The Dangerous Lord Darrington. Sarah Mallory

Guy reached the bottom stair the man became aware of his presence and swung round towards him. He subjected Guy to a searching scrutiny before giving a little bow.

      ‘You must be Lord Darrington,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Allow me to present myself. Miles Radworth, at your service.’

      Ah, thought Guy. The fiancé. That might explain the underlying reserve.

      ‘Kepwith has been telling me of the accident,’ continued Mr Radworth. ‘I trust your friend has sustained no serious injury?’

      ‘A few cracked ribs and a broken leg, but nothing more, we hope. We are awaiting the doctor now.’

      ‘Excellent, excellent. Let us hope he has good news for you. You will be wanting to get your friend back to his own house, I don’t doubt.’

      Guy met Radworth’s smile with one equally bland.

      ‘All in good time,’ he responded. ‘Lady Arabella has been most hospitable. We are very comfortable here.’

      ‘Ah. I’m glad to hear it,’ came the insincere reply.

      A rustle of skirts made both men look towards the door.

      ‘Miles! I did not expect you here today.’

      Beth Forrester came in, pausing to remove her straw bonnet, and at that moment the sun shone in through the high window in the gable wall, bathing her in a golden glow. Guy could not but appreciate the effect: her red curls flamed about her head, accentuating the whiteness of her skin and the deep, liquid depths of her brown eyes. With the grey redingote hanging open from her shoulders and her white skirts billowing as she moved, Guy was suddenly reminded of an oil painting he had seen once, by one of the old Italian masters: an angel descending to the earth. As if to confirm his impression the glinting sun created a halo around her flaming head as she tossed aside her bonnet and held out her hands to Miles Radworth.

      ‘I had not planned to come,’ he said, lifting her fingers to his lips, ‘but when word reached me that there had been an accident—’

      ‘But not to me.’ She smiled up at him, her fingers squeezing his briefly before she disengaged herself and moved away. ‘You have met Lord Darrington?’

      ‘We introduced ourselves,’ murmured Guy. ‘Was your search successful, ma’am? Did you find the leaves you required?’

      ‘Yes, two full baskets! I gave them to Sophie to take to the still room rather than trail them through the house.’

      ‘Comfrey leaves, was it not?’ he asked. ‘To make a compress for your lame horse?’

      She shot a quick look at him.

      ‘Why, yes, comfrey has many uses. We shall dry some, of course. The weather is turning now and the leaves are dying back, so this was our last opportunity to gather them.’ She turned to Miles Radworth again. ‘So you rode over to assure yourself that all was well here? That was kind.’

      He bowed. ‘I was hoping you might invite me to stay for dinner, even though Lady Arabella might look a little askance at my informal dress.’

      Guy wondered if he imagined the heartbeat’s hesitation before her reply.

      ‘But of course, Miles, that would be delightful. You know us too well to stand on ceremony, so you will not be offended when I say that I shall be obliged to leave you to entertain yourself for a while. I am expecting Dr Compton here at any moment to attend Mr Davies.’

      ‘I have no wish to add to your burdens,’ Radworth replied quickly. ‘Perhaps there is something I can do, read the newspaper to Lady Arabella, for example. You know you may trust me to do that.’

      She smiled at him. ‘Yes, of course I do, Miles, but Sophie has offered to read to Grandmama, so there really is nothing for you to do.’

      ‘You insist upon treating me as a guest,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Come November …’

      ‘Come November everything will be different,’ she responded quietly. ‘For today, however, perhaps you could show the earl the library, Miles? You are almost as familiar with the rare books and artefacts in there as I am.’

      ‘Thank you, but I had planned to accompany Mrs Forrester and Dr Compton to the sickroom,’ put in Guy, mildly irritated by the thought that others should organise his time.

      ‘Is that quite necessary?’

      Radworth’s question was posed lightly, but Guy found his hackles rising.

      ‘Perhaps not, but perfectly understandable,’ Beth interposed smoothly. ‘I have no doubt Lord Darrington is anxious for his friend. In fact, we will go upstairs now, my lord, if you wish, and make sure all is in readiness. Doctor Compton is no stranger here and will make his own way up when he arrives. So, Miles, I pray you will make yourself comfortable in the library and I will join you again as soon as I can.’

      Thus dismissed, Radworth nodded and walked away. Neither Guy nor Beth moved until the library door had closed behind him.

      ‘As a matter of fact, I have just come down from Davies’s room,’ said Guy. ‘He was looking tired so I promised he would not be disturbed again until the doctor’s arrival.’

      She raised her brows at him. ‘But you did not think to say so before I sent Miles away?’

      ‘I did not think Radworth desired more of my company.’

      ‘He is anxious that you should not impose upon me.’

      ‘You are very quick to defend him.’

      Her chin went up a little. ‘Of course. We are betrothed. Besides, he has been very kind to us. A true friend.’

      Guy met her eyes, trying to interpret her look, halfdefensive, half-defiant.

      ‘And you will marry him in November.’

      ‘Yes.’

      Even to Beth’s own ears the word sounded stark and cold. It should not be, for she was very happy about her forthcoming marriage, was she not? It was merely that she could not look forward to that happy day until she had resolved the problem that weighed upon her spirits.

      ‘Then Davies and I must be very much in your way,’ said the earl.

      She wanted to disclaim, but honesty tied her tongue and it was with relief that she heard the doctor’s hearty voice at the entrance. Moments later Dr Compton was striding across the hall.

      ‘Good day to ‘ee, Mrs Forrester, and to you, my lord. Glad to see you haven’t been laid up after your soaking yesterday! And how is my patient, awake by now, I hope! Passed a reasonable night, did he? Good, good. Well, then, take me to him!’

      * * *

      Beth soon realised that she was not needed in the sickroom. Mr Davies’s valet was eager to attend his master, so she left him taking instruction from the doctor, with the earl standing by, ready to lend a hand if necessary. Doctor Compton cheerfully dismissed Beth, promising to find her and give her his report before he left.

      She went downstairs, but after staring at the library door for a few moments she decided against joining Miles and instead made her way down to the lower floor.

      Beth emerged a short time later, shaking the dust from her skirts before hurrying back to the great hall where she spotted the butler coming out of the library.

      ‘Kepwith, is Dr Compton still upstairs?’

      ‘Yes, madam.’ He gave a little cough. ‘I am to fetch refreshments for Mr Radworth, madam. He informs me he is staying to dinner.’

      ‘That is correct. Perhaps you would see to it that another cover is laid, if you please.’

      The butler bowed, hesitated, then said anxiously, ‘Is that wise, ma’am? In the circumstances …’ His meaning was not lost upon Beth.

      ‘Perhaps