The Dangerous Lord Darrington (22 page)

‘You realise we will not be able to get back to London tonight?’

‘Of course.’ The heat rose to her cheeks. ‘Are you thinking of my reputation, sir? We will face that problem later. Now it is much more important that we find Madame de Beaune!’

They did not tarry over their meal and were soon on their way. After he had handed her into the curricle the earl gave Beth a blanket.

‘I—er—purchased it from the landlord,’ he said. ‘We have no idea how long we will be travelling and it may grow chilly later.’

He waved aside her thanks as he ran round to take his seat beside her, setting off from the White Bear at a rattling pace that had Beth clutching at the side of the carriage. When they had travelled a couple of miles Beth voiced a point that had been nagging her.

‘Did you notice, sir, that the waiter said the younger Madame de Beaune was worried she might be murdered, too? I wonder…perhaps I am refining too much upon it, but—do you think this assault might be linked to the attack upon the de Beaunes in Portsmouth?’

‘It does seem too much of a coincidence that the poor woman should be involved in two such brutal events,’ he replied. ‘If that is the case, then we need to find the woman and get her to safety.’

Beth squeezed her hands together.

‘If there is a connection, then do you think…might it have some bearing on Simon’s case, too?’

‘It’s possible,’ agreed the earl. ‘But we should not get too far ahead of ourselves. First we have to find the lady. If our theory is correct, she may have alighted anywhere along the stage route between here and Southampton. It will mean slow going, we will need to make enquiries regularly.’

‘I know that.’ Beth nodded. ‘She could well alight at any crossroads and we may miss her altogether.’

‘We shall see.’

It was easy enough to follow the route of the stage and whenever they reached an inn the earl stopped and ordered refreshment. His easy manner and generous payments encouraged his hosts to answer his seemingly casual questions about whether anyone had alighted from the stage that morning, or if there was a gentleman living in the vicinity with a French wife.

Beth admired his methods, but she would have liked to take a more active part in their search. She had been her own mistress too long to enjoy sitting quietly and allowing the earl to take command. Indeed, she found Lord Darrington far too masterful. Sitting beside him in the curricle, she was all too aware of him: conscious of his solid, muscular frame when their bodies occasionally collided with the jolting of the carriage, watching his hands as he deftly controlled the reins and remembering how they felt against her body. She dared not allow herself to dwell on that, for it made her go hot and cold; instead of keeping a proper distance, she wanted to shrink closer to the earl, to lean against him and draw comfort from his presence.

That would not do, of course. He would misinterpret her wish for comfort and think she wanted more from him. Which she did not, she told herself firmly, rigidly maintaining a gap between them on the seat. She would have to be extremely careful: she had no maid with her; there was not even a groom to act as chaperon. It had been foolish to set off on this wild chase with only Lord Darrington for company, but she argued with herself that if she had not done so they might have lost their chance to find Madame de Beaune. She squared her shoulders. She was a respectable widow and over the years she had learned how to dampen the ardour of any man who became too familiar. If necessary she would use the same tactics on the earl. The rebellious voice in her head mocked her, reminding her of how little success she had had so far in keeping the man at bay.

That was different,
she told herself crossly.
Then I was unprepared. Now I know my weakness I will be able to guard against it.

‘You are very quiet, Mrs Forrester. Are you tired?’

She started. Just the sound of his deep, mellow voice sent her nerves skittering uncontrollably. Beth pulled herself together.

‘A little,’ she replied, pleased to find her voice was quite calm. ‘It seems all I have done since we left the White Bear is to drink cups of ale or sweet wine. I vow I do not think I could take anything else!’

Her companion laughed. ‘But it was in a good cause—you saw how readily our questions were answered, even if the answers were in the negative. The town ahead of us should be Wickham—we may have more luck there. We will also order dinner.’

She would not allow herself to enjoy the novelty of having a man look after her every need. Instead, she chose to resent his calm assumption of authority.

‘Will we indeed, my lord?’ replied Beth sharply. ‘I am not at all sure that is what I wish to do!’

‘Now is not the time to be missish,’ he retorted as they drove into the square and pulled up outside the largest inn. ‘I doubt there is another town of any size between here and Southampton and even if you are not hungry, I am.’

Beth opened her mouth to reply and shut it again, realising the truth of his words. Lord Darrington grinned at her and flicked her cheek with a careless finger.

‘It galls you that I am right, does it not, Mrs Forrester?’ He did not give her time to answer, but jumped out of the curricle, handing the reins to a waiting ostler before coming around to hand her down. ‘And now you are angry with me,’ he remarked as she preceded him into the inn.

Beth pointedly ignored him. The landlord appeared and with much bowing and smiling he escorted them into a private parlour, where she listened in growing irritation as the earl bespoke rooms and gave orders for dinner to be served as soon as possible. Insufferable man, would it have hurt him to consult her on where they would stop, or the meal they would eat? She jerked apart the strings of her cloak and cast it over a chair, tossing her bonnet after it. She heard the landlord leave and the door close after him. A quick peep showed her that the earl had unbuttoned his greatcoat, but not removed it. He was standing by the door, watching her. She kept her back to him and after a moment she heard him sigh.

‘Believe me, I only have your welfare in mind, madam.’

‘I have no objection to taking dinner here,’ she replied frostily, ‘but I
do
object to your deciding what we shall do with no reference to me.
And
,’ she continued, her pent-up nerves finding some relief in anger, ‘I also object to being called
missish
! You would not treat me thus if I were a man! It is not that I am ungrateful for your services, my lord, but I find you arrogant, overbearing and determined to take charge—’

She broke off as the earl caught her arm and jerked her around to face him. They were standing chest to chest and when Beth looked up she was taken aback by the fire sparking in his eyes.

