Текст книги "The Heir"

Автор книги: Grace Burrowes

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

“Then why does she keep turning him down?” Val said reasonably. “His efforts to woo her would be an embarrassment, were I not convinced he has the right of it.”

“I don’t know.” Dev rubbed his chin and glanced at the window. “This whole business makes no sense, and I am inclined—odd as it might sound—to hear what His Grace has to suggest.”

“I agree.” Val sighed, closing the desk drawer with a bang. “Which only underscores that Westhaven isn’t making one damned bit of sense.”

In the less than two days that remained to them, the earl and Anna were in each other’s pockets constantly. They sat side by side in the back gardens, on the library sofa, or at breakfast. When Dev and Val joined them for meals, they affected a little more decorum, but their eyes conveyed what their hands and bodies could not express. Anna was again sleeping upstairs, and the earl was again joining her at the end of each day.

The earl drew a brush down the length of her dark hair. “I have asked Dev and Val to escort you to Their Graces tomorrow, Anna.”

“I see. You are otherwise occupied.”

“I will be. I think you will enjoy my mother’s hospitality, and my sisters will love you.”

“Morgan adores them,” Anna said, her smile brittle. “Mourning has left them in want of company, and Morgan is lonely, as well.”

“And you, Anna.” The earl’s hand went still. “Will you be lonely?”

She met his eyes in the mirror above the vanity, and he saw hunger there. A hunger to match his own.

“I am lonely now, Westhaven.” She rose and turned. “I am desperately lonely, for you.” She pressed her lips to his, the first they’d kissed in weeks, and though his arms came around her briefly, he was the first one to step back.

“Anna, we will regret it.”

“I will regret it if we don’t,” she replied, her expression unreadable. “I understand, Westhaven, I must leave tomorrow, and in a way it will be a relief, but…”

“But?” He kept his expression neutral, but his breathing was accelerated from just that brief meeting of lips. And what did she mean, leaving him would be a relief?

“But we have this night to bring each other pleasure one last time,” she said miserably. “What difference can it make how we spend it?”

He had been asking himself that same question for days and giving himself answers having to do with honor and respect and even love, but those answers wouldn’t address the pure pain he saw in Anna’s eyes.

“I do not want to take advantage of you,” he said. “Not again, Anna.”

“Then let me take advantage of you,” Anna pleaded softly. “Please, Westhaven. I won’t ask again.”

She desired him, Westhaven told himself. That much had always been real between them, and she was asking him to indulge his most sincere wish. That it was his most sincere wish didn’t mean he should deny her, didn’t mean he should assume, with ducal arrogance, he knew better than she what she needed.

“Come.” He tugged her by the hand to stand by the bed and slowly undressed her, taking particular care she not have to move her right shoulder and arm. When she was on the bed, resting on her back, he got out of his own clothes and locked the door before joining her.

“We will be careful, Anna.” He crouched over her naked, his erection grazing her belly. “You are injured, and I cannot go about this oblivious to that fact.”

“We will be careful,” she agreed. Her left hand cradled his jaw and then slid around to his nape to draw him down to her. “We will be very careful.”

He remained above her, his weight on his forearms, even as he joined his mouth to hers and then his body to hers.

“Westhaven.” Anna undulated up against him. “Please, not slow, not this time.”

“Not slow, but careful.”

“Not that either, for God’s sake.”

He laced his fingers through hers where they rested on her pillow and raised himself up just enough to hold her gaze.

“Careful,” he reiterated. “Deliberate.” He slowly hilted himself in her and withdrew. “Measured.” Another thrust. “Steady.” Another. “But hot,” he whispered, “Hard… deep…”

“Oh, God, Gayle…” Her body spasmed around his cock, clutching at him just as hot, hard, and deep as he’d promised her. She buried her face against his shoulder to mute her keening groans of pleasure, and still he drove her on, one careful thrust at a time.

“I am undone,” she pronounced, brushing his hair back from his brow. “I am utterly, absolutely undone.”

“I am not.” The earl smiled down at her, a conqueror’s possessive smile. “But how is your shoulder?”

