The Dangerous Lord Darrington (10 page)

‘We should go back.’ Her throat was dry, the words a mere croak. Regret, keen as a knife, sliced through her as his hand dropped and the contact was broken.

‘Is there no more to see? Can one reach any of the underground chambers?’

Beth forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying. ‘Good heavens, no,’ she said. ‘They have all collapsed.’

‘Not the ones under the house, surely?’

‘Oh, no, but they are used only for storage now. There is nothing of interest there.’ She shivered. ‘It is growing cold. Let us return to the house.’

‘Very well.’

In silence they walked away from the ruins and back through the trees, where a slight breeze set the leaves sighing overhead and one or two fell slowly to the ground, reminding Beth that summer was over.

By the time they reached the cloister garden again a cold chill had settled over her heart. Something had changed.
She
had changed. Lord Darrington held out his arm and Beth took it, her fingers resting lightly on his sleeve, wondering how it was possible to feel so very different in such a short space of time.

No words had been exchanged, the earl had not kissed her—they had not even touched, yet Beth knew that in that brief, sunlit moment she had been unfaithful to Miles Radworth.

Guy noticed that Beth said very little at supper. He frowned. When had he started to think of her as Beth and not Mrs Forrester?

Guy hoped he had not given himself away when they were looking at the ruins of the church. He had watched, entranced, as she flew around the old building, drawing his attention to the exquisite carving on an old pillar top, pointing out a gargoyle still clinging to the west wall. She had been like a sprite, a will o’ the wisp, darting here, there and everywhere, so that when at last she stood still he caught her red-gold ringlet to keep her there. She had grown very quiet then. Did she know how much he wanted to kiss her? More than that. He wanted to ravish her, to possess her completely. But it would not do: she had shown no signs of wanting to flirt with him. She might succumb to him in the magic of the moment, but afterwards, the tears, the recriminations—she was betrothed to Radworth, as good as married. True, Guy’s name had been linked with married women, but they had always pursued
him
. It was not his habit to come between a man and his wife.

For the first time he was glad of the early hours kept at the Priory, and after looking in on Davey he retired to his chamber and threw himself down upon his bed, his hands clasped behind his head. Damnation, she had got under his skin! How long had it been since any woman had done that—nine years, ten? And it had to be one as unobtainable as that first, disastrous love affair. The guttering of his bedside candle told him it was getting late and he began to undress. His ears caught the sounds of stealthy movement outside his room. He was no nearer to solving the mystery at the Priory, but suddenly he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was get away. Davey was recovering well now. When the doctor called the day after tomorrow he would make damned sure he was declared fit enough to travel and they would leave Malpass Priory and its mysteries behind them.

Chapter Seven

B
eth did not know whether to be most relieved or sorry when she saw Lord Darrington riding out early the next morning. Kepwith told her that the earl had breakfasted alone at a most unseasonal hour and had left instructions that they were not to wait dinner for him.

She busied herself with household duties and surprised her sister by raising no objection when Sophie suggested that Mr Davies could be carried downstairs to the drawing room so that he could listen to her play on the pianoforte. Lady Arabella offered to act as chaperon and Beth was free to throw herself into a frenzy of cleaning, but no matter how busy she was she could not keep her mind from wandering back to the golden evening in the ruins of the Priory church. When Miles Radworth called to see her late in the afternoon she made a great effort to greet him affectionately.

‘How was your trip to Staffordshire?’

‘I bought a few pieces of Meissen, but nothing very much.’ He raised his head. ‘Do I hear music?’

‘Yes. Sophie is entertaining Mr Davies in the drawing room. Would you like to join them?’

‘No, I would much rather have you to myself. I want to talk to you about your guest.’

‘Mr Davies?’

‘No, the earl.’

‘Oh?’ Beth raised her brows.

Miles took her arm and led her towards the library. ‘You know I have never been happy about you having him stay when there is no man here to protect you.’

