Haunted by the Earl's Touch

by Ann Lethbridge

  ‘Against the wall, both of you,’ Gerald ordered.

  They shuffled back.

  He passed by them, but since he had the pistol shoved against Mary’s chest, Bane could not risk an attack. He could see that the pistol was cocked and the lightest pressure on the trigger would cause it to fire.

  And then he was past them. ‘Here.’ He handed Bane a lantern and stepped back. ‘Walk straight ahead.’

  ‘It seems you have thought of everything,’ Bane said, holding the lantern up.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting both of you,’ Gerald said. ‘Just Miss Wilding. But this is better. Much better. Don’t try anything, Bane. Miss Wilding will confirm I have my pistol pressed to her neck.’

  Mary gasped.

  Bane’s blood froze. He stifled a curse. He was going to make this man pay.

  The skin across Bane’s back tightened as they headed into yet another narrow tunnel. A draught of cool air blasted through it and when they reached the end and it once more opened out, Bane could see why. This cave led out to open water. He could see the waves washing into the mouth of the cave a few yards away.

  They were standing on what looked very much like a quay with a boat lying on its side on a narrow strip of sand. It was tied to a ring set in the rocks.

  Judging from the way the seaweed grew up the walls, when the tide came in, where they were standing would be underwater.

  ‘You weren’t thinking of going for a midnight sail?’ Bane said lightly. ‘I don’t think Miss Wilding is very fond of boats.’

  ‘You didn’t care about that when you booked her passage from St Ives,’ Gerald said. ‘But actually, no, the only one going sailing is me. You will be staying here.’

  He waved the pistol. Bane prepared himself to jump and bring the little worm down.

  The pistol steadied on Mary once more and Bane unclenched his fists. He did not want to give advanced notice of his intentions.

  ‘Miss Wilding,’ Gerald said, ‘would you be so good as to take the lantern from your fiancé?’ His voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Bane handed it over, glad to have two free hands, but he didn’t like it that it made Mary an easier target. She looked as pale as a ghost in the lamplight and her eyes, her pretty blue eyes, were large and frightened. He wanted to tell her not to worry, that he would think of something, but he could only give her an encouraging stare.

  ‘See those chains beside your feet, Bane?’ Gerald continued. ‘The one with the manacles attached.’

  Coldness bored into Bane’s gut as he looked at the manacles. ‘I see them.’

  ‘Kneel and fasten one to your wrist.’

  ‘No,’ Mary said, her face full of horror. She’d guessed, like Bane had, the purpose of those chains. ‘This is absolute nonsense. Gerald. You cannot do this. Don’t you realise murder is a hanging offence?’

  Gerald tittered. ‘What a preachy schoolmarm you are. Just like my tutor, until I found a way to be rid of him.’ He grinned. And the evil in that smiling angelic face made a shiver run down Bane’s back. More than oddness resided in his cousin, he realised.

  ‘Mary is right,’ Bane said. ‘You can’t get away with this. And when the crime is discovered they will think it was Jeffrey.’

  Gerald frowned. ‘Why would they think it was him? Not that they will think it was murder. I have it all planned. They will just think you fell in the sea and drowned. You should have drowned anyway,’ he said, flashing a look of hatred Bane’s way. ‘For years everyone thought the woman and child pulled from the sea the day your mother ran off was you.’

  Bane wondered if he should threaten him with Templeton’s expected arrival, but he had the feeling he needed to keep that card close for the moment. ‘Any suspicious death of a peer comes under scrutiny and Jeffrey is the only one who benefits by my death.’

  ‘Put your hand in that manacle. Now. Or I will shoot Miss Wilding.’

  ‘And how will Jeffrey explain a bullet wound to the authorities?’

  Gerald frowned. The pistol wavered. Then his face cleared. ‘I’ll tell them you shot her to get the money. And when I tried to protect her, you fell in the sea.’

  Bane cursed. The lad might not be right in the head, but he had a chillingly cunning mind.

  ‘Do as I say. Now. Or she dies.’ He lined up the pistol on Mary’s chest. Mary was looking at Bane in mute horror, expecting him to do something. Anything he could do right now would get her killed.