“You can even think to ask? My shoulder is fine, I believe, but as I am floating a small distance above this bed, I will have to let you know when I am reunited with it.”

“You are pleased?” he asked, lacing his fingers with hers. “This is what you wanted?”

“This is what I needed,” she said softly as he began to move in her again carefully. “This is what I sorely, sorely needed.”

“Anna… When you leave tomorrow…?”

“Yes?” She closed her eyes, making it harder to read her. He laid his cheek against hers and closed his fingers around hers, needing as much contact as he could have.

“When you leave tomorrow and I am not there, this will be part of it,” he said, turning his face to kiss her cheek then resting his cheek against hers again.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I will be thinking of you,” he said, “and you will be thinking of me and of this pleasure we shared. It’s…good is the only word I can find. Joyous, lovely, beautiful, somehow, even if it can’t be more than it is. I wanted you to know how I feel.”

“Oh, you.” Anna curled up to his chest tears flowing. “Gayle Tristan Montmorency Windham. Shame on you; you have made me cry with your poetry.”

He kissed her tears away this time and made her forget her sorrows—almost—with his loving, until she was crying out her pleasure again and again. He let himself join her the last time, his own climax exploding through him, leaving him floating that same small distance above the bed, until sleep began to steal his awareness.

He tended to their ablutions then stood gazing down at Anna where she dozed naked on her left side. It was time to go, he knew, but still, dawn was hours away.

“Don’t go.” Anna opened her eyes and met his gaze. “We will be parted for a long time, Westhaven. Let us remain joined just a little while longer.”

He nodded and climbed into bed, spooning himself around her back and tucking an arm around her waist. This night’s work was pure, selfish folly, but he’d treasure the memory, and he hoped she would, as well.

He made love to her one more time—sweetly, slowly, just before dawn, and then he was gone.

Anna slept late the next morning and considered it a mercy, as the earl had told her he was off to Willow Bend for the day. Val and Dev had ridden out, and so she had breakfast to herself. Her shoulder was itchy, and it took her longer to pack than she’d thought it would, but before long, she was being summoned for luncheon on the back patio.

“You look healthy,” Dev said. “If I did not know you were sporting the remains of a bullet wound, I would think you in the pink.”

“Thank you.” Anna smiled. “I slept well last night.” For the first time in weeks, she truly had.

“Well”—Val sat down and reached for the iced lemonade pitcher—“I did not sleep well. We need another thunderstorm.”

“I wonder.” Anna’s eyes met Val’s. “Does Morgan still dread the thunderstorms?”

“She does,” he replied, sitting back. “She figured out that the day your parents died, when she was trapped in the buggy accident, it stormed the entire afternoon. Her associations are still quite troubling, but her ears don’t physically hurt.” Dev and Anna exchanged a look of surprise, but Val was tucking into his steak.

Dev turned his attention back to his plate. “Anna, are you ready to remove to the ducal mansion?”

“As ready as I’ll be,” Anna replied, her steak suddenly losing its appeal.

“Would you like me to cut that for you?” Dev asked, nodding at the meat on her plate. “I’ve pulled a shoulder now and then or landed funny from a frisky horse, and I know the oddest things can be uncomfortable.”

“I just haven’t entirely regained my appetite,” Anna lied, eyeing the steak dubiously. “And I find I am tired, so perhaps you gentleman will excuse me while I catch a nap before we go?”

She was gone before they were on their feet, leaving Dev and Val both frowning.

“We offered to assist him in any way,” Dev said, picking up his glass. “I think this goes beyond even fraternal devotion.”

“He’s doing what he thinks is right,” Val responded. “I have had quite enough of my front-row seat, Dev. Tragedy has never been my cup of tea.”

“Nor farce mine.”

She didn’t see him for a week.

The time was spent dozing, trying on the new dresses that had arrived from the dressmaker’s, getting to know the duke’s daughters, and being reunited with her grandmother. That worthy dame was in much better form than Anna would have guessed, much to her relief.

“It took a good year,” Grandmama reported, “but the effects of my apoplexy greatly diminished after that. Still, it did not serve to let Helmsley know I was so much better. He wasn’t one to let me off the estate, but I was able to correspond, as you know.”

