The Heir

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The Heir Page 28

by Catherine Coulter


  “I have always believed you were a baggage, Miss Talgarth,” the earl said.

  Lady Talgarth cleared her throat. Her massive bosom trembled. “We are here,” she said in a ringing voice, “to invite you to a card party tonight, with dancing naturally for the young people. Even though you and Arabella are married, you must still be considered young, so I imagine that you would enjoy dancing. As for you, my dear Ann, I suppose that you must come also. Dr. Branyon as well. He is my husband’s physician, as you know. Hector thinks highly of him. Yes, he must attend as well, there is no hope for it, no matter what one would wish. However, there is no call for you to dance, since you are a mother of a grown woman and a fairly recent widow.”

  “No indeed,” Lady Ann said without hesitation. “What a wonderful idea. Why, I do believe, dear Aurelia, that you can give me advice on my wedding trousseau.”

  “I would know nothing of such things.”

  “Mama, of course you would. Did you not wed Papa before you birthed me?”

  “Suzanne! Mind your tongue or I will tell your father!”

  “Do tell him in front of Lord Graybourn, all right? Please, Mama?”

  When the earl led Lady Talgarth to the carriage, Arabella tugged at Suzanne’s sleeve. “However did you bring your mother around?”

  “Well, it wasn’t difficult at all, Bella. Papa and Dr. Branyon have been friends for too many years to allow such silliness to sour their acquaintance. Of course, I slipped in that Dr. Branyon was, after all, her doctor as well. ‘Why, Mama,’ I said, ‘whatever would happen if you became ill? Why, there would be no one about to prescribe for you. After all, you could not expect Dr. Branyon to want to see you fit and well if you insulted his lady wife, now would you?’ She quite came around at that point. Am I not a veritable Socrates? Or do I want to be a Solomon? It is difficult, these sorts of decisions. And these were men, after all. What could they possibly know?”

  Arabella just stared at her lifelong friend. “You terrify me, Suzanne. That was just excellent.”

  “Well, Mama doesn’t want to be ostracized, you know. She isn’t stupid. She will come around completely once Lady Ann does the deed.”

  Then it struck her. A card party with dancing would be perfect. It was the comte’s last evening here. What better way to keep him from Elsbeth?

  Suzanne kissed Arabella quickly on the cheek, then turned to the earl. She smiled at him pertly, then held out her hand.

  The earl looked faintly amused. He took her hand and carried it to his lips. He said, “Do not wed Lord Graybourn, Miss Talgarth. You would send the poor fellow stuttering off a cliff. No, you need a gentleman who will beat you daily and tell you jests. You must also remember that Arabella is as fierce as a tiger. If you continue with your outrageous remarks, she just might challenge you to a duel. She is very accomplished, Miss Talgarth. I am a caring fellow. I warn you for your own good.”

  Suzanne tossed her blond curls and smiled impishly at Arabella. “Oh, Bella is far too certain of her own accomplishments to ever be concerned about mine. She would never hurt me, she would see no need. She would just laugh and tell me to hie myself off to buy a new pair of gloves.”

  Suzanne gave a trill of laughter and moved with Arabella to the door. She confided in a carrying voice, “Do you know that Mama absolutely refused to allow poor Lord Graybourn to accompany us this morning? As I said, she isn’t stupid. She knows that he is taken with Elsbeth.” A look of rather morbid satisfaction crossed her face. “I daresay it would serve her right. First you catch an earl, and now Elsbeth seduces my eligible suitor from right under my nose.”

  “As if you cared,” the earl said as he gave Miss Talgarth a salute, then turned away. It amused him to realize that Lady Talgarth was the one to provide him with the perfect solution, a final test of the comte’s greed. This was Gervaise’s last chance and the earl knew he would take it. He met Arabella’s eyes. She knew it as well.

  It was over luncheon that the earl informed the others of the invitation.

  “I was pleased,” Lady Ann said, waving her fork at him. “I never believed she would come around. But it is pleasant, is it not, to have neighbors to care for you?”

  “Ann,” the earl said, “you are too gullible, too forgiving. It frightens me.”

