The Heir

by Catherine Coulter

  “Arabella has never lied in her life.”

  “How little you know your daughter, Ann.”

  She slapped him as hard as she could. His head snapped back with the force of her blow. Her handprint was on his cheek. He said nothing, merely stared down at her.

  “You are wrong. Completely wrong,” she said, her back stiff as a board, her chin raised.

  He touched his fingers to his cheek. It stung. She was stronger than she looked. What to do about Arabella? His new home had become a battleground. Even Lady Ann, his soft-spoken, charming mother-in-law, had hit him. Was he the only one who believed Arabella guilty? God, were his affairs being discussed in the kitchen?

  Suddenly, the library door burst open and Arabella rushed into the room. She drew up short on the threshold, utter dismay flooding her face. She threw out her hands as if to ward them away from her. “Oh, I thought you were alone, my lord. But you’re not, are you. Not alone at all. Why would I think that? How are you, Mother?”

  “I am quite well, Arabella. Did you enjoy your ride with Suzanne? No, don’t answer that silly question. No, dearest, do not rush away, for I was just on the point of leaving. Justin, please consider what I have said. Perhaps we can speak of it again later.” This was something unexpected, Lady Ann thought, patting her daughter’s hand as she passed her, Arabella wanting to be alone with her husband.

  Suddenly Arabella grasped her mother’s hand and held it fast. The look on the earl’s face was forbidding. It struck her forcibly that Suzanne’s observation about Elsbeth and the comte might only serve to make her appear the more guilty in his eyes. If she had not been aware of the closeness between her half-sister and the comte, then most assuredly Justin would not have noticed. She wanted to strike out. Even now she read mistrust and condemnation in his eyes. She drew back, positioning herself closer to the door, behind her mother.

  “It wasn’t important. I’m sorry for having disturbed you, my lord, Mother. I have nothing to say, really. Nothing of any importance. I think I shall go to my room now. Yes, that is a good place to go.”

  “Wait, Arabella,” the earl said sharply as she turned to flee. Lady Ann was aware that Arabella was using her as s physical shield between her and her husband. She saw her daughter tense as the earl drew near to her. He pulled a key from his waistcoat pocket. “If you wish to go to the earl’s bedchamber, you will need this key.”

  Lady Ann had held her peace long enough. Her hand still burned from the blow she had struck on her son-in-law. “My dear child, first of all, I was just leaving. You did not interrupt us. Secondly, why ever, Justin, have you locked the earl’s bedchamber?”

  He shrugged. “I discovered loose floorboards about the room. I did not wish any of the servants to come to harm. Thus, until I have seen to repairs, I wish to keep the room locked. Here you are, Arabella.”

  Arabella grabbed the key from his outstretched hand, turned, and rushed from the room.

  “You have much to answer for,” Lady Ann said, looking at him straightly. “You have messed things up royally, Justin.”

  “Perhaps, but I don’t think so. Now, if you will excuse me, I really must pay my visit to Lord Talgarth. I shall consider what you have said.”

  “I doubt it. You are a man, and in my experience, you accept one belief and die with it before you will consider that you were possibly wrong. God, I hate the lot of you.” She turned, only to whirl about again, this time pointing her finger at him. “Arabella has never been afraid in her life. Yet I have seen her change since her marriage to you into a silent, withdrawn, even frightened girl. She has not tried to tell me what to do a single time since you’ve been married, and believe me, that is not like her at all. Oh yes, you wretched specimen, you have so much to answer for. Damn you.”

  This time she left the room. He stared after her for many minutes. Gentle, utterly guileless Lady Ann. She had become a tigress.

  He left for Talgarth Hall and stayed there for the remainder of the day.

  21

  Elsbeth loved the sweet smell of fresh-cut hay. The smell filled the barn, making her breathe in deeply and smile. She walked quickly to the stall in the far darkened corner of the barn. It had been at least a week since she had slipped away from Evesham Abbey to meet him here. Far too long. He hadn’t spoken to her of his masculine need for her since Josette’s death. She honored him for such noble sentiments. His sensitivity to her grief after her old servant’s tragic fall made him all the more precious to her.

