‘Then it is high time I did,’ retorted Lady Arabella. ‘Besides, this might be the last time I shall wear the Malpass diamonds. I have no doubt Miles Radworth will claim them for his own as soon as you are wed. No need to look so shocked,’ she added, smiling grimly at Beth’s startled face. ‘I am well aware that he has tied up the settlements to his advantage.’
‘Grandmama, the arrangements are perfectly usual for a marriage contract,’ said Beth gently.
‘Hmmph!’
Sophie reached out to touch the old lady’s arm. ‘Do you not like Miles, Grandmama?’
‘As a matter of fact I do not,’ came the blunt reply. ‘What’s that line from Shakespeare that always comes to mind when I see him? “He has a lean and hungry look.” Ah, Mr Davies, there you are. Well, now we are all ready, shall we go?’
The George was Fentonby’s largest coaching inn and the Assembly Rooms had been added some thirty years ago. They were generally proclaimed to rival anything in York or Bath. Beth had rarely visited them, despite the fact that Lady Arabella had been one of the chief subscribers when they were built. Many of the great families had moved away from the area and those that were left preferred the more genteel society of Thirsk, so the rooms had been left to the enjoyment of the wealthy tradesmen and farmers. However, news had spread through the town that Mrs Forrester would be attending to celebrate her betrothal and it was with a sinking heart that Beth observed the number of carriages drawn up at the entrance as they turned into the High Street.
‘The world and his wife are here!’
‘We expected that,’ said Sophie. ‘Mrs Robinson told me the news of your betrothal was all over the town.’
‘It is going to be a sad crush,’ stated Lady Arabella, ‘I suppose we must resign ourselves to it.’ She leaned forwards, peering through the glass. ‘Is that Sir John Marton and his wife? And I see Lord Embleton’s carriage. Well, at least there will be some of our acquaintances there.’
The carriage pulled up at the entrance to the Assembly Rooms and the ladies waited while Mr Davies alighted and turned back to hand them out. Since he still needed the support of his walking sick, Davey gave his free arm to Lady Arabella, leaving Beth and Sophie to follow behind. As Beth had suspected, the rooms were very crowded and their progress into the ballroom was slow. Lady Arabella’s appearance caused even more delay, since so many people wanted to talk to her. Beth was pleased by their attentions to her grandmother, not least because it meant that she could slip into the room in Lady Arabella’s shadow. The press of people and confusion immediately inside the door gave Beth the opportunity to study the assembled company. She spotted Miles on the far side of the room, but made no attempt to attract his attention, for her eyes were drawn to the tall figure of Lord Darrington, who had just come out of the card room. His plain dark coat was no different from many of the younger gentlemen present, but his upright stance and athletic figure commanded attention. His brown hair gleamed in the candlelight and she watched him surveying the crowd, idly swinging his quizzing glass between his long fingers. Davey had told her the earl intended to be present and she had resolved not to pay him the least heed, but she could not tear her eyes from him. At that moment he turned his head, as if aware of her eyes upon him. Quickly she looked away.
‘Mrs Forrester, are you ill?’ Davey’s voice was full of concern.
‘It is nothing, sir, really.’ But she realised with dismay that he had followed her glance.
‘Ah, I see. Madam—’
‘Please,’ she said quietly, ‘do not try to defend the earl! I will not listen to you.’
‘I cannot defend him,’ he replied. ‘I have no more idea than you what he is about, but I would beg you, ma’am, to believe he is not your enemy. Have faith in him.’
‘Impossible,’ she said bitterly.
Sophie came up to them. ‘Let us find seats,’ she suggested brightly. ‘Grandmama will want a chair, as will you, Edwin. Your leg is not yet healed enough for dancing.’
‘True, and very annoying…’ he grinned at her ‘…because I would have liked to stand up with you.’
