Lord Deverill's Heir by Catherine Coulter (best books to read all time .TXT) 📗

Lord Graybourn took in the earl’s disheveled appearance and the suffering in his eyes as he rose hurriedly from his seat beside Elsbeth. “Do forgive my intrusion, my lord. I had thought to stay with Lady Elsbeth for a brief while—to lighten her anxiety.” The earl did not have to force a smile. He was delighted the man was here. He was a good man, one who was caring. “You are very welcome, sir.

I think it kind of you to take Elsbeth’s mind off her sister.” He turned as he spoke and gazed at Elsbeth with new vision, the vision Lady Ann had given him. She was right—there was none of the child left. There was a contained young woman seated on that settee, looking calmly at him. He wondered if he would miss the innocence of her, the childish gaiety she had displayed on occasion. If so, it was a pity, but life had a way of balancing the scales. Only time would tell. And perhaps Lord Graybourn.

He crossed to her and took her hands in his. “Arabella is sleeping soundly. She is made of stern stuff, you know, Elsbeth. She will come around.”

She nodded, only a moment of pained dullness showing on her face. She said calmly, “Did you know that Dr. Branyon is upstairs with Arabella and Lady Ann?”

“No, I didn’t know.”

“He stepped in to tell me that Gervaise had died. Dr. Branyon said there hadn’t been much hope, that he had lost too much blood.”

“It is over then.” The earl felt a moment of sadness for the waste of a young man’s life. Greed was the very devil.

“Yes, it is over. I am sorry that he is dead, but perhaps he deserved to die for shooting Arabella.”

“The shot was aimed for me, Elsbeth. Arabella saved my life.”

“Elsbeth,” Lord Graybourn said, moving swiftly to seat himself beside her. “I don’t wish you to tire yourself. Should you care for some more tea, perhaps?”

The earl did not wait to hear Elsbeth’s reply. Gervaise had died. He couldn’t find another moment of pain, not really. the man had nearly destroyed their lives. He quickly strode from the Velvet Room and back to the earl’s bedchamber.

“Ah, Justin, you are here.” Paul Branyon straightened beside Arabella.

“She has no fever. She is breathing slowly and smoothly. If there continues to be no fever, she will recover quickly.” The earl sagged where he stood. “I was scared to death. For the first time though, I believe you.”

“Good. Oh, incidentally, Gervaise is dead.”

“Yes, Elsbeth told me.”

“There is something else.” Dr. Branyon reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the emerald necklace. “I removed these from the comte’s jacket pocket.” He tossed them to Justin, who just stood looking down at them overflowing the palm of his hand.

“Bloody damned things,” he said. “If only I had said something sooner, perhaps it would have made the difference, but I didn’t tell Gervaise the truth. No, I strung him along, mocked him, and look what happened.”

“What truth, Justin?” Lady Ann asked. “What are you talking about?” Before the earl could answer, there was a gentle, almost childlike moan from Arabella.

“She never got the fever,” Dr. Branyon said with a good deal of satisfaction. He wasn’t about to tell her that he also was so relieved he’d sworn good deeds for the remainder of his days. “Yes, it is just as I told you, Ann, she has the constitution of a horse.” He had just changed the bandage, nodded his approval, and straightened to wash his hands in the basin that the earl held out for him.

“A horse, you say, sir? You don’t even allow me to be a mare? A pretty filly?”

“Not you, Bella, and be grateful for it. Now, of course, don’t mistake.

It was I who brought you through it, not all by myself, for Justin was here occasionally, wringing his hands, and your mother sometimes stuck her head in and asked me how you were.” Arabella actually managed to laugh. “You are too outrageous to be my step-papa,” she said, and took Justin’s hand. She pulled him down to sit beside her on the bed. “Did you really just visit me occasionally? Did you really wring your hands? Just a bit?”

“At least once a day for a good five minutes,” he said as he leaned down and kissed her mouth. “The same with the hand wringing.” She raised her hand to touch his face, remembered that her mother and soon-to-be stepfather were standing just beyond Justin, and let her hand drop back to the cover. “It’s good to be alive. Thank all of you very much. How is Elsbeth?”

“She is doing very well now that she is convinced you’re on the mend,” Lady Ann said. “Don’t worry about her, Arabella. Everything that should have been said to her has been and anything that didn’t have to be said, wasn’t.”

The earl whistled. “That was very convoluted, Ann. It says a great deal for my intelligence that I gleaned your meaning.”

“I’m relieved,” Arabella said. In the next minute, she was asleep.

“So relieved,” the earl said, “that she dropped off to sleep on us.”

“Justin, really. You are being quite ridiculous. I am certainly strong enough to walk across the bedroom.” Arabella’s protest didn’t appear to have any result at all. He just grinned down at her and kept walking to the comfortable settee that he had moved to beside the window. It was a sunny afternoon, thank the beneficent God.

“There, madam,” he said, gently easing her down. He plumped her pillow.

He drew a light afghan over her legs to her waist. She was wearing a seductive peach silk peignoir that he had very carefully eased her into.

She had no idea how it made her look. He took a very deep steadying breath and said, “Did I tell you yet today that you are incredibly beautiful?”

“Yes, this morning, first thing when I opened my eyes. But I thought you were