Read The Dangerous Lord Darrington Online
Authors: Sarah Mallory
‘I hope you did not push them too hard on the journey south,’ remarked the earl, pulling on his gloves.
‘If I ’ad we’d’ve been here before you, my lord,’ replied the groom, unabashed. ‘Rest assured, sir, they are well rested and rarin’ to go!’
It seemed to Beth that the groom had understated the matter. The horses fretted and stamped as she took her seat in the racing curricle and once the groom had jumped away from their heads they sprang forwards, so eager to be off that she glanced back to make sure Holt had managed to scramble up into the rumble seat.
‘Do not be alarmed, Mrs Forrester,’ remarked the earl, as she gripped tightly to the side, ‘I have never yet turned over a carriage.’
‘There is a first time for everything, my lord,’ she replied tensely. ‘Pray do not let me distract you. Look to your horses!’
He merely laughed at that and concentrated on guiding his team through the busy London thoroughfares. The sun was shining and Beth looked about her in wonder. Everywhere was crowded with carriages and pedestrians; building work seemed to be taking place on almost every street. She marvelled at the way the earl negotiated the crowded thoroughfares. First he took her to Somerset House, pointing out to her the headquarters of the learned societies, before turning on to the bustling wharf of the Adelphi so that she could enjoy the view of its impressive vaults that supported the fashionable terraces above.
‘I have never seen anything like it,’ she marvelled, gazing about her in awe. ‘However, I do not think I should like to live quite so close to the river.’
‘No. In summer it can become quite noisome.’ He glanced down at her. ‘Would you like to see Carlton House?’
He drove her past the Prince of Wales’s palace and whisked her up St James’s Street, where several gentlemen stopped to stare at them.
‘Oh, dear.’ Beth shifted uneasily. ‘Perhaps I should not have driven out with you. Those men…’
The earl raised his whip to salute them.
‘Acquaintances,’ he said briefly. ‘Surprised to see me in town. No need to fret over them, Mrs Forrester. There is no impropriety in your being seen with me at this time in the morning.’
‘Oh, no,’ she said quickly. ‘And I am enjoying it so much, thank you.’
‘If you have had enough of the crowds and bustle,’ he said, turning on to Piccadilly, ‘let us drive to Hyde Park.’
She said doubtfully, ‘Is that not very fashionable?’
‘The fashionable hour is five in the afternoon, ma’am. We should not meet too many people there this morning.’
He drove on, skilfully negotiating the gates and soon the noise was left behind as they drove deeper into the park.
‘This is much more peaceful,’ admitted Beth, relaxing. ‘I had forgotten how crowded cities could be.’
‘You were not planning to go into society when you came to town?’
‘Not really. I thought only of finding the de Beaunes.’
‘Do you have no evening gowns with you?’
‘I have brought my lilac silk,’ she replied, surprised by his question.
‘Good. You will need it this evening when I take you to Lady Shott’s soirée.’
Immediately she was on her guard. ‘Really, Lord Darrington, I do not think—’
‘Sir Henry Shott was the French Ambassador at one time,’ he interrupted her protests. ‘He still has strong connections with the country and holds a virtual open house for every
émigré
that comes to London. I am hoping we might be able to learn something there about the de Beaunes.’
‘Oh. I see.’
‘I hope you do.’
She bit her lip. ‘I beg your pardon. I thought…’
‘I know exactly what you thought. I wish you would rid yourself of the idea that I have any designs upon your virtue!’
Guy tried to convince himself that it was true, but acknowledged that she was wise not to trust him. He kept thinking of her in his room at the Priory, lying on the bed in a gossamer—thin nightgown that only enhanced her charms and with her hair spread out over the covers like a red-gold sunset. Since that night he had done his best to disguise his desire, but it was difficult, and doubly so when she joined him in the drawing room that evening, ready to go out.
He had seen her wearing the gown before, but this time she had left off the white kerchief to display the low lace-edged neckline of the bodice. Her only ornament was a single string of fine pearls and one glossy curl hung down over her shoulder, teasingly drawing attention to the soft swell of her breasts. He longed to reach out and cup them in his hands, to cover them in kisses.
