The Dangerous Lord Darrington (29 page)

BOOK: The Dangerous Lord Darrington
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Sophie was inclined to be practical. ‘Let us not worry about that now,’ she said. ‘Can we go to Thirsk today, to see Simon?’

‘I would like to see him,’ admitted Beth. ‘I want to assure myself that he is well.’

Sophie’s face crumpled. ‘He was getting so much better, Beth—the fever had gone and he was beginning to eat well—’ She broke off and buried her face in her hands. Beth immediately left her seat and went to put her arms around her sister.

‘Sophie, do not distress yourself, this is only a set-back. As soon as—’ She broke off as the sound of voices filtered through the door. Someone was approaching. She looked at Guy. ‘Mrs Cordonnier?’

He put down his napkin. ‘I don’t think so.’

He rose as the door opened and a cheerful voice said, ‘Don’t bother to announce me, I can find my way.’

‘Edwin!’

Sophie’s cry of delight took Beth by surprise and she stared as her sister raced across the room and threw herself at Mr Davies. He was leaning heavily on his stick, but quickly put his free arm about her.

‘There, there, my love, don’t cry all over me. When you didn’t visit me as promised yesterday I thought I should come and find out what was amiss.’ He looked over her dark honey-coloured curls, his laughing eyes resting on Guy.

‘So you are here, Darrington! Julia was as mad as fire with you—not for abandoning her at Thirsk, but for not telling her what the devil you were about! And Mrs Forrester, returned from Ripon at last.’

‘Good morning, Davey.’

Beth could only admire Guy’s cool tone as he greeted his friend. She was still too shocked at the sight of her sister with her arms wrapped around the young man.

‘Beth never went to R-Ripon,’ said Sophie, wiping her eyes. ‘Come and sit down, Edwin, and we will explain everything.’

‘Sophie!’ Beth shot her sister a warning look. ‘I do not think—’

‘It is all right, my dear.’ Guy interrupted her. ‘I would trust Davey with my life. And judging by his reception, I think he has plans to become a member of your family before too long.’

‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact,’ murmured Mr Davies, reddening. ‘We were waiting for you to return, ma’am.’

‘You see, I did not even confide in Edwin,’ cried Sophie, guiding Davey to the table and sitting down beside him. ‘I have been most discreet, so how that woman knew about Simon…’

‘She has a nose for scandal,’ said Guy bitterly. ‘But I can see that Davey is looking confused. Beth, my love, perhaps you would send for more coffee, then I think we should take him into our confidence.’

‘So Clarice is back in England!’ Edwin Davies shook his head, his boyish countenance very grim. It had taken some time to explain everything and Davey’s habitual laughter had long since died away. ‘I always knew she would be trouble for you, Guy.’

‘Not so much for me,’ returned Guy, glancing across the table at Beth. ‘If I had disowned the woman when she first stole those letters—if I had told the truth—’

‘You were not to know.’ Beth tried to smile bravely.

‘Oh, yes, he was,’ Davey ground out. ‘He’s too damn—dashed loyal! He could have spoken out ten years ago, instead of giving up a brilliant career, and all for such a worthless woman.’

‘Let us not dwell on the past,’ said Beth quickly, sensing Guy’s own hurt and regret. ‘Instead let us decide what is to be done now.’

Before anyone could speak there was a scratching on the door and Kepwith appeared.

‘Mrs Cordonnier to see you, ma’am.’

‘Oho,’ murmured Guy, his eyes bright. ‘So we move on!’

Davey stood up. ‘Let me at her, I’ll give her a piece of my mind—’

‘No, it is best that she sees only Beth and myself,’ replied Guy. ‘You stay here and look after Sophie.’ He could not have said anything more likely to make Davey resume his seat. He turned to Beth. ‘Well, madam, shall we see what she has to say?’

She led the way to the great hall, resisting the temptation to reach out and grasp Guy’s hand. They found Clarice waiting for them, dressed as before in her riding habit, but this time she had not discarded her gloves and was gently tapping her riding crop against her skirts.

‘I heard that you came looking for me last night.’ Her smile challenged them. ‘You did not think I would be so foolish as to let you find me before I had put that letter in a safe place?’