  Yet as she spread her cloak upon the straw, smoothing the edges with loving hands, she frowned. She had sensed that during the past several days there was much on his mind. She even imagined now, even though she didn’t want to, that he had hesitated at her diffident offer to meet him here this afternoon. His slight pause before agreeing brought Suzanne Talgarth’s face to her mind. How she hated Suzanne. She knew that Suzanne wanted the comte. What woman could not? He was everything a woman could possibly want. Oh yes, Elsbeth was acutely aware of everyone’s feelings when they came close to him. Yes, Suzanne wanted him, the bitch. But he would not go to her, would he? Surely not, even though Suzanne was so gay and beautiful with her blond hair. No, he wouldn’t betray her.

  The week that she had not lain with the comte had served to nurture her romantic belief that their physical union was an exquisite proof of his love for her. She had even prayed that she would feel delight at the touch of his hands, moan when his lips touched her.

  She began to grow nervous as she waited in the dimly lit stall. Surely he must have been detained by a very pressing matter. She was on the point of rising to look out the front doors of the huge barn when she saw him slip silently into the stall.

  “Oh, my love, I was growing worried.” She threw her arms about him, pressing kisses to his throat, his shoulders, his chest. “Is there a problem? Did someone keep you overlong? It wasn’t Suzanne Talgarth, was it? She was trying to make you come to her? Tell me everything is all right.”

  The comte kissed the top of her head, then gently pushed her down onto the cloak.

  “What is this about Suzanne? If she tried, ma petite, to make me come to her, I would laugh in her face. I would tell her that I do not like the pink-and-white English girls with their bovine faces.”

  He dropped gracefully onto the cloak beside her, looking at her sweet face, at the besotted look in her almond-shaped eyes, eyes so like her mother’s. “No, dear Elsbeth,” he said, lightly stroking his fingers over her smooth cheek, “I was merely in conversation with Lady Ann. It would not have been polite to leave her abruptly.”

  She leaned forward and clasped her arms about his neck. She felt guilty at her doubts. She felt like a shrew because she had questioned him. She wasn’t worthy of him. Yet here he was, he had chosen her. She felt a light kiss touch her hair and waited for him to pull her into his arms. But he didn’t jerk her wildly against him. She waited. Nothing. She drew back, puzzled, her eyes growing darker in her worry. Surely after a week he should want her. Had Suzanne been at Evesham Abbey after all? Had he lied to her? No, she wouldn’t think that, not for a minute. She also wouldn’t think about the relief she felt that he wasn’t taking her clothes off.

  “What is wrong, my love?” she whispered against his neck. “What has happened to upset you?”

  He sighed, coming down onto his side, balancing himself on his elbow. “You are perceptive, Elsbeth. You see a lot.” He saw the pleasure his easy words gave her. She would be anything he wanted her to be, do anything he asked of her. At least he prayed it was so. He considered his next words carefully, saying at last, “You must know that the earl and I do not deal well together. His antipathy toward me grows daily. I believe if he could manage it, he would kill me. No, no, Elsbeth, it’s all right. I can deal with the earl. You know, I wonder why he hasn’t ordered me to leave, but he hasn’t. It is strange. I do not understand him nor do I understand this hatred he has for me. I have done him no ill.”

  Elsbeth could not help hers
elf. “Kill you, oh no! Surely that is going too far. Besides, you wouldn’t allow it. You are brave and strong and smart. He is nothing compared to you. You wouldn’t allow anyone to harm you. I hate him. What shall we do?”

  She believed everything she had said. So passionate she was. He had found himself wondering about that passion of hers, if perhaps he’d not seen her as she really was, but listening to her now, the passion in her was real, very real. And he knew that passion was the same in all things. He smiled at her. He could be sure of her now.

  She clutched at his sleeve. “He hates you because he is jealous of you, Gervaise, I know it. He sees that you are everything that he is not. He despises you for it. Oh God, what will we do?”