“Thank God for loyal innkeepers.”

“And thank God for young earls,” Grandmother said. “That traveling coach was the grandest thing, Anna. So when can I meet your young man?”

“He isn’t my young man.” Anna shook her head, rose, and found something fascinating to stare at out the window. “He was my employer, and he is a gentleman, so he and his brothers came to my aid.”

“Fine-looking fellow,” Grandmama remarked innocently.

“You’ve met him?”

“Morgan and I ran into him and his younger brother when she took me to the park yesterday. Couple of handsome devils. In my day, bucks like that would have been brought to heel.”

“This isn’t your day”—Anna smiled—“but as you are widowed, you shouldn’t feel compelled to exercise restraint on my behalf.”

“Your dear grandfather gave me permission to remarry, you know.” Grandmother peered at a tray of sweets as she spoke. “At the time, I told him I could never love another, and I won’t—not in the way I loved him.”

“But?” Anna turned curious eyes on her grandmother and waited.

“But he knew me better than I know myself. Life is short, Anna James, but it can be long and short at the same time if you’re lonely. I think that was part of your brother’s problem.”

“What do you mean?” Anna asked, not wanting to point out the premature use of the past tense.

“He was too alone up there in Yorkshire.” Grandmother bit into a chocolate. “The only boy, then being raised by an old man, too isolated. There’s a reason boys are sent off to school at a young age. Put all those barbarians together, and they somehow civilize each other.”

“Westhaven wasn’t sent to school until he was fourteen,” Anna said. “He is quite civilized, as are his brothers.”

“Civilized, handsome, well heeled, titled.” Grandmother looked up from the tray of sweets. “What on earth is not to like?”

Anna crossed the room. “What if I said I did like him, and he and I were to settle here, two hundred miles from you and Rosecroft? When would you see your great-grandbabies? When would you make this journey again, as we haven’t a ducal carriage for you to travel in?”

“My dear girl.” Her grandmother peered up at her. “Yorkshire is cold, bleak, and lonely much of the year. It is a foolish place to try to grow flowers, and were it not the family seat, your grandfather and I would have removed to Devon long ago. Now, have a sweet, as your disposition is in want of same.”

She picked out a little piece of marzipan shaped like a melon and smiled encouragingly at her granddaughter. Anna stared at the piece of candy, burst into tears, and ran from the room.

“Anna.” Westhaven took both her hands and bent to kiss her cheek. “How do you fare? You look well, if a bit tired.”

“My grandmother is wearing me out,” Anna said, her smile strained. “It is good to see you again.”

“And you,” the earl responded, reluctant to drop her hands. “But I come with sad news.”

“My brother?”

The earl nodded, searching her eyes.

“He passed away last night but left you a final gift,” the earl said, drawing her to sit beside him on a padded window seat. “He wrote out a confession, implicating Stull and himself in all manner of crimes, including arson, misfeasance, assault, conspiracies to commit same, and more. Stull will either hang or be transported if he doesn’t flee, as deathbed confessions are admissible evidence.”

“My brother is dead.” Anna said the words out loud. “I want to be sad, but no feeling comes.”

“He was adamant he wasn’t trying to shoot you. Dev spent some time with him, and though your brother considered murdering you for money, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He insisted the gun went off by accident.”

“And Dev?” Anna looked troubled. “Will charges be pressed, and is he all right?”

“It is like you to think of St. Just. But Anna, your family’s title has gone into abeyance. You might lose Rosecroft.”

“Dev served on the Peninsula for nearly eight years,” Anna said. “He brought two peers of the realm to justice when they were bent on misbehavior. Let him have Rosecroft. Grandmama has just informed me it’s a stupid place to try to grow flowers, but it’s pretty and peaceful. Horses might like it.”

“Then where will you live? I thought you were going to bow to the wishes of your family and remove to Yorkshire?”

“My family.” Anna’s lips thinned. “Morgan flirts with everything she sees, and Grandmother is suddenly tired of northern winters. I am related to a couple of tarts.”

“Even tarts have to live somewhere.”