‘I am well aware of the earl’s reputation, Miles, and I am quite capable of repulsing his advances. Not that he has made any, which is a sad reflection upon my charms—or lack of them!—do you not think?’

He frowned as he shut the library door upon them. ‘This is no time for levity, Elizabeth. If Darrington has made no move upon you, it is because he knows he would have me to answer to. I would have you under no illusion about your guest.’

Beth walked over to the sofa and sank down, wanting to tell Miles to keep his counsel. ‘Is this necessary?’ she asked, keeping her voice light. ‘I have every hope that he will be gone in a few days.’

‘That is good news,’ replied Miles heavily. ‘It offends me that a man of such unsavoury reputation should be staying at the Priory.’

‘He is certainly capable of making himself agreeable. He is on the best of terms with both Sophie and Grandmama, but since he shows no inclination to flirt with any of us—’

‘It is not just that.’ Miles took a turn about the room, like a man struggling with some unpleasant subject. He said at last, ‘The man is no better than a traitor.’ Beth stared at him and he continued, ‘It is an old story and thus you may be forgiven for not knowing of it. When I went to Granby I met an acquaintance who spends a great deal of time in town and remembers the scandal. Darrington passed Government secrets to the French.’

‘I do not believe it!’

Beth’s response was instinctive. It was much easier to believe the earl a libertine than a traitor. After all, she had experienced his charm, and although she had little experience she thought she could understand a man being carried away by lust.

‘It was hushed up, of course,’ Miles continued. ‘Nothing was ever proved and Darrington is related to some of the foremost families in the land. He was making a name for himself in the government, too, but was forced to give it all up once his reputation was tarnished. Any man who would betray his own country is a scoundrel, Beth! You would do well to distance yourself from him, especially when we are trying so hard to avoid a scandal in your own family—’

‘Yes,’ she said quickly. ‘We agreed we would not discuss that.’

‘Once we are married, my dear, never one word of recrimination or reproach shall pass my lips.’ Beth stared at him. She did not like the insinuation. As if reading her thoughts he said quickly, ‘I have offended you. Believe me, Elizabeth, I wanted to do no more than put you on your guard.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘Lord Darrington has a fearsome reputation with the fairer sex and I fear I am a little jealous of him.’

‘And I have told you there is no reason to be anxious for me,’ she said, keeping a rein on her temper. She rose, wanting to bring the
tête-à-tête
to an end. ‘I do not believe you need be concerned about the earl. His friend is recovering well and I have every hope that Dr Compton will declare him fit to travel tomorrow. After that we need have no further dealings with the earl. Shall we join the others now?’

Beth put all thought of their discussion to the back of her mind as she took Miles into the drawing room. Greetings were exchanged, Mr Davies’s health was briefly discussed, but when the party settled down and Sophie continued her recital, Beth found herself going over in her mind everything Miles had told her about the earl. She did not want to believe it, but Darrington himself had admitted he rarely went to London these days. Her experience of men was limited, so perhaps her judgement was at fault. He might well be a cunning and unscrupulous deceiver.

It does not matter,
she told herself firmly.
It means nothing to me. In a few days he will be gone, and everything will be as it was.

Beth rose early the following morning; by the time she joined Lady Arabella and Sophie for a late breakfast she was able to inform them that Dr Compton had already visited his patient.

‘He has said Mr Davies is well enough to travel back to Highridge tomorrow morning.’ She added mischievously, ‘It seems Mr Davies suffered no ill effects from your piano playing yesterday, Sophie.’

‘But surely he would be better not to undertake such a journey for a few more days.’ Sophie cast a beseeching glance at her grandmother. ‘Being carefully carried downstairs bears no comparison to being driven ten miles in a jolting carriage!’