  Completely satisfied, the comte smiled a tender, slightly bitter smile, and said softly, “You are always so sensitive to the feelings of those around you, Elsbeth. Perhaps you are correct about the earl, perhaps there is something in him that makes him feel less the man when I am around. But it doesn’t matter. Evesham Abbey belongs to him. I am merely a guest. I can become uninvited anytime.” He shook away the pain of it, and took her small hands between his. “In any case, just a while ago he more or less ordered me to leave Evesham Abbey by the end of the week. Our time together grows short, my love.” The earl hadn’t really ordered him, but it had amounted to the same thing. He had merely asked Gervaise to the library, closed the door, faced him, saying finally, “You will wish to leave Evesham Abbey by the end of the week.” Nothing more, just that, for the longest time. And he had looked at Gervaise with that cold deadness in his eyes, his body perfectly still, and Gervaise had felt such an instant of fear, that he found he could not yet speak. “What? Not a word? You have nothing at all to say to me?”

  Still, Gervaise had said nothing, merely shrugged his shoulders.

  “There is a lot about you that offends me, comte. But I have allowed you to stay—for many reasons. But those reasons will resolve themselves very soon now. The end of the week. Now, leave me.”

  And that had been all that was said. Gervaise left the library, leaning against the wall when he was alone, hating himself because he had not told the earl that he was a coward, a bully, and not worthy to wear Gervaise’s boots. No, he had said nothing.

  “Yes,” he said now to Elsbeth, “our time grows short. I must be gone by the end of the week.”

  Elsbeth started forward. “Oh no, it cannot be so. Gervaise, I cannot let you go away from me. I have just found you and I won’t want to lose you. No, please.” Tears filled her eyes. She gulped, trying to control herself, but she couldn’t. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “It isn’t fair. Arabella has everything—truly, even if she doesn’t appear to enjoy what she has. Even Lady Ann is now her own mistress; she can do anything she wishes to. It’s only I who have been the supplicant all my life, the one outside, the one nobody wants. I can’t bear it. Please, I don’t want to be alone again.”

  He couldn’t bear it, this pain in her that colored everything she thought, everything she said. But he had no alternative. The comte gently flicked away the tears and said, “We must be brave, Elsbeth. This is, after all, the earl’s territory, as I told you. His decisions, whatever his motives may be, must govern the actions of those about him. In short, I have no choice in the matter.”

  “Did you not tell him that you didn’t wish to leave? Did you not tell him that you and I love each other and do not want to be separated?”

  “I did,” the comte said, without an instant of hesitation, “but he did not care. As I said, I believe he hates me.”

  Elsbeth sagged to her knees. She had lost Josette, and now she could lose Gervaise as well. “I know,” she said, suddenly hope filling her, “I will speak to the earl. Perhaps he will listen to me. He has been very kind to me since he arrived here. Actually, he has been kinder to me than he has to Arabella, and she is his wife. No, I shall speak with Lady Ann, for she, I know, loves me. I will tell her of our love, that we wish to wed as soon as possible, that I shall die of unhappiness if you are forced to leave me.”

  He knew momentary panic at the thought of her speaking either to the earl or to Lady Ann. She could ruin everything through her stupidity and ignorance. He had to make her understand. He had to control her. “Listen to me, Elsbeth. As I said, I already told the earl of our feelings for each other. Doubtless he will tell Lady Ann. But don’t you see? It doesn’t matter. He does not want you to be with me and thus, he will convince Lady Ann of his opinion. Ah, my little one, I forbid you to demean yourself in such a fashion.” He grasped her slender arms and shook her. “No, that is not the way. Listen to me, Elsbeth, we will make other plans. You will accompany Lady Ann to London when her period of mourning is over. I will meet you there and we will flee together. It will be as nothing for us to do. I will take you to Bruxelles.”

  The misery fell from her face at his words. Her eyes filled with excitement. “Oh, my dearest love, it is a fine plan. I know that you can do anything. How romantic it will be. With my ten thousand pounds, we shall not have to worry about anything. You are so very clever, Gervaise, you will wisely invest it and make us terribly rich.”

  He was satisfied. Now, at least, he need have no further worries about Elsbeth.