“Will you sell me Willow Bend?” She looked as surprised by her question as he was, as if it had just popped into her head.

I’d give it to you, he wanted to say. But that would be highly improper.

“I will, if you really want it. The stables are done, and the house is ready for somebody to live there.”

“I like it,” Anna said, “very much in fact, and I like the neighbors there. It’s large enough I could put in some greenhouses and an orangery and so on.”

“I’ll have the solicitors draw up some papers, but Anna?”

“Hmm?”

“You know I would give it to you,” he said despite the insult implied.

She waved a hand. “You are too generous, but thank you for the thought. Tell me again St. Just is not brooding. He took a man’s life, and even for a soldier, that cannot be an easy thing.”

“He will manage, Anna. Val and I will look after him, and he could not let your brother make off with you. The man did contemplate your murder, though we will never know how sincerely.”

“Dev knew”—Anna frowned—“and I knew. Helmsley wasn’t right. Something in him broke, morally or rationally. It’s awful of me, but I am glad he’s dead.”

“It isn’t awful of you. For entirely different reasons, I was glad when Victor died.” He wanted to hold her, to offer her at least the comfort of his embrace, but she wasn’t seeking it. “Are you up to a turn in the garden?”

“I am.” Anna smiled at him, but to him, it was forced, at best an expression of relief rather than pleasure. When they were a safe distance from the house, he paused and regarded her closely.

“You aren’t sleeping well,” he concluded. And neither was he, of course. “And you look like you’ve lost weight, Anna. Don’t tell me it’s the heat.”

“You’re looking a bit peaked yourself, and you’ve lost weight, as well.”

I miss you terribly.

“Are my parents treating you well?” the earl asked, resuming their sedate walk.

“They are lovely, Westhaven, and you knew they would be, or you wouldn’t have sent us here. I am particularly fond of your papa.”

“You are? That would be the Duke of Moreland?”

“Perhaps, though the duke has not been in evidence much. There’s a pleasant older fellow who bears you a resemblance, though. He delights in telling me stories about you and your brothers and sisters. He flirts with my grandmother and my sister, he adores his wife, and he is very, very proud of you.”

“I’ve met him. A recent acquaintance, but charming.”

“You should spend more time with him,” Anna said. “He is acutely aware that with Bart and Victor, he spent years being critical and competitive, when all he really wants is for his children to be happy.”

“Competitive? I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Well,” Anna stopped to sniff at a red rose, closing her eyes to inhale its fragrance. “You should. You have brothers, and it can’t be so different from sons.”

Tell me now, Anna, he silently pleaded as she ran her finger over a rose petal. Tell me I could have a son, that we could have a son, a daughter, a baby, a future—anything.

“How soon can I remove to Willow Bend?” she asked, that forced, bright smile on her face again.

“Tomorrow,” the earl said, blinking. “I trust you to complete the sales transaction, and the house will fare better occupied. It will please me to think of you there.” She stumbled, but his grip on her arm prevented her from falling.

“I have been dependent on the Windhams’ kindness long enough,” Anna said evenly. “I know Morgan and Grandmama will be glad to settle in somewhere.”

“Anna.” He paused with her again, knowing they would soon be back at the house, and Anna had every intention of moving out to Surrey, picking up the reins of her life, and riding out of his.

“How are you really?”

The bright, mendacious smile faltered.

“I am coping,” she said, staring out across the beds of flowers. “I wake up sometimes and don’t know where I am. I think I must see to your lemonade for the day or wonder if you’re already in the park on Pericles, and then I realize I am not your housekeeper anymore. I am not your anything anymore, and the future is this great, yawning, empty unknown I can fill with what? Flowers?”

She offered that smile, but he couldn’t bear the sight of it and pulled her against his chest.

“If you need anything,” he said, holding her against him, “ anything, Anna James. You have only to send me word.”

She said nothing, clinging to him for one long desperate moment before stepping back and nodding.

“Your word, Anna James,” he ordered sternly.

“You have my word,” she said, smile tremulous but genuine. “If I am in any difficulties whatsoever, I will call on you.”

