The Dangerous Lord Darrington(37)

'Oh, dear, I beg your pardon,' she muttered, yawning. 'I meant to keep you company during the drive!'

'It is no matter, we made the journey safely.' He came round to lift  her down, his hands lingering on her waist, holding her to him. 'Just in  time. It is beginning to rain. Let us go inside.'

Burley was at the door to greet them, declaring that there was a cheerful fire in the morning room.

'Good, we will go in. And bring a bottle of wine, Burley.'

Beth hung back. 'I should like to retire … '

'Not yet.' Guy's grip on her arm tightened. 'I would be grateful for a few more moments of your time, Mrs Forrester.'

Silently she accompanied him to the morning room and sat down by the fire while Burley bustled in with wine and glasses.

Guy stood at the edge of the hearth, staring down into the flames. Even after Burley had gone out he did not speak.

Beth said gently, 'It is very late … '

'I know, but all the way back to town I have been thinking, and I want to tell you-about Clarice and my … crimes.'

Her breath caught in her throat. Did she really want to know everything  about this man? He might tell her things about him she did not wish to  know, he might tell her he was still in love with Clarice. It would be  better to keep her distance.

Too late for that.

'Very well,' she said quietly. 'I will hear you.'

'Thank you.' He sat down opposite, but did not speak immediately. His  brow was furrowed-was he trying to think what to say to her, how to  vindicate himself? No, she did not believe that. He was steeling himself  for an explanation that would cause him pain.

'Guy,' she said softly, 'you need not do this.'

He looked up. 'I must.' He rose and began to pace about the room. 'Ten  years ago …  No. I have to go back further than that. Twelve years ago, my  estimable father died and I became earl. I had just returned from the  grand tour, I was five-and-twenty, inexperienced in women and politics,  but I was an enthusiastic admirer of Chatham-I, too, believed we could  disarm the American colonies with generosity, rather than pursue a  course of aggression and taxation that could only lead to war. I was  happy to work with Chatham, meeting with Dr Franklin and discussing  terms for reconciliation, but the mood of the people was against us. It  was at this time that I met Clarice Bellington. She was young and  beautiful. I admit I was captivated. I allowed myself to be  distracted-after all, it was clear that the Opposition could not win the  argument over America and war was inevitable. Clarice's family moved on  the edge of government circles and were violently opposed to Chatham's  attempts at reconciliation. She told me she did not share her parents'  views. As we became better acquainted I found-I thought-we had many  interests and ideas in common. I thought her then quite … perfect.

'I asked for her hand and was accepted, despite the differing views  between our families.' His lip curled. 'What parents would hold out  against an earldom and a fortune? We became betrothed, I was fêted by  her family and friends-it was a coup for them to bring the Darrington  name and fortune into the ranks of those ranged against Chatham. True, I  never made any secret of my support for the old lord, but neither did I  speak out, nor did I distance myself from those in Clarice's family who  openly wanted war with America. Clarice revelled in the role of  political hostess-her status as my future wife allowed her to cultivate  the society of great men-Sandwich, Gower and the like. She enjoyed the  political dinners and I … I indulged her.

'Then private letters began to be quoted in notices and broadsheets.  They concerned the transactions between the King and German princes for  the hire of mercenaries to fight for us. Oh, it did not put lives at  risk, but it embarrassed the government. And it was serious enough to be  considered treason.' He paused. 'It was believed that Clarice was  involved, but before she could be questioned she left me and fled to  France. Only then did I begin to see her association with me in a  different light. Through me she could move in higher, more important  government circles. And before you have to ask me, yes, we were lovers,  but she was sleeping in beds far more important than mine.'                       
       
           



       

In the heavy silence that followed Beth searched for some words of  comfort to offer him. At last she said lamely, 'You were well rid of  her, then.'

