steps, she had a brother on each side, the younger trailing behind. No doubt making sure every avenue of escape was denied her. Constantine stared after them. Anxiety filled him. She wasn’t coming back with them. No matter what her brothers hoped, Rosemary intended to remain apart from the Randalls.
 

But where did that leave him and his daughters, and the child she was expecting?
 

~ * ~

Rosemary struggled against the vise-like grip Leopold had on one arm, determined to break free and stand on her own two feet. The stern face at her side made her heart ache so badly that she blinked back tears. Leopold looked so much like their father that she expected to hear his voice telling her to behave as a proper lady would. But the days when such a feat might be possible were far behind and could never be recaptured. She was what she was. Her brother didn’t need to know just how far she’d fallen. “I see you haven’t outgrown your bossy tendencies.”

“I see you haven’t been tamed.”

“Hardly.” Rosemary looked ahead toward the inn. She forced a sunny smile to her face. “Where would be the fun in behaving against my nature?”

His grip tightened. “None of us have enjoyed the past years. In fact, some of us were lucky to survive the duke’s abduction to return.”

Rosemary’s pulse raced as Oliver moved closer. The sensation of being hemmed in was making her rather nervous of her brothers. One on one she could undoubtedly hold her own. But they’d grown to be rather tall and formidable opponents. She wouldn’t be able to escape all three if they worked together against her. “Unless you are prepared to fight me again, I suggest you stop crowding me. I don’t much care for the sensation. Or are you planning on abducting me, too?”

Leopold released her immediately. Oliver slipped his arm through hers. “Come now, Terror. You cannot fault us for giving you the greeting, the fight, you intended to have. I see you have improved your technique.”

Rosemary tilted her chin to look up at Oliver. He’d grown so old. What had happened to him? He was pale and thin, his brown hair now as gray as Papa’s had been before his death. At first, she’d feared fighting him. But after he deflected her first strike, she’d discovered her brother was deceptively strong. She looked ahead to the inn. “I had considerable incentive to remember your lessons. I won’t run.”

He laughed. “Elizabeth has suggested I should interact with people more often. See how well I’m doing, escorting my sister about on my arm? I am glad we cut our journey short or else I might have missed you. We eloped, you know. Is that not romantic?”
 

“I saw the notice in the paper.”

“My wife’s idea to bring you home.”

“It didn’t work.”

“I could not help but notice that. She will be crushed.”

Oliver was different. Admittedly, ten years had passed since she’d seen him, but he was decidedly more emotional than she remembered. She hoped it was Beth’s influence. She’d always wanted her for a sister. “Where are you living?”

“Romsey Abbey. I’ve taken over our grandmother’s wing and have been prying into every nook and cranny I can find. By the time I’m done, there will be no secrets left uncovered.”

“His Grace should not care for that.”

Oliver grinned impishly. “The boy is four. It is beyond his understanding at present.”

“If he lives to reach his majority.”

Oliver stopped dead in the middle of the street. “Did Leopold not tell you? The boy thrives. There is no chance of peril, save for his own stupidity. I trust Leopold and the family at large can instill some sense into the boy as he ages.”

“If the duchess allows it.”

“My wife will not only allow it but encourage it.” Leopold squeezed her shoulders. “When you meet her you will see the truth and cease your mistrust.”

“You married the Duchess of Romsey? I’ll leave you to suffer the intrigues alone.” She scowled at him. “How could you stoop so low? Surely there’s someone nicer that caught your eye.”

“Mercy was not cast from the same mold as previous duchesses. She is very different.”

Rosemary folded her arms across her chest. She didn’t believe that for a second. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

Leopold raised a finger. “We will all be very happy together.”

Rosemary immediately understood his meaning and shook her head to end the discussion. “I will never go back.”

“Yes, you will. I am the head of the family and until you marry your place is with us.”

Rosemary pushed past him and started toward the inn. “My place is anywhere I choose. I’m of age and relish my independence.”

She smiled at Mrs. Lamb as she stepped through the inn’s front door. “Would you be willing to feed these gentlemen? They’ve traveled some distance and have a long journey ahead.”

Mrs. Lamb glanced past her and then nodded. When Rosemary turned, Grayling was poised at the door, an odd expression on his face. Tobias loitered in his shadow. She shook off the nagging sensation her brother wanted a private word and made sure her elder brothers were made comfortable.

She took a place at the head of the table. Grayling sat at the far end. Tobias did not join them at all. She looked for him, but her younger brother was nowhere to be found.

As soon as Mrs. Lamb departed, Leopold resumed the discussion. “I left our wives behind with assurances you would come home with us. Will you make me a liar?”

“Hardly my doing when I wasn’t consulted. I’ve no intention of setting one foot upon the estate.” She spread her hands wide. “I do wish everyone the best.”

“Rosemary,” Leopold groaned. “I’ve no wish to fight with you. Not today. Not when we’ve finally discovered you and where our parents rest. Tobias, especially, will want assurances. His memory of the abduction still haunts him, I think. Are you not the least curious about what happened to us all?”

“No.”

They couldn’t have had a harder life than she’d lived. They hadn’t had to sell their body to ease the ache of their empty belly. They couldn’t have wondered whether they would survive the night as she had more times than she could count. “I’m sure you’re all safe and well at Romsey.”

“They chained him,” Leopold growled in a low voice. “Beat his flesh until he was scarred. It’s a miracle he survived to come home to us.”

