The Dangerous Lord Darrington(18)

Beth closed the door softly behind her and stood with her back pressed  against it, wondering if she could really carry out her plan. The earl  was watching her.

She had unpinned her hair and brushed it until it shone like a coppery  curtain around her shoulders, the rich colour accentuated by the pale  ivory of her silk wrap.

'Mrs Forrester!'

She forced her lips to curve upwards. She must look warm, seductive.  Smile, Beth, she silently encouraged herself. You are no shrinking  virgin; you know how it feels to be in a man's arms.

'I have come to talk to you, my lord.' Good, her voice was a little  breathless. She did not miss the flicker of interest in his hard eyes.

'Is it not a little late, madam?' he asked her, his brows raised. 'Would it not be better to talk in the morning?'

'I think not.' She took a step towards him. 'I wanted … to be alone with you.'

He reached for her hand and she knew a moment of terror. Quickly she  lowered her lashes, veiling her thoughts from him. He led her to the  chair beside the fire.

'Will you not sit down? You look a little pale. Peters has left me some brandy, or I could send for wine … '

'Brandy would be very welcome, thank you.' The ghost of a genuine smile  pulled at the corner of her mouth. 'It would not do for anyone to know I  am here.'                       
       
           



       

'Of course not.'

There was only one glass beside the decanter. The earl filled it and  handed it to Beth. She took it with both hands, praying he had not seen  the way her fingers trembled. His lips twitched.

'I'd wager you are not familiar with that drink, madam.'

She did not answer him. The pungent liquid was burning her throat,  though she would die before she admitted as much. He leant back against  the bed, his arms folded in front of him.

'What is it you wish to discuss, Mrs Forrester?'

She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. 'I-um-I hope you  have enjoyed your stay at the Priory, my lord. I … I have not been  as … welcoming as I ought.'

He inclined his head, saying politely, 'You have been all kindness, ma'am.'

'You are too generous.' She took another sip of brandy. Really, it was  not so bad and at least it stopped her shivering. She said, 'I have been  a little … cold towards you, I fear, but you know the reason for that  now.'

'You were concerned for your brother.'

'Yes.' She rose. 'I thought perhaps I could … I might … make amends.'

She forced herself to stand still, hands at her sides and her eyes  fixed upon his face. They were only inches apart. She saw his eyes  darken and glow with something she did not understand, but suspected was  desire. As if someone had opened a pot-pourri jar she was suddenly  aware of his scent, a mixture of sandalwood and spices. Slowly he  reached out one hand and caught the belt of her wrap, pulling her  towards him. Her heart jumped and began to hammer a swift tattoo against  her ribs.

You wanted to know how his arms would feel, she reminded herself as she  stepped closer, eyes lowered, breast rising and falling quickly as he  untied her belt and pushed the wrap from her shoulders, revealing her  thin nightgown. It had formed part of her original trousseau, but had  never been worn. Light as gossamer, it hid none of her charms. The  strings at the neck were loose and the gown had already slipped from one  shoulder. He reached up and ran his fingers lightly over the curve of  her neck between shoulder and jaw. She could see the pulse jumping at  his throat. He wanted her. The thought excited and frightened her. He  slid his thumb under her chin and tilted her face up. She kept her eyes  modestly lowered, the dark lashes sweeping her pale cheeks. She forced  herself to stand passively while he cupped her face with his hands and  began to cover her face with light gentle kisses. When he slid his mouth  over her lips they parted invitingly and she was immediately aware of a  change. The earl's mouth instantly became more insistent; he wrapped  his arms around her, sliding his hands over her buttocks and pressing  her against him. There was only a fine layer of muslin between her flesh  and his roving fingers. Her muscles tightened, she was pressed against  his groin and there was no mistaking his arousal. Instantly her body  responded, hips tilting, breasts almost painfully taut. He explored her  mouth with his tongue and she gave up trying to resist and kissed him  back until she was quite heady with desire.