They went off and Beth was left alone. She was aware of a moment of loneliness. Nonsense, of course, because she was well acquainted with most of those present and once Miles realised she had arrived he would keep her at his side for the rest of the night. She moved around the room, greeting one acquaintance, then another, her skin prickling because she knew the earl was watching her from the side of the room. It seemed that every time she raised her head he was at the edge of her vision. If he drew closer, she moved in the opposite direction. She saw him talking to Sir John Marton and judged it safe to return to her grandmother, but her progress was delayed as her acquaintance came up, eager to offer their congratulations, so that by the time she drew nearer to Lady Arabella Guy was there, laughing at something Davey was saying. Determined not to allow him to spoil her evening, she slipped away again. At every opportunity she smiled more widely and laughed more loudly, to show that she really did not care that he was present.
Miles came up. She schooled her features into a smile.
‘You are looking very grand,’ she greeted him, her eyes taking in his elegant powdered wig and dove-grey velvet coat. ‘I vow you look fine enough for a royal drawing room!’
‘But this is a very special occasion.’ He lifted his watch and glanced at it before bowing over her fingers. ‘I have been looking for you, my dear, but it was the worth the wait. You look…magnificent.’ She felt the blood rising to her cheeks under his warm gaze and wished she had covered the low neckline of her gown with a muslin buffon. She gave an uncertain laugh and pulled her fingers free.
‘Thank you. I was about to take a message to Grandmama. If you will excuse me…’
‘I will, reluctantly. But I shall expect you to dance with me later.’
‘Of course.’ She kept her smile while he kissed her fingers, then moved off in the direction of the benches where Lady Arabella was sitting with Sophie and Mr Davies. She had not gone far when she found herself facing a solid wall of black cloth that was the Earl of Darrington.
Chapter Twenty-One
A fleeting glance at Guy’s face showed her that he was looking very grim, the lines of strain accentuated around his eyes and mouth. She went to move past him, but his hand shot out and caught her arm. In the press of people no one noticed he was detaining her.
‘Why would you not see me? Davey says you did not even read my letter.’
‘I want nothing more to do with you.’
‘Nothing! After we travelled nearly the length of England together?’
‘I was grateful for your help, I told you as much,’ she replied, desperately trying to remain calm. ‘But you declined to help me any further. Our acquaintance is ended.’
‘The devil it is!’
His grip tightened and, with a growl, he pulled her towards a small alcove at the side of the room. A waiter with a tray of wineglasses stood between the decorated pillars that flanked the entrance, but a sharp word from the earl sent him scurrying away. There were no candles near the alcove and the shadows engulfed them, robbing everything of colour.
‘How dare you drag me here! You have nothing to say to me, my lord.’
Guy spun her round to face him. He said roughly, ‘Just because I would not pay Clarice Cordonnier her blood money you think I have abandoned you.’
‘What else is there to think?’
He was standing between her and the ballroom, blocking her escape. He said quietly, ‘Beth, believe me, I had my reasons for refusing to pay Clarice. Have you so little faith in me?’
‘Methinks I had too much faith in you!’ she flung at him. ‘Oh, I was a fool to allow myself to be beguiled by you. If you trusted me, you would have explained your reasons.’
‘I might throw the same accusation at you, madam,’ he ground out. ‘Without giving me a chance to explain myself, you set a date to marry Radworth. I thought you were going to cry off.’
She turned to him, her lip curling. ‘And why should I do that, my lord?’
‘Because you are going to marry me!’
‘When you leave my brother to rot in gaol? I think not.’
His head went up as if she had struck him. ‘Do I mean so little to you?’
‘Yes!’ she flashed. ‘I wish I had never met you! I w-wish you would take yourself off now and leave us in peace!’
‘And what about your brother?’
‘I do not need you—in fact, I will not allow you to help me!’
She glared up at him, her breast heaving. Even in the darkness she saw the spark of anger in his eyes. He stepped closer, towering over her, tall, dark and full of menace.
‘By heaven, I shall work for your brother’s release, madam, with or without your permission!’
‘And I say you shall not. Miles will help me to save Simon.’
‘Will he, though?’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Do you think Radworth will help anyone who might challenge your claim to Malpass?’
‘I—I don’t understand you.’
