'I vow you are much better informed than I am,' he told her. 'My steward advises me of what is to be planted each season, but I only know if his decisions are the right ones by the results.'
'I am not so very different,' she replied, smiling. 'The tenant farms are quite small, so any failure of crops will result in hardship, more so for them than for me, so it is in their interests to look after the land. We discuss repairs and improvements and they must convince me their ideas are worthwhile before I will invest.'
'A heavy responsibility,' he replied, cutting himself another piece of cheese. 'No doubt when you are married, Radworth will look after that for you-or will he bring in a steward? You said he had another property, I believe-perhaps he intends to make that your main residence?'
'No, we shall live at Malpass, at least to begin with.'
'But it will be a relief for you to have someone to share your burdens.' She did not reply immediately and he saw that she was abstracted, a crease between her brows. 'Mrs Forrester?'
She looked up, replacing the frown with a faint smile. 'Yes. That can only be an advantage.' She tilted her head, listening as the cry of the nightwatch calling the hour filtered in through the shuttered window. 'It is very late,' she said. 'I should retire.'
She made no move and in the stillness that followed Guy realised he did not want her to go.
'There is still wine in the bottle-will you not finish it with me?'
She pushed her glass towards him in silent acquiescence and a bolt of pleasure shot through him at the thought that she, too, wanted to prolong the moment. Somehow during the course of their supper they had drawn closer together, their knees almost touching under the table, their hands only inches apart on the covers. Guy carefully refilled their glasses; he had drunk only two glasses of wine, but he felt unusually alive and painfully aware of the woman sitting next to him, conscious of her every movement, every slight change of expression.
As he handed her the glass their fingers brushed. She murmured, 'I should drink this and go to my room.'
Come to mine!
Guy wondered if he had spoken aloud as her eyes flew to his face. They were large and dark as midnight pools. At some stage she had removed her kerchief from around her shoulders and several times he found his gaze wandering to the slim column of her neck, the creamy skin unadorned by any ornament. Now he saw the nervous quiver of her throat as she swallowed, observed the quick rise and fall of her breast. With an immense effort he subdued the desire growing within him, drawing on every argument he could muster to stop himself from dragging her into his arms and covering that delectable skin with hot, passionate kisses. She was another man's bride. She was under his protection. Her brother was a murderer.
This last point brought him back to their reason for being in town. Perhaps there, at least, he might be of some use to her.
He raised his glass. 'Here's to good fortune when we see your lawyer tomorrow, Mrs Forrester.'
'Thank you.'
As she looked at him over the rim of her glass her eyes were guarded. She, too, realised their perilous position. The camaraderie they had enjoyed was at an end. Guy told himself he was glad of it-she undermined his self-control far too much for his liking.
She took a few sips of her wine and put down her glass. 'If you will excuse me, I should go … '
Immediately he was on his feet and crossing the room to ring the bell. 'Mrs Burley will be here directly to show you to your room.'
In his effort to be calm his words emerged cold and indifferent. To make up for this he took a step towards her, reaching for her hand to place a formal, parting kiss on her fingers, but she hastily moved away from him, busying herself with collecting her kerchief and her cloak.
'Thank you, you have been very kind.' She did not look at him, and when the housekeeper entered she muttered a few words of farewell and hurried out.
The rooms prepared for Beth and her maid were warm and comfortable and drew rare praise from Tilly as she helped her mistress to undress. Beth hardly heard her. She tried to convince herself that her preoccupation was due to the forthcoming meeting with Mr Spalding, but when Tilly had left her and she was lying alone in the darkness, it was the earl's image that filled her mind. He was smiling at her, his eyes warm and inviting, flooding her body with an almost unbearable yearning.
With a groan she turned over, pummelling her pillow. She would not be so foolish as to believe she meant anything to the earl. A man would bed any comely woman if he was given the chance-her own husband had told her as much, when she had found him closeted with a pretty chambermaid only a few weeks into their marriage. And she had offered herself quite blatantly to the earl, had she not? He had refused her then, angry that she had tried to buy his silence, but she thought it understandable that he had reconsidered and would now be happy to enjoy her favours; perhaps he even expected her to give herself to him, in gratitude for his assistance. He had told her he would treat her as a sister, but Beth was aware of the attraction between them. She did not think it would take much to break that fragile veneer of respectability and send them crashing into a heady, passionate affair, heedless of the consequences. It had almost happened earlier that evening, when he had given her that last glass of wine. The atmosphere had been so charged with electricity she had felt the shock of it when their fingers touched. After that she had been afraid to move, to speak, lest she should betray the naked desire burning inside her.
'You are undoubtedly a fool, Beth Forrester,' she muttered into her pillow. 'You are here to clear Simon's name. Nothing must distract you from that.'
Chapter Twelve
Beth mentally applauded the housekeeper when she was shown into the breakfast room the following morning, for there was no lack of variety in the dishes on offer.
Lord Darrington was already at the table and she returned his greeting with a shy smile.
'Thank you for sending up the writing case, my lord. I did as you suggested and dashed off a note to Mr Spalding as soon as I rose. You are very good to me, my lord.'
'Think nothing of it. I am merely thinking of the inconvenience to my people if your lawyer should be unavailable this morning.'
His smiling look gave the lie to his cool words, but Beth did not respond and merely applied herself to her breakfast. She wondered if she would ever become inured to the earl's presence. Every time she saw him she was aware of a frisson of excitement; he only had to smile at her for the now-familiar ache to drag at her insides, but she had to acquit him of any attempt to flirt with her over the breakfast dishes-quite the opposite, for apart from their initial exchange he ignored her, giving his attention to scanning the newspaper that lay beside him on the table.
Beth was just drinking a second cup of coffee when Burley came in with a note for her.
'Oh.' She was unable to keep the disappointment from her voice as she read it. 'Mr Spalding begs that I delay my visit to him until tomorrow, when he hopes to have more news for me.' She folded the note, adding with false lightness, 'It was as well you did not order your carriage, my lord.'
'What do you intend to do now?'
She spread her hands. 'Why, nothing. I shall be obliged to kick my heels for the rest of the day. But please,' she added quickly, 'do not think I need you to entertain me. You have a well-stocked library here, I shall be perfectly happy … '
'The devil you will,' he growled, throwing down his paper. 'You will fret yourself into a lather if you are cooped up indoors all day with nothing to do.' He rose. 'You told me you have never been to town before. Go and fetch your cloak and bonnet, Mrs Forrester. I will take you for an airing!'
When Beth stepped out of Darrington House she was surprised to see the earl's curricle with Holt at the horses' heads. He touched his cap and grinned at her, correctly reading her expression.
'His lordship told me to bring his horses back from Highridge,' Holt explained. 'Reached the stables at midnight, so I was ready when 'is lordship sent word round this morning. Which was a good thing,' he added, casting a challenging look up at his master, 'for I wouldn't trust just anyone to drive these beauties. Prime goers, they are.'
'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.