Free Guarding the Spoils (The Wild Randalls - Book 3) by Heather Boyd Page B

scowled. “I distinctly recall mentioning that you should not be housekeeper of Romsey. I do not meddle with your possessions and do not wish you to meddle with mine.”
    Elizabeth rubbed her arms, a sure sign he’d made her nervous. Good. She deserved it after this act of treachery. “On the contrary, you’ve done specifically what I asked you not to do.”
    He knew what she meant, but teaching the boy the history contained in the house and improving his grasp of Latin could hardly be termed meddling. The boy was gaining something of value, after all. “George?”
    Her smile grew brittle. “Enjoy your new accommodations. Her Grace has granted you this room to use as your own. You will only be disturbed here for the fire and on Friday mornings when a servant will come in to clean.”
    When she made to move past him, he caught her arm and held her steady. “We are not finished. What have you done?”
    “Nothing. Everything is how you left it below, only crowded a little closer together on account of the smaller table.”
    Oliver dragged her, surprisingly pliant, toward the table and surveyed her handiwork. Everything was indeed the same, but knowing his papers had been rifled through set his teeth on edge. He made a conscious effort to ease his grip so as not to damage her, but he couldn’t let go of the soft flesh in his hand.
    She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Where is my son now?”
    Oliver studied her face. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to unravel the reason why she fascinated him so. Perhaps because he saw she had two sides. The happy one she shared with others, and the one he saw most often. “He’s playing in a deserted room in the east wing. We stumbled on a replica model of the abbey. The boy finds it fascinating and wished to remain to study it.”
    A frown creased her brow. “He has other chores to do today.”
    “Yes, he did mention them but I wondered if you might spare him for work in the east wing. My grandmother’s apartment is large but uninhabitable as yet. I thought we might work together to clean it up.”
    “You’re proposing to spend even more time with my son?”
    Oliver snorted. “Outside of the servants, quite possibly it will be my paltry efforts that set the rooms to order rather than his. I imagine the model will claim his attention for a good long while yet.”
    A frown line appeared between her dark brows. “Why would you do this?”
    “I like the room.”
    Elizabeth shook her head suddenly. “No. Return him to me. You can play at being interested in the abbey with someone else. I knew this was a mistake.”
    The anguish in her tone made his pulse increase. Oliver tightened his grip. “The boy says you cry at night. Why?”
    She struggled to get away from him and he let her go reluctantly. She backed toward the door as if afraid of him. “Nothing in my life is of concern to you. Go away, Oliver. Go off on your adventures and leave us alone.”
    Confused by her words, Oliver followed as she tugged on the door handle. She turned when she discovered the door wouldn’t open and he kept her against the door. He touched her arms and then bent his knees so he could see her face. “Why are you always so upset with me?”
    She met his gaze and scowled. “Indifference is better than turning into a bully. Release me.”
    But Oliver couldn’t seem to do that, nor ignore the way her eyes had grown glassy-bright when she spoke. “There is no reason to cry.”
    “No, of course. None at all.” Her voice cracked on the last and he cupped her jaw. When her face turned up to his, tears slid down her cheeks unabated.
    He searched her expression for clues, but could see no sign of why she was upset. He was only trying to help the boy become a wiser man. He’d never understood her disapproval. He doubted he ever would. But right now he couldn’t bear to see tears streaming down her face. He cupped her face with both hands and wiped them away with the pads of his