The Dangerous Lord Darrington (15 page)

‘Now, Mrs Forrester, we shall be able to continue our journey in comfort.’

Beth shook her head at him.

‘Now, my lord,
you
will be able to go home!’

The sun had set by the time they reached Newark and the blaze of light spilling out of the inn’s many windows was a welcome sight. Beth uttered up a prayer of thanks when the guard announced that they would be stopping there overnight. Lord Darrington jumped out and she allowed him to hand her down. His grip on her hand was firm and reassuring. It would be so easy to allow him to escort her to London. Only the memory of how she had thrown herself at him and how he had refused her gave her the strength to pull her hand away.

‘Madam—’

‘
No!
I will not listen to you. Please, leave me alone now.’ With a twitch of her skirts and a brief word to Tilly to bring her bag, Beth swept off into the posting inn, her head held high.

Guy watched her go, his eyes narrowed, until a shout claimed his attention.

‘My lord!’ His valet, Charles Fitton, was hurrying towards him. ‘We had you in our sights for the past ten miles or so and I told Thomas to spring ’em to get past, but we couldn’t do anything until we’d passed the turning for South Muskham—did you see us?’

‘Yes, I did, and wondered what the devil you thought you were doing,’ retorted the earl. ‘I told you to follow us, not risk my coach and my cattle in a race!’

Unabashed, Fitton merely grinned. ‘We did follow you, until the road was wide enough for us to get past safely. And it was never a race, those poor nags pullin’ the mail being no contest for our team, m’lord. Mind you, I had to grease a few palms to have the pick of the stables at the last posting stage, I can tell you.’

‘I hope you haven’t spent all my money, Fitton.’

‘Devil a bit, m’lord,’ replied the valet, reaching into his pocket and handing over a roll of banknotes to his master.

‘Thank you. Now, perhaps you will go and bespeak rooms for us—and order another room for a lady and her maid,’ he added.

The inn was very busy and it took several minutes for the mail’s passengers to be shown to their rooms. Beth was so tired she was tempted to lie down immediately and sleep, but she knew it would be foolish not to eat something, so she shrugged off her jacket and removed her bonnet, tidied her hair and splashed her face with water. She pulled a fresh kerchief from her portmanteau and arranged it carefully around her neck. Thus refreshed, she made her way downstairs to join the other passengers in the coffee room to await dinner. There was no sign of the earl and she knew a moment’s regret. She had not wanted his company, but she was forced to admit that his presence had provided her with a certain amount of protection. Now, walking into the crowded coffee room, she was uneasily aware of the men’s eyes upon her as she made her way to the table reserved for the mail’s passengers. With a sinking heart she realised that most of the seats had been taken and she and Tilly were obliged to sit at opposite ends of the table. One of the outside passengers jumped up to hold her seat for her, but his gentlemanly act was accompanied by such a leering smile that Beth wished there had been a space beside the haughty man: she would infinitely prefer to be ignored than subjected to the zealous attentions of the lanky fellow who smelled of spirits and tobacco and who constantly refreshed himself from a small hipflask.

During the meal Beth fixed her attention on her dinner and tried to concentrate upon what she would do when she reached London. She would need somewhere to stay, but she hoped that if she made her way directly to Mr Spalding’s office in Cheapside he would be able to recommend a hotel for her. The man with the hipflask was addressing her again, but she pretended she had not heard him and when she suddenly felt his leg pressing against hers under the table she jumped up and excused herself.

Her appetite was quite destroyed. She had never felt so vulnerable before, but then, she had never travelled alone on a mailcoach before. For a moment she wished that Lord Darrington had not left, but she quickly stifled the thought. She had said she did not need his protection and she would prove it. She just wished she did not feel quite so uncomfortable.

Beth asked a passing serving maid for directions to the privy. When she returned she would collect Tilly and they would retire to their room for the remainder of the evening. She did not think that would prove a hardship, for after such a gruelling day she thought she would be asleep almost as soon as she laid her head on the pillow.

She was returning across the yard when she heard a rough voice behind her.

‘Ah. So there you are!’