  He did not want to put his wrist in that manacle, to willingly chain himself to a wall and leave himself helpless. He felt sick at the thought. But there was no other option, if he was to keep Gerald from firing his weapon. Gritting his teeth, he knelt on the cold hard rock and closed the iron around his wrist.

  It was tight, but it wasn’t yet locked.

  Gerald grinned as if he’d read his thoughts. He held up the key. ‘Catch it. If you drop it, I will shoot her in the head.’

  Cursing inwardly, Bane caught the key and turned it in the lock. His insides rebelled at the sound.

  ‘You can throw it back,’ Gerald said. ‘Be careful, I wouldn’t like Miss Wilding to suffer for your poor aim.’

  ‘Let her go, Gerald,’ Bane said. ‘She is a pawn in all of this.’

  ‘She is a witness.’

  Surreptitiously, Bane tugged on the chain. It seemed solidly attached, but that didn’t mean one good hard tug wouldn’t pull it free. ‘She would probably just as soon marry Jeffrey as me. She was only doing it because I forced her.’

  Gerald glanced at her.

  Bane noticed she’d shifted, moved away from the wall and... Oh God, she still had the damned poker hidden in her skirts. If she tried that, he’d shoot her for certain.

  ‘You know, Gerald,’ he drawled, ‘if you kill her, the money will be tied up in Chancery for years. Why do you think I didn’t do it? Jeffrey won’t thank you for it.’

  ‘What?’ The boy faced him. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘If she dies before she marries, the money goes to the Crown.’

  ‘No. You are wrong.’

  ‘I can assure you I know what I am talking about. Why else would I offer for her?’

  The pain on Mary’s face clawed at his chest, because she believed him. And it wasn’t far off the truth. He would never have given marrying her a thought if it not for the money. He hadn’t wanted to marry anyone. He only wanted justice for his mother.

  ‘It’s a trick,’ Gerald said, glaring at him. ‘Put your other hand in the manacle.’

  ‘It is no trick.’

  ‘Do it,’ Gerald yelled, his voice rising.

  The boy was getting anxious. Too anxious. Bane did not want that weapon going off by mistake and injuring Mary. His stomach lurched as he used his chained hand to close the manacle around his other wrist.

  Gerald bent and locked it.

  Bane lashed out with his foot at the gun as the key turned. He missed. But he managed to knock Gerald’s arm, destroying his aim.

  ‘Run,’ he yelled.

  Damn the woman, she wasn’t listening. In awe and horror, he watched as she swung the poker. It hit Gerald’s wrist. The gun flew out of his hand and skittered across the ledge. Bane willed it to fall into the sea. Dear God, the sea... While they had been bickering, the tide had been coming in. The boat was already afloat.

  Gerald howled with pain and rage. He grabbed for Mary, who dodged him.

  ‘Run, Mary,’ Bane shouted, yanking on the chains, the iron biting into his wrists. ‘Run. Save yourself.’

  An agonised look crossed her face, then she turned and fled.

  Gerald nursed his wrist for a moment, then picked up the pistol. He turned on Bane. ‘I’ll get her. And I’ll make her marry Jeffrey. And it will be a proper Beresford who inherits the title. Not a bastard. My grandfather never wanted you as his heir.’

  ‘I already inherited,’ Bane said conversationally, judging the distance between them, trying to get under the lad’s skin, to get him closer. A couple of
feet and he’d have him. ‘There will never be another Beresford heir.’

  Gerald swung at Bane with the pistol and, chained as he was, he had no way to avoid the blow other than by turning his shoulder.

  Pain exploded in a bright white light and his world went dark.

  * * *

  His head not only ached, but it felt like it was stuffed with wool. His ears were filled with the sound of rushing water. Was he cupshot? He opened his eyes. To blackness. And the smell of the sea. And the sound of waves. Water washed over him. Cold. Bringing him wide awake. He coughed and spat out the salt in his mouth. His mind cleared. Realisation colder than the air around him.

