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

Lady Talgarth wanted to box Arabella’s ears when Suzanne said, taking Lady Ann’s hands in hers, “I think it’s marvelous, Lady Ann. Dr. Branyon is a good man and besides, he cured me of some vile illness when I was a little girl. My father would have given him the moon if he could. Ah, and now Dr. Branyon is effectively treating my father’s gout. Besides, you are used to being your own mistress. I, for one, would remove to a tent if I had to live in Bella’s household. She is really quite frightening. I begin to feel sorry for the earl until I see how he reduces her to delightful silence.”

“That is certainly more than enough,” Arabella said. “You have torn up my character and consigned the pieces to the four winds. I thank you.” Lady Ann said calmly, “That is surely enough about my affairs. Lord Graybourn, how long do you make your stay? I understand your destination is Brighton.”

Lord Graybourn hastened to say, “I had intended to stay only a day or two, my lady. But the kindness of my hostess”—he looked hearteningly at Lady Talgarth—“as well as the hospitality you have extended to me, makes me hopeful that I shall be asked to remain for a few days longer.” The viscount’s eyes rested momentarily upon Elsbeth. The comte wanted to kill the man. So did Lady Talgarth. Suzanne grinned from ear to ear. As for the earl, he was looking at his wife, whose teacup was shaking a bit in her hand. Why was that?

Lady Talgarth rose from her chair amid yards of rustling lavender silk and tapped her fan against her hand until the gentlemen had also risen.

She drew an audible breath and frowned, not at Lady Ann or Arabella, but at Elsbeth. She then cast a look fraught with meaning at Suzanne, one that promised full reckoning.

Suzanne, well used to her mother’s touchy humors, just shook her head, smiled, rose, and gave Lady Ann a quick hug. “I see that our visit is ended, Lady Ann. Please accept my congratulations. I am very happy for you.”

“Of course, my dear.” Lady Ann gave a gracious smile to Lady Talgarth.

“We most enjoyed making the acquaintance of Lord Graybourn, Aurelia. You are, needless to say, most welcome at Evesham Abbey at any time.”

“Indeed, my dear Ann, I cannot recall when I spent a morning that was more enlightening. Surely not any time in the recent past. But there were not enough seed cakes.” She gave her daughter a sour look. “I daresay we will, however, be far too occupied to bring Lord Graybourn to visit again. You will certainly understand.”

Lady Ann merely nodded. One neighbor down, she thought, but she didn’t care, not one whit.

“Come, dear Edmund,” Lady Talgarth said with unnecessary force.

He managed to move with moderate speed to her side. He smiled at everyone, a rather nice smile, Elsbeth thought, and bid his good-byes.

No sooner had Crupper bowed their visitors from the Velvet Room than Arabella collapsed on the sofa and burst into laughter. “I would have wagered that the old bat would burst her seams. It was excellent, just excellent. I had not dreamed to be so amused.” Lady Ann sighed. “I suppose that she had to be told, sooner or later. The poor viscount, really a quite unexceptionable young man, it was a pity he had to be here when she was told.”

The earl remarked from his post by the fireplace, “I wouldn’t care to be in the viscount’s boots. I doubt the rest of his visit will be very pleasant. In any case, the poor fellow is quite unsuited to the dashing Miss Talgarth.” His gaze rested for a moment on Elsbeth. He then said to his wife, his voice soft as butter, “If you are over your giggles, would you like some luncheon?”

The earl’s look had plummeted Elsbeth into a pit of guilt. How very fickle of her to think Lord Graybourn a charming man, to believe that his sensibilities were quite in tune with her own. She found that she tended to avoid her cousin’s eyes at the dining table. She thought his unkindness to the viscount uncivil and not at all the way a proper gentleman should behave. Her displeasure at his behavior made her uneasy.

The cold slices of ham did not sit well in her stomach.

As for Gervaise, he was of the cynical opinion that the damned English were all the same. He had merely joined in what he had thought to be an English game of showing up the fat viscount, for a fool that he was, and just look at what they had done—drawn their ranks together against him, the French outsider. Even Elsbeth had sided against him. He managed to hide his displeasure, for there was much he had to accomplish today. At the close of luncheon, he managed to place himself next to Arabella.

“My dear countess,” he said with all the charm in his repertoire, which was considerable, “I feel you have not paid me the attention I deserve. I am bereft.”

Both Elsbeth and the earl were staring at the both of them. Arabella wanted to send her fist into the comte’s face. What was Justin thinking?

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She finally managed to say, “I am newly married, comte. Surely that gives me a good reason for not giving everyone all the attention they feel they deserve. If you are bereft, I am, of course, sorry for it.”

“Perhaps,” the comte said, “it is I who have not paid you enough attention. As you know, I must take my leave in but two days. If your husband could spare you, I should delight in having you show me more of your beautiful English countryside. Please do not deny me this.”

“I can spare her, but I do not do it willingly,” the earl said, and Arabella thought