are some hours yet until breakfast and you should get some rest. You need not be anxious for me,’ she added quickly. ‘My maid is coming to relieve me shortly.’
‘Then if there is nothing else I can do for you, I shall return to my room.’ He stood up.
Intimidated by him towering over her, Beth rose, but even when she drew herself up her eyes were only level with his mouth. She was momentarily distracted by the curve of his lips and the tiny lines on each side of his mouth, indicative of laughter. An entertaining companion. The thought occurred to Beth and was instantly dismissed. She had no time for such luxuries.
‘Thank you, my lord, for your assistance.’
‘It was my pleasure, ma’am.’
With a slight bow he left the room. As soon as the door closed Beth was aware of a chill of loneliness wrapping itself around her.
Chapter Four
Lady Arabella did not believe in the modern notion of nuncheon and it was usually close to noon before she left her apartments to break her fast. By that time Beth had normally been up for hours and busy with her household duties, but after a night keeping watch in the sickroom she had slept the early morning away and was roused by her maid coming to tell her that Dr Compton had arrived to see his patient.
The hour was therefore quite advanced by the time Beth made her way to the breakfast table. Lord Darrington was already there and appeared to be upon the very best of terms with his hostess. They were bandying names unfamiliar to Beth as she came in and she heard her grandmother sigh.
‘Of course I never go to town now and most of my old friends have passed on, so I am no longer in touch with the world.’
‘Nonsense, Grandmama,’ said Beth bracingly. ‘Sophia and I read the London papers to you every day!’
‘Including the Intelligencer?’ murmured Guy.
Beth avoided his laughing eyes.
‘But that is hardly the same,’ stated Lady Arabella. ‘I was telling Darrington he should go to town more.’
‘London holds no charms for me,’ said the earl apologetically. He was dressed once more in his fine wool riding jacket and tightly fitting buckskins, but all traces of mud and dirt had been removed.
‘I am pleased Mrs Robinson managed to clean your clothes for you,’ said Beth as he rose and held out a chair for her.
‘Yes. They were delivered up to me earlier this morning. Please thank your housekeeper for me. However, I shall be happier once Holt has arrived with my baggage. I would prefer to wear something a little more formal—and my own!—before I sit down to dinner again.’
Beth refused to respond to his charming smile.
‘There is not the least need for you to put yourself to the inconvenience of staying another night—’
‘That is enough, Elizabeth.’ Lady Arabella’s voice cut across the table. ‘I have invited Lord Darrington to stay with us for as long as he wishes.’
‘But our household cannot be what the earl is accustomed to,’ objected Beth.
Lady Arabella silenced her with the wave of her hand and turned again to the earl.
‘My granddaughter appears to think we are not good enough for you, Darrington. I do not know why. The Wakefords can trace their line back before the Conqueror and my own family rose to prominence in the time of good King Hal. Your own title, I believe, was not created until the time of Charles the Second.’
The earl nodded. ‘That is correct, ma’am. I am a veritable up start.’
‘That is not what I meant at all,’ protested Beth, flustered. ‘I was … concerned for your comfort, sir.’
His sceptical look brought the colour flooding to her cheeks and she was pleased when Sophie arrived to create a diversion. Her young sister was prettily polite to their guest and enquired solicitously after his friend’s health.
‘I have not yet seen him this morning, Miss Wakeford, but I believe he is comfortable.’ The earl looked an enquiry at Beth, who nodded. He continued, ‘I am much in Mrs Forrester’s debt. She attended Mr Davies throughout the night.’
‘Ah, then that accounts for her crotchets this morning,’ remarked Lady Arabella with no little satisfaction.
Normally Beth would have laughed off such a comment, but the fact that the earl was present to hear it made her feel out of reason cross. She turned to her sister.
‘Sophie my love, will you have time to help me today? We need to gather more comfrey leaves.’
‘More?’ said Lady Arabella. ‘But you went out collecting comfrey only last week. Surely you have enough?’
‘Rudge tells me the old mare requires another poultice, ma’am,’ Beth explained patiently.
‘Then let him go and gather the leaves,’ retorted her grandmother. ‘He is, after all, the groom—or he could send the stable boy.’
‘Really I do not mind going,’ said Sophie quickly. ‘I know exactly where to find the best comfrey plants and shall collect a whole basketful. Then we shall have leaves to dry as well as fresh ones to use now.’ She smiled across the table at Lady Arabella. ‘You need have no fear, Grandmama. I shall be back in time to read the papers to you while you are resting before dinner.’
‘You have both forgotten our guest may need entertaining.’
The earl shook his head. ‘Not at all, my lady. I am very happy to amuse myself.’
‘Lord Darrington is, of course, welcome to join us on our expedition,’ Beth offered politely but Guy did not miss the look of relief that crossed her features when he declined.
He said, ‘I expect the carriage to arrive from Highridge at any moment and I propose to take a stroll along the drive to look out for it.’
‘Then if you will excuse us, we will collect our baskets and be off. Come, Sophie.’
The two young ladies disappeared, Lady Arabella made her way to the morning room, declaring that she was going to write her letters, and Guy was left alone. After assuring himself that Davey was still asleep, he made his way to the entrance and descended the steep stone steps to the drive. It was a bright, sunny morning with just a hint of autumn in the air and it was hard to believe that only the night before he had followed the farmhands as they carried Davey’s body through the rain, up these same steps and into the house. He looked around him with interest at the old building. The original refectory with its gabled roof now housed the main entrance and great hall. Beside the steps was an ancient arched doorway, leading to the undercroft. Intrigued, Guy tried the door, but it was locked. Wandering on, he soon spotted the stable block and made his way across to it. He noted with approval the tidy yard and quickly strode across the swept cobbles and through the high-arched entrance to the stables. Inside he found an iron-haired groom inspecting Davey’s bay mare. The man touched his cap when he saw Guy approaching.
‘Rudge, isn’t it?’ Guy addressed him pleasantly and
