Haunted by the Earl's Touch - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,25

the earl said, loosening his hold and looking over her shoulder. ‘Could you be any more de trop?’ The sarcasm was back and the raspy drawl.

Apparently oblivious to the threat those soft words contained, Gerald stomped across the room.

Mary pulled away, turning her face to the window while she groped for a handkerchief. The earl planted himself between her and the intruder who was clearly bound and determined to have his say. ‘Miss Wilding is distressed. Please leave.’

‘Distressed?’ Gerald said. ‘Aye, I can believe it. And what did you do to bring her to tears?’

‘It is none of your business,’ the earl replied coldly. ‘Go away.’

Mary blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes. A few deep breaths would set her to rights, but she needed to be alone, away from the disturbing presence of the earl, to work out what Sally’s letter really meant for her future. ‘Please, excuse me, gentlemen.’

The earl put out a hand as if he would stop her, then let it fall. She made for the door and Gerald stepped aside to let her pass as if he barely saw her. His gaze was fixed on the earl. ‘You don’t belong here, Bane Beresford. We all know what you are. A bloody coalminer stealing a title from the rightful heir.’

Mary felt her mouth drop open in shock. She glanced back at the earl. His body radiated tension. His fists at his sides clenched and released. His dark gaze shifted from Gerald to her and back and then he leaned against the window frame folding his arms over his chest with a cynical curl to his lips. ‘And what do you intend to do about it, bantling?’

Colour crept into the younger man’s face, still set in an expression of defiance. Did he plan to fight with the earl? He would be badly outmatched.

‘Gentlemen, please. This is hardly the way for members of a family to behave to each other,’ she said.

Both men threw her angry looks.

Clearly she wasn’t helping. But then, what did she know of families? Or friends for that matter? Once more, thoughts of Sally’s callous note made her stomach fall away. The hard hot lump she had managed to swallow while wrapped in the earl’s arms returned with a vengeance. Tears. A river of them, if the burning behind her eyes was any indication. ‘Please excuse me,’ she said, ducking her head as she ran for her chamber and privacy.

No one, least of all the earl, was going to see her dissolve into a blob of self-pity.

* * *

It took a good four hours before she gained her composure. First there had been tears, then anger at the earl, followed by a new emptiness. It had always been there, the small cold kernel of knowledge that she was unwanted, but as the years had passed, she’d formed an attachment for Sally Ladbrook. First as her pupil and employee, and more recently as a friend. Until today, she hadn’t realised how much she relied on Sally’s advice and counsel, on that one constant in her life. Now, thanks to the earl, she was completely alone.

It was terrifying.

But why? Why had Sally abandoned her? Was she really so unnecessary to anyone? Or had the earl offered an irresistible lure? If so, then she would never forgive him.

With a final sniff, she rose from the bed and went to the glass on the dressing table. Yes, her eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot. Her cheeks were chapped and sore, and her nose looked like a cherry popped into the middle of her face.

But the storm was over. She was drained of all emotion. Empty.

And that was how she would proceed from here. From now on, she would take no one at face value. Trust no one and rely only on herself.

She straightened her shoulders and went to the basin to bath her face. Her stomach grumbled. She vaguely remembered Betsy knocking on the door, reminding her of dinner and finally going away. She could not have gone to dinner then, hating the thought of anyone seeing her in this state.

There were the rolls she had purloined earlier. She retrieved them from the dresser drawer where she had tucked them after her escapade on the cliff. Hard as rocks, but edible if washed down with water. She munched slowly on the stale bread and considered her options. Find Sally and let her explain what had happened? Or consign her to the devil and set her feet on