‘Ah, it is your sweet nature that makes you so compliant,’ said Miles, raising her hand to his lips. ‘I do not like the idea of you being here on your own.’
‘But I am not on my own,’ she protested. ‘And there is no denying that the earl is very good with Grandmama. He takes her for a gentle airing in the grounds on sunny days and entertains her royally each evening. And even Sophie is proving useful, reading to Mr Davies and keeping him amused.’
‘I wish you would let me stay, at least while the earl is in the house.’
‘No, Miles, especially not while Lord Darrington is here!’
‘You are thinking of my behaviour the other day,’ he said ruefully. ‘Will you not accept my apology for that?’
‘I have already done so, but since you declare it was jealousy that made you lose your head, I think it best if you spend as little time as possible here at the moment.’ She smiled at him. ‘Now, my dear, if you want to please me, take me for a stroll about the gardens, for I have been cooped up in the house all day!’
They spent a pleasant hour walking through the grounds of the Priory and Miles exerted himself so much to please that Beth found her anxieties about her forthcoming marriage fading. They were making their way back to the house when they encountered Lord Darrington coming from the stables.
‘Ah.’ Miles cast a rueful glance at Beth.
She squeezed his arm. ‘I have told you there is no need to be jealous of the earl, Miles. Pray be polite to him, for my sake.’
‘I shall be more than polite,’ murmured Miles. ‘You will see that I can be the perfect gentleman! Good day to you, my lord. You have been riding, I see. Have you been far?’
The earl stopped and waited for them to come up to him.
‘Around the park, then as far as Fentonby. I wanted to gallop the fidgets from my horse—he has been eating his head off in the stables and it was time I made him work. You have a fine estate here, Mrs Forrester. The land is in good heart.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied, pleased with this tribute. ‘I work closely with my tenants to maintain it. My father impressed upon me the value of a well-run manor.’
‘Ah, but the true value of Malpass is the Priory,’ remarked Miles. ‘True, the building is but a small part of its glorious past, but it is filled with the most exquisite antiquities. A perfect gem. Priceless.’
Beth laughed.
‘Is that how you see it? Much as I love it, I confess sometimes in winter I long for a modern building with well-fitting windows and snug, draught-free rooms! What is your preference, Lord Darrington?’
‘Wylderbeck, my own house, was rebuilt by my grandfather less than fifty years ago and has even been improved since then.’ He added apologetically, ‘No evidence of antiquity there, I’m afraid.’
Beth dropped back a little, allowing the gentlemen to converse uninterrupted. A little knot of anxiety was twisting itself inside her. She had told Miles he had no need to be jealous of the earl, but now she realised that was not quite true. When Beth had been a girl she had dreamed of meeting someone like Darrington, a tall, handsome lord who would sweep her off her feet, but it had never happened. Instead she had married Joseph Forrester, a good, stolid man some years her senior.
It had not been an unhappy marriage, but Beth could not pretend that she had ever felt a soaring, blazing passion that made her want to give up the world for love—in fact, she was inclined to believe it did not exist beyond the covers of the novels in the lending library. With a sigh she tore her eyes away from the two men in front of her. She was engaged to Miles Radworth: he was kind, loyal—witness his patience in courting her for over a year!—and would prevent the loneliness she was very much afraid would be her lot once her grandmother was gone and Sophie had married, which she surely would. It had been her free choice to accept Miles Radworth’s offer of marriage and she would not complain.
To reward Miles for his generous behaviour towards the earl, Beth invited him to stay for dinner, but he refused.
‘I have an early start tomorrow. I am off to Staffordshire, to Granby Hall, for the sale.’
‘Is that Prudham’s place?’ asked the earl. ‘I heard he was done up.’
‘Aye. He is having to sell everything to pay his debts. Thought I would take a look. I believe he has a fine collection of ceramics.’
‘Miles collects rare and beautiful objects,’ explained Beth, smiling.
