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The Dangerous Lord Darrington(11)

By:Sarah Mallory


No! With enormous effort Beth tore her eyes away. The impression that  they were imprisoned together in a bubble of lamplight was merely an  illusion and she must break free of it. She must stay strong and keep  her own council.

She swallowed, cleared her throat and said huskily, 'Thank you, but I  am not alarmed.' She added in a stronger voice, 'Neither am I in the  mood for funning.'

She reached for the lamp, her hand trembling as her fingers brushed the  earl's. She held the lamp aloft and led the way back through the  darkened house. The earl walked beside her, his long, lazy stride easily  keeping up. Neither spoke until they reached Guy's bedchamber, where a  faint shaft of light spilled out from the open door.

'It is never wise to leave your bedside candles burning unattended, Lord Darrington.'

'I hope I shall not have cause to do so again.'

'You had no cause to do so tonight.'

In the doorway he turned to face her and they stood, irresolute, as if  neither of them wished to bring the moment to an end. But Beth knew that  was mere foolishness. Lord Darrington had received only the barest  civility from her while he had been at the Priory and must be longing to  return to more hospitable surroundings. For her part, the sooner the  earl took himself and his friend back to Highridge the better.

Beth put up her chin and, bidding the earl a chilly goodnight, she turned and hurried back to her own room.





Chapter Six



'Elizabeth, my love, you are looking haggard this morning. Far too pale.'

Lady Arabella's greeting as Beth took her place at the breakfast table  was direct and to the point. Beth ignored the earl sitting opposite her.  It really was of no consequence to her that he was looking as if he had  spent an undisturbed night with an army of servants to shave and dress  him.

'I did not sleep well, Grandmama.'

'I think I know the reason for that.'

Lord Darrington's remark brought Beth's eyes to his face, her heart  plummeting, then soaring to her throat, almost choking her as she waited  fearfully for him to continue. He held her eyes for a long moment.

'It was the wind,' he said blandly. 'It was rattling the window for most of the night.'

The suffocating fear was replaced by anger. He was teasing her! He met her furious glare with a look of pure innocence.

'Would that be it, Mrs Forrester?'

Relieved laughter trembled in her throat at his impudence. 'Yes, my lord,' she said unsteadily. 'I think you must be right.'

'If the blustery wind kept you awake, I am sorry for it, my lord,'  declared Lady Arabella. 'I cannot think it would affect Beth, however.  She has lived here long enough to grow accustomed to it.'

'Thankfully it does not appear to have disturbed everyone,' said Beth  quickly. 'I saw Peters on my way downstairs and he told me Mr Davies  passed a very peaceful night.' She threw a quick look towards the earl.  'I am hopeful Dr Compton will declare him fit to travel today.'

Sophie came in at that moment, hurrying towards the table, words of apology tumbling from her lips.

'Grandmama, I beg your pardon for being late, I have been helping Mr Davies with his breakfast-'

Beth almost spilled her coffee at this artless speech. 'Sophie! There  was no need for that, especially now that Peters is here.'                       
       
           



       

'I know, Beth, but I heard the most dreadful clatter as I passed his  room and the door was open so I peeped in, just to ask how Mr Davies  went on, and I could see that his valet was having difficulty because  his master had thrown his spoon across the room.' She twinkled. 'I fear  poor Mr Davies is quite uncomfortable, you see. He told me his wrist  hurt far too much for him to feed himself.'

'Couldn't hurt that much if he could hurl his spoon at his valet,' remarked the earl.

'I fear the pain from his injuries had made him short-tempered,' said  Sophie innocently. 'So I offered to help him with his porridge. He was  very grateful, I assure you.'

'I am sure he was,' murmured Beth. She suspected that few gentlemen  would object to being attended by a pretty young lady and she had to  admit that Sophie was looking particularly fetching this morning in her  yellow muslin gown and with her soft brown hair curling around an open,  smiling face.

'I have no objection to Sophie visiting the sickroom,' pronounced Lady  Arabella. 'It is not as though Mr Davies is infectious and I am sure the  sight of her will raise his spirits. But I must insist that she does  not do so unaccompanied.'