The words were slurred and there was little light in that part of the yard, but she recognised the lanky form of the outside passenger. She thought that he must by now have consumed the entire contents of his hipflask. Without a word she made to pass him, but his hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

‘Not so fast, my pretty. I’ve had my eye on you.’

‘You make that sound like a compliment, sir,’ retorted Beth, her lip curling. ‘I assure you it is not!’

His braying laugh ended with a hiccup. ‘Ah, I like a bit o’ spirit in my woman.’

She tried to shake her arm free. ‘I am not your woman! Now pray, let me go. I wish to go indoors.’

‘And so we shall, my dear, in due course. I saw you give that swell cove the shove and thought you might be needin’ a bit o’ company.’

‘No, thank you. Please let go of my arm.’

‘Now don’t be unfriendly, lass.’ He pulled her closer. ‘I thought we might have a drink together. Now, what do you say?’

She averted her face, grimacing at the stench of brandy and onions on his breath. The yard was empty and there was so much noise coming from the inn that she doubted if anyone would hear her if she cried out. She began to be seriously alarmed. She heard a footstep on the cobbles and turned quickly, opening her mouth to shout for help, but the words died when she saw Darrington standing there.

‘I think the lady has had enough of your company.’

He spoke quite pleasantly, but Beth heard the underlying steel in his voice. However, her companion merely grunted.

‘So it’s you come back, is it? Well, you had yer chance, now it’s my turn.’

‘I think not.’ Something in the earl’s voice filtered through to the man’s drink-sodden brain.

‘Oho, so you fancy a turn up, do you?’

Beth felt his grip slacken and she quickly pulled herself free. The man advanced upon the earl, fists raised. Beth did not see what happened; in the space of a moment she was aware of a flurry of movement in the darkness, a few grunts and thuds, then the lanky man was on the floor, nursing his jaw.

‘Are you hurt, Mrs Forrester?’ Darrington turned his attention to Beth, but she did not answer immediately. She watched her assailant clamber unsteadily to his feet and stagger back to the inn. ‘Madam?’

She looked at him, momentarily dazed by events.

‘No, I am not hurt.’ Indignation welled within her. ‘Oh, what a horrid man. How dare he accost me in that manner!’

‘He is not entirely to blame,’ murmured the earl, coming over to stand beside her.

She turned on him, saying angrily, ‘How can you say that?’

Despite the deep shadows she could see the gleam in his eyes as he looked down at her. She swallowed nervously, her anger replaced by another, more unsettling sensation. She stood, unable to move as his hand came up and caught one of her curls.

‘You go abroad with that glorious hair uncovered—how can any man resist you?’

His voice, deep and warm now, turned her insides to water and a delicious ripple of desire swirled in her belly. His body was blocking what little light there was coming from the windows of the inn. She had the unnerving sensation that she was about to be swallowed up in the darkness with him as he moved closer. She turned her face up towards him, unconsciously inviting him to kiss her.

‘I—I did not intend…’

Her words were drowned by a burst of raucous laughter. A group of stable hands crashed into the yard, breaking the spell. The earl’s head snapped up.

‘No,’ he muttered, taking her arm in a none-too-gentle grasp, ‘you have no idea how beguiling you are, do you?’

He led her indoors, but did not stop at the coffee room door.

‘Where are you taking me?’

‘I bespoke private rooms for us—’

With a little huff of frustration Beth shook off his arm. ‘How many times do I have to tell you that I am not going to accept your help?’ she demanded, glaring up at him.

‘And how safe will you feel, sleeping in your room tonight? I have seen off one fellow, but what of all the others? I saw them while you were at dinner. Not one man could keep his eyes off you.’

‘You…were…watching me?’ Beth did not know whether to be gratified or outraged.

‘I wanted to make sure you would come to no harm.’ He glanced up at the yellowed ceiling and exhaled slowly. At length he fixed his eyes upon her. ‘Mrs Forrester, when you took Davies into the Priory and cared for him you earned my gratitude. I would like to repay that debt. Nothing else. I have no…designs upon your virtue.’