‘Which is why I am marrying you, my love.’ He kissed her fingers.
Beth flushed and pulled her hand free. For some reason she felt uncomfortable at his display of affection in front of the earl. Then, afraid Miles might be offended, she stepped closer and slipped her hand through his arm.
‘Let me take you both in to Lady Arabella. Sophie is reading to her in the morning room and I am sure she would like to drink a glass of canary with you…’
Beth had seen a juggler once at the May fair and the image of the man came to her mind several times over the next few days, remembering his intent gaze as he concentrated upon keeping several clubs flying, never letting them drop or collide. She felt very much as if she was juggling the pieces of her life, looking after Grandmama, discouraging Sophie from spending all her time in the sickroom with Mr Davies, entertaining the earl while making sure Miles so did not feel too neglected. On top of all this were her nocturnal visits to the cellars from where she would emerge shortly before dawn and fall into bed to sleep for a few hours before the whole round would start again.
Such was her exhaustion that she fell asleep over her book when she was reading to Lady Arabella.
‘My dear child, what is the matter with you?’ demanded her grandmother, banging her stick upon the floor. ‘I have a good mind to summon Dr Compton to take a look at you.’
‘I am perfectly well, Grandmama,’ Beth assured her. ‘I am just a little tired, that is all.’
‘Tired!’ cried Lady Arabella. ‘You are looking positively hagged, girl! Of course your pale skin makes the dark circles look worse than they are, but even so—! Ring the bell, Beth, and I will tell Kepwith to send for the doctor.’
‘No, no there is no need for that, Grandmama. He will be calling the day after tomorrow to see Mr Davies, so I will have a word with him then, if you wish. I am sure Mr Davies is well enough to return to his own home now, and that of course will mean a lot less work for me. I am sure I shall be able to rest more once the gentlemen are gone from the Priory.’
‘I do not see how Mr Davies and Lord Darrington have made so much work for you,’ reasoned her grandmother, frowning. ‘Davies has his own man to look after him and the earl is perfectly amiable.’
‘He may be amiable, ma’am, but he is none the less a guest, and I would be failing in my duty if I did not look after him.’
Her grandmother stared at her through narrowed eyes.
‘Has he tried to make love to you? No need to colour up so, child, since you and Sophie read to me from the Intelligencer, you know the earl’s reputation as well as I.’
‘And we have always agreed that most of it is salacious gossip and should be ignored,’ retorted Beth, aware that her cheeks were glowing. ‘And if he did try to flirt with me I am quite capable of giving him a set-down.’
‘Hmmph.’ Lady Arabella snorted. ‘In my day entertaining a charming gentleman would not have been considered such an onerous task!’
Beth held her peace. She would have found it easier to entertain the earl if he had not been quite so charming. He tried hard to put her at her ease, but all the time she was guarding her tongue against any unwary utterance.
Beth had hoped after dinner that evening she might slip away to her room for an hour, leaving Sophie and her grandmother to entertain the earl until supper, but her plans were foiled when Lord Darrington expressed a wish to see the ruins of the Priory.
‘Davey and I had been visiting Mount Grace on the day of the accident,’ he explained. ‘I believe the remains of Malpass Priory extend beyond the walled garden
.’
‘You will find traces of the old abbey walls throughout the grounds, if you know where to look,’ said Lady Arabella.
‘We used to play amongst them when we were younger,’ added Sophie. ‘We made up the most outrageous stories of knights and dragons.’
The earl glanced out of the window. ‘It is a very fine evening. Perhaps Mrs Forrester would be my guide.’ He smiled. ‘I will undertake to protect her from lurking dragons.’
Despite the tug of attraction she felt at his smile Beth was about to decline, but a moment’s reflection convinced her that if she did not accompany the earl he would go exploring on his own, and heaven knew what he might find.
‘Very well, my lord, if Grandmama will spare me.’
‘Aye, take her away,’ declared Lady Arabella, waving her hand at them. ‘Mayhap the evening air will put a little colour in her cheeks!’