She almost groaned when he broke away and scooped her up to lay her on  the bed. She reached for him, eager for him to take her, but he evaded  her hands and stood looking down at her. The bed-hangings were tied back  and she lay in the golden glow of candlelight, her hair spread over the  coverlet and her body tantalisingly visible through the fine muslin of  her nightgown. She watched as his gaze ran over her. No man had ever  studied her thus before. Her husband had insisted their couplings took  place in the dark, hinting that only a wanton would display herself to a  man. Now, as Darrington turned away to toss his waistcoat over the  chair she was shaken by doubt.

What are you doing, surely you do not think you can seduce a man as experienced as Lord Darrington?

He turned back to her at that moment and she dragged up a smile, but  not quick enough. He had seen the uncertainty in her eyes and stood  looking down at her.

'Why are you doing this, Beth?'

'Does there have to be a reason?'

He had positioned himself so that he did not prevent the candlelight  from falling on her face, but his own countenance was in shadow. She  knew he was watching her and she suddenly felt very vulnerable. At last  he spoke.

'You think that you can seduce me, so that I will not betray your brother.'

'No! I-'

He put a finger on her lips. 'Do not lie to me, Beth.'

She sat up, pulling up the neck of her nightgown. 'I th-thought I might persuade you … '

She heard the anger in his voice as he ground out, 'I am not so cheaply bought!'

The words cut her like a whip and she flinched. She wrapped her arms over her breasts as shame and embarrassment burned her up.                       
       
           



       

'Here.' He picked up her wrap. 'Put that on.'

She almost snatched it from his hand, struggling into it while he  stepped across to the fire and threw on more logs. His movements were  quick and angry. Taking advantage of his distraction, Beth eased herself  off the covers and fled.

Guy heard the soft click as the door closed and swung round. She had  gone. With a muttered oath he threw himself into one of the chairs,  trying to make sense of the welter of emotions that were raging through  him. Anger and disappointment made a bitter mixture! What in hell's name  did she think she was playing at? She was as good as married to  Radworth. Guy did not think her the sort to enter into such an agreement  lightly, but it might be a business arrangement, a marriage of  convenience. He could not deny he was attracted to the lady and if she  had come to satisfy a mutual lust he could have accepted that, but to  offer herself to him, like some sort of sacrifice, and an unwilling one  at that-did she think so little of him?

Sighing, he walked across to the washstand and plunged his face into  the cold water. The chill sobered him, dousing any lingering desire and  cooling his anger. She had come to him in an attempt to protect her  brother, yet Guy remembered the way she had responded to his kiss-she  was not indifferent to him, he would swear it!

And if he had taken her, if they had spent the night in passionate  love-making, what then? Would she have walked away once she had  extracted from him the promise not to betray her brother? No. Beth  Forrester might be a widow, but she was an innocent. He would stake his  life that she was far too honourable to sleep with one man and marry  another.

'So you are well out of it,' he told himself as he climbed into bed.  'You have saved the woman-and yourself-a great deal of trouble!'



Back in her room, Beth locked the door and leaned against it, shaking.  What had she done? How could she have been foolish enough to think that  she could seduce a man? She had no experience, save for the quick,  clumsy coupling she had shared with her husband years ago. When the earl  had taken her into his arms and kissed her she had experienced a thrill  of excitement, a pleasurable anticipation of what might follow.

If only he had not stopped then and questioned her. If only he had  taken her in his arms and made love to her as she wanted him to  do-perhaps she would not have had the courage to ask for his silence,  but at least she would not have felt this wrenching, gnawing hunger for  his touch. Even now her body was aroused, tingling at the very thought  of him.

Without pausing to snuff out the candles burning on the mantelshelf,  Beth threw herself on her bed and curled into a ball while scalding  tears spilled over her cheeks. Her actions had done nothing but make the  situation worse-she might even have made Darrington think Simon was  guilty. After all, what woman would stoop to such tactics if she had  nothing to hide?