‘Are you casting doubts upon the comfort of my travelling chariot, Miss Sophie?’ Beth looked up quickly to see the earl standing in the doorway. He had been out riding and brought with him an aura of health and vigour as he strode into the breakfast room. Beth felt again a
frisson
of excitement, of attraction, at the sight of him and fought it down, telling herself it had nothing to do with the earl, it was merely her own weakness. He was not even looking at her, but was smiling at Sophie and there was laughter in his voice as he addressed her. ‘I vow I am mortified.’

Sophie had very quickly come to regard the earl as a friend, thought Beth ruefully, and now she merely waved away his joking comment.

‘I am sure his lordship’s carriage will be very comfortable,’ declared Lady Arabella.

‘Yes, but—’

‘We cannot trespass upon your hospitality any longer, Miss Sophie,’ the earl interrupted her gently. ‘You have all been most kind, but Mr Davies and I must return to Highridge tomorrow. There are any number of matters that have been left unattended since this accident.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Sophie nodded.

‘We will find cushions and blankets to support Mr Davies’s leg,’ offered Beth, noting Sophie’s anxious face.

‘Thank you.’ She tried to ignore his smile, forcing herself to believe it was insincere. He continued, ‘Perhaps Miss Sophie would oversee the arrangements for the patient’s comfort.’

This suggestion met with immediate approval and when it was decided that Mr Davies should be carried down to the drawing room again, Beth realised that she could expect no help from her sister for the remainder of the day. This did not worry her overmuch; knowing that Sophie and the earl would spend their time entertaining Mr Davies and Lady Arabella, Beth knew she would be able to attend to her own business without fear of interruption.

Guy should have been pleased—he had done his best to avoid Beth Forrester and so far he had succeeded admirably. A full day’s riding yesterday had meant he had not seen the bewitching redhead at all and so far today he had shared only a few words with her over breakfast. He had spoken with Dr Compton when he had arrived to see Davey and made it very clear that he was now anxious to get his friend home with all speed. The good man had not failed him and all was now arranged for them to leave in the morning.

He was enjoying a lively game of Halfpenny Loo with Davey and Sophie in the drawing room; Lady Arabella was dozing in her chair and Beth had excused herself, saying she had work to attend to. With luck, thought Guy, he would only have to endure one more dinner and supper in her company before leaving the Priory for good.

Guy caught himself up. Endure? He was being unfair; that was not the way to describe what he felt in her company. No, her company was not a penance. It was the loss of it that would be difficult.

Having seen Davey taken carefully back to his room and delivered into the hands of his valet, Guy changed into his dark coat and satin knee breeches in readiness for dinner, but he did not hurry downstairs. Beth had shown little desire for his company since their walk together in the ruins of the old church and, much as he wanted to see her, he decided it would be better for them both to spend as little time together as possible. He therefore remained in his room until he judged it almost time for dinner to be announced. His soft-soled shoes made little noise on the boards and his descent into the great hall was not noticed by the two people deep in conversation there. Beth and her butler were standing to one side of the staircase, talking earnestly. Their voices were hushed, but the bare stone floor and walls of the chamber meant their voices floated up the stairs to meet him.

‘He’s very restless, ma’am,’ Kepwith was saying, an anxious note in his usually expressionless voice. ‘I don’t think he should be alone. Perhaps Miss Sophie…’

‘No.’ Beth’s reply was emphatic. ‘We will not worry Sophie with this. I will go down to him as soon as we have finished dinner.’

‘I wish you would let me send for Dr Compton, madam.’

‘And so I shall, if the situation warrants it, but I do not think it is so very bad. You will let me have the keys after dinner and I shall attend—’ She broke off when she became aware of someone on the stairs and glanced up at him.

Good God, what have I done to deserve such a look?

It was gone so quickly that Guy could almost believe he had imagined the horror in her eyes. Not for the world would he be so uncivil as to mention it. He said, ‘I beg your pardon. I could not help overhearing—has Mr Davies suffered a relapse? He was well enough when he was taken back up to his room…’