Haunted by the Earl's Touch

by Ann Lethbridge

  She flopped over on her back and stared up at the canopy. He would never trust her. And she would never trust him. Because she knew what she’d heard. You stupid little fool. His words. Even if it wasn’t his voice. People sounded different under different emotions. It could have been him. Yet what could she say? Accuse him of trying to kill her now, when they seemed to have agreed to a truce? With their wedding in the offing there was no need for him to be rid of her. He’d have his title and his wealth.

  He leaned over her, turning her face towards him. ‘All right. Tell me.’

  She looked up into his eyes, at the frown, at the jaw already set in uncompromising lines, and knew that, having started down this path, she could not now back away. She had to say something. Come close to the truth, see his reaction.

  ‘I went exploring and got lost.’

  The frown deepened. ‘How could you get lost?’

  ‘I spoke to one of the boys, working further along one of the tunnels. Then I followed what I thought was candlelight.’

  His expression lightened. ‘And ended up outside?’

  She nodded. ‘I thought to go back to the entrance.’

  ‘On the road you were heading downhill. Away from the mine.’ He let go a deep sigh. ‘As I said. It’s over. Let us move forwards from here.’ He looked so disappointed she wanted to cry.

  ‘Someone pushed me down one of the old shafts,’ she blurted out.

  He sat bolt upright. ‘What?’

  Well, that certainly had his attention. She looked down at where his fist was bunching the sheets. ‘Someone shoved me from behind.’ Much as he had shoved her that day on the cliff, now she thought about it.

  ‘Are you telling me the truth?’

  She looked straight into his eyes, held his gaze steady with her own. ‘That is what happened. That’s why I was heading away from the mine.’ The fear from that day rose up and tightened her throat. ‘I was lucky. My bonnet strings tangled with the ladder. I was able to climb out.’

  ‘Your bonnet?’

  He sounded incredulous. He would sound that way if he was the one who had pushed her. ‘Too bad for you I didn’t die,’ she said. ‘It would have solved all your problems.’

  ‘Too bad indeed,’ he said drily. ‘You tell a wild story, Miss Wilding. I am surprised you aren’t blaming your disappearance on sightings of a ghost or some sort of hobgoblin.’

  ‘A human hand pushed me, not a ghost.’ You little fool.

  He glared at her, his mouth a thin straight line. ‘Clearly I should not have let you go to the mine. You are not to be trusted to behave like a sensible woman and stay with your party.’

  ‘Interesting that you were not searching the tunnels, but rather were leaving for home.’ There, she had as good as voiced her suspicions.

  He frowned, his gaze searching her face. ‘I found you on the road.’

  ‘Bad luck for you, I suppose,’ she muttered and was surprised when he flinched. It seemed she’d struck a nerve. ‘Just like the near miss at the cliff and the lucky escape from the barrel. Marriage must seem a great deal more certain at this point.’

  The words hung between them like a sword waiting to strike a death blow.

  His face turned to granite. His gaze moved from hers and fixed off in the distance. When he finally looked at her, his eyes were the grey of a winter storm. ‘Your powers of deduction are truly astounding.’

  No denial. No claims of innocence. All her longing for one person in her life who would care about her balled into one hard lump in her throat. A burning painful blockage that no matter how hard she swallowed would not go back where it belonged in the deep reaches of her soul.

  Perhaps if he would just pretend to care, it would not feel quite so bad. She forced a bitter smile. ‘Even women are capable of logic when it stares them in the face.’ The husky quality in her voice, the grief she hoped he would not recognise, came as a shock. Not even Sally’s betrayal had left her with such a feeling of desolation.

  ‘If your logic leads you to the understanding that marriage to me is your best chance of survival, then I am glad.’

  She could not control the tremor that rocked her deep in her bones. The threat in his voice was unmistakable.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘Wharton will have quite a time of it, preparing your trousseau at such short notice,’ Mrs Hampton said the next afternoon, as they sat taking tea in the drawing room. ‘We should visit her first thing in the morning.’

