Haunted by the Earl's Touch - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,56
you must permit me to help you.’
Oh, she had fallen very neatly into that trap, hadn’t she? ‘Thank you, but I manage fine with my cane.’ She bent down and retrieved it from the floor beside her chair.
His mouth was tight when she stood up and the faint warmth of earlier had gone from his eyes. They were as cold as granite. Was he somehow hurt that she had refused his aid?
‘It is good for me to walk,’ she said, in a feeble attempt to lessen the blow, if indeed she was interpreting his expression correctly. ‘I have been sitting too long.’
A muscle jumped in his jaw. He bowed. ‘As you wish.’
‘Then I bid you goodnight, my lord. Thank you for a pleasant evening.’
‘I see good manners were also a part of the curriculum,’ he said drily as she passed out of the room.
As she limped back to her chamber, she had the strangest sensation of being followed. A sort of prickling at the back of her neck, but each time she turned around to look, there was no one there. She shivered, thinking of Gerald’s tales of hauntings.
Or was it something much simpler—was his lordship following her to make sure she did not stray? Somehow she felt much more comfortable with the first idea.
Chapter Nine
A wisp of light floated above the uneven floor. The nearby rocks lining the tunnel wall and ceiling were shown in glistening relief, the darkness beyond impenetrable. The ground sloped downwards beneath Mary’s feet. Steep. Rough. And Mary could hear the sea, a roaring grumbling vibration through the rocks.
The figure ahead beckoned. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ it whispered softly.
Sometimes it was right in front of her, sometimes it disappeared around a corner, leaving only a faint glow in its wake, but as long as Mary kept moving forwards, it was always there, just ahead. The White Lady. It could be no one else.
The chill was unearthly. Mary rubbed her bare arms and realised she was dressed only in her nightrail. Her bare feet were numb. She glanced back down the tunnel. She should get her shawl and slippers. Behind her there was only blackness. How far had she come? It seemed better to go on.
A long low moan echoed around her.
Rattling chains.
The glowing figure headed towards her, twisting like smoke. Fear caught at her heart. She turned and ran. Into the black. Ahead she could see a small wedge of light. Her chamber. Her stomach dropped away. She was falling. Into the dark.
A shriek split the air.
Mary jolted. Sat up, shaking.
Where was she? The last of the embers in her fire swam into focus. She shivered and looked around.
She was on her bed, her bedclothes on the floor. The only light in the room was a low red glow from the fire. Shadows clung to the walls. The air was freezing. Was that wretched door to the tunnel open? She shot out of bed. Rummaged for the poker among the sheets.
There. The comforting shape of iron. She grabbed it and held it high above her head. ‘Who is there?’ she quavered.
Her door burst open.
She screamed, backing away, grasping the poker in two hands, staring at the shadowy figure menacing her from the doorway.
‘Get out,’ she warned, her voice full of panic.
The man, for it was a man and not a ghost, plucked a candle from the sconce outside her door and stepped boldly into the room. The light revealed the earl, dressed in naught but his shirt and breeches.
‘You!’ she said.
‘Miss Wilding. Mary. I heard you scream.’ He drew closer, his gaze fixed on her face. ‘Give me that.’
He could not possibly have heard her from his room in the south tower. She gripped her weapon tighter. ‘Stay away.’
In one swift movement he wrested the poker from her hand and flung it aside.
She pressed her back against the wall.
He stared at her as if shocked, then stepped back, hand held away from his side. ‘Take it easy, Miss Wilding.’ He replaced the unlit stub in the candlestick on her dressing table with the lit one in his hand.
Her body was shaking. Her heart racing. She put a hand on the bedside table for balance. ‘What do you want?’
He recoiled, as if startled by her vehemence, but as he looked at her, his eyes widened, and a sensual longing filled his expression as his gaze drifted down her body. Her insides tightened at the heat of the hunger in his eyes.