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

it. I told you to do it before but you didn’t. I would have thought you would have yelled your head off. That you would have cursed me to hell and back. But you just tried to justify your violence on our wedding night. If that wasn’t rape, my lord, then I wonder what one would call it.” She raised her face then and stared up at him, her eyes so filled with pain that he flinched.

She watched him stride over to her. He stood over her, like a black silhouetted giant of a man, blocking the bright moonlight. She couldn’t bear to look at him. It hurt, horribly. She turned and fastened her gaze on the bank beside her, and waited.

“Damn you, Arabella, look at me.”

He was angry now, but she made no move to obey him. He dropped to his knees in front of her and grasped her shoulders, shaking her until she raised her eyes to his. “Now, you will listen to me, you rag-mannered shrew. How dared you serve your mother such a turn? Are you blind? Even the scullery maid doubtless knew that she and Dr. Branyon were in love.

Indeed, I expect he has loved her for a very long time.

“I admit that I expected their announcement to come a bit later, but it is of no importance. Life is too uncertain to be governed by ridiculous strictures. God knows, your mother deserves happiness. God knows, a good deal of the nineteen years she spent with your father were far from pleasant. Why, Arabella, why were you so unthinkingly cruel to her?” He saw flames of anger kindle slowly in her wintry eyes. “Why, damn you?” It was enough. It was too much. She jumped to her feet, shaking her fist in his face. “How dare you approve such a match? Even publicly proclaim your approval? You had no right, my lord, just as she has no right to betray my father! No, I had no idea that she had that kind of feeling for Dr. Branyon. I think her actions, as well as his, to be despicable. I will never speak to her again. As for Dr. Branyon, he is no longer welcome at Evesham Abbey. If she wants to disgrace herself and our name, then let her wed him and leave me alone.” She was panting now, bitter words spewing from her mouth. “Should I perhaps congratulate my dear mother for at least waiting for my father’s death? Just how long, my lord, do you think they have been lovers? Poor Father, cuckolded by a faithless wife and a man he trusted. God, were I a man I would kill him in a duel.”

He looked at her beautiful pale face, at the bitter fire in her gray eyes. So much pain and anger. He sought to understand her. He didn’t disbelieve what she had said, no, she had meant every word. She had spoken openly, bitterly of her mother cuckolding her father, and her rage at the belief that her mother had been unfaithful to her father could leave no doubt at the sincerity of her condemnation of such an act. Yet had she not herself taken a lover before they had married? Had not she cuckolded him? Had she some sort of strange morality that had allowed her to take a lover before she married? And, for that matter, had she willingly given up the comte after her marriage to him? He wanted to throw her own act in her face, demand that she explain to him. Yet he found that his anger was melting away at the misery of the woman behind the facade of destructive words.

No, he had to deal with her bitter despair over her mother first. He silenced his own questions, so many questions that rose in his throat. He masked his voice with calm authority, for he knew that she would despise any gentling emotion coming from him.

“That is enough now, Arabella. I want you to listen to me now. Will you do that?”

She stared at him as if he had two heads. He merely nodded as he said, “I find it extraordinary that I, who have known Lady Ann only in passing during the past several years, would swear upon my honor that she was never unfaithful to your father. Whereas you condemn her with a snap of your fingers. You see she is in love and you assume that she has bedded the good doctor for how many years? No, Arabella, do not turn away from me. Do you honestly believe that she would be capable of such a thing?” She gazed at him, still as stone, unspeaking.

“Very well. Though you do not wish to answer me, I will assume that you are at least thinking about what I’ve said. Now, to your father.” He paused. Should he tell her the truth? There was no choice, not now. Only if she knew the truth about her father could she be brought to find forgiveness for her mother. He said quietly, “Do you remember when we first met—by the fishpond the day your father’s will was read? I see you remember all too well. You cannot deny that you thought me your father’s bastard.”

“That isn’t at all the same and you know it. Don’t you dare throw that up to me.”

“Different? Are there different rules of conduct for a husband? He is free of the restraints that bind his wife? I will tell you, Arabella, your father’s marriage to Lady Ann was a sham. He wed her only for the huge dowry she brought to him. He spoke openly of his ‘bargain’ and laughed at his good fortune. Also, he thought nothing of openly parading his mistresses in front of her nose.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said, panting hard, her words coming out in short gasps. “Why, I should shoot my husband were he to do that to me.

That isn’t true. My father would never do