  His lordship looked up from the letter he was writing. ‘Only a few things are required. A morning gown. A travelling dress. Send her a note. She has Mary’s measurements. We will visit a proper modiste in town after the wedding.’

  Mary glowered at the pair of them, tired of the way they decided everything between them. ‘I don’t need new clothes for a wedding no one but family will attend.’

  ‘You will need appropriate attire for the journey to London, however,’ his lordship said. He rose from his chair and went to the window to look out. It was the second time he’d done that in the space of an hour.

  ‘Are you expecting someone?’ she asked.

  He looked more than a little startled and if she wasn’t mistaken his colour heightened on his cheekbones. ‘Templeton. He said he would either come himself or send a message. I expected him yesterday.’

  ‘I do hope nothing bad has befallen him on the road,’ Mrs Hampton said, absently. ‘What about this one?’ she continued, holding up a fashion plate for Mary to see. A dark-blue military-style pelisse over a shirt with a ruffle around the neck. ‘It is all the crack according to the Assemblée.’

  ‘Too much frill,’ Mary said. ‘I prefer something simpler.’

  Bane went to the hearth and rang the bell. The butler shuffled in a few moments later. His face was impassive, but Mary felt sure his eyes were curious. All the servants must be talking about them spending the night together. ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘Send word to the stables that I require Henry to take a message to St Ives.’ He glanced over at Mary and Mrs Hampton. ‘How soon can you have a list ready for the seamstress?’

  Mary put her teacup on the table beside her, rose and took the magazine from Mrs Hampton. She flipped through the fashion plates until she saw what she was looking for. ‘This one,’ she said, showing the older lady. ‘And this carriage dress.’

  Mrs Hampton reviewed her choices, then nodded. ‘Yes. Yes. You are right. You are a perfect height to carry these off.’

  A perfect height? No one had ever called her height perfect before and yet there was no trace of mockery in the other woman’s voice. ‘Then the matter is settled.’ She sent a glance of triumph at Bane.

  He didn’t seem to notice.

  ‘If you will excuse me, Mrs Hampton,’ she said, reining in her irritation, ‘I find I have run out of reading material. If you need me, I will be in the library.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Bane said.

  She smiled sweetly. ‘No need. I won’t be but a moment.’

  He gave her a look that said he was not prepared to argue. ‘No trouble at all.’

  She gritted her teeth. All morning he had been at her side, as if he expected her to try to leave the moment his back was turned.

  He clicked his fingers and his dog immediately came to its feet.

  ‘That animal should not be in the drawing room,’ Mrs Hampton sniffed. ‘Gentlemen leave their hunting dogs in the stables.’

  ‘My dog, my drawing room, my house,’ Bane said. He bared his teeth in a hard smile. ‘And no one in this house has ever suggested I was a gentleman.’

  ‘You are the earl,’ the widow said. ‘So now you must act like one.’

  Mary felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. ‘He is a very well-behaved dog. I do not mind his presence at all.’

  A mocking smile crossed the earl’s face. ‘I am pleased to hear it.’

  Now what had she said to provide him with amusement? Whatever it was she was not going to ask.
Not when he was behaving like a shadow. Indeed, after their exchange of truths in bed she had half-expected him to avoid her altogether, since he thought her a liar.

  She strolled towards the door and he strode to open it for her to pass through. He bowed as she swept past. She couldn’t help notice just how elegantly he did so, or the way her heart fluttered. Dash it all, it was hard to be annoyed when he was being so charmingly attentive.

  At the library door, he moved around her to open the door, but remained, with his dog at his side, barring her way, looking down at her with those silvery eyes with an expression she could not read.

  ‘I am sorry if you find my presence wearisome,’ he said.

  Was that a note of hurt she heard in his voice? She felt an unwanted pang of guilt. She pushed it away. He was playing on her emotions.

  ‘I gave my word that I would not leave, for heaven’s sake,’ she said. ‘But you are making me feel like a prisoner.’

