The Dangerous Lord Darrington(31)

'Ah, an émigré.' Sir Jeffrey gave a loud sigh. 'A sad end, then. So you'll be going back to London now, I suppose.'

'Yes, but not quite yet,' replied the earl. 'After such a shock I think  we need a little time to reflect. If you do not object, Sir Jeffrey, I  plan to order some refreshment. May I offer you … ?'

'Thank 'ee, but no,' said the magistrate, puffing out his cheeks. 'I  must get on. There is a deal to do before I am finished here.'

He took his leave; as the door closed behind him, Beth turned her gaze upon the earl.

'Why did you not tell him the truth?'

'That you wanted to question the woman about a previous attack? I  thought it might complicate matters.' His eyes searched her face. 'You  are still very pale. Sit there while I order refreshments for us.'

'Oh, no, I am not hungry.'

'Nonsense. We have not eaten since early this morning. It will put heart into you.'

He strode out of the room and Beth was left in the silence. She was  very shaken by all that she had heard and not a little apprehensive. She  told herself that there was nothing to fear with so many people  bustling about the inn, but she could not ignore her relief when the  earl returned.

'The landlady is even now preparing a meal for us and I have ordered  coffee to be fetched immediately,' he announced. 'I will send for wine  if you would prefer-'

'No, no, a cup of coffee would be very welcome,' she said.

Even as Beth spoke a young maid appeared with a tray, from which she  deposited cups, a jug of milk and a coffee pot on the table in front of  her.                       
       
           



       

'Coffee, my lord?' Beth tried to lift the pot, but her hands were shaking so much that she quickly put it down again.

'Here, let me.'

'I beg your pardon.' She watched him pour the coffee into a cup and hand it to her. 'I despise such weakness.'

'It is the shock of what you have just heard,' he replied.

'I admit I am surprised Sir Jeffrey was so ready to share the details with us.'

'I suspect he is more used to dealing with the occasional theft than a murder. Perhaps he needed to talk about it.'

'Poor woman, such a dreadful thing to happen.' Beth put down her cup.  'I beg your pardon,' she said, her voice breaking. 'It is very selfish  of me, but I cannot help thinking that now there is no one to speak for  Simon … '

The earl drew closer and handed her his own handkerchief. Gratefully  she wiped her eyes and fought back her tears, determined not to break  down in front of the earl.

'If only we had come here yesterday!' she muttered, clasping her hands  in her lap, the handkerchief buried between them. 'To be so very near  and to fail … '

The earl leaned across and caught her hands in his own. 'You must not  give up hope yet, madam. There may be other ways to help your brother.  In spite of my seclusion I am not without influence.'

She looked up at him, his image blurred by tears. Her hands twisted beneath his own and she gripped his fingers.

'Would you really help us, sir? After all I have said … '

'Hush.' Freeing one hand, he took up the handkerchief and gently wiped  her cheeks. 'I am very tenacious, Mrs Forrester. Once I am determined on  a course I see it through.'

He was smiling at her. Beth wondered why she had ever thought his eyes  hard, for now they were blue-grey, warm and soft as a dove. But there  was nothing soft about her reaction to his smile. It warmed her soul,  putting all her fears and worries to flight. He caught her chin between  finger and thumb. She did not pull away, but gazed up trustingly, a  fluttering excitement growing inside. His thumb stroked her lower lip  and she closed her eyes, a sound between a moan and a sigh escaping from  her. Her whole body was tingling. The warning bells clamoured in her  head: she should pull back from this madness. She made a feeble attempt  to free herself from his grasp.

'My lord.' Her protest died before it was uttered and the words escaped as a sigh.

'Guy,' he murmured, so close that his breath kissed her cheek. 'Call me by my name.'

She could not breathe, her body was in thrall to his will. She could  not pull away and in a wild moment of elation she realised she did not  want to. They were sitting so close she could feel the warmth of his  thigh pressing against her own. Guy. She would say his name and he would  kiss her, pull her into his arms and she would be lost. The thought of  it sent the blood pounding through her veins. Her heart was leaping to  her throat, constricting her breath while the aching longing between her  thighs was so intense she thought she might faint. Only a thunderbolt  could prevent him taking her.

