The Dangerous Lord Darrington (19 page)

He pulled her hand on to his arm and patted it.

‘One grows accustomed,’ he said lightly. ‘The women are wondering who you are and the men are all jealous of me.’

‘Is that all it is?’ She turned to him. ‘What about that man…Kilton?’

He met her glance with a bland, shuttered look.

‘Kilton is an old fool. Nothing for you to worry about, Mrs Forrester. Come along, let us make one full circuit of the room and then we may take our leave.’

Despite his words she could not be easy, and even as they made their way to the door she felt someone watching her. She turned quickly and caught the glimpse of silken skirts being drawn back into the shadows.

They spoke little on the journey back to Darrington House. Beth tried to make sense of all she had seen and heard at the Shotts’ house—should she be more or less wary of Lord Darrington? There was no doubt that both Sir Henry and his wife thought very highly of the earl, but Kilton’s venomous look and scathing words kept coming back to haunt her. She had no doubt that he was referring to the long-ago scandal that Miles had mentioned to her. She put her hands to her temples.

‘Tired?’

The tenderness in the earl’s voice only added to her confusion.

‘A little.’

The carriage came to a halt and she allowed him to hand her down. As the carriage moved off Guy took her arm ready to lead her up the steps and into the house, where the butler was already holding the door open for them.

Beth noticed a figure hurrying towards them, swathed in a voluminous satin cloak whose folds glinted as she moved. It occurred to Beth that it was unusual to see a woman alone on the streets in this part of town. As Guy led her to the steps, the cloaked figure put herself in front of them and they were obliged to stop.

‘Good evening, Darrington.’

The earl’s fingers tightened painfully on Beth’s arm. The woman raised her hands and gently lifted the hood back from her golden curls. Beth glanced at Guy. He was staring silently at the woman, who raised her brows, saying in a low, musical voice. ‘Are you not going to present me?’ She gave a little laugh and fixed her huge blue eyes upon Beth. ‘I can see you are curious to know who I am, and if he will not tell you then I shall. I am Darrington’s fiancée.’

And with that she crumpled silently on to the flagway.

Chapter Thirteen

‘O
h, heavens!’ Beth took a step towards the lifeless figure.

‘Leave her.’

She stared at Guy, unable to believe his harsh tone. ‘We cannot leave her lying here in the rain! She must be taken inside.’ Beth gestured to the butler. ‘Quickly, come and help your master.’ With Beth hovering about them, Guy and Burley lifted the unconscious woman and carried her into the house. Beth ran ahead to open the door of the morning room, which had been prepared in readiness for their arrival. ‘Put her on the sofa here, by the fire.’

‘Madam.
Beth!
’

She ignored Guy’s protest as she threw off her cloak and plumped up the cushions before the woman was laid gently down. Beth knelt beside the sofa, pulled off the woman’s gloves and began to chafe her hands. They were not as cold as she had expected and she looked closely at the woman’s face. Surely there was consciousness there, despite the closed eyes—could she be pretending? Her mind was racing with conjecture. Guy’s fiancée. The words lay heavily on her spirits, but she tried to push them aside and concentrate on helping the unfortunate creature to recover. The woman’s clothes were very fine, but there was mud around the bottom of the skirts and her satin slippers were dirty from the street. She wore her fair hair unpowdered, but her lashes had been darkened and there was an unnatural colour to her cheeks. Gazing into her face, Beth thought that she must have been very beautiful once. She was still very handsome, but in a showy way that reminded Beth of an overblown rose.

‘I have a glass of water,’ said Guy. ‘Let me splash her face with it. That will bring her round.’

‘No need,’ replied Beth. ‘She is stirring.’

‘How convenient.’

Beth ignored his cynical comment and spoke gently to the woman as she shifted restlessly. ‘Be still. You are quite safe now.’

The woman opened her eyes and stared at her for a long moment before she fixed her china-blue eyes upon the earl.

‘
Am
I safe, Darrington?’

