banner banner banner
The Dangerous Lord Darrington
The Dangerous Lord Darrington
Оценить:
Рейтинг: 0

Полная версия:

The Dangerous Lord Darrington

скачать книгу бесплатно


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 not,’ she said quietly, ‘but it cannot be helped.’

‘But if he should become restless, madam, and cry out again—’

She put up her hand to stop him. ‘Tilly will make sure that does not happen again. There is no reason our guests should find anything amiss, Kepwith, as long as we keep our heads.’ She looked up to see the doctor and Lord Darrington coming down the stairs. ‘Very good, Kepwith, that will be all. Well, Doctor, how is Mr Davies?’

‘Progressing, Mrs Forrester, progressing, but I would as lief he was kept very still today. Lord Darrington suggested carrying him in his own travelling chariot, loaded with cushions, but even so I would not wish to move him yet. We shall see how he goes on after another night or so. I shall return again tomorrow, madam. Until then Davies’s man is on hand now and he seems a competent fellow. He will look after his master.’

He began to move towards the door.

‘But what should I give him for fever?’

Doctor Compton stopped. ‘Put your mind at rest, madam, the fever has passed now.’

‘Of course, but if he should wake up …’

‘A few sips of water, perhaps, or have some lemonade on hand, if you wish.’

‘Nothing stronger?’ Beth persisted. ‘He may be in pain and I have used up the laudanum you left us. I’m afraid I spilled some of it on the floor this morning.’

The doctor smiled at her. ‘Why this sudden anxiety, Mrs Forrester? This is most unlike you.’

She spread her hands. ‘I am concerned that Mr Davies should be comfortable.’

‘Well, make him up a saline draught, if you wish, it will do no harm. And if he is in pain—which I do not at all anticipate as long as he is kept quiet—I have more laudanum in my saddlebag, I’ll give it to your butler. Now, I must get on. Come along then, Kepwith, if you please! I have two more patients to call upon today.’

Beth watched the butler escort him to the door, then turned to find the earl waiting for her in the great hall.

‘You may be easy, Mrs Forrester. Peters is a good man and will know how to look after his master, I am sure.’

‘Yes, of course. I m-merely wanted to ensure Mr Davies does not have a disturbed night.’ She added lightly, ‘Poor Mr Radworth will think I have forgotten him! Shall we go into the library, my lord?’

He declined gracefully. ‘I wish to check all is well with my groom.’

‘As you wish, my lord. You may recall we dine early at Malpass. Shall I send a man to help you dress in, say, an hour?’

He shook his head. ‘Peters can do all I require—you look incredulous, Mrs Forrester. I told you I am not at all high in the instep.’

She was disarmed by his smile and as she gazed into his cool grey eyes she found herself thinking that it was no wonder he broke so many hearts. The click of heels on the marble floor recalled her; a footman was making his way to the library, a tray bearing a decanter and glasses balanced on one hand.

‘Oh, heavens. Miles!’ Her hands flew to her mouth and with a quick glance of apology towards the earl she hurried off.

Chapter Five

When Beth went upstairs to change for dinner she decided not to wear the grey silk laid out in readiness, but asked her maid to fetch her new lavender silk gown with the white muslin petticoat.

‘Ah, dressing up for Lord Darrington, are we?’ giggled Tilly.

Beth frowned at her. ‘Not at all. Mr Radworth is staying for dinner.’

‘So you won’t be wanting to hide your charms beneath a white fichu?’

‘That is enough of your insolence!’ Beth grabbed the fine muslin scarf and arranged it becomingly to fill the low neckline of her gown. She said, trying to sound severe, ‘I do not know why I put up with you, Tilly.’

Her maid merely laughed at her. ‘Because you know I love you and Sophie and Lady Arabella very dearly. And because no one else can dress your hair quite so well. So do sit down now, Miss Beth, and let me brush your curls for you.’

Beth had submitted to her maid’s ministrations and was rewarded by the look of approbation that she received from Miles Radworth as she entered the drawing room. She was disappointed to receive no such acknowledgement from Lord Darrington, who was conversing with Sophie and Lady Arabella on the far side of the room. He glanced across when she came in, but made no attempt to approach. As Miles took her hand and murmured any number of flowery compliments, Beth watched the earl from the corner of her eye, noting that he gave all his attention to her grandmother. She was piqued; she did not need Miles to tell her that the lavender silk set off her copper-coloured curls. One glance in the mirror had informed her that she presented a very striking figure, and while she would have been offended if the earl had been so impolite as to ogle her, she would have liked to see some sign of appreciation from him.

‘ … what do you say to that, my love?’

She dragged her attention back to Miles, who was obviously wanting an answer to his question. She summoned up her most charming smile. ‘I beg your pardon, Miles, I do not understand you?’

‘I was merely suggesting, in my roundabout way, that since you have done nothing yet about your bride clothes, I should take you to York. I am sure Lady Arabella can manage perfectly well without you for a few days.’