Thus on a mild September evening Beth found herself wandering through the Priory grounds with Lord Darrington. She had buttoned her pelisse against the cool breeze, but had decided against bringing her parasol for there was little strength in the setting sun.
‘The walled garden is in what we believe to have been the cloister,’ she told him as they made their way between the flowerbeds. ‘The remains of the abbey itself are in the wilderness beyond the yew hedge.’
‘In those woods?’ The Earl pointed to a small iron gate set into the old cloister wall. ‘I had looked through there, but the gate is locked.’
Beth reached into her pocket. ‘And I have the key!’ She pulled out a large iron key and fitted it into the lock. It turned, giving a satisfying clunk and with a little push the gate swung open on its well-oiled hinges.
‘Is it necessary to keep it locked?’ asked the earl, following her through the gateway.
‘Perhaps not now—when we were very young Grandmama insisted upon it, because the wilderness is bounded on one side by the river and it is very overgrown, with hidden shafts leading down to underground chambers. Our mother died when we were very young, you see, and Grandmama was responsible for us.’
‘Yet your sister said you played here.’
She chuckled. ‘Once we found out where the key was kept we would come here whenever we could.’ As they emerged from the belt of trees she spread her hands to take in the view. ‘What child would not think this a fairytale playground?’
Ahead of them lay the ruined walls of the old abbey. The outline of the nave could clearly be seen and the west wall with its arched window still stretched towards the sky.
‘Most of the stone was taken to build the extension to the present house. What was not required was left very much as you see it now. Shall we go in?’
She moved towards what was left of the south transept, picking her way across the jumble of stones. She took him around the ruins, pointing out the area of the choir and the presbytery, and a beautifully formed little doorway that would once have led to the side chapel, but now looked on to nothing more than a grassy square.
‘When we were children this would be our castle,’ she told him, her head full of fond memories. ‘Or the deck of a great galleon, or even a cave in the depths of an enchanted forest. We had such adventures here!’ She sighed. ‘What a pity it is that we have to grow up.’
‘Do you still hanker, then, for adventure?’
She tilted her head on one side, considering the matter. ‘Everything was so easy then—there were happy endings for us all.’
‘And now?’
She knew the earl was standing very close behind her. She could feel his presence. Her heart began to thud almost painfully against her ribs. Slowly she turned. He was so close she had to raise her head to look at his face. She tried to speak lightly, as much to herself as to the earl.
‘Now it is time to put away such childish thoughts and do one’s duty.’
He reached out and took hold of the single red ringlet hanging down to her shoulder. ‘Doing one’s duty sounds very dull work,’ he murmured, winding the curl about his finger.
Beth was finding it difficult to breathe. He was so close she could see the fine stitching on his coat, smell the tang of cologne that hung about him and, although she kept her eyes on his face, she was all the time aware of his fingers playing with her hair.
‘I—um—have grown too old for adventures.’
He smiled suddenly and she was taken aback by the force of his charm. He said softly, ‘My brother Nick would not agree.’
‘Then your brother is a dangerous man.’ She kept her eyes locked on his face, willing herself to keep still, willing him not to look away. The wrong word, the wrong move and this brittle, beautiful moment would shatter. Her whole body was tingling. Just standing still, looking up at this man, she felt more alive than she had ever done before. She wanted it to go on for ever.
In that same instant she knew she must end it now. She knew his reputation with women and she was determined he would not seduce her. It would endanger not only her own happiness, but everything she held dear. Looking away from him was like tearing her flesh.
‘We should go back.’ Her throat was dry, the words a mere croak. Regret, keen as a knife, sliced through her as his hand dropped and the contact was broken.
‘Is there no more to see? Can one reach any of the underground chambers?’
Beth forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying. ‘Good heavens, no,’ she said. ‘They have all collapsed.’
‘Not the ones under the house, surely?’