The door crashed open.

'Here we are, m'lord-dinner!'

The waiter's cheerful announcement brought Beth jolting back to the  present. She jumped away from the earl, her cheeks burning. Lord  Darrington showed no such embarrassment. He shifted in his chair and  watched calmly as the servant began to set the table.

'You are lucky to get this,' the waiter informed them. 'Such excitement  there's been that the Cook went off in hysterics. It was only the  landlady throwing a bucket of water over her that brought her back to  anything like her old self.'

'I doubt if it is every day that a murder takes place here,' remarked the earl.

'Never seen anything like it before in my life,' affirmed the waiter.  'I know the old woman was very demanding, and didn't speak a word of  English, but she didn't deserve to be stabbed to death now, did she?'

'Old woman?' said Guy. 'How old?'

The servant shrugged. 'Couldn't rightly say, three-score at least, I do  reckon. And a poor do for the young mistress travelling with  her-widow-woman of the old lady's son, I heard. I don't say I agree with  how the French king and his lords was treating the poor people, but I  don't hold with running amok and killing folk, neither.'

Beth sat very still. A glance at the earl saw that he, too, was giving  the waiter his full attention. He said, 'So who was the younger lady-did  you know her name?'

'Aye, my lord, she was Madame de Beaune, too, of course. That upset she  was, she left the inn as soon as it was clear the old woman was dead  and no one knows where she's gone.'                       
       
           



       

'Sir Jeffrey said nothing about a younger woman,' put in Beth.

'Probably doesn't know.'

'But he is the magistrate,' protested Beth.

The waiter gave her a pained look. 'Well, if he didn't ask I doubt if  anyone told 'im. After all, what good would it do to go fetching the  poor young lady back here now? She didn't murder her mother-in-law and  she was that scared she would be murdered, too, there was no stopping  her when she said she was leaving.'

'And just how did she leave?'

Beth marvelled that the earl could speak so calmly when her own excitement was barely contained.

'Hopped on the Southampton stage, she did.' The waiter grinned. 'Paid  her shot and disappeared.' Placing the last of the dishes on the table,  the waiter nodded to them and went out, whistling.

Beth fixed her eyes on the earl.

'Do you think … ?'

He nodded. 'Yes, Mrs Forrester, I do. The Madame de Beaune we seek is still alive. All we have to do is find her.'

Beth furrowed her brow. 'Simon said the de Beaunes had been visiting  Madame's sister, who was married to an Englishman and living in a  village not far from Portsmouth.' She looked up. 'There cannot be that  many gentlemen with French wives.'

'And it is conceivable that Madame was making her way there. We could  start by making enquiries along the route taken by the Southampton  stage.'

Beth nodded. She picked up her fork.

'Let us get on with our meal, then, and get to it.' She paused. The  earl was watching her, a faint smile curving his lips. 'Is something  wrong, my lord?'

'You realise we will not be able to get back to London tonight?'

'Of course.' The heat rose to her cheeks. 'Are you thinking of my  reputation, sir? We will face that problem later. Now it is much more  important that we find Madame de Beaune!'



They did not tarry over their meal and were soon on their way. After he  had handed her into the curricle the earl gave Beth a blanket.

'I-er-purchased it from the landlord,' he said. 'We have no idea how long we will be travelling and it may grow chilly later.'

He waved aside her thanks as he ran round to take his seat beside her,  setting off from the White Bear at a rattling pace that had Beth  clutching at the side of the carriage. When they had travelled a couple  of miles Beth voiced a point that had been nagging her.

'Did you notice, sir, that the waiter said the younger Madame de Beaune  was worried she might be murdered, too? I wonder … perhaps I am refining  too much upon it, but-do you think this assault might be linked to the  attack upon the de Beaunes in Portsmouth?'

'It does seem too much of a coincidence that the poor woman should be  involved in two such brutal events,' he replied. 'If that is the case,  then we need to find the woman and get her to safety.'