Haunted by the Earl's Touch - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,23

brigands.’

‘Rather fitting, don’t you think?’ The words were out before she could stop them.

He gave her a look askance, as if he found her a puzzle he would like to solve. Well, she had solved his puzzle. She knew exactly what was on his mind. Her murder. A bone-deep shudder trembled in her bones.

They reached the ruins near her tower. He stopped, his gaze fixed on the door through which she had left. ‘You came through there.’

It wasn’t a question. She shrugged and kept walking.

He caught her arm and halted her. ‘Give me your word you will not try to leave again without my permission.’

‘You have no authority over my actions. None at all.’

He let go a sigh. ‘Very well, that door and all the others will from now on be locked and barred.’ One corner of his mouth curled up, and if his voice had not been so harsh, she might have thought it an attempt at a smile. ‘You might as well use it to go back inside.’

She pulled her arm free. Anything not to have to spend any more time in his company. Her runaway heart was going to knock right through the wall of her chest. She headed for the door.

‘Miss Wilding,’ he said, softly.

She turned back.

‘Be in the library at eleven o’clock.’

‘Why?’

‘There is a funeral to arrange.’

Why would she need to be involved in family arrangements? Unless he still thought she was some sort of relation. The very idea made anger ball up in her chest, because while she had longed for it desperately, it wasn’t the case. And that was just as foolish as the way her emotions seemed to see-saw around him.

She shot him a glare as he stood there, waiting for her obedience, one hand on a hip, the other gripping the horse’s reins, watching her with those unnerving grey eyes as if she was a recalcitrant child.

With no other alternative in sight, she lifted the latch and went in.

* * *

As custom dictated, the ladies were not expected to attend the funeral. Mary also refused to attend the reception arranged for afterwards. She wasn’t family and there had been quite enough speculation about her relationship to the deceased earl. She had no wish to run the gauntlet of local gossip. Besides, she had nothing suitable to wear now her valise was gone. Reluctantly the earl had agreed.

Heady with triumph at winning the argument, Mary had settled herself in the library with Maria Edgeworth’s Belinda. Romantic nonsense, Sally would have called it, but it had a depth to it, too, that Mary found fascinating.

‘What are you reading?’

Startled at the closeness of the voice, Mary looked up with a gasp. The earl, dark and predatory, loomed over her looking like a dark angel. Much as he had looked at his grandfather’s bedside. Perhaps not quite as grim.

‘Shouldn’t you be at the reception?’ she asked sweetly.

‘It is over.’

A hot flush travelled up her face as she realised that evening was drawing in rapidly. The afternoon had flown by in unaccustomed idleness. She was already straining to see the words on the page, but she’d been too engrossed to get up and light a candle. She closed the book. ‘I didn’t realise how late it was.’

He glanced down at the cover. ‘A novel. I should have guessed.’

The back of her neck prickled because he was standing so close. Because once more his cologne invaded her nostrils and recalled to mind her disgraceful response to his lips on hers. Her body warmed in the most uncomfortable way at the memory. How could she think about his kiss after he had practically dropped her off the cliff earlier in the day? Her mind must be disordered.

‘Was there some reason for your interruption?’ She gave him the frosty glance that had new girls quaking in their slippers.

It troubled him not one whit, it seemed. Indeed he didn’t seem to notice the chill in her voice at all, since a flicker of amusement passed across his face. Hah! She should be glad he found her entertaining.

He held out a note. ‘The post brought you a letter.’

Oh, now she felt bad for being rude.

He moved away to give her privacy and began browsing the shelves on the far side of the room.

She frowned at the handwriting. She had not expected Sally to write after such a short time. Sending mail such a distance was expensive. Now she would owe the earl for the cost of the postage and she had