Beth recognised the leap of desire in his eyes and quickly looked away, one hand nervously fluttering towards her neck. ‘I am a little out of touch with fashion, my lord. I hope this is not too plain…’
He caught her hands and raised one then the other to his lips. He said softly, ‘You look beautiful.’
Beth swallowed. She was hopelessly out of her depth with this man. Bit by bit he was stealing her heart. No time to worry about that, she told herself as he threw her cloak about her shoulders. He would help her to find the de Beaunes and that was all that mattered for now.
They arrived at Sir Henry Shott’s narrow town house and were shown into the crowded reception rooms, where Lady Shott greeted the earl with unfeigned delight.
‘Darrington, my dear sir, I had no idea you were in town!’ She held out her hands to the earl and he obligingly kissed them.
‘I hope you will forgive our uninvited appearance, madam.’ Beth observed her hostess almost purr under the charm of his smile. The earl drew her forwards. ‘Allow me to present Mrs Forrester, of Malpass Priory near Fentonby. She is newly arrived in town.’
Beth did not miss the speculative look in the lady’s eyes.
‘Indeed? One of the Wakeford gels, are you? I remember Lady Arabella very well—she was the terror of the ballrooms when I first came to town. Do you make a long stay, ma’am?’
‘I hardly know yet, Lady Shott.’
‘Mrs Forrester is in town to meet up with an old acquaintance,’ said the earl easily. ‘A French couple—in fact, you may know them. Name of de Beaune.’
Lady Shott’s finely pencilled brows drew together.
‘I do not recall the name, but that is not to say they are not here—we have any number of
émigrés
with us, as always! Henry may be able to help you further. He is over there somewhere…’ She waved an airy hand in the general direction of the crowded room before dashing off to meet more new arrivals.
The earl guided Beth across the room, nodding here and there but never stopping to speak to anyone.
‘We are attracting a great deal of attention,’ she murmured, trying to ignore the stares of an elderly gentleman in a powdered bagwig.
‘Why should you be surprised?’ the earl responded. ‘You are a beautiful woman.’
‘I think it is more the fact that I am with you,’ she retorted, pinning on a smile as the elderly gentleman approached.
The old man ignored her and fixed his angry eyes upon the earl.
‘So, you’re back are you, Darrington? Surprised you have the gall to show your face!’
‘Indeed, Kilton? Now why should that be?’
The earl’s voice was silky smooth, but Beth’s hand was on his arm and she noted how his muscles tensed beneath the sleeve.
‘You know very well, sir,’ blustered Kilton. ‘It may have been a decade ago, but—’
‘Not everyone’s memory is as long as yours, Kilton.’
The underlying menace in the earl’s careless drawl made the old gentleman draw back, eyes snapping.
‘Damn your eyes, sir,’ he hissed. ‘You are a disgrace to your name and your politics!’
Beth’s grip on the earl’s arm tightened. Was this the treason that Miles had disclosed to her?
‘My lord—’
‘Come, ma’am, we must not allow ourselves to be distracted.’ His faint, distant smile told her he would not discuss the matter, but as they made their way across the room she was even more aware of the stares that accompanied them. Some were merely curious, others blatantly unfriendly. However, there was no mistaking the welcome they received from a rotund gentleman with bushy side-whiskers. His jolly face broke into a beaming smile as soon as he spotted the earl.
‘Darrington, my boy!’
The earl introduced him to Beth as their host, Sir Henry Shott. She was encouraged by his obvious delight in seeing them and lost no time in asking him if he knew of a Monsieur de Beaune, recently arrived from France.
‘Beaune…hmm. Names rings a bell with me. Yes, I remember now. There was a Madame de Beaune came to see me a few days ago. Recently arrived from France and in need of money. I helped her sell some of her jewelry.’
‘And do you know where she is living?’ asked Beth.
Sir Henry shook his head. ‘She would not tell me, preferred to keep it a secret. Don’t be too disheartened,’ he added, observing her disappointment. ‘Many of these
émigrés
arrive here in desperate straits and anxious for their safety. Once they realise we mean them no harm they soon settle down.’