Her face flamed and she lowered her eyes so that he would not see her humiliation, or her pain.

‘That at least I can believe!’ she said bitterly.

A fresh burst of noisy laughter and cheering echoed from the coffee room.

‘Do you really want to go back in there?’ said Darrington quietly.

Honesty compelled Beth to shake her head.

‘I have a suite of rooms above stairs, including a private sitting room and a chamber for yourself and your maid,’ he said. ‘I would be honoured if you would allow me to escort you to town, madam—I give you my word that you will be treated with nothing but respect while you are in my care.’

Beth clasped her hands together. The thought of spending the night in the little room allocated to her was quite daunting. She would have Tilly with her, but there was no lock on the door; after her recent experiences she did not think she would sleep at all. She glanced at her companion—she might not be able to sleep, knowing the earl was in the next bedchamber, but at least that would not be as a result of fear.

‘Very well,’ she said slowly. ‘I will accept your escort, my lord, for myself and my maid. But I must have your assurance that you will not try to f-flirt with me.’ Her cheeks reddened, but the earl merely bowed.

‘I shall treat you as I should treat my sister,’ he said gravely. ‘Allow me to escort you upstairs, madam. I shall send Fitton to fetch your maid and bring your luggage to your new room.’

He escorted her up the narrow stairs and through a labyrinth of passages to a suite of rooms. She was a little nervous as she entered and found the earl’s valet waiting for them in the cosy dining parlour, but his manner was very civil and he went off immediately in search of Tilly, leaving her alone once more with the earl. She moved towards the fire to warm her hands.

‘This is much more comfortable than the public dining room,’ she said to break the silence. ‘Will we be able to reach London tomorrow, do you think?’

‘Of course, but it will be a long day.’

‘I am not afraid of that.’ She turned to find him regarding her, a faint smile curving his lips.

‘No, I thought as much.’

The light-headed, breathless feeling swept over her again. Her knees seemed to have turned to jelly and she sank down on a chair, folding her hands in her lap.

‘I would like to make one thing clear, my lord. I will accept your escort to town, and thank you for it, but once there I will take my leave. I do not intend to impose upon you further.’

‘It is no imposition—’

‘Once we reach Cheapside—’

‘Cheapside!’

She raised her brows. ‘Yes,’ she said coldly. ‘My lawyer has offices there. I shall place myself in his hands to find accommodation.’

‘You would be better to let me help you.’

He had walked across the room and was towering over her, menacing her peace of mind. She rose and walked across to the window.

‘I may be forced to accept your hospitality for the journey, sir, but you know I do not want your help in this matter.’

‘That is not the impression I had,’ he flashed back at her. ‘That night at the Priory you were only too keen to buy my silence.’

She swung round to find he had followed her across the room. His eyes were blazing with a dangerous mixture of heat and desire.

‘That was to protect Simon,’ she said unsteadily. ‘No other consideration would have made me approach you!’

‘I am well aware of that. And yet…’ He reached out and ran his fingers down her arm. His touch burned through her sleeve. ‘I had the distinct impression you were enjoying it.’

‘No!’ She put her hands to her cheeks.

The earl stepped closer. ‘Then one of us is mistaken,’ he said softly. ‘Perhaps we should try that kiss again, to find out which of us is right.’

He reached for her, but her body was already moving towards him of its own accord, drawn by myriad invisible silken threads. She put out her hands and held him off, but her fingers merely slid up his jacket, moving from his chest to his shoulder. His face was just inches away, her own lifted invitingly, lips parted, every nerve end screaming for contact with him. Her heightened senses breathed in the very essence of him, the hint of spices on his skin, the scented starch in his snowy-white linen neckcloth. The curling flame of desire moved lower. Her thighs ached, her knees grew weak and she clutched at his jacket. His mouth hovered over hers; they were sharing a breath, anticipating the explosion that would occur when their lips met. Beth’s head went back, her eyelids were fluttering to close when she heard the thud of heavy footsteps in the passage, recalling her to her situation. She opened her eyes and pushed her hands against his chest.