The Dangerous Lord Darrington(33)

'I should have told him to put dinner back an hour.' Guy tried to keep his tone light. 'What unfortunate timing.'

'No.' Her voice was so low he had to strain his ears to catch her  words. 'No, I am glad we were interrupted before we could do anything we  might regret.'

He was about to make a playful retort, but a glance at her face showed  him that she was distraught. He said gently, 'For my part I would not  regret it.'

'Perhaps not, but I am as good as married to another man.' She said  sadly, 'I beg your pardon. I fear I have been a widow too long.'

Guy marvelled at her composure. Any other woman would be railing at him  for trying to seduce her, but not Beth Forrester. She knew her own  power as a woman.

'You do not deny the attraction between us.'

She reached for a glass of water and he saw that her hand was not quite steady.

'I can not deny it, but that does not mean we must give in to it.'

'Because of Radworth?'

'Yes. I have promised to marry him. Forsaking all others.'

'But you are not yet married.'

'The contracts are signed. We are as good as wed.' She turned to look  at him, anticipating his arguments. 'Would you have me cast Miles aside  for a momentary passion? Events have thrown us together, my lord. I have  accepted your help to save my brother, but once that is done we will go  back to our own worlds. It is doubtful we will ever see each other  again.'

Her words fell upon Guy like icy water. She was right. The physical  attraction was strong, but it would not last. How could he commit  himself to a woman whose very existence had been unknown to him a few  weeks ago? How could he ask her to give up a good marriage and the  chance of lasting happiness for a few nights of lustful pleasure? He  nodded.

'You are very wise, Mrs Forrester. And very honourable.'

She shrugged. 'I am merely being practical, my lord. Shall we eat?'

Beth could taste nothing. She was outwardly calm, but her body was  aching with desire for the man opposite. She was grateful for his  forbearance. He carved delicate slices of ham for her, poured the wine  and talked on unexceptional topics that helped her to regain her  equilibrium. She might have thought him insensitive, had she not seen  the slight tremor in his fingers when their hands met on a dish, heard  the occasional hesitation in his voice as he weighed his words to avoid  saying anything that might embarrass her.

Slowly the tension eased. She could talk to the earl, even look at him  without blushing; when the landlord came in to make sure they had  everything they needed, she was in command of herself enough to remember  their quest.

'I believe an acquaintance of mine lives in this area. A French lady.'  She gave the landlord a rueful smile. 'Unfortunately we lost touch-she  married a country gentleman and I am afraid I cannot recall his name … '

'Ah, that could be Mrs Graveney, at Bourne Park.'                       
       
           



       

'That sounds very like it,' agreed Beth, trying not to sound too eager.  'I would very much like to make her acquaintance again. Is the family  in residence at the moment?'

'Oh, aye, they rarely go away, save for the occasional visit to Bath to  take the waters, Mr Graveney being prone to a touch of gout, you see.'

'And just how far is it to Bourne Park?' put in the earl.

The landlord scratched his head. 'No more than three miles, sir, just  off the Southampton road. Funny how things go,' he remarked as he began  to gather up their empty dishes. 'I hired my gig to another lady this  morning, who was wishful to go to Bourne Park.'

Beth's eyes flew to the earl, excitement bubbling up within her.

'That could be Mrs Graveney's sister,' she said brightly. 'I know she was planning to visit very soon.'

'Aye, that will be it.' The landlord grinned at them. 'Pity you didn't  arrive earlier, I think the poor lady would have been glad of your  company-she seemed uncommon nervous to be travelling alone, her being  foreign and her English not being that good.'

Beth could hardly contain herself until the man was out of the room again.

'It can only be Madame de Beaune,' she said excitedly, as soon as they  were alone. 'There is a moon tonight-if the landlord is right about the  distance we could be there in an hour.'

'Are you proposing to call upon a country gentleman at ten o'clock at  night?' The earl raised his brows. 'He would not thank you for it.'

She put her hands together, prayer-like, and rested them against her mouth.

