The Dangerous Lord Darrington(29)

'Fitton had put out my tawny-cut velvet, but I thought a plainer coat  might be more appropriate for visiting a lawyer. Less conspicuous in  Cheapside.'

Glancing at the earl, Beth secretly considered he would never be  inconspicuous, however plain his coat. His height and bearing commanded  attention. He had chosen to wear an olive-green coat with silver buttons  over a paler waistcoat and immaculate buckskins that were pushed into  his gleaming jockey-type boots. His snowy white shirt, starched  neckcloth and cuffs were of the finest quality and his brown hair  gleamed in the morning sunlight that flooded the room. Her mouth went  dry and she had to bite her lips together to prevent herself from  sighing.

Oh, why did he have to be so very handsome?

'You are determined to accompany me?' she asked him. 'I am perfectly capable-'

He raised his hand to stop her. 'You are indeed, ma'am, but I insist.  We are agreed I might be able to help. My curricle is ready, if you will  give me but a few minutes to break my fast I shall take you to  Cheapside.'

Beth went off to collect her bonnet and cloak. She was relieved that  she would not be venturing forth alone that morning, but all too aware  that the more time she spent with the earl, the more pain she would feel  at the inevitable parting.



An hour later they arrived at the offices of Spalding, Spalding and  Grooch and were shown into a dark, panelled room that smelled of must  and old papers. An elderly man in a full-bottom wig stood behind the  desk and greeted Beth with a fatherly smile. He cast an enquiring glance  at the earl; once Beth had performed the introduction the lawyer  invited them to sit down.                       
       
           



       

'Your note yesterday said you were waiting for news,' said Beth without preamble. 'Are the de Beaunes still in England?'

'I believe so, although my initial information was incorrect. It is  only a Madame de Beaune who arrived in London.' He coughed delicately.  'With the current unrest in France it is not inconceivable that her  husband has been … detained.'

'She might even be a widow,' mused Beth. 'I believe he was considerably older than his wife.'

'And where is the lady now?' asked the earl.

Mr Spalding looked a little uncomfortable. 'As soon as you wrote to me  to say you were coming to London I contacted Madame de Beaune,  intimating that I had a client who wished to see her. I had no reply, so  yesterday, when I received your note, I sent my clerk with another  message. He returned with the information that the lady was about to  leave on the Portsmouth mail.'

'Portsmouth!' cried Beth. 'She is going back to France.'

'Very likely,' said the earl. 'But if we set off immediately we may catch her. She could still be waiting for a passage.'

Beth nodded. She turned back to Mr Spalding. 'Did she leave you a forwarding address?'

'Yes, the White Bear.'

Beth looked at the earl. 'Will you take me, my lord?'

'Of course.'

The lawyer began to sort through the papers on his desk. 'If that is  all, then I must ask you to excuse me. I have promised to visit a client  in Hertfordshire.' He sighed. 'It is a business that will take me out  of Town for several days, I fear, and I am hoping to get away today … '

'Yes, yes, of course, we will delay you no longer.' She rose. 'Thank  you, Mr Spalding. I shall set out for Portsmouth with all speed.'

She almost ran out of the door and stood, irresolute, on the flagway.  She turned as the earl came up to her. 'How long would the mailcoach  take to reach Portsmouth?' she asked anxiously as he handed her into the  waiting curricle.

He shrugged. 'The best part of the day.'

'Then there is a possibility she may still be there.' She looked up at  him. 'How soon can we get there?' He did not answer immediately and she  said impatiently, 'Well, sir?'

'If we go back to Darrington House and order my chariot, we could be in Portsmouth by early this evening.'

'So late?'

'There is another way.'

'Well, sir?'

He turned his head to look at her, a challenge glinting in his hard  eyes. 'We could go there now, in my curricle. I believe we could make it  in less than five hours.'

Behind her, the groom stifled an exclamation, but Beth ignored it. 'If that is the case, then let us be gone!'

Without a word the earl took the next turning and drove through a series of narrow side streets to reach Blackfriars Bridge.

