The Dangerous Lord Darrington. Sarah Mallory

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СКАЧАТЬ not blown out. He turned. The cold had passed, as if a door somewhere in the house had been opened briefly.

      Guy put down the candlestick. There was sufficient moonlight pouring in through the windows to light his way. He padded along the corridor in his stockinged feet, the only noise he made came from a creaking board. When he reached the end wall he hesitated. Mrs Forrester had led him this way to her own room, so he knew the passage led away into the Tudor wing of the house with the family’s apartments. He had no business here, but he was curious to know who might be about in the house in the middle of the night. Treading carefully, he made his way through moonlit passageways, past a series of doors in the polished-oak panelling until he rounded a corner and saw the dark rails of a narrow staircase before him. That would lead up to the servants’ quarters and down to the kitchens. His ears caught the soft sound of a footstep and at the same time a faint glow appeared in the stairwell as someone began to ascend from the basement. Quickly Guy drew back out of sight. It was most likely a servant, who could continue up the staircase to the bedchambers above. He strained to listen, heard the lightest footfall, the slight creak of a board, barely had time to note the approaching glow before a figure came around the corner and stopped with a small shriek of terror to find him blocking the way. Guy had the advantage of knowing someone was approaching, but he was surprised to find himself gazing into the terrified face of Beth Forrester.

      ‘Do not be afraid.’ Guy reached out and took the lamp from her shaking hand, holding it up so that she might recognise him. ‘I heard noises and thought I might be of assistance.’

      She was shaking so much that he put out his free hand and caught her arm, feeling her trembling beneath the thin sleeve. She had changed her silk evening gown for a more serviceable closed robe in some dark colour. Her hair, free of lace and feathers, hung in a thick braid over one shoulder, gleaming in the lamplight like a trail of fire.

      ‘I suppose I am allowed to wander where I will in my own house!’ she retorted in a fierce whisper, pulling her arm free.

      ‘Could you not ring for a servant?’

      She was regaining control. Guy noted that her large, dark eyes were no longer dilated with terror, although her look was still guarded.

      ‘It is not my habit to rouse my maid from her bed when I am perfectly capable of finding my way to the kitchen.’

      She’s hiding something, thought Guy. Was there a man, perhaps? An assignation with someone other than her fiancé? He thought not. He hoped not. She had roused his admiration with the calm way she had dealt with Davey’s injury and, despite her coolness towards himself, Guy had thought her honest and honourable.

      But he had been wrong about a woman before and it had cost him dear. He allowed his eyes to travel over her again. Would a woman go to meet her lover wearing such a homely gown? True, the soft wool clung to her figure, accentuating her tiny waist and the soft swell of her breasts, but its long sleeves and 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.

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