The Dangerous Lord Darrington. Sarah Mallory

high neck looked almost Quakerish. What he had first thought was a pattern around her skirts at a second glance was seen to be dust. He frowned.

      ‘Where have you been, Mrs Forrester?’

      ‘That,’ she said haughtily, ‘is none of your business. Now, if you will please give me the lamp, I will show you back to your room.’

      ‘Surely I should be escorting you.’

      Her eyes flashed scornfully, but she said sweetly, ‘But I wish to assure myself that you find your way safely back to your room, my lord.’

      ‘Are you afraid I might discover your horrid secret?’

      Her eyes flew to his face and he was startled to see the stark terror in their depths again. He stepped closer.

      ‘My dear Mrs Forrester, pray do not look so alarmed. I was jesting.’

      He noted the pale cheeks, the way the tip of her tongue ran nervously across her full bottom lip. Only a few inches separated them. He had to steel himself not to reach out and pull her to him. Her eyes were locked on his. They were cocooned in the lamplight and for a long moment neither spoke. Guy did not even breathe.

      Oh, heavens, what is happening to me? The thought screamed in Beth’s head while her eyes remained fixed on the earl. His blue-grey eyes, hard as granite, held her transfixed. Even in his stockinged feet he towered over her, like a bird of prey hovering over its victim. Yet she was not frightened. Instead she felt an irrational desire to close the gap between them, to cling to the earl and allow him to take the cares of the world from her shoulders.

      No! With enormous effort Beth tore her eyes away. The impression that they were imprisoned together in a bubble of lamplight was merely an illusion and she must break free of it. She must stay strong and keep her own council.

      She swallowed, cleared her throat and said huskily, ‘Thank you, but I am not alarmed.’ She added in a stronger voice, ‘Neither am I in the mood for funning.’

      She reached for the lamp, her hand trembling as her fingers brushed the earl’s. She held the lamp aloft and led the way back through the darkened house. The earl walked beside her, his long, lazy stride easily keeping up. Neither spoke until they reached Guy’s bedchamber, where a faint shaft of light spilled out from the open door.

      ‘It is never wise to leave your bedside candles burning unattended, Lord Darrington.’

      ‘I hope I shall not have cause to do so again.’

      ‘You had no cause to do so tonight.’

      In the doorway he turned to face her and they stood, irresolute, as if neither of them wished to bring the moment to an end. But Beth knew that was mere foolishness. Lord Darrington had received only the barest civility from her while he had been at the Priory and must be longing to return to more hospitable surroundings. For her part, the sooner the earl took himself and his friend back to Highridge the better.

      Beth put up her chin and, bidding the earl a chilly goodnight, she turned and hurried back to her own room.

       Chapter Six

      ‘Elizabeth, my love, you are looking haggard this morning. Far too pale.’

      Lady Arabella’s greeting as Beth took her place at the breakfast table was direct and to the point. Beth ignored the earl sitting opposite her. It really was of no consequence to her that he was looking as if he had spent an undisturbed night with an army of servants to shave and dress him.

      ‘I did not sleep well, Grandmama.’

      ‘I think I know the reason for that.’

      Lord Darrington’s remark brought Beth’s eyes to his face, her heart plummeting, then soaring to her throat, almost choking her as she waited fearfully for him to continue. He held her eyes for a long moment.

      ‘It was the wind,’ he said blandly. ‘It was rattling the window for most of the night.’

      The suffocating fear was replaced by anger. He was teasing her! He met her furious glare with a look of pure innocence.

      ‘Would that be it, Mrs Forrester?’

      Relieved laughter trembled in her throat at his impudence. ‘Yes, my lord,’ she said unsteadily. ‘I think you must be right.’

      ‘If the blustery wind kept you awake, I am sorry for it, my lord,’ declared Lady Arabella. ‘I cannot think it would affect Beth, however. She has lived here long enough to grow accustomed to it.’

      ‘Thankfully it does not appear to have disturbed everyone,’ said Beth quickly. ‘I saw Peters on my way downstairs and he told me Mr Davies passed a very peaceful night.’ She threw a quick look towards the earl. ‘I am hopeful Dr Compton will declare him fit to travel today.’

      Sophie came in at that moment, hurrying towards the table, words of apology tumbling from her lips.

      ‘Grandmama, I beg your pardon for being late, I have been helping Mr Davies with his breakfast—’

      Beth almost spilled her coffee at this artless speech. ‘Sophie! There was no need for that, especially now that Peters is here.’

      ‘I know, Beth, but I heard the most dreadful clatter as I passed his room and the door was open so I peeped in, just to ask how Mr Davies went on, and I could see that his valet was having difficulty because his master had thrown his spoon across the room.’ She twinkled. ‘I fear poor Mr Davies is quite uncomfortable, you see. He told me his wrist hurt far too much for him to feed himself.’

      ‘Couldn’t hurt that much if he could hurl his spoon at his valet,’ remarked the earl.

      ‘I fear the pain from his injuries had made him short-tempered,’ said Sophie innocently. ‘So I offered to help him with his porridge. He was very grateful, I assure you.’

      ‘I am sure he was,’ murmured Beth. She suspected that few gentlemen would object to being attended by a pretty young lady and she had to admit that Sophie was looking particularly fetching this morning in her yellow muslin gown and with her soft brown hair curling around an open, smiling face.

      ‘I have no objection to Sophie visiting the sickroom,’ pronounced Lady Arabella. ‘It is not as though Mr Davies is infectious and I am sure the sight of her will raise his spirits. But I must insist that she does not do so unaccompanied.’

      ‘No, indeed, Grandmama,’ Sophie assured her earnestly. ‘Peters was in attendance all the time. And I should like to help—perhaps I may read to Mr Davies later …’

      ‘Let us wait to see what Dr Compton says when he calls this afternoon,’ put in Beth quickly.

      ‘Well, I do not see that he will object,’ returned Sophie. ‘And since Grandmama approves, I shall go back to sit with Mr Davies when I have broken my fast. Peters is going to let me know when he has made his master presentable, for Mr Davies insists upon being shaved before I visit him again.’

      Sophie applied herself to her breakfast, unaware of the effect of her words upon her sister.

      ‘It does appear that Davies is vastly improved this morning,’ murmured the earl as he helped himself to another slice of cold beef.

      Beth did not reply. She hoped he was improved enough to leave the Priory. She had cares enough without adding a blossoming love affair between her sister and the invalid.

      She was just emerging from the wine cellar when Kepwith announced that Dr Compton had arrived.

      ‘The earl was waiting for him on the drive, madam,’ the butler informed her. ‘He has taken him up to the sickroom.’

      ‘Has he indeed?’ declared Beth, angrily shaking the dust from her skirts. ‘And who gave him the right to do that?’

      Kepwith bent a fatherly eye upon her. ‘Now, Miss Elizabeth, you know the doctor never stands