  He’d allowed that little worm Gerald to chain him up. He shuddered as he realised he was helpless.

  Fighting the insidious sensation of fear in his gut, he yanked on the chains. They’d looked rusty and old, but, no matter how hard he pulled, they didn’t give.

  Another wave rushed in and he fought to stay upright on his knees. This time when the sea receded, the water lapped around his legs. The tide was coming in fast. Fifteen minutes. That was all he had left of his life. Unless he could break the damn chains.

  The thought of Gerald hurting Matry pierced his heart to the point of anguish. He had to get to her. Make sure she was all right. Feverishly he tore at the chains holding him fast. Pain gnawed at his flesh, but he barely felt it. He took a deep breath, tensed every muscle in his body and pulled with all of his strength.

  Pain was his only reward. He roared his anger and it echoed back at him. He sagged against the rocks, to recover his strength. To try again.

  Sick horror filled his gut. Mary. He’d failed her, just as he’d failed his mother.

  For days he’d tried to ignore his growing attraction. To keep himself aloof from emotions, as he had taught himself to do. After watching his mother die slowly of her injuries, because of him, he had known he could never again expose himself to the pain of losing someone else. Overcome by guilt, he had sworn he would never allow himself the privilege of another’s love. He didn’t deserve love.

  He still didn’t. But Mary, with her quick humour and courage, had made him want more than vindication for his mother. She’d made him want her, when he had known all along that he shouldn’t. And now he’d failed her, too.

  If only he could know she’d escaped. If he knew that for certain, he wouldn’t care about the sea encroaching higher with every cold wave.

  Because he loved her more than he loved his own life.

  He loved her.

  The thought filled him with despair. He’d carelessly put her in terrible danger. Again he yanked on the chains.

  A glowing figure in white floated towards him. The seawater had affected his brain, because what he was seeing was the White Lady. There was no mistaking the feminine figure outlined beneath the filmy robe and her long hair floating behind her.

  His heart pounded wildly. Was this the signal that he was about to die?

  ‘Bane,’ she called out.

  Not a ghost. But, oh damn, he wished it was. ‘Mary,’ he pleaded desperately. ‘I told you to leave. Go before he finds you.’

  ‘I—I hit him over the head with the poker,’ she said, crouching down. ‘I—I think I killed him.’ Her voice wavered badly. ‘I have his pistol.’

  Relief washed through him. Dear God, never had he met such a courageous woman or one so frighteningly resourceful. ‘Do you think you can shoot at the pin holding me fast to this wall without killing me?’

  She chuckled. ‘Probably not. But I have something better.’ She put down the lantern and reached for his hands. ‘I have the key.’

  The next wave was coming. He could hear it rushing into the cavern. He held his hands steady while she fumbled with the lock. ‘Whatever you do, don’t drop it.’

  ‘I’ll try not to,’ she said, her voice grim.

  The first shackle fell away. But he could see the wave rolling towards him in the light from the lantern. ‘Get back,’ he said, hating the idea of her moving away from him, but terrified that the next wave might carry her off.

  Instead of doing as he said, she continued jiggling the key in the lock. And then it was open. He leaped to his feet and picked up her and the lantern and ran from the onrushing wave.

  ‘Oh,’ she said when he put her down. ‘That was...remarkable.’

  Cold and shivering, he leaned against the wall of the cave. ‘Where is he?’

  She took the lantern from his numb fingers. ‘I hid in the muniment room and tripped him with the poker as he ran by. Then I hit him over the head and pushed him inside. I barred the door with the poker. Just in case.’ She winced. ‘But there was blood on his face.’

  A very clever woman, his Mary. His? His heart stilled. His mouth dried. He would be lucky if she agreed to speak to him again after the way he had endangered her life. And he wouldn’t blame her at all.

  He put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Let us make sure he is no danger to us or anyone else, then find some dry clothes and a warm fire.’

  She nodded, but her eyes were huge, her face pale and her expression fearful. He cursed the day he was born for causing such a look on her face.

  * * *

  Gerald was screaming invective when they reached that part of the tunnel. He’d managed to get the door open a fraction, but he barely seemed rational and was tossing papers and boxes around as if they were live things he was trying to murder.