He said slowly, ‘I believe your brother is safer in Thirsk gaol. I fear he might meet with some…accident if he were free.’
Fear trickled down her spine. ‘You do not think that…that M-Miles—’ She shook her head. ‘No. No, I will not believe this, this slander against Miles. Not without proof.’
‘I have none, yet.’
‘And you will find none,’ she retorted furiously. ‘I believe you are jealous, my lord.’
‘Yes, I am, since he seems to have your unwavering devotion.’
She put up her head. ‘And why should he not? He has given me no cause to doubt him!’
‘But has he done anything to deserve it?’
‘Of course! And no doubt he would have done more, if I had gone to London with him instead of you!’
There was a pause, no greater than a heartbeat, then he said softly, ‘And would you have preferred his caresses to mine?’
The air around them, already heavy with anger, suddenly became charged with danger. She tried and failed to prevent herself from being flooded by memories of the passionate nights they had spent together. They were as one; even now her body responded to his dark presence, she had to force herself not to move closer, to merge into his shadow. The deep resonance of his voice wrapped around her like velvet. Every sense, every nerve screamed at her to give in, to throw herself into his arms.
‘Beth—’
Tell him, the voices in her head cried urgently. Tell him you cannot live without him.
‘Guy, I—’
‘So here you are, my dear.’
The mood was broken. Light flared as Miles walked in carrying a candelabra, which he placed on a torchère at the back of the alcove.
‘You have a propensity for being alone with Lord Darrington, my dear. That will have to stop when we are married, you know.’
Beth clasped her hands—she knew now what she must do. ‘Miles, I cannot marry you.’
His eyes moved to Guy, then back to her face. ‘But I am afraid you must, my dear.’
‘There is no must about it, Radworth,’ Guy said coldly.
Miles gave a thin smile. ‘Is that so?’
‘It is, Miles.’ Beth nodded. ‘I am very sorry, but I…I was mistaken. I cannot marry you.’
He shrugged. ‘Very well.’ Beth had been holding her breath and now she let it go, relieved that Miles was being so reasonable. His next words sent her thoughts careering back into turmoil. ‘Then I will have you and your family out of Malpass by the end of the month.’
She stared at him. ‘You cannot do that.’
‘Oh, but I can.’ His silky voice sent a shiver down her back. ‘The marriage settlements are all signed. You will remember the clause that if the marriage does not go ahead, the Priory and all its contents come to me. You cannot fight that, my dear. It is the law.’
Guy put a steadying arm about her. ‘Perhaps the law will take a different view when they learn the truth about you, Radworth,’ he said. ‘How you were prepared to sacrifice Simon Wakeford to get the Priory.’
Beth’s world had been righting itself, but now it began to tilt again. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, looking at both men.
‘Radworth came to Malpass determined to have it,’ said Guy. ‘He persuaded your father to leave everything to you, did he not?’
‘Pure fairy tale, Darrington,’ scoffed Miles. ‘It is true I let slip to old Wakeford that his son was drowned, but it was his idea to change his will.’
‘An idea put into his head by you.’ Guy glanced at Beth. ‘I believe your instinct not to tell him that Simon was alive was very wise, my dear. He is using you.’
‘I cannot believe he would do that,’ said Beth slowly. ‘To come all this way, and to remain in Fentonby for so long.’
‘You are right, my dear,’ Miles agreed. ‘The earl is air-dreaming. You know I am no fortune hunter. What would I want with the Priory when I have my own property in Somerset?’
Guy shrugged. ‘You are a collector, Radworth. You love antiquities and the Priory is full of them. Priceless, you called them. I believe Simon Wakeford described his home to you that night you dined together in Portsmouth and from that moment you coveted the house and its contents. Then when Wakeford was accused of murder you saw your chance.’
Miles spread his hands. ‘So that is the worst you know of me—that I covet the house and its contents.’
‘Not only that. I think you persuaded Clarice Cordonnier to inform the authorities that Simon was hiding at the Priory.’