'I know it,' she said slowly, 'but what if the attack at the White Bear  was intended for the younger Madame, and not for her mother? What if  the killer has followed her here? If anything else should happen … '

Beth knew she was pleading, but she was not ashamed of it. After a moment the earl nodded.

'Very well. I will have the horses put to.' He smiled at her. 'Put on  your cloak again, Mrs Forrester. We are going to Bourne Park.'



Driving in an open carriage at night was a new experience for Beth.  They travelled through a world devoid of colour-everything was shades of  grey in the dim light of the new moon. She kept her cloak pulled around  her to protect against the chill air. They saw no other traffic and  everything was still save for the occasional flight of a night bird, and  once an owl swooped past on silent wings. The landlord's directions  proved accurate and some forty minutes later they found themselves at  the gates of Bourne Lodge. The gates were closed and the drive curved  away into a wall of trees so they could not see the house.

The earl handed the reins to Beth and jumped down. Beth watched him walk up to the gates and heard the rattle of a chain.

'Locked.' Even as he spoke there was a commotion in the park. Two  snarling, barking shapes appeared out of the darkness and hurled  themselves at the gates. The earl stepped away. 'Guard dogs. Someone is  protecting themselves.' He glanced back at Beth, who was trying to calm  the startled horses. 'Can you handle them?'

'Of course. They are not going to bolt with me.' They had just grown  quiet when a coarse shout from the park made the team throw up their  heads again, snorting nervously.

'Who goes there?' She could just discern a man's figure approaching the  gates, his face a pale blur. As he came nearer the moonlight gleamed on  the barrel of his shotgun. 'Who are you?' he demanded. 'What are you  doing here?'

'If this is Bourne Park, then we would like to see Mr Graveney,' said  the earl, raising his voice to make himself heard above the howling  dogs.

'Quiet, Samson, Ajax!' The man cuffed the nearest dog and the noise  subsided to a muted growl. 'That's as may be, but the master's retired  for the night and given orders that no one's to be admitted.'

'Very wise.' The earl reached into his pocket and drew out a small  silver case. There was a flash as he flicked it open. 'Perhaps you would  be so good as to give your master this card and tell him I shall call  upon him in the morning.'

Beth was relieved to see that he kept his hands well back from the bars  and the snapping jaws of the two dogs. Silently the man reached out and  took the card.

'Thank you.' The earl tossed him a coin. 'That is for your trouble. And  there will be another for you if you are here to open the gates for us  tomorrow morning-and those animals are chained up.'

'That's for the master to say,' muttered the man, pocketing the coin and the card.                       
       
           



       

'Of course.' The earl climbed up beside Beth and took the reins from her. 'But I think he will see us.'

With that he deftly turned the team and they trotted away.

'I do not think we need fear for the lady's safety tonight,' he remarked as they sped back through the darkness.

'I hope you are correct.' She shuddered. 'I would not like to enter the park with such dogs on the prowl.'

'Nor I. But I am very hopeful that we have tracked down the elusive  Madame de Beaune. There is nothing more to be done until the morning, so  I suggest we go back to the inn for a cup of hot punch before we  retire.'

Beth's thoughts had been so taken up with finding Madame de Beaune that  it was not until they were sitting by the fire in their private room  that she began to feel self-conscious again in the earl's company. They  had discussed possible ways in which the murder at the White Bear might  be connected with Simon, but nothing seemed to fit.

'Perhaps we must accept that it was an unfortunate coincidence,'  remarked the earl as he leaned near the fire, stirring a small kettle of  steaming punch.

'I cannot believe it,' replied Beth, frowning. 'That someone should  attack young Madame and steal her necklace, then two years later she  should return to England and her mother-in-law is brutally murdered.  There must be a connection.'

'If not, then it is a sad indictment on our country.' The earl paused  to taste the punch. 'There is one link we have not considered,' he said,  pouring more rum into the pot. Beth waited. 'Miles Radworth.'