  Bane hurried Mary past and got her back to his chamber. He rang for his man and then sent him for her maid and a bath.

  ‘I can’t bathe in here,’ she cried.

  ‘You are not going back to a room that has a secret entrance,’ he said. ‘You can rest easy, I won’t disturb you. There are many things I need to take care of before morning. But not until I am sure you are well protected.’

  There was a strange look on her face. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but he didn’t have the right. He had taken far too many liberties already.

  A sleepy-looking Betsy arrived, followed by two footmen with a tin bath and another two with buckets of water.

  Bane skewered the maid with a look. ‘Take care of your mistress. She has been through a great deal this night and deserves every consideration.’

  Betsy’s mouth gaped. She dropped a curtsy and hurried through the door. Bane turned and left before he was tempted to remain, to help Mary bathe and see her safe to bed.

  By letting his attraction for her overcome rational thought, he’d cause her a great deal of harm. She could have died.

  And it would have been his fault.

  The very idea almost sent him to his knees.

  More guilt on his shoulders, heavier even than the death of his mother. Only this time he had a chance to atone.

  * * *

  It was almost mid-afternoon by the time Bane was able to seek out Mary. She’d slept until well past noon, he’d been told, and she was now in the drawing room.

  Unable to resist looking his fill unnoticed, he paused outside the open door. She was sitting quietly gazing out the window, her hands folded in her lap, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

  So beautiful. An island of calm in a frenetic world. Only he knew the passion residing beneath the quiet exterior. Only he knew the wildly seductive woman below the unruffled surface.

  Guilt assailed him. No true gentleman would have taken advantage of her innocence the way he had. He’d forced her into making a decision before he had all the facts. He’d wanted to believe she was up to some trick with his grandfather. He’d wanted to believe seduction was fair play, because he wanted her in his bed when in his heart he’d known better.

  He was lowest kind of cur.

  And when she found out the truth, how he had put her life in danger for his own selfish ends, he wasn’t sure of her forgiveness. Nor did he deserve it.

  He cleared his throat.

  She jumped. Then flushed pink.

  ‘My lord.’ Only a tall, elegant woman lik
e her could carry off that regal incline of her head.

  ‘Miss Wilding.’ He bowed.

  Her eyes widened. A wary expression crossed her face. She smiled coolly. ‘You have arranged everything to your satisfaction?’

  ‘Yes. Gerald and his mother have been escorted by the doctor to York. She convinced me to allow Gerald to live out his days in an asylum there. Apparently this is not his first episode. His grandfather always put it down to an excess of sensibility. His mother suspected it was more, but didn’t want to believe it.’

  ‘I feel sorry for her. He...he won’t be badly treated, I hope.’

  He’d been ready to give him a quick end such was his anger at the danger inflicted on her. ‘If that is your wish.’

  She turned her face away. ‘I hardly think my wishes are important.’

  ‘He tried to kill you.’ This time he could not keep his anger from surfacing.

  ‘And you,’ she said softly.

  He waved a careless hand. ‘If you can be magnanimous, then so can I.’

  ‘And Jeffrey?’

  ‘Like Mrs Hampton, he always knew Gerald was highly strung. He treated him with kid gloves and jollied him along. It never occurred to him that Gerald would act on his grandfather’s continual complaints.’

  ‘You believe him innocent, then?’

  ‘I do. His horror and abject apology for not seeing what was going on were most convincing. You see, Jeffrey has money troubles. He was hoping to turn me up sweet for a large sum of money. The will made it all very difficult, as he had said to his cousin. He feels guilt for adding fuel to the fires in his cousin’s head, but he would have stopped him if he had realised what he was doing.’

  ‘So it is all settled.’

  ‘Yes.’

  He couldn’t help looking at her, at the turn of her neck, at the faint pink blush on her cheeks, the bright sky-blue of her eyes. Because this might be the very last time he got to see her. She’d saved his life, while he’d done nothing but put hers at risk. Every time he thought about it his gut tightened and his blood turned to ice.