The Dangerous Lord Darrington(43)

Guy said coldly, 'How much?'

Clarice narrowed her eyes, as if considering the question. 'Ten thousand pounds.'

Beth stared, dismay chilling her bones.

'I will see you in hell first.'

Clarice merely smiled even more at Guy's bitter retort. 'Will you? Then  how will you save Wakeford now Madame de Beaune is gone?'

Beth's head went up. 'How do you know that?'

'I have my sources.' She added sharply, 'And it is no good frowning so  blackly, Darrington. I know you would like to murder me, but I have made  provision for my safety. If I do not return to my friends by noon, they  have instructions to burn your precious letter.'

'No!' Beth looked at Guy. He was still frowning, his eyes hard as  granite. She turned back to Clarice. 'I do not have ten thousand  pounds.'

'No,' came the soft reply. 'But Darrington does. He would not even feel its loss.'

'And I will not advance you one penny.'

'What, not even for your lover's sake?' retorted Clarice. 'Her brother will hang without that letter.'

'I assure you he will not.'

'He cheated the hangman two years ago. There will be no mob to save him  this time. He will be taken south and tried. You may be able to argue  that the murder was only manslaughter, but there's the necklace.' Her  eyes narrowed. 'Life is considered cheap by the English courts,  Darrington, but robbery-they take that very seriously. He will surely  hang for it.'                       
       
           



       

Guy shook his head. 'And I repeat, Wakeford will not hang.'

Beth fought to keep her face impassive. The thought of Simon locked in a  prison cell was torture enough-the thought of a trial and its outcome  was unbearable.

'It seems we have reached an impasse,' said Clarice, shrugging. 'I will  leave you to discuss it. I advise you to act soon. Once Wakeford is  taken south for trial, my price will go up. There is no need to call  your butler to show me out, I know my way. Do not attempt to follow me,'  she warned, walking to the door. 'I do not intend that you should know  where I am.'

'But if we should wish to contact you-' said Beth.

'I will not negotiate with you, Mrs Forrester. I want ten thousand  pounds to part with that letter, nothing less. If you want to pay me,  you may send a message to the Swan. I shall look out for it.'

'You will be disappointed,' Guy ground out, his eyes cold and hard. 'I have no intention of giving in to you.'

'No?' Her contemptuous glance rested on Beth. 'Perhaps you are not quite so enamoured of your hero now, Mrs Forrester.'

With that Clarice turned and swept out of the house.

A heavy silence fell over the hall.

'How did she know that Madame was going to America?' Beth asked at last.

'I am not sure that is what she meant, but it is clear she knows more  about this than she could have gleaned from you and your sister.'

'Ten thousand pounds.' Beth shook her head. 'We would have to sell everything to raise such a sum and that will take time.'

'You must not even think of paying the woman.' He reached out and took her hands. 'Beth, I must ask you to trust me.'

'But Simon-'

'He is safe for the moment.'

She pulled away from him. 'But he is in gaol! You must see that I will do everything in my power to save him.'

'But that should not include paying Clarice her blood-money.'

'I think your hatred of the woman blinds you to what needs to be done,' said Beth bitterly.

'Not at all. Believe me, Beth, I do not intend to let any harm come to your brother.'

Beth closed her eyes. It was difficult to think clearly. 'What do you plan to do?'

He shook his head at her. 'I must keep my own counsel for now. Your  brother will be safe in custody. I will go to Thirsk today to see the  magistrate. He shall have whatever funds are required for his comfort.'

'No.' Beth tore herself out of his grasp and turned away. 'You do not need to trouble yourself. I will go to Thirsk.'

'The devil you will! '

She put up her hands. It was as if she was in some nightmare and could  not think properly. All she knew was that somehow she had expected Guy  to help and he had failed her. Her head, her very being, was swamped  with an irrational disappointment. She said furiously, 'Simon is my  brother, I will decide the best way to help him! I do not need your help  with this.' She drew herself up. 'I do not need your help with  anything!'

She glared at him, challenging him to disagree. Instead he gave a stiff little bow.

'Very well, madam. If that is your final word, then perhaps I should leave.'

'Yes, go!' she flashed back. 'I can manage very well without you!'