The sternness went out of him, and he again offered his arm. They progressed in silence, unmindful of the duke watching them from the terrace. When his duchess joined him, he slipped an arm around her waist.

“Esther.” He nuzzled her crown. “I find I am fully recovered.”

“This is amazing,” his wife replied, “as you have neither a medical degree nor powers of divination.”

“True.” He nuzzled her again. “But two things are restored to me that indicate my health is once again sound.”

“And these would be?” the duchess inquired as she watched Westhaven take a polite leave of Miss James.

The duke frowned at his son’s retreating back. “The first is a nigh insatiable urge to meddle in that boy’s affairs. Devlin and Valentine dragooned me into a shared tea pot, and for once, we three are in agreement over something.”

“It’s about time.”

“You don’t mind if I take a small hand in things?” the duke asked warily.

“I am ready to throttle them both.” The duchess sighed, leaning into her husband. “And I suspect the girl is breeding and doesn’t even know it.”

“St. Just is of like mind. He and Val all but asked me what I intend to do about it.”

“You will think of something. I have every faith in you, Percy.”

“Good to know.”

“What was the second piece of evidence confirming your restored health?”

“Come upstairs with me, my love, and I will explain it to you in detail.”

“I am here at the request of my duchess,” Moreland declared.

“Your Grace will always be welcome,” Anna said. “I’m sure Grandmama and Morgan will be sorry they missed you.”

“Making the acquaintance of that scamp, Heathgate.” The duke shook his head. “I could tell you stories about that one, missy, that would curl your hair. His brother is no better, and I pray you do not allow me to stray onto the topic of Amery.”

“He loves your granddaughter,” Anna countered, “but have another crème cake, Your Grace, and tell me how your duchess goes on.”

“She thrives as always in my loving care,” the duke intoned pompously, but then he winked at Anna and reached for a cake. “But you tell her I had three of these, and she will tear a strip off the ducal hide. Seriously, she is doing well, as are the girls. I can’t say the same for old Westhaven, though. That boy is a shambles. Were it not for his brothers, I’d move him back to the mansion.”

“A shambles?” Anna felt the one crème cake she’d finished beginning to rebel.

“A complete shambles.” The duke munched away enthusiastically. “His house is in no order whatsoever. Old Fran is running things any damned way she pleases, and you know that cannot be good for the King’s peace. Tolliver has threatened to quit, St. Just is back to his drinking and brooding, and Valentine has taken to hiding from them both in the music room.”

“I am distressed to hear it. But what of the earl? How does he fare?”

“Forgets to eat.” The duke sighed. “Not a problem he inherited from me. Rides his horse every day, but otherwise, it’s business, business, and more business. You’d think the boy’s a damned cit the way he must read every paragraph and negotiate every price. Mark my words, the next heart seizure will be his.”

“Your Grace,” Anna said earnestly, “isn’t there something you can do? He respects you, more than you know.”

“I’ve reformed.” The duke reached for a fourth crème cake. “I do not meddle. I’ve learned my lesson; Westhaven needs to learn his. He did seem to manage better when you were on hand, but no matter. He’ll muddle along. So”—the duke rose, brushing crumbs from his breeches—“My duchess will want to know, how fare you?”

He leveled a lordly, patrician look at her.

“I am well.” Anna rose a little more slowly.

“Not fainting, are you?” The duke glowered at her. “Makes no sense to me at all. The lord plants a babe in a woman’s womb then has her wilting all over. I can understand the weeps and the constant napping, but the rest of it… Not the way I’d have arranged it. But the Almighty is content to make do without my advice for the nonce, much like my children.”

“I am well,” Anna repeated, but a ringing had started in her ears.

The duke leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Glad to hear it, my dear,” he said, patting her arm. “Westhaven would be glad to hear it, too, I expect.”

“Westhaven?”

“He’s an earl,” the duke said, his eyes twinkling. “Handsome fellow, if a bit too serious. Gets that from his mother. Lonely, if you ask me. I think you’ve met him.”

“I have.” Anna nodded, realizing she’d walked her guest to the door. “Safe journey home, Your Grace. My regards to the family.”

