Page 10 of Beth: A Regency Romance Novell

“Enjoy it!” Unable to hide her loathing, she shuddered. She eyed him with distaste, anger trouncing her fear. “With you? I would rather spend the night with a poisonous snake.”

She suddenly recalled her conversation with Mr. Nyeland about snakes. She wished they had danced together again. That he had taken her into supper. A memory she could return to when things got too hard for her to bear.

Outside in the corridor the grandfather clock struck the hour reminding her of the night passing, and with it a chance for her to escape and return to London before word spread that she had disappeared. In the grate, the flames took hold, biting through the wood with a loud crackling noise.

Ramsey drank the rest of his wine. “A fire has also been lit in the bedchamber.”

“Then why don’t you go there and leave me here?”

He eyed her his gaze hardening. How far could she go before he retaliated? Would he hurt her? “Don’t be ridiculous. You will be much more comfortable there with me.”

“Let me go.” To her dismay her voice sounded shrill. She fought to steady herself. This madman must not see her fear. She lifted her chin. “I wish to return to London.”

“My coach has left, remember? And I doubt that’s a good idea, Elizabeth. Your absence will have been noted. Mrs. Grayshott will be busy telling all and sundry about how you sent her on a wild goose chase into the gardens and slipped away with your lover.” With a smile, he reached into his pocket. “Oh, by the way, here is your note to Mrs. Grayshott. I must have forgotten to deliver it.”

Beth’s heart sank. Her fingers itched to slap him, to claw her nails down that smug face. “You have gone to a great deal of trouble. I insist you tell me why.”

“You make a lot of demands for someone in your position.” He tucked the letter back into his waistcoat pocket and eyed her dispassionately. “How impatient you are. If you behave yourself, you shall not suffer unduly. See, how kind I am to you? I give you a choice.” He produced a pack of cards from his pocket and began to shuffle them. “We will play a game of faro together. If you win, I will send you back to Harrow Court in the morning untouched. If you lose you will spend the rest of the night with me. You will not be disappointed, I assure you.”

“You certainly will be.” Beth glared at him. “If you lay a hand on me I shall be sick.”

Unfazed, Ramsey beckoned with a finger. “We shall begin our game. And then we will see.”

Beth put a hand to her stomach. “I require the privy!”

He glanced at her with distaste. “Very well. But no tricks. Otherwise my kind offer will be withdrawn. And I shall not be gentle with you.” His gaze ran over her from her head to her feet. “I must say I was delighted to find the duke’s sister-in-law to be so comely. It will be no chore to spend the night with you.”

“The privy, Ramsey!” Beth demanded, hands on her hips to hide her trembling.

He climbed to his feet. “Oh, very well.”

“You don’t seem to have considered how the duke will deal with you,” she said as he unlocked the door. “Andrew has some dangerous friends.” She thought of the Marquess of Strathairn, who had come to Andrew’s aid once before. But he wasn’t here to help her. She must find a way to outsmart this man.

“It would be wise of Harrow not to retaliate.”

“Of course he will! You are living in a fool’s paradise.” His underlying threat made her quake. What did this devil have planned?

“Let’s see who deals the best with whom.” He pushed her through the door. “Hurry yourself. The hours pass and I am eager to spend time with you.”

Chapter Three

“I remember ’er right enough,” Countess Wallington’s groom said in answer to Marcus’ question. “Tempting armful, but seemed in a bit of a pelter!”

“In what way?”

“Fussing about she was, on the verge of the vapors.”

Then Beth wasn’t eager to be alone with this man. Or might she already have begun to regret her decision? “And the gentleman?” Marcus urged him.

“Didn’t give ’is name, but a swell of the first stare.” He scowled. “Tight fisted.”

“What about the coach?”

“Black it was, no crest on the door panel. Thought it odd that no groom or footman was with ’em. Just the coachman. Surly cove ’e was too.”

A liaison, Marcus thought, growing more uneasy by the minute. “What about the gentleman?” he prompted. “Remember anything about his appearance?”

The weary groom wiped his forehead with a cloth. “Fairish. Kind of looks the ladies love. Can’t remember much more, sir. Been a busy few hours what with ’alf the ton eager for their beds. Ain’t those who like to wait neither.”

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