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

The earl laughed. “Come, Miss Talgarth, you paint us as uncaring fellows.

Surely we have our uses.” His eyes were on his wife. He wanted desperately for her to look at him. He would prove to her that he could please her, that he could make her laugh, make her eyes twinkle. He wanted to hear her shout and yell at him. He wanted everything in her.

Arabella said quietly, not looking at him, “You do not agree, then, my lord, that most gentlemen prefer their wives to remain quietly in the background, bearing their offspring, and unobtrusively working at their embroidery?”

The earl could not begin to imagine Arabella in the background of anything. She would always be right in front, directing, bellowing orders, laughing, yelling at him as well. He said, “I know you must be speaking metaphorically. I cannot imagine you embroidering for five minutes. You would become bilious. No, no needlework for you, Arabella.” Suzanne lifted her saucer in mock toast to the earl. “Quite true. Admit, Bella, his lordship has scored a point. Just yesterday during our ride, I could not hold you in conversation for much longer than five minutes.” Arabella looked first at the comte, then at Elsbeth, who was in quiet conversation with Lord Graybourn. Why hadn’t the dratted man come before the comte had? Damn his eyes. How could he have ever thought he could like Suzanne? But perhaps there was still a chance. Gervaise would be gone soon. Perhaps then Elsbeth would forget him. But she knew she couldn’t tell the earl. He wouldn’t believe her, but even if he did come to believe her, he would not treat Elsbeth well. She couldn’t begin to imagine what he would do.

Lady Ann said with a smile, “I have always admired Arabella’s energy, dear Aurelia. I have never known boredom. When I didn’t want to spank her little bottom I was laughing. Surely I was blessed. As were you with Suzanne. Such a bright, laughing, amusing girl. You must be very proud of her.”

Suzanne nearly dropped her teacup. She stared at Lady Ann. She had wished, at errant moments throughout her entire eighteen years, that Lady Ann could have been her mother. They would have dealt together so much better . . . well, perhaps not, but Arabella was her father’s daughter.

Just her father’s. There was nothing of Lady Ann in her.

“There is that,” Aurelia said obscurely, staring at her daughter as if she wanted to strangle her.

“You were blessed, Ann, with your offspring,” the earl said. “And now I will be blessed with my wife.” Arabella stared over at him wondering, Must I lie so you will come to admire me? Accept me?

Lord Graybourn said again to Elsbeth, “Will you go to London, my dear?”

“Not as yet, sir. I had thought to . . .” Elsbeth lapsed into silent embarrassment, her eyes flying to Lady Ann.

Lady Ann said with composure, “Our plans are at present rather uncertain, Lord Graybourn. But I do not doubt that Elsbeth will accompany us for an extended stay during the winter.”

“Oh, Bella, you are going up to London? What great sport. We will take the ton by storm. Ah, yes, there are some noses I want to tweak, and you will help me and we will laugh and scheme. That Lucia Applebaum is one.” There was a hint of defiance in Lady Ann’s calm voice. “No, Suzanne, I do not speak of Arabella. Elsbeth will accompany me and my husband to London.”

There was dead silence in the large chamber, until Lady Talgarth rocked back in her chair. Goodness, they’d come for a duty visit. She hadn’t even had the last lemon seed cake. But now that didn’t matter. She’d never expected anything so wonderfully juicy as this. “My dear Ann,” she said very carefully, unwilling to immediately accept her good fortune,

“whatever do you mean by that?”

The earl said, “Allow me, Ann, to give our happy news to Lady Talgarth.

We will shortly welcome Dr. Branyon into the family, ma’am. He and Ann plan to marry.”

“My congratulations, Lady Ann,” Lord Graybourn said, quite unaware he had waded into dangerous waters.

“I thank you, Lord Graybourn,” Lady Ann said, nodding to him. “Dr.

Branyon has been a dear and loyal friend of the Deverill family for countless years. And now he will be more. He will be my husband and Arabella’s step-papa.”

Lady Talgarth puffed herself up. “My dear Ann, surely you cannot mean it.

Why, how very odd of you. The man is a doctor, he is in trade, so to speak, even though it is sick people he trades in. It still isn’t what one would expect. I suppose he is a gentleman since his father was a squire in one of our remote counties, but he is a second son.” Mother and daughter drew together. Arabella turned to the incredulous Lady Talgarth and raised her black brows with the exact amount of arrogance her father would have used. “I daresay some might consider it odd, ma’am. I myself think that my mother is far too young and beautiful to remain a widow. Just look at her—everyone believes her to be my sister. As for Dr. Branyon, he is a gentleman, no matter what he chooses to do, and ever so handsome and kind. I will welcome him as my step-papa.

He will not only love me but he will ensure that I live until I am ninety—the benefit of having a physician for a step-papa.” Ah, it was well done. The earl was so pleased with her that he wanted to lift her out of her chair, kiss her, and carry her immediately up to their bedchamber. He wanted all those miserable clothes off her.

Damnation, he was forgetting, and he refused to do that. All right, so she had a reason for lying with the comte, but she had to tell him what it was. He realized that he was thinking the very same thoughts over and over again. He was boring even