  “No,” she said easily, spearing a thin sliced piece of ham on her fork, “not at all. The old witch knows what is what. She has had to swallow her ridiculous antiquated notions, and it quite makes me want to laugh.”

  “Mama, you astound me. You really said that, didn’t you? And you look so very sweet.”

  “Yes, dear, I know.” She ate another piece of ham and smiled at all of them impartially.

  Arabella saw a series of rather mixed emotions flit across Elsbeth’s face and wondered what her sister was thinking. While Arabella was looking at Elsbeth, the earl’s eyes were upon Gervaise’s finely chiseled features. He was certain that he saw a momentary darkening in the young man’s eyes, then a slight smile of satisfaction about his mouth.

  Yes, you bastard, the earl was thinking. You make your plans for tonight. Then I’ll have you. The expression was gone in the next instant, and Gervaise’s face was wreathed in smiles of innocent anticipation for a simple evening’s pleasure.

  After the ladies discussed at some length the appropriate gowns to be worn for the evening, the earl sat back in his chair and said easily, his face filled with bonhomie, “We are now blessed with the sun. Since it is the comte’s last day with us, why don’t you ladies take him for a final outing around the countryside?”

  Elsbeth felt a tug of surprise. Arabella patted her hand and said, “That is an excellent idea. Indeed, I believe we shall stop by Talgarth Hall and invite Suzanne and perhaps Lord Graybourn to accompany us. What do you think, Gervaise?”

  “I only ask that you keep your distance from the old abbey ruins,” Lady Ann said, waving her fork at her daughter.

  “I have promised, Mama,” Arabella said. “No more ruins for me.” She smiled toward her husband.

  Lady Ann blinked. Thank God, she thought, thank God. They had worked things out. Justin no longer believed that the comte was her lover. But who was? Or had he been utterly deluded? She chanced to look at Elsbeth. She very nearly dropped her fork. Her stepdaughter was looking at Gervaise with her heart in her eyes. Oh dear, Lady Ann thought. Oh dear. It couldn’t be true, could it? But then she realized that it had to be true.

  And both Arabella and Justin knew. What was she to do? She wished Paul was here right now, right at this very instant.

  With only the slightest of hesitation Gervaise replied gallantly, “I would be most delighted to be in the company of three such lovely ladies. And you, my lord? Will you also accompany us?”

  “Unfortunately,” the earl said as he swirled the deep red wine about in its crystal glass, “I must remain here. The carpenters are here again to see to those loose floorboards in the master suite.”

  Without pause, Gervaise said, “It is I who will have the enjoyable afternoon, my lord.”

  “I trust so,” the earl replied pleasantly. “Since you are leaving on the morrow.”

  The estate carpenter thought it rather odd to spend his afternoon pounding useless nails into the solid floor of the earl’s bedchamber, but he said nothing.

  When the earl entered his bedchamber near to teatime, ostensibly to inspect the carpenter’s work, he cheerfully praised the now overly secure floorboards.

  “Actually, my lord,” Turpin said, scuffing the toe of his boot on one of the over-nailed boards, “there was very little to be done. Of course, what there was to be done, I did an excellent job, as you would expect, as I would expect from myself.”

  The earl smiled at him. “I agree, Turpin. Here is a guinea for your labor.”

  Turpin accepted the undeserved piece of gold, gathered his tools, and made his way after the earl from the grand suite. He would never understand the Quality, never.

  Lady Ann tracked the earl down in th
e estate room. “Justin, I would speak to you, if you don’t mind.”

  He set down the ledger, giving her a guilty grin. “Please, Ann, do come in and speak all you want. I admit that I have read this page three times now and still have not gathered together a correct total. I miss Arabella. I can see clearly that she will save my wits in the future.”

  “I just realized at luncheon that you and Arabella have come together. I am more pleased than I can say. It was also evident that both of you have guessed then that it is the comte and Elsbeth, not the comte and my daughter.”

  He gently laid his quill down on the desk. “I would have spoken to you, Ann. Your daughter has forgiven me my stupidity, my blindness. She has told me that since I am her other half that not to forgive me would be the same as not forgiving herself. It is a logic that isn’t all that logical to me, but since I am the beneficiary of the logic, then I readily accept it.