‘Oh, no, but they are used only for storage now. There is nothing of interest there.’ She shivered. ‘It is growing cold. Let us return to the house.’
‘Very well.’
In silence they walked away from the ruins and back through the trees, where a slight breeze set the leaves sighing overhead and one or two fell slowly to the ground, reminding Beth that summer was over.
By the time they reached the cloister garden again a cold chill had settled over her heart. Something had changed. She had changed. Lord Darrington held out his arm and Beth took it, her fingers resting lightly on his sleeve, wondering how it was possible to feel so very different in such a short space of time.
No words had been exchanged, the earl had not kissed her—they had not even touched, yet Beth knew that in that brief, sunlit moment she had been unfaithful to Miles Radworth.
Guy noticed that Beth said very little at supper. He frowned. When had he started to think of her as Beth and not Mrs Forrester?
Guy hoped he had not given himself away when they were looking at the ruins of the church. He had watched, entranced, as she flew around the old building, drawing his attention to the exquisite carving on an old pillar top, pointing out a gargoyle still clinging to the west wall. She had been like a sprite, a will o’ the wisp, darting here, there and everywhere, so that when at last she stood still he caught her red-gold ringlet to keep her there. She had grown very quiet then. Did she know how much he wanted to kiss her? More than that. He wanted to ravish her, to possess her completely. But it would not do: she had shown no signs of wanting to flirt with him. She might succumb to him in the magic of the moment, but afterwards, the tears, the recriminations—she was betrothed to Radworth, as good as married. True, Guy’s name had been linked with married women, but they had always pursued him. It was not his habit to come between a man and his wife.
For the first time he was glad of the early hours kept at the Priory, and after looking in on Davey he retired to his chamber and threw himself down upon his bed, his hands clasped behind his head. Damnation, she had got under his skin! How long had it been since any woman had done that—nine years, ten? And it had to be one as unobtainable as that first, disastrous love affair. The guttering of his bedside candle told him it was getting late and he began to undress. His ears caught the sounds of stealthy movement outside his room. He was no nearer to solving the mystery at the Priory, but suddenly he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was get away. Davey was recovering well now.
When the doctor called the day after tomorrow he would make damned sure he was declared fit enough to travel and they would leave Malpass Priory and its mysteries behind them.
Chapter Seven
Beth did not know whether to be most relieved or sorry when she saw Lord Darrington riding out early the next morning. Kepwith told her that the earl had breakfasted alone at a most unseasonal hour and had left instructions that they were not to wait dinner for him.
She busied herself with household duties and surprised her sister by raising no objection when Sophie suggested that Mr Davies could be carried downstairs to the drawing room so that he could listen to her play on the pianoforte. Lady Arabella offered to act as chaperon and Beth was free to throw herself into a frenzy of cleaning, but no matter how busy she was she could not keep her mind from wandering back to the golden evening in the ruins of the Priory church. When Miles Radworth called to see her late in the afternoon she made a great effort to greet him affectionately.
‘How was your trip to Staffordshire?’
‘I bought a few pieces of Meissen, but nothing very much.’ He raised his head. ‘Do I hear music?’
‘Yes. Sophie is entertaining Mr Davies in the drawing room. Would you like to join them?’
‘No, I would much rather have you to myself. I want to talk to you about your guest.’
‘Mr Davies?’
‘No, the earl.’
‘Oh?’ Beth raised her brows.
Miles took her arm and led her towards the library. ‘You know I have never been happy about you having him stay when there is no man here to protect you.’
‘I am well aware of the earl’s reputation, Miles, and I am quite capable of repulsing his advances. Not that he has made any, which is a sad reflection upon my charms—or lack of them!—do you not think?’
He frowned as he shut the library door upon them. ‘This is no time for levity, Elizabeth. If Darrington has made no move upon you, it is because he knows he would have me to answer to. I would have you under no illusion about your guest.’
The Dangerous Lord Darrington Page 7