The caressing tone was not lost on Beth. She rose and stepped away from the sofa, suddenly feeling like an intruder. ‘I will leave you…’

Guy caught her arm. ‘No, do not go. There is nothing she has to say to me that is private. Let me present to you Miss Clarice Bellington, and let me assure you that we are
not
betrothed—that ended ten years ago!’

‘And I am no longer Miss Bellington,’ replied Clarice, sitting up. ‘I am now Madame Cordonnier, a widow.’ She put one hand to her head. ‘Since you have a glass of water there, may I have some to drink?’

Guy handed her the glass and she sipped at it while her eyes were fixed on Beth.

‘Is this your latest flirt? I must say, Darrington, she is not just in your usual style. In every report I have had of you, your
amours
have been fair, very much like me…’

‘That is enough,’ barked Guy, a muscle working in his jaw. ‘Tell me what you are doing here.’

Beth retreated to a chair by the window. Guy seemed to have forgotten her existence. His attention was fixed on Clarice, who was now casting coquettish glances at him from beneath her lashes.

‘I saw you at the Shotts’ party and followed your carriage. I am glad it was not too far, because I had no fare for a cab and had to follow you on foot all the way.’

‘I thought you were in France.’

‘Out of the way, do you mean?’ Her lips smiled, but Beth could discern no warmth in her expression. ‘I was there until very recently. I married Cordonnier soon after I arrived in France. But he was a wastrel and gambled away all our money before blowing his brains out. That was not such a bad thing, for I had many admirers—comtes, vicomtes, marquises…but now it is not a good time to be the mistress of a nobleman. So…I came back to England.’

‘To my door.’

Clarice shrugged. ‘That was not my original intention, but times have changed. It seems my…friends…no longer acknowledge me.’

Guy’s lip curled. ‘Can you blame them?’

‘Perhaps not. I need money, Darrington. I have not a penny to my name.’

‘That is not my concern.’

‘That is why I have been going to Sir Henry’s house. I know he looks favourably upon the French and I am always sure of a meal there. But although they have not yet thrown me out of the house, it is obvious I am not welcome there.’

‘Neither are you welcome here,’ was the earl’s frank response.

‘I cannot even pay for my lodgings.’

‘Do not try to play your games with me, Clarice.’

She said tartly, ‘If you will not help me, I shall be obliged to offer myself to the nearest abbess!’

‘Then do so.’ His callous response made Beth start forwards and Guy looked up, as if suddenly aware of her presence in the room. He said bluntly, ‘Do not waste your sympathy on her, madam. I assure you she is very resourceful.’

‘You cannot throw her out on to the street!’

‘I—will—not have her staying in my house.’

His tone was implacable, his words made all the more chilling since at that moment the squally wind hurled a clatter of raindrops against the window. Beth walked over to stand beside him. She said quietly, ‘Please, my lord. It is past midnight. No woman should be obliged to walk unprotected at this hour.’

He put his hand up and cupped her cheek, his hard, angry look softening. ‘Very well. I shall send for my carriage to take her back to her lodgings.’

‘My, my,’ murmured Clarice, watching this interchange. ‘Who is this angel of mercy?’

‘My name is Elizabeth Forrester,’ Beth replied. ‘And despite how it looks, I am
not
the earl’s mistress. He—he is helping me with a…family problem.’

‘You need tell her nothing!’ The earl crossed to pull the bell and the alacrity with which its summons was answered suggested to Beth that Burley had been standing just outside the door. ‘Send for my chariot to come back. As quickly as possible.’

‘And could I have a little food while we are waiting?’ asked Clarice, wilting elegantly on the sofa.

Guy nodded and the butler withdrew, to return moments later with a tray of bread and cold meats.

For Beth the evening had taken on a dreamlike quality. The events of the past few weeks had been so exhausting, so extraordinary, that she found herself wondering if any of it was real. And now, with the night-watch outside the window calling the hour, she was sitting in this elegant room, watching the woman who claimed to be the earl’s fiancée picking daintily at a supper. Clarice was completely at her ease, ignoring Beth and addressing her remarks to Guy, who answered briefly or not at all. At last she pushed aside her plate and sat back with a satisfied sigh.