'Aye.' He sat down opposite her, resting his elbows on his knees as he  leaned forwards and stared into the fire. 'But the damage was done. We  were betrothed, and of the two I was known to be the more sympathetic to  the Americans. It was even suggested that I had encouraged her.' His  jaw tightened. 'I was implicated by association and became an  embarrassment to those in Opposition. Perhaps I should have stayed,  bluffed it out, shown myself a loyal subject. My close friends knew the  truth and believed in me, but they had their own careers to consider and  dared not defend me too openly. Chatham sent me a note of support. If  he had been in town to advise me, perhaps I could have stayed, but he  was very ill by that time and confined to his house. So I retired from  public life, took my broken heart and disgraced name back to Wylderbeck  Hall.'

'But surely the blame should have been laid squarely at Clarice's door?'

He gave her a pitying look. 'The men responsible for losing the letters  were hardly likely to admit that they had been duped by a woman. If she  had stayed in England, of course it would have been different, but once  she disappeared the matter was hushed up. Those guilty of indiscretions  kept their good name and their government posts while I, whose only  fault was to fall in love with a beautiful woman, was thought at best a  fool, at worst a traitor.'

'And you loved her.'

'Yes.'

Beth's heart ached for the young man so pitifully deceived, but a small worm of jealousy still gnawed at her peace.

'And now?' she forced herself to ask. 'Do you still … love her? It would  be quite understandable if you were angry with her, after the way she  hurt you,' she rushed on, 'but that does not mean you are over her.'

'Oh, I am well and true over Clarice.' He pulled her to her feet.

'But you have never married … '

'Do you blame me for being cautious?' he murmured, drawing her closer.  His voice was deep and warm, wrapping about her like a blanket. He put  his fingers beneath her chin, forcing her to look up. The fire she saw  in his eyes robbed her of speech. His mouth found hers; she gave herself  up to the fierce, yearning passion that burned through her body, a  passion that blazed all the brighter because she had been fighting it  down for so long. Guy had bared his soul to her and she wanted to  console him, to cocoon him in love and wash away the last traces of pain  inflicted by another woman.

Their embrace was long, hot and passionate. Beth gave him kiss for  kiss, tongues tangling in an ancient ritual that drew on Beth's very  soul. When at last it ended they were both gasping for breath. Guy kept  his hold on her and began nibbling at her ear, the sensation making her  swoon with pleasure.

'Tell me to stop now,' he muttered, his lips moving from her ear to her  throat, the light butterfly kisses causing even more havoc with her  senses. 'Order me to stop and I will ring for Mrs Burley to take you to  your room.'

'And if I do not?' The words came out on a sighing breath, all she could manage as he continued to kiss her throat.

Guy raised his head, his eyes glinting down at her. 'If you do not,' he  murmured, his voice enveloping her like the softest satin, 'if you do  not stop me, then I am going to carry you upstairs to my room and cover  every inch of your beautiful body with kisses.'

'Oh.' Beth gave a soft cry. 'Oh, Guy. Yes, please.'

She saw the triumph flare in his eyes. He swept her up in his arms and headed for the door.

Beth buried her face in his shoulder. Breathing deeply, she could smell  his very male scent beneath the more familiar scent of wool and the  soap from his snowy-white linen. She marvelled at how easily he carried  her, the morning room door causing him to pause only a moment, then they  were crossing the empty hall and up the stairs, their path lit only by  the dim glow of candles. She did not raise her head until he negotiated  another door. She heard him kick it shut behind them and looked up to  see that they were in a large, high-ceilinged chamber dominated by a  huge tester bed hung with richly embroidered hangings gleaming blue and  gold in the firelight. There were no candles alight in the room, but  they were unnecessary.

Gently he put her on her feet, He was holding her against him, his face  so close that she found herself marvelling at the beauty of the long  dark lashes that framed his eyes, observing the fine lines around his  mobile mouth. Beth's lips parted; the tip of her tongue flickered over  them. Immediately the earl swooped on her. He pulled her roughly against  him, kissing her ruthlessly. Her head was thrown back against his arm  and she gave herself up to him, tangling her tongue with his, driving  her fingers through his hair, holding him to her. She made no protest as  he tore the kerchief from her neck and began to trail burning kisses  over her skin. Her breasts tightened and pushed, aching, against the  front of her low-cut jacket. She clung to him as he hustled her against  the wall. As he captured her mouth once more his hands were gathering  her skirts, lifting them aside until he could caress the bare flesh of  her thigh.