‘No, he would not do that!’ Beth’s exclamation brought Miles’s cold glance flickering over her.
‘As you say, my dear. I have only met the woman once or twice.’
‘Enough to discuss with her Madame de Beaune’s deposition.’
There was a sudden stillness in the alcove. Beyond the pillars the dancing was continuing, but the music and laughter of the ballroom was a world away from the tension and menace that cloaked them.
‘Clarice was too well informed,’ Guy continued. ‘She knew of things not mentioned in that paper. The necklace, for example, and the fact that Madame de Beaune was dead.’
‘She told you that, did she?’ Miles shrugged. ‘She found the letter purely by chance, you know. The actions of an inquisitive mind. It wasn’t until she brought it back to me that I realised its significance. She was very ready to try to obtain money for it, but rest assured, my dear, I never intended that you should buy it back. However, if she could get a few thousand from Darrington, then I had no objection to that. But I made the mistake of discussing the matter with her. That was foolish of me.’
‘But how did you come by the information about Madame de Beaune?’ Beth demanded.
‘Because, my dear, I had people watching the ports, in case the French couple returned to England.’
‘But you knew I was already doing that,’ said Beth.
‘I think Radworth’s reasons for finding the de Beaunes were quite different to yours,’ murmured Guy. ‘Am I right, sir?’
‘I certainly did not want them to testify in Wakeford’s defence.’
‘So you ordered Madame de Beaune to be murdered.’
Beth gasped. Miles merely shrugged.
‘Believe that if you like. You will never prove it.’ His lip curled. ‘I did not know then that Beth had gone chasing off to London with you and that you had met with Madame.’
‘But I do not understand—why are you so eager that my brother should not be free?’
‘Because he might lay claim to his inheritance.’
‘And you were willing to commit murder.’
‘I will never admit to that.’
Beth looked at Guy. ‘We must tell Sir John, immediately.’
‘What will you tell him?’ demanded Miles with a sneer. ‘I will deny everything. And remember I am well respected in this area.
I have been a model tenant since I arrived in Fentonby and have gone out of my way to make myself agreeable. You are Wakeford’s sister, so of course you will tell any lies to get him released. And as for having Darrington as your witness, hah! A disgraced peer from a dubious family—his father was a wild-living man who ran through a fortune before he was thirty. The Darrington name was never very honoured, but then your friend here made an unfortunate alliance that cost him dear.’ His lip curled. ‘It seems he has a foolish propensity for succumbing to a pretty face.’
Guy lunged at Miles, but Beth threw herself in the way.
‘No!’ she cried. ‘Remember where we are! Do not add to the scandal!’
Miles was backed against the wall, breathing heavily. He pushed himself upright and straightened his coat.
‘You do right to tell him, my dear. Now I urge you to think twice before you cry off. You will lose everything.’
‘When the world learns of your perfidy—’
‘My perfidy!’ Miles laughed. ‘You have been careering around the country with Darrington—even staying in his house! What of your reputation, madam? Everyone will think I am a saint indeed not to cast you off! Besides,’ he added softly, ‘there is the deposition.’
Beth stiffened. ‘What about it?’
His hateful smile appeared. ‘I have it. If you can persuade your brother not to challenge my claim to the Priory, then I will make you a present of it on our wedding day.’
Beth put her hands to her mouth. Guy put his hand on her shoulder.
‘You will not marry him, Beth,’ he said grimly. ‘Whatever else may happen, you will not marry that villain.’
‘I will do anything to save Simon,’ she whispered.
‘Beth, listen to me—’ Guy broke off when there was a loud ‘ahem!’ and he looked around to find a footman hovering in the entrance.
‘Yes, what is it?’ barked Guy.
The servant approached and murmured into his ear. Guy turned back to her.
‘I must go—someone is waiting for me.’
‘But—’
‘I have no time to explain now.’ He gripped her hand. ‘But I will explain, you have my word. Trust me, Beth.’ He was gone. Out of the alcove and swallowed up by the crowd.
The Dangerous Lord Darrington Page 24