‘Was it you who informed upon my brother?’ Beth demanded coldly.

‘I sent word to the authorities that a desperate fugitive was hidden here, yes. Your demeanour in London led me to believe you had…secrets, Mrs Forrester, so I came north. It was an easy matter then to befriend your sister and to see beyond her pathetic attempts at concealment.’

‘I do not believe Sophie gave so much away.’

She shrugged. ‘Believe what you will, it is not important. Your brother will be taken back to Portsmouth to stand trial. Without the deposition I do not see much hope for him.’

‘What have you done with it?’ Beth demanded, but Clarice merely smiled at her.

‘You need the letter, do you not, to secure your brother’s release? Let me assure you that it is safe, although I shall not tell you where it is.’

‘We will make you tell us,’ declared Beth. ‘We will take you now to Thirsk, to the magistrate—’

‘And I shall deny everything. I shall say you have abducted me. An act of jealousy, perhaps, because I was once Darrington’s fiancée.’

Guy said coldly, ‘How much?’

Clarice narrowed her eyes, as if considering the question. ‘Ten thousand pounds.’

Beth stared, dismay chilling her bones.

‘I will see you in hell first.’

Clarice merely smiled even more at Guy’s bitter retort. ‘Will you? Then how will you save Wakeford now Madame de Beaune is gone?’

Beth’s head went up. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I have my sources.’ She added sharply, ‘And it is no good frowning so blackly, Darrington. I know you would like to murder me, but I have made provision for my safety. If I do not return to my friends by noon, they have instructions to burn your precious letter.’

‘No!’ Beth looked at Guy. He was still frowning, his eyes hard as granite. She turned back to Clarice. ‘I do not have ten thousand pounds.’

‘No,’ came the soft reply. ‘But Darrington does. He would not even feel its loss.’

‘And I will not advance you one penny.’

‘What, not even for your lover’s sake?’ retorted Clarice. ‘Her brother will hang without that letter.’

‘I assure you he will not.’

‘He cheated the hangman two years ago. There will be no mob to save him this time. He will be taken south and tried. You may be able to argue that the murder was only manslaughter, but there’s the necklace.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Life is considered cheap by the English courts, Darrington, but robbery—they take that very seriously. He will surely hang for it.’

Guy shook his head. ‘And I repeat, Wakeford will not hang.’

Beth fought to keep her face impassive. The thought of Simon locked in a prison cell was torture enough—the thought of a trial and its outcome was unbearable.

‘It seems we have reached an impasse,’ said Clarice, shrugging. ‘I will leave you to discuss it. I advise you to act soon. Once Wakeford is taken south for trial, my price will go up. There is no need to call your butler to show me out, I know my way. Do not attempt to follow me,’ she warned, walking to the door. ‘I do not intend that you should know where I am.’

‘But if we should wish to contact you—’ said Beth.

‘I will not negotiate with you, Mrs Forrester. I want ten thousand pounds to part with that letter, nothing less. If you want to pay me, you may send a message to the Swan. I shall look out for it.’

‘You will be disappointed,’ Guy ground out, his eyes cold and hard. ‘I have no intention of giving in to you.’

‘No?’ Her contemptuous glance rested on Beth. ‘Perhaps you are not quite so enamoured of your hero now, Mrs Forrester.’

With that Clarice turned and swept out of the house.

A heavy silence fell over the hall.

‘How did she know that Madame was going to America?’ Beth asked at last.

‘I am not sure that is what she meant, but it is clear she knows more about this than she could have gleaned from you and your sister.’

‘Ten thousand pounds.’ Beth shook her head. ‘We would have to sell everything to raise such a sum and that will take time.’

‘You must not even think of paying the woman.’ He reached out and took her hands. ‘Beth, I must ask you to trust me.’

‘But Simon—’

‘He is safe for the moment.’

She pulled away from him. ‘But he is in
gaol
! You must see that I will do everything in my power to save him.’

‘But that should not include paying Clarice her blood-money.’

‘I think your hatred of the woman blinds you to what needs to be done,’ said Beth bitterly.