Beth was obliged to take a turn about the garden before she could join  the others. Her argument with Guy had overset her quite as much as  Clarice's demands. She half hoped he would follow her, for as her anger  receded she realised she was being unfair and would have welcomed the  chance to apologise. However, he was nowhere in sight when she made her  way back into the house, where she found Sophie and Davey, still sitting  at the breakfast table.

'Well?'

She looked at Sophie's eager face and had to fight back her tears. 'She w-wants ten thousand pounds to return the letter.'

'Ten-' Sophie's hands flew to her cheeks. 'Heavens, we do not have such a sum.'

Davey looked at her. 'Darrington?'

Beth shook her head. 'He … he is adamant we should not pay.'

'And he has the right of it,' agreed Davey. 'You have no way of knowing if she will give you the letter.'

'I would give ten times that much to save Simon!' cried Sophie, an angry flush on her cheeks.

'And so would I, my love,' said Davey soothingly, 'if we could be sure  it would save him. I have no doubt Darrington has a plan. Where is he?'

Beth shrugged and said, trying to sound indifferent, 'I am sure I don't know.'

'Well, we need to know what he intends to do,' declared Davey. 'Ring the bell, Sophie, we'll have him fetched here now.'                       
       
           



       

But when Kepwith came in a few minutes later it was with the news that Lord Darrington had left Malpass.

'The devil he has!' exclaimed Davey. 'Where has he gone, did he say?'

'He left word that he would be staying in Fentonby,' replied Kepwith, his countenance wooden.

'Fentonby!' Davey ran a hand through his fair hair. 'What in heaven's name is he playing at now?'

Beth did not answer. She could not speak at all, but remained rooted to the spot, staring at her butler.

He is gone.

The words rang in her head. She thought back over their last moments  together. Surely he knew better than to believe what she said when she  was in a temper? Unless he was looking for an excuse to leave: perhaps  he no longer wanted her. Beth did not hide from the fact-she had read  enough of Dangerous Lord Darrington's exploits to know it would not be  the first time he had loved and left a woman. She thought bitterly that  he was living up to his reputation.

'What do we do now?' asked Sophie, her lip trembling.

Beth squared her shoulders. 'We go to Thirsk, to see Sir John Marton.'

'I shall come with you,' declared Davey.

Beth was about to refuse his escort, but then she saw the look that  passed between Davey and her sister. A pain as sharp as a knife twisted  in her heart; she had thought Guy loved her that much, but now she found  it difficult to believe.

'Very well,' she said. 'But first, Sophie, we should go and see  Grandmama. We will not tell her about the missing letter, only that we  are going to visit Simon.'



As the Wakeford travelling carriage lumbered towards Thirsk, Beth could  not help comparing it with the earl's swift, elegant chariot, in which  she had travelled so many miles with him. The comparison only reinforced  the difference in their stations. A tiny, insidious voice whispered  that Guy could have loaned her the ten thousand pounds to pay Clarice,  if he had wished to do so. Instead he had left her. She blinked rapidly,  keeping her eyes fixed upon the passing landscape.

'I do not understand why Lord Darrington should want to move into  Fentonby,' observed Sophie as they rattled over the uneven ground. 'Did  he not say anything to you, Beth?'

She swallowed hard and replied with creditable calm. 'No. But this matter is really none of his concern.'

'None of his-!' Davey shook his head. 'Of course it concerns him,  especially if Clarice Cordonnier is involved.' He reached out to touch  Beth's arm. 'Pray do not lose faith in Darrington, Mrs Forrester. If he  refused to pay Clarice, you may be sure there is a good reason.'

'Yes,' said Beth bitterly. 'Because he will not be beaten by her a second time.'

Davey began to protest, but Beth silenced him.

'I know you are very loyal to your friend, Mr Davies, but your  assurances sound hollow. If he truly wants to help us, he should tell  me.' She thought back to the days she had spent in the earl's company,  and the long, passionate nights. Surely that had meant something to him.  She said, the words quiet and despairing, 'Can he not trust me?'

Davey looked uncomfortable. 'He must think it safer not to trust anyone.'

Beth found this response very unsatisfactory. She lapsed into silence,  convinced in her own heart that she had read too much into those few  brief days she had spent with Guy: it was quite clear to her now that he  did not love her.