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

what about Mr. Randall? He’s been waiting for an hour already. We were going to explore the abbey today.”
    Regardless of George’s protests, Beth could care less if Oliver Randall was kept waiting. As she had predicted, George had lapped up the man’s attentions, stealing away to the library whenever her back was turned so that he might not miss a moment. He couldn’t seem to understand that there was a line they could not cross. Beth was a servant now and by extension so was George. He should not be wandering so freely about the abbey, even when encouraged to do so at every turn. “The duchess’s wedding will require much preparation and I have need of you,” she insisted. “We can explore the abbey together after you’ve completed the chores I’ve already set you.”
    If Beth was lucky, that would be another hour yet and he might forget all about Oliver Randall and his never-ending stream of confidences and shared secrets.
    “But I want to see it with Mr. Randall. He knows all about the abbey. Maybe you could come with us and he could help you learn the history too.”
    “You will do as you’re told,” she snapped, furious at yet another mention of Oliver Randall and how she should accompany him. Beth turned back to her office but then jumped. The Duchess of Romsey was sitting before her desk, her nose close to the open top of a canister. She appeared to be inhaling deeply. Her head lifted and she smiled a little sheepishly at Beth as she handed the canister over. “A gift to sweeten your day. They smell divine.”
    “Thank you.” Beth pried the lid off and glanced at the contents. Caramels, straight from the new cook’s talented hands. “You’re very generous, but I fear these won’t last long.”
    “Treats are for eating, especially by hungry boys.” The duchess glanced into the adjoining chamber. Her smile slipped as she observed George furiously polishing a silver serving spoon. “I would have been here earlier, but Edwin wanted to play a bit longer today and Leopold was elsewhere. I had a hard time getting away.”
    “Of course, Your Grace.” Beth cleared a space on her desk and drew a scrap of paper from the drawer in case notes were needed. “I quite understand.”
    Her Grace’s frown deepened. “We must discuss the arrangements necessary for housing the wedding guests.”
    “Certainly.” Beth dipped her quill in the inkpot and prepared to write.
    “We will need the rooms prepared.”
    Beth made a note: Bedchambers. “How many?”
    “I should think all of them. I must show my Leopold off properly and ensure any gossip is of the favorable variety. I’ll provide you with a guest list shortly so we can decide who to put where, but there should be sufficient chambers. They’ll just need a bit of cleaning.”
    Beth held in a groan at the work ahead and nodded. It was the duchess’s prerogative to invite as many guests as she deemed suitable for her wedding. However, a great number of bedchambers within the abbey had fallen into disuse long ago. There would be much work to do to make them acceptable for guests.
    “The public rooms will need to be reorganized to ensure appropriate seating arrangements are available. The pianoforte hasn’t been used in some time and I’m uncertain if it still plays in tune.” The duchess sat forward. “It is important that the wedding week goes off without a hitch. We will need to hire more staff, but we can of course count on those that come with their masters. My sister has some thoughts on the subject. She’ll share them with you later.”
    “Yes, Your Grace.”
    Beth made a note to discover who could attend to the pianoforte properly and looked up. “Is there anything else?”
    The duchess’s expression grew serious. “I don’t wish to interfere with the way you raise your son, Mrs. Turner, but George isn’t required to do the work of servants. He’s just a boy.”
    Beth put aside the quill carefully. “He must do something with his