‘Ah, Miles, how thoughtful, but there really is no need. I intend to go and stay with my good friend Maria Crowther in Ripon and I will be able to buy everything I need there.’

She excused herself and moved towards Lady Arabella. The earl rose as she approached.

‘Mrs Forrester.’ He bowed and held the chair for her. ‘Perhaps you would like to sit next to Lady Arabella?’

Beth inclined her head and sat down, but she could not relax while the earl remained standing behind her. It took great strength of will not to turn her head to see if his hands were still resting on the back of her chair. She forced herself to say something.

‘Grandmama, I hope Sophie has taken care of you this afternoon?’

‘Of course, as she always does,’ replied Lady Arabella. ‘Such a good girl, and she reads so beautifully, not a hint of impatience when I am sure she would rather be elsewhere.’

‘Not at all, Grandmama!’ Sophie cried out at this and the old lady chuckled and patted her cheek.

‘Perhaps, my lady, you might allow me to read the newspaper to you tomorrow,’ offered the earl, moving around to stand beside Miles Radworth. ‘It would be a little something I can do to repay your hospitality.’

‘Aye, and I have no doubt you would do it admirably with that deep, smooth voice of yours,’ agreed the lady.

‘Oh, but I am very happy to read to you, Grandmama,’ said Sophie quickly.

‘So, too, am I,’ declared Beth. ‘We do not need to trouble the earl with such a task.’

‘What, would you deny me the company of such a handsome gentleman?’ Lady Arabella’s eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘I do believe they want to keep you for themselves, Darrington.’

The earl gave a little bow. ‘I am flattered, my lady.’

The inconsequential thought entered Beth’s mind that his dark hair, cut short to collar length and with its tawny highlights glowing in the candlelight, was much more attractive than Miles’s curled and dully powdered wig. She scolded herself silently. She had invited Miles to take dinner with them, so it was unjust to make any comparison when he had not been able to change for dinner. She must not contrast his velvet jacket with the earl’s dark coat that seemed moulded to his form, nor should she compare topboots and riding breeches with satin knee-breeches and stockings that showed Lord Darrington’s athletic limbs to great advantage. When it came to ornaments, she thought the honours equal, for apart from a large signet ring and the diamond that flashed discreetly from the folds of his snowy cravat, Lord Darrington had only his quizzing glass, hanging about his neck on a black ribbon. Miles, however, wore an emerald pin in his neckcloth and was sporting a few fobs and seals at his waistband, as well as his ornate watch. No, she would not compare them, nor would she dwell on the fact that with his splendid physique, the earl looked very like the heroes that had once filled her dreams. Her marriage to Joseph Forrester had taught her to put aside such romantic notions. It had been a struggle to curb her impetuous nature, but Joseph had soon taught her that a husband did not want a wife constantly hanging on his arm or displaying affection. She did not think her life with Miles would be any different, for her feelings for him were well-regulated, unlike the disturbing turmoil Lord Darrington roused in her.

Looking up, she met his amused glance and her face flamed. She hoped he could not read her thoughts!

A glance at Miles showed that he was not too happy with the conversation and she said quickly, ‘Grandmama, you are very wicked to tease us so. We must not forget that when Dr Compton calls tomorrow he may declare Mr Davies well enough to return to Highridge and we will be obliged to say goodbye to our guests.’

‘And very sorry I shall be to see them go,’ declared Lady Arabella. ‘The Priory has been far too quiet since Simon died. We have become positively reclusive.’

‘You know I would willingly move in, my lady,’ offered Miles, ‘if it would comfort you to have a man in residence.’

Lady Arabella stared at him for a long moment, her face quite impassive. She said at last, ‘Thank you, Mr Radworth, but no one can replace my grandson.’

The silence hung uneasily about the room. Beth rose in a whisper of silk.

‘Shall we go in to dinner?’

Beth did not enjoy her meal. Lady Arabella presided over the table with her usual grace, but although the two gentlemen were perfectly polite to each other, Beth was uncomfortably aware of a tension in the air. Even Sophie cast uneasy glances at them. When she considered the matter dispassionately she did not think that any blame could attach to Lord Darrington, who was seated next to Lady Arabella and responded to her questions and remarks with perfect ease and good humour. Miles, however, was above being pleased. He found fault with every dish and, although Lady Arabella did not appear to notice his ill humour, his barbed remarks made even Sophie lapse into uncharacteristic silence. He was also drinking heavily, calling for his glass to be refilled with such regularity that Kepwith was obliged to fetch up another bottle.

The covers had been removed and the dishes of sweetmeats placed upon the table when matters came to a head. Miles was reaching for a dish of sugared almonds when his cuff caught the edge of his wineglass and sent the contents spilling across the table. The earl quickly threw his napkin on the pool of wine as Miles jumped up, cursing under his breath.

‘No harm done,’ said Beth, placing her cloth over the earl’s. ‘We have contained it. Sophie, if you give me your napkin, too, I think that will do the trick.’

‘I beg your pardon, that was dashed clumsy of me,’ muttered Miles, standing back and watching proceedings. ‘That last bottle was bad.’