  “I love your daughter, Ann. I would give my life for her. I will spend the remainder of my days on this earth making up for my mistake.” His smile widened. “I doubt not that Arabella will see that my nose is often rubbed in the dirt.”

  “Tell me how you came to believe that she deceived you in the first place.”

  And he did. All of it, not sparing himself. “I was a fool, yet I was so very certain because of what I had seen.”

  “Did Arabella tell you that she has what I called her private place in the barn? She would go there even when she was a young child when she was unhappy, when she was furious with her father or with me, when she was uncertain what to do. She obviously went there the day before your wedding because she wanted to think about how her life would change.

  “It is a pity that you were there and saw her. It is more a pity, indeed it is a tragedy that Elsbeth is Gervaise’s lover. I don’t know what to do about that, Justin. Obviously you and Arabella have discussed it.”

  “Yes, but neither of us is really thinking about it until, well, until after the comte leaves.”

  “Why did Gervaise come here, Justin?”

  “You know more than you are telling, don’t you, Ann?”

  “Oh no. It’s just that there are so many mysteries, so many unanswered questions, indeed, so many questions that have never been asked. I don’t trust Gervaise. I would like to know why you have allowed him to remain.”

  But the earl just shook his head. He wasn’t about to tell Ann that he and Arabella wanted the comte to make his move tonight. He didn’t want to worry her. Also, he didn’t want her to take matters into her own small white hands. He didn’t know if the mother was possibly as unpredictable as the daughter. No, he wouldn’t take the chance. “You and I can discuss it perhaps tomorrow, Ann. When Paul is here. Is that all right?”

  “You’re lying to me,” she said, sighing. She rose, shaking out her primrose skirts. “I am pleased that you and Arabella have mended your fences. As to the rest of it, well, I will speak to Paul, you may be certain of that. If he comes after you tonight at the Talgarths’, you will know what he wants, Justin.”

  “Yes, I’ll know,” the earl said.

  30

  When everyone arrived back late in the afternoon from their explorations, Arabella immediately excused herself and went to the earl’s suite. She eyed the floorboards and grinned. While Grace was fetching her bath, Arabella restlessly paced her room. Where was her husband?

  He strode into the huge bedchamber while she was singing a high G at the top of her lungs in her bathtub.

  “If I weren’t looking at you, I would believe that I had a screeching magpie in my bedchamber. Goodness, Arabella, did you not have voice lessons?”

  “You’re back! Where have you been?” She realized that he was staring pointedly at her breasts, and waved her hand at him. “Look at my face or you will make me blush like the maiden I was until just a short time ago. Yes, that’s better. No, you’re still staring at me. All right, my lord.” She stood up, sending the water sloshing over the sides of the tub.

  “Oh my God.”

  She grabbed the towel off the stool beside the tub and quickly held it in front of her.

  “I wish you hadn’t done that,” he said, disappointment stark in his voice. He sounded almost as if he wanted to cry. “Perhaps you would consider dropping that towel? You’re beautiful. Do we have time before we must dress for dinner? Ten minutes would suffice, maybe less. Indeed, much less.”

  She stared at him. “You want me? Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, actually, it is very likely that I could also be wanting you, very much, right at this very moment. You say less than ten minutes?”

  She dropped the towel, looked at him and said, “Justin. The thought of ten minutes or less with you makes me shake. A full night would make me shake harder, but I shan’t quibble. One takes what one can get when one can get it.”

  “I love your brain. Yes, let’s do—”

  There was a knock on the bedchamber door. “My lady?” It was Grace.

  Arabella grabbed the towel from at her feet. “Damn,” she said. “Oh damn. It’s Grace.” She wagged her finger at her husband. “You will come back very soon and tell me what you found this afternoon in the comte’s room.”

  He gave her a small salute, his voice filled with a wealth of sorrow. “I would rather you dropped that towel for me again.” He sighed deeply and laid his palm over his heart. He turned on his heel and disappeared through the adjoining door.