  Suddenly her eyes dimmed. “But, Gervaise, Lady Ann will not wish to go to London for another six months. Must we be parted for such a long time? No, I cannot bear it. Say there is another way.”

  The comte snapped his fingers. “We have spent years without knowing each other, what is a mere six months? You will see, little cousin, that the time will fly.”

  She sensed he was growing impatient with her. She said quickly, “I suppose you are right, but allow me to say that I will miss you terribly.”

  “And I you.” He nodded, pleased.

  He prepared to rise. She took him off his guard when she grabbed his hand and cried, “Please stay with me now. It has been so very long, since before Josette died. Stay with me. I want you, truly I do.”

  He was stunned. The thought of making love to her—no, it was impossible. It was beyond impossible. It made his stomach clench. But he couldn’t tell her, no. He tried to find calm, to speak gently yet firmly, to cloak the bitterness that gnawed at his guts. “Elsbeth, listen to me. I don’t think we should meet like this again. The earl knows about us since I told him. He might become even more vicious. He might order me to leave before the end of the week. I don’t want to leave you until I am forced to. Thus, we must take care now. No more meetings here, Elsbeth. No, don’t cry. You know that taking you gives me great pleasure, but it would be fatal to our plans were we to be discovered or even suspected. Surely you must realize that. We must think of the future.”

  Elsbeth was so caught up in the tragic vision of her and Gervaise being torn from each other that the gift of her body now seemed to be her ultimate pledge of her faith and love. Passion flowed through her. “Just one last time, then, Gervaise. Hold me and love me just this last time.”

  The urgency in her voice, the passion shining from her dark eyes stirred revulsion in him—not at her—but at himself. Yet he could not let her doubt him. He forced himself not to pull away from her. He clasped her slender shoulders, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against hers.

  In her frantic desire to secure their final moments together, to lock them forever in her mind, Elsbeth forgot her fear and felt an exquisite tremor of desire sweep through her at his touch.

  He felt cold, benumbed, and when her lips parted against his, he could bear it no longer. He jerked away from her and rose shakily to his feet. “Elsbeth, oh God, I cannot. No, don’t be hurt, it’s not that I don’t want you.” He tried to calm his voice, to reassure her. “I cannot, my little cousin. I have promised to ride with Arabella. Surely, you can see that if I am late, she might suspect. We must be brave, Elsbeth. The end to all this will come soon, I promise you. You must trust me. Can you do that?”

  “But, Gervaise—yes, I trust you.” He would not change his mind. Sh
e knew him well enough. She nodded slowly. Those wondrous feelings that had scored through her, they were gone now. She wondered if they had existed or if she had simply conjured them up in her pain.

  Before he left the stall, he kissed her lightly, passionlessly, on the cheek. She read intense sadness in his gentle gesture. She held back her tears until he was gone from her.

  Lady Ann lifted her booted foot and allowed the groom to toss her into the saddle. “Thank you, Tim,” she said as she adjusted the folds of her riding skirt becomingly about her legs. “I do not need you to accompany me, I am riding to Dr. Branyon’s house. Tulip, here, knows the way very well.”

  Tim tugged respectfully at the shock of chestnut hair at his forehead and stepped back as Lady Ann flicked the reins on her mare’s neck. Tulip broke into a comfortable canter down the front drive.

  The frown that Lady Ann had momentarily banished in the presence of the groom now returned to crease her forehead. She drew a deep breath of fresh country air and pulled Tulip in to a more sedate pace. The mare snorted her gratitude. “You are like me, you old lazy cob,” she said half aloud. “You stay comfortably in your pleasant stall and regard with a jaundiced eye anyone who disturbs your pleasure.”

  Lady Ann had not ridden in months. She knew that her leg muscles would protest in the morning. But even aching muscles did not seem important at the moment. She felt so very helpless and frustrated, her anger at Justin from the day before turned to despair. Evesham Abbey was a cold, immense, and empty tomb, and she found she could not bear it another moment. Justin was gone off somewhere, Arabella was very probably also riding, but her destination would be any place that took her as far as possible from her husband. As for Elsbeth and the comte, Lady Ann had not seen either of them since lunch.