  His mouth tightened, and whatever amusement there had been left in his expression, it was gone now. ‘You are. Until we are safely wed.’

  ‘After that it won’t matter, you mean.’

  ‘It will matter. But not in the same way.’

  ‘Because there is no escape, once we are wed.’

  ‘I will do my best to make sure you do not feel the desire to escape.’ His rough voice caressed her.

  A delicious shimmer of desire warmed her, and infuriated her, at how easily she succumbed to his sensual wiles. ‘I wonder if your best will be good enough.’ She bit her lip at the flash of pain in his eyes. She had not meant to hurt him, just to maintain some distance, some control over herself, now he had taken away all her options. Petty, but necessary to her sense of self. Except it wasn’t his fault she found herself in this predicament. He hadn’t so much seduced her as fulfilled her every spinsterish dream and more.

  She deserved whatever fate awaited her, for giving in to those fantasies.

  She made to step past him.

  ‘Wait.’

  She looked up into his handsome face and once more her chest squeezed painfully with the knowledge he would never love her. She forced herself not to care. ‘Yes, my lord.’

  His mouth tightened as if he did not like what he was about to say. ‘I have to leave the house, on an errand of my own.’

  Her jaw dropped. ‘You intend to leave me to my own devices? I am honoured by your trust.’

  His expression became rueful. ‘You will do as I request and remain here or face the consequences. You have agreed to be mine.’ He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.

  The possessive note in his voice gave her a delicious thrill low in her belly. A carnal response to the darkness in his voice she could not help. ‘Our agreement is a marriage of convenience. That is all.’

  ‘And as my affianced wife, you are mine to protect.’

  ‘You are the one I need protection from,’ she grumbled.

  He grimaced. ‘Perhaps. But you will not leave the house while I am gone.’

  ‘And if I do?’ she challenged.

  ‘You won’t.’

  He released the door and bowed her in. ‘Have a pleasant afternoon, dear Mary. I will see you at dinner.’ At his side, Ranger wagged his tail, looking up at his master with complete adoration. She knew how he felt, she just hoped she wasn’t quite as obvious. Not when his lordship had nothing to give her in return.

  She entered the room and was surprised when the dog followed her.

  ‘On guard, Ranger,’ Bane commanded.

  Mary swung around. ‘You are jesting?’

  An apologetic look in his eyes, Bane bowed slightly. ‘I am afraid not. Enjoy your afternoon.’ He left.

  ‘This is ridiculous. Bane. Come back here.’ When he didn’t return, she moved to follow him. The dog issued a low growl and lifted its lip, revealing large incisors.

  ‘Down,’ she said firmly.

  The hairs on the back of its neck bristled.

  ‘Bane,’ she shouted. ‘Blast.’ It seemed she was trapped. Again. What sort of game was he playing? She given into his demands and still he didn’t trust her. It hurt. Badly. More than it should, since she certainly didn’t dare trust him.

  The dog watched her with pricked ears, its red, wet tongue lolling from one side of its very large mouth. She knew nothing about dogs and she did not want to put this one to the test. She moved deeper into the room and it lay down across the threshold with its head on its paws, still watching her intently.

  ‘This is too much.’

  The dog whined and thumped its tail on the carpet.

  She once more moved towards the door. The dog growled.

  It seemed she had no choice but to find a book and read until Bane returned to collect his wretched animal. Was this to be her future with this man? Guarded and watched?

  If so, she wasn’t sure she could go through with it. Yet what was the alternative?

  * * *

  By the time Bane strode through the door, looking wind blown and purposeful, the candles had been lit, a dinner tray provided and Mary was too furious to read a word of the novel in her lap.

  Ranger bounded around his legs in joyful abandon. ‘Down, sir,’ he said, looking at Mary. ‘I am sorry I was longer than I intended. I hope you haven’t been too inconvenienced.’

  ‘Apart from being unable to go for dinner or attend the necessary, I haven’t been the slightest discommoded.’

  Amusement flashed in his eyes, annoying her all the more. ‘I am sorry.’