‘Your excellent housekeeper has not lost her touch, Darrington,’ she said, dabbing at her lips with the napkin. ‘I remember she could always be relied upon to provide a delicious meal, no matter what time of the night we might demand it.’

Beth fixed her attention on her hands clasped tightly in her lap. There could be no mistaking the woman’s look and purring tones, although she was relieved to note that Guy did not react at all. He merely said politely, ‘I am glad it pleased you.’ He walked to the window and opened one of the shutters an inch. ‘Now if you have eaten enough, my carriage awaits you.’

Beth watched those darkened lashes flutter.

‘Even if you take me back to my lodgings I have not a penny. What will become of me when my landlady demands her rent?’

‘I neither know nor care.’

‘My lord!’

Beth was moved to protest, distressed by his harsh tone. Clarice merely fixed him with a limpid gaze. The earl looked from one to the other, his mouth set in a thin line. At length he said, ‘Very well, wait here.’

As he left the room Clarice transferred her attention to Beth.

‘Well, well—you seem to have some influence with Darrington, Mrs Forrester. Has he been hiding you at Wylderbeck?’

‘He has not been
hiding
me anywhere,’ retorted Beth coldly. ‘I have my own property in…’ she hesitated ‘…north Yorkshire.’

‘Yes, near Fentonby, I believe.’ Clarice’s smile mocked her. ‘I asked Lady Shott about you.’ She sighed. ‘He has gone to open his safe, I suppose. I wonder how much he will give me?’

‘I have no idea,’ returned Beth shortly. ‘I only pray you will use it wisely.’

She moved away, determined not to ask questions although so many were racing through her head. The engagement had been broken ten years ago—was that when the earl was accused of being a traitor? Was that the reason they had parted?

Clarice said softly, ‘He was besotted with me, you know. I hear that after I left him he vowed never to trust a woman again.’

Beth turned, putting back her shoulders as she answered coldly, ‘I know nothing about that.’

‘But you would like to be the woman who saves him, would you not?’ purred Clarice. ‘Yes, I can see it in your eyes. You think you can make him love you. Well, be careful, Mrs Forrester, or he will abandon you just as he did me!’

Hasty footsteps sounded in the hall and Beth was spared an answer. Lord Darrington came in, a roll of banknotes in one hand.

‘Here.’ He gave them to Clarice. ‘You will get no more from me, madam.’

She ran a thumb across the edge of the roll. ‘It is not much, when you think what we were to each other.’ When he did not reply she fluttered her eyelashes at him again. ‘You will not turn me out, Darrington? I can hear the rain pouring down outside and it is so very late.’

‘All the more reason to make haste, then.’ He opened the door and barked an order to a waiting footman.

Clarice pouted. ‘You were not wont to be so cruel.’

‘I was not wont to be so wise.’

Silence fell. Beth watched Clarice, observed her foot tapping angrily beneath the grubby hem of her gown. The tapping slowed as a speculative light entered the woman’s eyes.

‘You owe me more than this, Darrington. I was to be your bride!’

‘As a matter of fact, madam, I owe you much less. I advise you to go now, before my patience runs out.’ Burley came in to announce that his lordship’s carriage was at the door. Guy said, ‘Well, madam?’

‘Very well.’ Clarice stood up, shaking out her skirts. ‘I shall leave you here with your…’ Her eyes roamed over Beth, whose cheeks flamed at the insinuation.

Guy stepped forwards, shielding her from that knowing gaze. ‘Get out, Clarice, before I change my mind and call the constable to remove you.’

Clarice’s head came up and she shot him a look of pure venom. ‘You will regret this, Darrington.’

‘The only thing I regret, madam, is falling into your clutches in the first place!’

Beth heard the woman’s sharp intake of breath, a swish of silk and hasty steps across the floor, then the door closed and there was silence.

Beth sank down on to a chair.

‘I would you had not been here,’ muttered Guy, walking to the sideboard and pouring wine into two glasses.