The Dangerous Lord Darrington(25)

'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.