‘Perhaps some of your other guests might know of the de Beaunes’ whereabouts,’ suggested Guy.
‘It’s possible. Old Leclerc, for example.’ Sir Henry nodded towards a courtly looking gentleman in an embroidered coat and heavily powdered wig. ‘He’s been here for years now and makes it his business to take all the new
émigrés
under his wing. Go and renew your acquaintance with him, Guy, he should remember you, although he’s a bit deaf so you might want to take him to one side.’ He held out his arm to Beth and said with a twinkling smile, ‘You can leave Mrs Forrester safely with me!’
Sir Henry shook his head as they watched the earl walk away. ‘Sad loss to the country when that young man quit the government.’
‘Indeed?’ said Beth. ‘That was ten years ago, I think?’
‘Aye, all of that.’
‘Why did he resign?’ She tried to keep her voice casual.
‘Oh, some scandal or another,’ came the airy reply.
Beth hesitated. ‘We have just met someone—Kilton—who said—’
‘Now you don’t want to listen to old Kilton, He has been at odds with Darrington’s family for generations. Don’t believe all you hear about the earl, ma’am. He has his faults but he is a loyal Englishman, that I’ll vouch for! Now, madam, Darrington said you hailed from Yorkshire. Do you know Ripon? I have some very happy memories of that place…’
Beth resigned herself to the fact that Sir Henry was not going to tell her anything more about the earl’s past and she allowed him to rattle on as he pleased, only requiring the odd word from her to keep the conversation going. His attention was claimed by another guest and Beth quickly excused him with an assurance that she was happy to make her own way around the room. Many of the guests were newly arrived from France and she was glad that her excellent education meant she could communicate with the
émigrés
in their own language.
She was passing a little knot of ladies when she heard one say, ‘So that is Darrington’s latest flirt.’
‘And not a maid, this time,’ replied another. ‘Very wise, if he wishes to avoid another episode like the Brentry scandal!’
Their unkind laughter and knowing looks brought an angry flush to Beth’s cheeks. She turned away quickly, only to find her way blocked by her hostess. Lady Shott took her arm, saying quietly, ‘Come away, Mrs Forrester. ’Tis a pity some people have such a penchant for salacious gossip. And it is quite untrue, of course.’
Beth could not resist saying, ‘The scandal they spoke of—was it the Miss B—mentioned in the newssheets?’
Lady Shott nodded. ‘Lady Brentry was throwing the poor gel at Darrington for months and all the while she was pining for another. Not, of course, that a parson’s son could compare with the rich Earl of Darrington! Then her beau got her with child and married her, but not before Lady B. had tried to put it about that the child was the earl’s! Not a word of truth in it, of course.’
Beth’s eyes strayed across the room to where the earl was talking with a group of gentlemen. ‘How can you be so sure, ma’am? After all, so many rumours…’
‘Because I know Darrington,’ replied Lady Shott. ‘He would not take advantage of an innocent. Besides, he was at the other end of the country when the coupling must have occurred!’ She gave a little huff of exasperation. ‘Not that he helped matters by giving the couple a very generous sum as a wedding present! It looked for all the world as if he was paying them off! But Darrington was unrepentant and the young couple were glad enough of the money. They have gone off now to live in happy obscurity in Wales.’ She glanced up and smiled as Lord Darrington came up. ‘Ah there you are, my lord. Any news?’
‘I’m afraid not. Leclerc has not seen the de Beaunes, although he did say he had been asked to look out for them.’
‘Madame de Beaune has family in England,’ said Beth slowly. ‘Perhaps they have contacted him.’
‘Aye, that will be it,’ nodded their hostess. ‘Everyone in town goes to Leclerc for information about the French.’ With another genial smile she wandered away.
‘Is there anyone else here we might ask?’ asked Beth, looking around.
‘I doubt it. I think we must wait to talk to your lawyer in the morning. Do you want to leave?’
‘As soon as may be.’ Beth shivered. ‘Everywhere I look I find people staring. I have never been the centre of so much attention before.’