Rosemary stared at her brothers. “Surely you jest?”

“Take the trouble to ask him for proof yourself rather than turn tail and run. It is Tobias’s story to tell, not mine. I’ve seen the damage done with my own eyes. He can barely tolerate to sit inside a carriage, but as soon as he heard of your location, he forced himself to come and see for himself if you were the woman Grayling had employed.” Leopold’s mouth pursed in disapproval. “We’ve all suffered punishment of some sort at the duke’s command. You’ve become a hard, unfeeling woman, Rosemary Randall, if you think you’re the only one who’s suffered. Mama, God rest her soul, would be ashamed of you for not caring.”
 

“I’m sure she already is.” It was better that they couldn’t see what she’d become. Her parents had been keen to see her marry well. To be a lady at all times. Rosemary was not that. It pained her that her little brother had been injured. She glanced at Oliver discreetly. He seemed no different than before, but she had to wonder what punishment had been meted out to him and Leopold. Were they like her, scarred deeply beneath the surface and afraid to show how much?

Constantine stood. “Excuse me a moment.”

Rosemary watched him go with a heavy heart. He didn’t appear to be taking the news of her true identity very well.
 

When he was gone from sight, Leopold was quick to question her. “When did you meet him?”

If she told him the truth, would he leave her in peace and forget this nonsense about returning to Romsey? “He wasn’t the first.”

Her brother glanced down at the table. When his gaze lifted, his expression was bleak. “We’ll remain until you change your mind.”

Leopold stood and leaned over her. When he pressed a fierce kiss to her brow and strode from the dining room with long, determined strides, she hoped she would never see him again. It was best he knew as much of the truth as she could bear to share. She could never be considered clean again. Not wholesome. Not good. She had too much dirty laundry weighing her down to ever be what they wanted or expected of her.

Mrs. Lamb bustled over with two overflowing plates and set them down on the table. When she returned, she placed one before Rosemary. The panic she’d felt on seeing the Romsey carriage had subsided enough for her stomach to remember she was ill. The scent wafted to fill her nose and her nausea returned. She breathed through her mouth. Unfortunately, that didn’t help enough. With a strangled cry, she bolted from the table and rushed upstairs to the rented room. She flung herself toward the chamber pot in the nick of time. The tea and scrap of bread she’d consumed earlier reappeared.
 

She closed her eyes as the spasms passed, willing yet another terrible day to end.

CHAPTER 27

WHEN CONSTANTINE REENTERED the inn after a short walk to clear his head, he discovered he was not the only worried man to grace the dining room. Two of the brothers were in deep conversation on the far side of the room. Several times the elder started for the stairs, but Oliver was quick to call him back.
 

Mrs. Lamb bustled over with a mug of ale and a plate of food and set them out on the table. “Something to whet your appetite, my lord?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lamb. You’re very good to me.”

The look she gave him was tinged with distrust. “You returned. If you let her get away, I might not be so kind the next time you stay.”

“Then I shall never let her go, just to keep your good opinion.” Constantine didn’t say it lightly. He’d had enough time to consider that her connections had no bearing whatsoever on his decision to marry Rosemary. The acquiring of her name was not the least bit important in the scheme of things. The woman was. He loved her, no matter what she called herself.

He sat beside Oliver Randall and took a long swallow of ale. The solitude of a short walk had also stirred his compassion. The situation was difficult for all of them. “Where is Rosemary now?”

Oliver pointed toward the staircase. “Upstairs. Tobias followed her to be sure she didn’t run off again while we were eating, but I suppose her condition may hamper any plans for immediate flight. She couldn’t stand the scents wafting up from the plate set before her, so the innkeeper’s wife may be correct. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” In the sudden rush of discovery, Constantine had managed to push the notion of being a father again to the back of his mind. To his surprise, he was not unduly worried about the birth. He was more worried Rosemary would take care of the matter without telling him and ensure she would never be in any danger.

Constantine picked at the food on his plate. He was almost certain he could convince Rosemary not to run away and to return to Stanton Harold Hall. But avoiding Romsey Abbey and her family was definitely part of her plan. He was torn in two. He had to prevent becoming separated from her again.
 

He cast a quick glance at Leopold and decided the man needed time to regain his temper before he discussed marrying his sister. Oliver was another matter. He didn’t seem the least perturbed by his sister’s recovery or her expectant condition. Constantine caught Oliver’s gaze. It was almost as if sentimentality had no place in his life. Rosemary was like that at times. “Are you injured?”

A rueful smile flittered over Oliver’s face as he tested his ribs. “Ribs ache, but no lasting damage.”

What a strange response. Constantine set down his fork. “When Mercy and Blythe were young, the most I ever did to them was pull their braids. Did you make a habit of fighting with Rosemary? Is that why she distrusts you all?”

“You have to understand that Rosemary is different than most females. She always wanted to do what her brothers did and if we would not oblige, she found a way to do it anyway.”

Constantine raised a brow. “Boxing?”

“Rosemary doesn’t box. But she was popular with the local lads when she was young, and after one such fellow proved a bit too forward she wanted to know how to protect herself. I taught her without letting anyone know and she excelled at the vigorous activity. Her current fighting style has evolved in a way I never expected. She’s limited, you see. Her shorter stature and the gowns society expects her to wear hamper her movements, so she’s had to adapt.”