‘Very possibly,’ said Beth in a tight voice.

A footman brought in more cloths to finish wiping the table.

‘There, all is well again,’ remarked Lady Arabella. ‘Pray sit down again, Mr Radworth.’

‘Aye, I will, but first I am going down to the cellars to find a decent bottle!’ He grabbed the butler’s arm. ‘Give me the key.’

‘Sir!’ The butler’s exclamation was a mixture of outrage and alarm.

Sophie gasped. Beth put a hand on her shoulder, aware that the earl was watching them.

‘There is no need for that, Miles.’ She kept her voice calm. ‘Kepwith shall bring another bottle if you wish for one.’

‘Aye, I do wish it, but I’ll have none of his choosing. It’s my belief he is fobbing you off with poor stuff and keeping the best for himself.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Beth sharply. ‘I do not keep disloyal staff. Neither do I allow my guests to venture into the servants’ domain.’

Her hauteur had its effect. Miles glared at her, but she held his gaze steadily and at last he resumed his seat, saying with a little laugh, ‘You are quite right, m’dear. Plenty of time to discuss how the household is run once we are married, eh? Very well, Kepwith, you may go and find another bottle of claret, and be quick about it!’

Lady Arabella led the ladies away to the drawing room soon after, and Beth was not surprised that the gentlemen did not tarry over their port. Miles seemed to realise that he had gone too far and tried to approach Beth and apologise, but she would have none of it, turning a shoulder to him, only relenting when he announced he was leaving shortly after they had drunk tea together and humbly begged her to accompany him to the door.

‘My dear, I can only apologise for my outburst,’ he said, unclipping his watch and putting it safely in his waistcoat pocket.

She shrugged. ‘The effects of inferior wine, I collect.’

‘Not only that, Elizabeth. I fear I was jealous of seeing Darrington so at ease here.’

She blinked. ‘You are jealous of the earl? You have no need, I assure you. I have no interest in him at all!’

‘Ah, but what if he is interested in you?’ said Miles. ‘I observed how often he watched you this evening.’

‘No, I am sure you are mistaken,’ she cried, her colour heightened.

‘I think not. I fear he may wish to fix his interest with you.’

She raised her brows. ‘How can he, when I am already betrothed to you?’

‘Betrothed, yes, but how I wish we were wed!’ He pulled Beth into his arms. ‘I would have married you the moment you came out of mourning—’

‘I know, but we must give Grandmama time to grow accustomed. You have been very forbearing,’ she said softly. ‘Pray, Miles, be patient for a little longer.’

‘Why must we wait?’ His arms tightened. ‘You are no innocent schoolgirl, Beth—can you not tell how much I long for you? You need have no worry that I am making you false promises to get you into my bed. The contract is signed, ‘tis only the priest’s blessing we are lacking—’

‘Good heavens, Miles, would you have the shades of this old place rise up against us?’ she asked him jokingly. She placed her hands against his chest and held him off when he would have kissed her. ‘But, to be serious, Miles, the church vows are very important to me. I would have nothing spoil our wedding.’

She gazed at him steadily and was relieved when the hot, ardent look died from his eyes and he smiled at her.

‘Very well, my love, you know I can deny you nothing.’

He pressed a last kiss upon her fingers and took his leave. Thoughtfully Beth made her way back to the drawing room.

‘Has Mr Radworth gone now? I cannot say I am sorry,’ declared Lady Arabella. ‘How oddly he behaved tonight. I do hope he is not sickening.’

‘I am sure he is not, Grandmama. I think it is as he says, a poor wine.’

‘More like the quantity,’ put in Sophie bluntly. ‘You did not feel any ill effects, did you, my lord?’

Beth frowned at her sister. She could not be happy about the way Grandmama and Sophie had taken to Lord Darrington. It would be better for everyone’s peace of mind when he and his friend had gone.

Guy noticed the change as soon as Radworth had left the Priory. Lady Arabella’s outward demeanour did not alter, but he sensed she was a little more at ease. Sophie, too, became more talkative. Only Beth remained aloof, but Guy suspected that might be because she was embarrassed at her fiancé’s behaviour.

He was still pondering on the events of the evening when he made his way up to Davey’s room after supper.

He found his friend propped up in bed and thumbing idly through one of the newspapers that littered the bed. He tossed it aside as Guy came in and greeted him with a cry of relief.

‘Darrington, thank heaven you are come! I thought I should expire with boredom!’

Guy grinned at him. ‘You are looking much better, old friend, and sound much more like your old self. How are you?’

‘Everything still hurts like the very devil, but only if I move.’ Davey beckoned him forwards. ‘Come and sit down here and tell me all that is going on downstairs. Have you kissed any of the ladies yet?’

Guy laughed. ‘Only your broken ribs prevent me from punching you for that, Davey! Of course I haven’t! Lady Arabella is a matriarch, born to command, and her two granddaughters are both completely ineligible, one being a schoolgirl, the other a widow.’

‘A very beautiful widow, if Peters is to be believed.’