Lord Deverill's Heir, Catherine Coulter [the best motivational books .TXT] 📗

arrived. I spoke briefly to Arabella this evening. If naught else, I believe she begins to understand her father’s motives as well as my silence over the matter.

Still, it is difficult for her. It will be difficult for her for a long time, I fear.”

“You are a remarkable woman, Ann.”

“You are kind, but that isn’t true. Over the years I have become a very realistic woman, nothing more. Years of life do that to one, you know.

Perhaps it was wrong of the earl to wish to protect Arabella. You know how he felt.”

“Yes. If Arabella had known that there was an heir to the earldom, she would have been distressed.”

“An understatement.”

“Yes, her father thought and thought and worried. I remember him telling me that he couldn’t allow her to feel dispossessed.”

“Well, now it’s over. We will see what happens. Oh, Justin, what do you think of your new home?”

He laughed. “I feel daunted by such magnificence. I have never before in my life had more servants than I had relatives. Only this evening I noticed the truly vast number of gables and chimney stacks.” Lady Ann chuckled as a memory rose in her mind. “You must ask Arabella the exact number of gables. When she was only eight years old she came rushing into the library and proudly announced to her father that there were exactly forty gables on Evesham Abbey. She was such a sturdy little girl, her hair always a tumbled mess and her knees invariably scratched.

Oh, I don’t know but even then she was so full of life, so inquisitive.

Do forgive me, Justin. I do not mean to bore you. I cannot imagine why I thought of this. It was a long time ago.” The earl said brusquely, “That doesn’t matter. Anything you could tell me about Arabella could doubtless be of assistance. I do not believe that this marriage business is going to be an easy thing.”

“You are right about that. Now, if you really wish to hear this, very well. Back to Arabella’s forty gables. A short time later, her father sent her to Cornwall to visit her great-aunt Grenhilde. No sooner had she left than he commissioned carpenters and bricklayers to add another gable to the abbey. When Arabella returned and bounded into his arms, he held her away and said in the most stern voice you could imagine, ‘Well, my fine daughter, it seems that I will have to hire a special mathematics tutor for you! Forty gables indeed. You have disappointed me gravely, Arabella.’ She said not a word, slipped out of his arms, and was not to be seen for two hours. Her father was beginning to grow quite anxious, nearly to the point of berating himself, when the little scamp comes running in to him, completely filthy and utterly frazzled. She stood right in front of him, her little legs planted firmly apart, grubby hands on her hips, frowning, and said in the most scathing voice, ‘How dare you serve me such a trick, Father? I forbid you to deny it. I have brought your bricklayer to be my witness that before there were indeed forty gables.’ As I remember, from that day on the earl ceased to pine about not having a son. He kept Arabella with him constantly. Even in the hunt, he bundled her in front of him on his huge black stallion, and they would go tearing off at a speed that made my hair stand on end.” The earl grinned, then threw back his head and roared with laughter. “So are there forty or forty-one gables, Ann?”

“Under Arabella’s instructions, the earl had the forty-first gable removed. Such a little commander she was. Actually, she still is. It is part of her, Justin. It is something you will have to become accustomed to.”

The earl rose, stretched, and leaned against the mantelpiece, hands thrust into his pockets. “You’re right. I wonder if I will let her order me about? I never knew my mother, for she died birthing me, so there has never been a woman to order me to do this and that. I don’t believe I would allow her to do it, Ann. But we will see.” Lady Ann turned in her chair, her black silk skirts rustling softly.

“This forthright side of her—I believe it part of her charm. Poor George Brammersley, though, I fear her treatment of him sent the poor man to his room with a fierce headache.”

“Yes, well, just think of the shock to her, hearing her father’s conditions in his will.” He thought about his first meeting with Arabella earlier that morning, but said nothing of it. Perhaps that had been the greater shock.

“Well, this is progress indeed, Justin. Already you defend her high spirits.”

“High spirits, you say? Too pallid a description for your daughter’s dramatics. No, I should say rather that she has energy and resolution and, in addition, the sensibilities of a deaf goat.” What was there to say to that?

Arabella came down the great front stairs of Evesham Abbey the following morning feeling flattened. It wasn’t something she was used to. She hated it. Her situation, which she’d thought about it from every angle she could dredge up during the hours since she’d awakened at dawn, wasn’t enviable. She either had to leave Evesham Abbey or marry the new earl.

And, naturally, it was really quite simple. She knew in the deepest part of her that she could not leave her home. As for the new earl, she didn’t like him, didn’t want him around, didn’t want to speak to him, actually, didn’t even want him to exist, but she knew she would have to marry him.

So be it.

She walked through the large entrance hall, under the great arch, to a narrow corridor that led to the small breakfast parlor. Only she and her father ever breakfasted so early, and she looked forward now to being alone with her favorite strawberry jam and toast.

“Lady Arabella.”

Arabella turned, her hand