  ‘I see nothing to laugh about.’

  He sobered. ‘Nor I.’

  ‘Where were you that you must needs leave me here guarded by this animal, a source of amusement for all, especially your cousin Jeffrey?’

  ‘He was here, was he?’

  ‘He came for a book and left without one.’

  He patted the dog’s flank with a heavy hand. ‘Good boy.’

  A footman scratched at the door and Bane looked up.

  The young man coloured. ‘Mr Manners said you asked for me, my lord.’

  ‘Yes, Henry. Please take Ranger to the stables and see him fed, would you please.’

  The dog’s ears pricked and he attached himself to the footman immediately.

  ‘Cupboard lover,’ Bane murmured with a mock glower.

  ‘It’s as if he can understand every word,’ Mary said as the footman left with the dog lolloping along beside him.

  ‘He does.’

  ‘You still haven’t said where you were.’

  He frowned. ‘Among other places, I went to St Ives to arrange a ship’s passage for first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Ship’s passage?’

  ‘To London. The sooner we are married the better. I can arrange for a special licence there.’

  She swallowed. She had thought she had at least two or three weeks before they were wed. Another woman in different circumstances might have been thrilled by his desire for speed. To Mary it felt a bit like staring into a prison cell. ‘Why the sudden rush?’

  ‘I don’t like this house. I never have.’

  ‘Because of the ghost?’

  ‘I thought you too sensible to believe in such nonsense.’

  She sighed. ‘After what happened at the mine, I am not so sure.’

  He gave her a sharp look.

  ‘I had the strangest feeling of someone trying to help me.’

  ‘What? After pushing you down a shaft?’

  It really did sound foolish when he put it like that. ‘You know it has been a long day and I think I would like to retire now.’

  ‘I shall escort you to your chamber.’

  ‘It is not necessary. I can find my way perfectly well.’

  ‘Nevertheless...’ He held out his arm.

  She could either take it or he would follow her. She could see the determination on his face. And something else, a kind of bitter smile, as if he expected her to reject his offer.

  Had other women rejected him, knowing he was l
ow born even though heir to a title? She could imagine they might, in the highest of circles.

  She made to place her hand on his sleeve, but he grasped it and drew her close to his side, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. A public demonstration of intimacy, even though there was no one there to see it.

  It made her feel wanted. A surprisingly warm feeling. It melted her insides, made her want to lean against his strength and let him do with her as he would. And therein lay the danger.

  If she came to rely on his caring too much, she would be heading for disappointment, so she did her best to appear unconcerned. To appear as if gentlemen escorted her in such a fashion every day of the week.

  ‘What time do you expect we will leave in the morning?’ she asked, feeling obliged to break what felt like far too comfortable a silence as they strolled towards her chamber.

  ‘To leave St Ives on the first tide, we will need to leave here no later than six in the morning. Do you think you can be ready on time?’

  ‘I can. Are you sure we cannot marry from here? I have never set foot on a ship before.’

  ‘Afraid, Mary? I did not think you chicken-hearted.’

  ‘It is the middle of winter. I hear mal de mer can be very uncomfortable.’

  They had arrived at her chamber door and he turned to face her. ‘You are right. But it is the fastest way and, if it is any comfort to you, the weather is set to be fine for the next two days according to the ship’s captain.’

  She could see from his expression that no objection from her was going to change his mind.

  He opened the door to let her in. ‘Thank you, my lord.’ She dipped a little curtsy.

  He gave a short laugh. ‘I can see you would rather hit me over the head with your poker. Thank you for not pressing your objections.’

  ‘I can see it would do no good.’

  He looked surprised. ‘I think you and I will do very well together, my dear Mary.’

  ‘As long as I do exactly as you say.’ She shook her head. ‘I am afraid that, as a general rule, is not in my nature. Perhaps you should think of another way out of this dilemma.’

  ‘There isn’t one.’ His voice lost its teasing note.

  ‘Then I must bid you goodnight.’ She stepped into her room and was astonished when he walked in behind her.