‘I am tired, hungry and in no mood for tantrums,’ he ground out.

‘Tantrums—!’

‘I said I would look after you as I would my own sister,’ he carried on relentlessly. ‘If she was to treat me to such a tirade, I would put her across my knee and spank her!’ His eyes narrowed. ‘In your case I am more temped to ravish you to within an inch of your life!’

The deepening glow in his hard eyes robbed her of breath. Nervously she licked her lips.

‘Y-you would not dare.’

His face was only inches from her own. He was slowly pulling her closer, his head so near now that when he spoke his ragged breath fanned her cheeks.

‘When you do that with your tongue it’s not what I would
dare
, madam, it’s what I can withstand.’

Her eyes widened, but she could not look away. Their bodies were almost touching and her heart was thumping so hard she thought he must feel it. The images his rough words had conjured sent tremors of excitement running through her, right down to her toes. Her senses were overwhelmed; she felt the heat of his body reaching out to her. It was all she could do not to tremble beneath his unyielding grip. She swallowed, watching his eyes slide to her throat, like a predator deciding where to take the first bite.

‘You cannot r-ravish me,’ she struggled to keep her voice steady. ‘I will not let you.’

He leaned even closer. ‘Your permission is not required.’

Beth swallowed. He was in earnest. She closed her eyes. He was going to take her. Here. Now.

And what shocked Beth most was that she wanted him to do it. She summoned up all her remaining will-power and forced herself to look at him.

‘That, my lord, would be the actions of a libertine.’ Her tone was strong, matter of fact.

‘You know my reputation, madam.’

His mouth as he murmured the words was so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek. The temptation to give in was very great. She fought it down.

‘Yes, but I know you too well now to believe it.’ He raised his head. His grip on her slackened a little. ‘You would not force yourself upon me against my will.’

‘But would it be against your will?’ he countered.

She gave the tiniest shake of her head and slipped out of his grasp. ‘No, but it
should
be. It would be very wrong.’ Her head went up as she heard the rattle of dishes outside the door. ‘If I am not mistaken, here is the waiter with our dinner, my lord.’

She made her way to the table and waited for him to pull out a chair for her. When he did so she sat down, trying to convince herself she was relieved that danger had been averted.

They watched in silence as a waiter and serving maid laid covers on the table and spread out the dishes for their meal. The fading daylight made the room mercifully gloomy and when a boy arrived with a taper the earl twitched it from his hand.

‘I will see to the candles.’ Guy was amazed at how normal his voice was. ‘Leave everything on the table and we will serve ourselves. You need not return until we call you.’

The servants hurried away. Dazed, Guy looked at the taper, trying to think what he should do now. A glance at Beth showed that she was staring straight ahead of her, her breast rising and falling rapidly. She was more shaken by their encounter than she would have him believe. He walked around the room, lighting the candles.

‘I should have told him to put dinner back an hour.’ Guy tried to keep his tone light. ‘What unfortunate timing.’

‘No.’ Her voice was so low he had to strain his ears to catch her words. ‘No, I am glad we were interrupted before we could do anything we might regret.’

He was about to make a playful retort, but a glance at her face showed him that she was distraught. He said gently, ‘For my part I would not regret it.’

‘Perhaps not, but I am as good as married to another man.’ She said sadly, ‘I beg your pardon. I fear I have been a widow too long.’

Guy marvelled at her composure. Any other woman would be railing at him for trying to seduce her, but not Beth Forrester. She knew her own power as a woman.

‘You do not deny the attraction between us.’

She reached for a glass of water and he saw that her hand was not quite steady.

‘I can not deny it, but that does not mean we must give in to it.’

‘Because of Radworth?’

‘Yes. I have promised to marry him. Forsaking all others.’

‘But you are not yet married.’

‘The contracts are signed. We are as good as wed.’ She turned to look at him, anticipating his arguments. ‘Would you have me cast Miles aside for a momentary passion? Events have thrown us together, my lord. I have accepted your help to save my brother, but once that is done we will go back to our own worlds. It is doubtful we will ever see each other again.’

Her words fell upon Guy like icy water. She was right. The physical attraction was strong, but it would not last. How could he commit himself to a woman whose very existence had been unknown to him a few weeks ago? How could he ask her to give up a good marriage and the chance of lasting happiness for a few nights of lustful pleasure? He nodded.

‘You are very wise, Mrs Forrester. And very honourable.’

She shrugged. ‘I am merely being practical, my lord. Shall we eat?’

Beth could taste nothing. She was outwardly calm, but her body was aching with desire for the man opposite. She was grateful for his forbearance. He carved delicate slices of ham for her, poured the wine and talked on unexceptional topics that helped her to regain her equilibrium. She might have thought him insensitive, had she not seen the slight tremor in his fingers when their hands met on a dish, heard the occasional hesitation in his voice as he weighed his words to avoid saying anything that might embarrass her.

Slowly the tension eased. She could talk to the earl, even look at him without blushing; when the landlord came in to make sure they had everything they needed, she was in command of herself enough to remember their quest.

‘I believe an acquaintance of mine lives in this area. A French lady.’ She gave the landlord a rueful smile. ‘Unfortunately we lost touch—she married a country gentleman and I am afraid I cannot recall his name…’

‘Ah, that could be Mrs Graveney, at Bourne Park.’

‘That sounds very like it,’ agreed Beth, trying not to sound too eager. ‘I would very much like to make her acquaintance again. Is the family in residence at the moment?’

‘Oh, aye, they rarely go away, save for the occasional visit to Bath to take the waters, Mr Graveney being prone to a touch of gout, you see.’

‘And just how far is it to Bourne Park?’ put in the earl.