your foot, miss.’
‘It is well enough. Please hurry.’ She’d taken off the bandage before Betsy had come back with the tray and, though her ankle was still discoloured by the bruise, the swelling had quite gone and it only really hurt if she moved carelessly. It was strong enough for a carriage ride and a short walk. She wanted to see the condition of the children at the mine. She’d read a great deal recently by some forward-thinking women about the cruel conditions of such places. She could not bear the thought that those kind of conditions existed at something for which she was responsible.
While Betsy hurried off to do her bidding, Mary dressed. Fortunately for her, she’d been wearing her front-closing stays when the rest of her things had gone over the cliff, so she managed fairly well, and only needed Betsy to fasten the back of her gown when she returned with the news that his lordship was waiting. But not for long.
‘I can’t say he was pleased, miss, but he ordered up the carriage.’
Mary wrapped her woollen cloak around her, tied on her bonnet and pulled on her gloves. ‘And I am ready. Now if you would be so good as to lead me to the front door, I can make sure I am not delaying his lordship any more than necessary.’
She followed Betsy along the corridors and realised she no longer needed a guide. She was becoming quite familiar with the old house’s twists and turns. But this morning it was better to be safe than sorry.
Losing her way and arriving late would be all the excuse his lordship needed to leave without her. And this would be a chance to survey the roads around the house. The next time she left, she intended to follow the road across the moors to Helston where his lordship had not warned the inhabitants they must not sell her a ticket for the stagecoach.
As much as she wanted to trust him when he was kissing her senseless, the answer had finally come to her just before she fell asleep. If she agreed to marry him, she would be wholly in his power. He would be able to do anything he wanted and she would not be able to object. A very bad idea while she had no idea why his grandfather had pushed them together.
The first order of business was to find Sally Ladbrook and find out what she knew. Then perhaps she could think about what to do in regard to the earl. Because the last thing she wanted was to be at the mercy of a vengeful husband in a damp and draughty house where ghosts seemed to roam at will and, according to legend, people could disappear without a trace.
Beresford was standing beside the carriage when she exited the house into the sunshine. His face was set in its usual grim lines as he looked up at her approach. There was no sign of his horse. ‘Good morning, my lord,’ she said brightly.
‘Good day, Miss Wilding.’
There was nothing of the passionate man he had been in her room last night in the icy gaze he bestowed on her. She half-wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. But she hadn’t. Nor had she imagined the scream that had awoken her from her horrible dream. ‘You knew I wished to go with you, my lord. You might have sent word.’
‘You weren’t at breakfast, Miss Wilding,’ he said, with a slight nod of his head, ‘or I would have told you of my plans.’
Oh, yes, she really believed that.
His raised a brow. ‘I thought you might prefer to wait until your ankle is perfectly well.’
By then it might be too late. By then she might have succumbed to his powers of seduction. ‘I prefer to go today. And here I am. Ready to go.’
Something hot flared in his eyes. Anger, no doubt. No man liked a woman with a will of her own. He bowed slightly. ‘Your carriage awaits, but time does not.’
One of the grooms leapt forwards to open the carriage door and she climbed inside and settled herself against the squabs. He climbed in after her.
Startled, she edged deeper into the corner. ‘I thought you planned to ride?’
‘I did.’
‘Don’t feel you must keep me company.’ Oh dear, that sounded rude.
‘I never do anything I don’t wish to do, Miss Wilding,’ he drawled and stretched out his legs, brushing against her skirts in a way that felt