  She was seated in front of her dressing table, Grace behind her arranging a dark blue ribbon through her black hair, when the earl reappeared, a black jewelry box in his hand.

  “Ah,” he said, “you haven’t yet selected a necklace for that gown.” The gown in question was a pale silvery gray, quite flattering, and Arabella hated it for what it represented. At least it wasn’t black.

  “No,” she said, eyeing him in the mirror, “I haven’t picked anything.” She looked at that jewelry box in his hand. Slowly, very slowly, teasing her, he opened it, but held it away from her. “Your father told me to give this to you after we were married. He said it belonged to his grandmother, that he had never given it to either of his wives. He said that it was to be yours.” The earl held it out to her.

  Arabella sucked in her breath. It was a three-strand necklace of perfectly matched pale pink pearls. There were earrings and a bracelet to match. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. She fingered the pearls, pressing them into her palm. They felt warm to the touch. “Ah, Justin, put them on me.”

  He leaned down, kissed the nape of her neck, ignoring Grace who was quite interested in this connubial behavior, and fastened the pearls around her neck. Arabella looked at herself in the mirror. “I had hated the gray gown until just this moment,” she said.

  “And now?”

  “The pearls—they make it seem to glisten. It’s amazing. The pearls are nearly as beautiful as you, my lord. Thank you.”

  She heard Grace sigh, and added, “Naturally, the earrings are far more intriguing than you could ever be, but nonetheless, there is still the bracelet. Regardless of where you fall in the spectrum, you are still adequate.”

  She was laughing as she turned around. “Grace, thank you for your help. Please excuse his lordship and me. We are newly wedded and thus are quite silly. His lordship has convinced me it is a requirement of persons not married longer than twenty years.”

  “I believe I said forty years.”

  Grace didn’t want to leave, that was obvious, but as Arabella just kept looking at her, she was forced to curtsy and quit the bedchamber, her footfall heavy.

  The earl laughed, leaned down, and kissed Arabella’s neck again. “Are you certain they are as beautiful as I am?” he whispered, then lightly bit her neck.

  She leaned back against him. “I don’t wear so many clothes. It would be simple, but—”

  He eased his hands down her bodice. Her flesh was warm and soft and he thought he’d never survive the assault. “No,” h
e said. “No, there isn’t time. Actually two minutes would be enough, but then you would disdain me because I was a pig.” Slowly, he lifted his hands out of her gown. His palms tingled. He managed to draw away from her, but it was difficult. It was late and he knew it, dammit. “Put on the bracelet and earrings. We must go downstairs, curse the lateness and the heavens.”

  She giggled, a perfectly delightful sound to her husband. He closed his eyes a moment, breathing in her particular woman scent, listening to that giggle. They were so much alike—two stubborn mules—and yet so wonderfully different from each other. Thank God.

  It wasn’t until they were all seated in the Deverill carriage that Arabella realized she didn’t know if Justin had found anything of significance in Gervaise’s bedchamber. Nor did she know if he had made any plans this evening.

  It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t let the comte out of her sight this evening. Her eyes were slits as she gazed across the narrow space at him, seated next to Lady Ann, Elsbeth on her other side. It was well done of her mother to keep them separated. Obviously, Arabella thought, her mother now knew the lay of the land. She well imagined that her mother was as filled with questions as she was.

  Talgarth Hall was a low, rambling mansion in the Georgian style, erected by the father of the present Lord Talgarth. A mere upstart mushroom, Arabella’s father had once remarked as he gazed upon his own awesome mansion, Evesham Abbey. Still, to be fair, it was a lovely house, rendered more so on this moonlit night by the bright candlelight shining through its myriad sparkling windows, lighting the carriages of the local gentry in attendance. Roaring flambeaux were held by a score of footmen, most of which had been hired in for the occasion, Suzanne had told Arabella that afternoon behind her hand, giggling. “Mama,” she had told Arabella, “had to instruct them first what flambeaux were—most of them thought it was some sort of dish to eat—and then what they were to do with them.”

  With a flourishing bow, the earl opened their carriage door and solicitously assisted each lady to alight. Arabella was the last, and as Justin took her hand, her fingers tightened about his.

 

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