'Which way do we go, sir?' asked Beth, looking at the Thames, its  sparkling waters almost obscured by the number of ships and barges going  about their business.

'The road via Battersea and Wandsworth will be quicker than fighting through the traffic north of the river.'



There were fewer fashionable carriages once they had left the city and  they wove their way between a succession of covered wagons, brewers'  drays and ox carts. At length the road became clearer and the earl  allowed his team to set a cracking pace. Beth relaxed a little, watching  the changing landscape as they bowled onwards in the autumn sunshine.

'You are very quiet, Mrs Forrester. Are you nervous?' asked the earl presently.

'I am led to believe you are an excellent whip,' she replied coolly. 'I  am too concerned with making good time to reproach you for going too  fast. If Madame de Beaune returns to France, I do not know what I shall  do next.'

She could not prevent the note of anxiety in her voice and the earl  took one hand from the reins and laid it over her own, clasped tightly  in her lap.

'There is no point in worrying about that until it happens.'

Beth did not reply. Her voice was suspended in shock. His grip on her  hands had been brief, but it had been such an intimate gesture, bestowed  almost casually, as if they had known each other for many years. She  wondered if he even realised he had done it, yet that fleeting touch had  conveyed such warmth, such comfort and courage that she felt enormous  gratitude towards him. She hugged the feeling to her as they drove on  mile after mile, barely checking at the turnpikes and tolls.

'You're pushing 'em hard, sir,' growled Holt. 'You'll need to change horses at Guildford.'                       
       
           



       

'No, they'll make it to Bramshott,' the earl replied without taking his  eyes from the road. 'That will leave us with less than twenty miles to  travel with strange cattle.'



There was no question of stopping for refreshments and Beth did not  suggest it. When they reached Bramshott she descended briefly while the  earl haggled with the landlord for his best team; by the time he handed  her back into her seat two more spirited horses had been harnessed to  the vehicle.

'Holt!' she cried as the earl took his fresh team on to the road. 'You have left him behind.'

'He is staying with my horses. We shall collect him on the homeward journey. It is just you and me now, Mrs Forrester.'

She ignored his teasing tone. 'If we are alone, then perhaps we could talk about last night.'

'There is nothing to say.'

'But-'

'Pray do not concern yourself about Clarice. She is like a cat and will always land on her feet.'

'But she was your fiancée!'

'And what is that to you?'

His words stung her into silence. What should she say, that she was  jealous of every woman he had ever known? That would be the truth, but  of course she could not admit it.

'Why, nothing, of course.'

'Then we will not discuss it, if you please. Let us instead consider where we might find Madame de Beaune.'

She swallowed hard, trying to bring her mind back to their last stop.  'I spoke to one of the maids there, sir. She tells me there is an inn  called the White Bear at the crossroads, just north of Portsea Island.'

'Then that might be where we shall find Madame de Beaune. Well done, ma'am.'

The sudden praise almost undermined her. She sat bolt upright, her eyes  fixed on the road ahead. 'It seemed sensible to make enquiries.' She  scolded herself for the quiver in her voice.

'This has been a trying day for you, Mrs Forrester. You must be tired.'

'I am too excited to be tired, my lord. I hope by the end of the day to have the evidence I need of my brother's innocence.'

'You have gone to a great deal of effort for your brother.'

She turned to look at him. 'And would not you do the same, sir? Simon's  life is at stake. If it were merely his good name, then perhaps he  could quit the world, live retired and ignore his accusers, as you have  done-' She broke off, realising what she had said.

'And just what do you mean by that?' he bit out.

Beth squirmed in her seat, wishing herself anywhere but here. 'I-um-I  heard that you … that there was … a scandal. That is why you rarely come to  London. Why you live mainly on your northern estates … '

The horses never checked. Whatever his anger he did not allow it to  affect his driving. 'I wondered if you knew about that,' he said at  last. 'Since we embarked upon this escapade you have never once asked me  anything about myself. I am not a vain man, Mrs Forrester, but I was  piqued that you showed so little interest in me. Unless, of course, you  thought you knew everything about me.'