Haunted by the Earl's Touch - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,89
head. It held his arms pinned to his sides. He was panting, struggling for breath, and the one holding him was laughing.
This was his fault. He should not have gone to the mine after she forbade him. Should not have lost his temper. Should not have made her come looking for him.
‘Let me go,’ he shouted. Tried to shout. The cloth muffled his voice, made it hard to breathe.
And then they were gone. He fought his way out of his coat.
Fought to find his way to the sounds of sobbing.
Free from restraint, Bane shot bolt upright. In a chair. He was watching over Mary, not searching for his mother on a cold Welsh hillside.
The damned dream had returned. Cold sweat trickled down his back. Why now, when he hadn’t had it for years?
His gaze sought out Mary. She lay on the bed, still and silent, one arm flung above her head, her beautiful blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders. She looked too delicious for words. Too perfect to be true. And perhaps she was, but he wanted her. And so he would make her his wife in spite of his anger against his scheming grandfather. As long as he kept his distance, didn’t allow himself to form an attachment, the marriage could work to the benefit of both. Oh, yes, he could already imagine the benefits as his body hardened.
A woman sobbed. Not Mary. His gaze shot to the chamber door. Another scream ripped through the air. His blood ran cold. Desire fled.
Mary sat up, clutching the sheets to her breasts.
‘Its all right,’ he said softly.
‘The White Lady,’ she said, her voice trembling, pointing across the room. Bane stared at the apparition floating beside the red glow of the fireplace. Behind the eerie figure was what appeared to be a gaping hole in the wall.
The ghostly shape faded into the blackness.
Mary crawled out of bed on the other side, clutching that damned poker again.
‘What the devil is going on here?’ he bit out.
‘The tunnel,’ she whispered.
‘Bloody hell,’ he cursed. ‘You knew about that?’ He pointed at the hole in the wall.
Her eyes widened. Innocence? Or something else? ‘There is a passageway behind the wall,’ she whispered. ‘I thought you knew.’
He grimaced. ‘If I had known, I would never have let you sleep here.’
He reached for his discarded coat and pushed his feet into his shoes.
‘You are going after her?’ Her voice shook.
Fear. She was afraid. A roiling surge of anger ripped through him. His lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl. How dare they terrify his woman? He was going to beat whoever was doing this to a pulp.
She recoiled, staring at him.
Dear God, now she was fearful of him. He fought for control. Remembered who had suffered the last time he let his temper get the best of him and put out a hand. ‘We have to put a stop to this, that is all.’ There, that sounded reasonable.
She put her poker down on the bed and slipped on her robe. ‘The tunnel leads to the chamber above.’ She hesitated. ‘It also runs along behind your room.’
Horrified, he grasped her arm as she was in the process of tying the belt. She looked up at him, startled. ‘Are you telling me you have been in that tunnel?’
She nodded. ‘I discovered it by chance. According to the history book it leads down to the sea caves.’
‘Smugglers,’ he said, as it all became clear. ‘The Beresfords were nothing but a pack of pirates and smugglers in Good Queen Bess’s day. That’s how they gained their wealth and the title.’
She nodded.
‘Manners said the tunnels were closed up. Fallen in.’
‘Apparently not,’ she said drily.
He almost laughed. God, this woman awed him with her pragmatic little comments. ‘Stay here. I am going to put a stop to Jeffrey’s tricks once and for all.’
‘You think it is Jeffrey.’
‘Who else would it be?’
‘Gerald?’ She sounded tentative. ‘There is something odd about that boy.’
‘He went with his mother to visit friends. Jeffrey was to go with them, but changed his mind at the last, Manners told me.’ He pulled on his coat and picked up a candle.
She picked up her poker. ‘I’m coming with you.’
That was all he needed. A woman and, in particular, this woman to look after while he chased down a man who wanted them both dead. ‘No. Wait here.’
She pushed her feet into her slippers. ‘What if he comes back another way? According that history book, there are several entrances.’