‘Not at all. Believe me, Beth, I do not intend to let any harm come to your brother.’

Beth closed her eyes. It was difficult to think clearly. ‘What do you plan to do?’

He shook his head at her. ‘I must keep my own counsel for now. Your brother will be safe in custody. I will go to Thirsk today to see the magistrate. He shall have whatever funds are required for his comfort.’

‘No.’ Beth tore herself out of his grasp and turned away. ‘You do not need to trouble yourself.
I
will go to Thirsk.’

‘The devil you will! ‘

She put up her hands. It was as if she was in some nightmare and could not think properly. All she knew was that somehow she had expected Guy to help and he had failed her. Her head, her very being, was swamped with an irrational disappointment. She said furiously, ‘Simon is my brother, I will decide the best way to help him! I do not need your help with this.’ She drew herself up. ‘I do not need your help with
anything
!’

She glared at him, challenging him to disagree. Instead he gave a stiff little bow.

‘Very well, madam. If that is your final word, then perhaps I should leave.’

‘Yes, go!’ she flashed back. ‘I can manage very well without you!’

Beth was obliged to take a turn about the garden before she could join the others. Her argument with Guy had overset her quite as much as Clarice’s demands. She half hoped he would follow her, for as her anger receded she realised she was being unfair and would have welcomed the chance to apologise. However, he was nowhere in sight when she made her way back into the house, where she found Sophie and Davey, still sitting at the breakfast table.

‘Well?’

She looked at Sophie’s eager face and had to fight back her tears. ‘She w-wants ten thousand pounds to return the letter.’

‘Ten—’ Sophie’s hands flew to her cheeks. ‘Heavens, we do not have such a sum.’

Davey looked at her. ‘Darrington?’

Beth shook her head. ‘He…he is adamant we should not pay.’

‘And he has the right of it,’ agreed Davey. ‘You have no way of knowing if she will give you the letter.’

‘I would give ten times that much to save Simon!’ cried Sophie, an angry flush on her cheeks.

‘And so would I, my love,’ said Davey soothingly, ‘if we could be sure it would save him. I have no doubt Darrington has a plan. Where is he?’

Beth shrugged and said, trying to sound indifferent, ‘I am sure I don’t know.’

‘Well, we need to know what he intends to do,’ declared Davey. ‘Ring the bell, Sophie, we’ll have him fetched here now.’

But when Kepwith came in a few minutes later it was with the news that Lord Darrington had left Malpass.

‘The devil he has!’ exclaimed Davey. ‘Where has he gone, did he say?’

‘He left word that he would be staying in Fentonby,’ replied Kepwith, his countenance wooden.

‘Fentonby!’ Davey ran a hand through his fair hair. ‘What in heaven’s name is he playing at now?’

Beth did not answer. She could not speak at all, but remained rooted to the spot, staring at her butler.

He is gone.

The words rang in her head. She thought back over their last moments together. Surely he knew better than to believe what she said when she was in a temper? Unless he was looking for an excuse to leave: perhaps he no longer wanted her. Beth did not hide from the fact—she had read enough of Dangerous Lord Darrington’s exploits to know it would not be the first time he had loved and left a woman. She thought bitterly that he was living up to his reputation.

‘What do we do now?’ asked Sophie, her lip trembling.

Beth squared her shoulders. ‘We go to Thirsk, to see Sir John Marton.’

‘I shall come with you,’ declared Davey.

Beth was about to refuse his escort, but then she saw the look that passed between Davey and her sister. A pain as sharp as a knife twisted in her heart; she had thought Guy loved her that much, but now she found it difficult to believe.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘But first, Sophie, we should go and see Grandmama. We will not tell her about the missing letter, only that we are going to visit Simon.’

As the Wakeford travelling carriage lumbered towards Thirsk, Beth could not help comparing it with the earl’s swift, elegant chariot, in which she had travelled so many miles with him. The comparison only reinforced the difference in their stations. A tiny, insidious voice whispered that Guy could have loaned her the ten thousand pounds to pay Clarice, if he had wished to do so. Instead he had left her. She blinked rapidly, keeping her eyes fixed upon the passing landscape.

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