'No, indeed, Grandmama,' Sophie assured her earnestly. 'Peters was in  attendance all the time. And I should like to help-perhaps I may read to  Mr Davies later … '

'Let us wait to see what Dr Compton says when he calls this afternoon,' put in Beth quickly.

'Well, I do not see that he will object,' returned Sophie. 'And since  Grandmama approves, I shall go back to sit with Mr Davies when I have  broken my fast. Peters is going to let me know when he has made his  master presentable, for Mr Davies insists upon being shaved before I  visit him again.'

Sophie applied herself to her breakfast, unaware of the effect of her words upon her sister.

'It does appear that Davies is vastly improved this morning,' murmured  the earl as he helped himself to another slice of cold beef.

Beth did not reply. She hoped he was improved enough to leave the  Priory. She had cares enough without adding a blossoming love affair  between her sister and the invalid.



She was just emerging from the wine cellar when Kepwith announced that Dr Compton had arrived.

'The earl was waiting for him on the drive, madam,' the butler informed her. 'He has taken him up to the sickroom.'

'Has he indeed?' declared Beth, angrily shaking the dust from her skirts. 'And who gave him the right to do that?'

Kepwith bent a fatherly eye upon her. 'Now, Miss Elizabeth, you know  the doctor never stands upon ceremony in this house and would have gone  up anyway.'

'That is not the point,' she declared, stripping off her apron and hurrying to the stairs.

She entered the sickroom just as the doctor was pulling the bedclothes back up over the patient.

'Well, now, things are mending very nicely indeed,' he declared. 'Your  ribs will be sore for a few weeks, I dare say but I think if you are  careful there is no reason why you shouldn't sit out of bed … '

'Does that mean Mr Davies could manage a carriage ride?' asked Beth hopefully.

'To take him home, you mean?' replied the doctor. 'Well, I don't see  any reason why … ' his jovial gaze went past Beth and after an  infinitesimal pause he continued ' … why he shouldn't be fit enough to  travel in a-um-a week or so.'

Beth swung round. The earl was standing behind her, his countenance impassive.

'I thought, Doctor, that you said Mr Davies was much improved,' she said suspiciously.

'He is, my dear Mrs Forrester, but one cannot be too careful with a fracture such as this.'

'It is still as sore as the very devil,' added the patient, giving Beth a soulful look.

'But I am informed the earl's travelling carriage is very comfortable,'  Beth persisted. 'And I am sure we can find mountains of cushions to  protect Mr Davies's leg.'

'Out of the question,' returned the earl. 'I could not go against the doctor's advice.'

'No, it would not be wise.' Doctor Compton shook his head. 'Let us give it another week and I will call again.'

'A week!' cried Beth, dismayed.

'Well, there is little point in my calling before that. Time is the  great healer, madam!' He picked up his bag. 'You may send for me if  there is any change, but if not I shall call again in a se'ennight.'

With a cheerful word of farewell the doctor went out and Beth followed him, closing the door upon the two gentlemen.                       
       
           



       

'If I were a more sensitive soul,' remarked Davey in thoughtful tones, 'I should think our hostess was wishing me at Jericho.'

Guy grinned at him. 'Not you, Davey, it is I she wishes to see gone from the Priory.'

'And I thought you shared the sentiment. Why, man, only yesterday you were saying how much you wanted to leave.'

'That was yesterday.'

'Well, I must say it suits me very well to stay, especially if Miss  Sophie is here to entertain me.' He looked up at Guy, an added glow in  his blue eyes. 'Is she not an angel?'

'She must be if she could persuade you to eat porridge!'

'Yes, well, it isn't so very bad, you know, especially when served up by Miss Sophie.'

'She will provide you with a very pleasant diversion,' laughed Guy.

'But that does not explain your change of heart,' Davey persisted. 'I  made sure the old sawbones was going to say I was ready to go home, then  he caught your eye and changed his mind.'

'There is some mystery here, Davey, and I am intrigued.' Briefly he told Davey about meeting Beth in the corridor.

'So she has a lover,' said Davey, shrugging. 'That is not so unusual.'

'No, I don't think that is it,' said Guy slowly. 'When I discovered her  last night she looked truly terrified. And little things do not add up,  such as telling me she is making poultices for a lame mare when the  groom knows nothing about it, and strange noises in the middle of the  night.'