The duke nodded and went smiling on the way to his next destination.

“Not managing well, at all.” The duke shook his head. “Your mother was concerned enough to send me, Westhaven, and I am barely allowed off the leash these days, as you well know.”

“You say she looked pale?”

“Women in her condition might look a little green around the gills at first, but then they bloom, Westhaven. Their hair, their skin, their eyes… She isn’t blooming and she’s off her feed and she looks too tired.”

“I appreciate your telling me this,” the earl said, frowning, “but I don’t see what I can do. She hasn’t asked for my help.”

The duke rose, snitching just one more piece of marzipan. “I am not entirely sure she understands her own condition, my boy. Grew up without a mother; probably thinks it’s all the strain of losing that worthless brother. You might find she needs blunt speech if your offspring isn’t to be a six-months’ wonder.

“A six-months’ wonder,” the duke repeated, “like Bart nearly was. He was an eight-months’ wonder instead, which is readily forgivable.”

“He was a what?” The earl was still frowning and still pondering the duke’s revelations regarding Anna’s decline.

“Eight-months’ wonder.” The duke nodded sagely. “Ask any papa, and he’ll tell you a proper baby takes nine and half months to come full term, first babies sometimes longer. Bart was a little early, as Her Grace could not contain her enthusiasm for me.”

“Her Grace could not…?” The earl felt his ears turn red as the significance of his father’s words sunk in.

“Fine basis for a marriage,” the duke went on blithely. “What? You think all ten children were exclusively my fault? You have much to learn, my lad. Much to learn. Now…” The duke paused with his hand on the door. “When will your new housekeeper start?”

“My new housekeeper?”

“Yes, your mother will want to know and to look the woman over. You can’t allow old Fran to continue tyrannizing your poor footmen.”

“I haven’t hired anybody yet.”

“Best be about it.” The duke glanced around the house disapprovingly. “The place is losing its glow, Westhaven. If you expect to resume your courting maneuvers in the little season, you’ll have to take matters in hand, put on a proper face and all that.”

“I will at that,” the earl agreed, escorting his father to the door. “My thanks for your visit, Your Grace.”

The earl was surprised witless when his father pulled him into a hug.

“My pleasure”—the duke beamed—“and your dear mama is probably relieved to be shut of my irresistible self for an hour or two, as well. Mind you don’t let that old woman in the kitchen get above herself.”

“I’ll pass along your compliments.” The earl smiled, watching his father trot down the front steps with the energy of a man one-third his age.

“Was that our esteemed sire?” Dev asked, emerging from the back of the house.

“It was. If I’d known you were home, I would have made him wait.”

“Oh, no harm done. Did he have anything of merit to impart?”

“Anna is not doing well,” the earl said, wondering when he’d lost all discretion.

“Oh?” Dev arched an eyebrow. “Come into the library, little brother, and tell me and the decanter all about it.”

“No decanter for me,” the earl demurred as he followed Dev through the door, “but some lemonade, perhaps, with lots of sugar.”

“So the duke called on Anna and found her in poor spirits?”

“Poor health, more like. Pale, tired, peaked…”

“Like you.” Dev stirred sugar into his lemonade.

“I am merely busy. As you have been busy liquidating Fairly’s stables.”

“And flirting with his fillies.” Dev grinned. “They are the sweetest bunch, Westhaven. But did His Grace intimate Anna had that on-the-nest look about her?”

“And what would you know about an on-the-nest look?”

“I breed horses for a living,” Dev reminded him. “I can tell when a mare’s caught, because she gets this dreamy, inward, secret look in her eye. She’s peaceful but pleased with herself, too. I think you are in anticipation of a blessed event, Westhaven.”

“I think I am, too,” Westhaven said. “Pass me the decanter.” Dev silently obliged and watched as his brother poured whiskey into the sweetened lemonade.

“I promised you last week,” Dev said slowly, “not to let you get half seas over again for at least ten years.”

“Try it.” The earl pushed the decanter toward him. “One cocktail does not a binge make.”

“Very ducally put,” Dev said, accepting the decanter. “How will you ensure my niece or nephew is not a bastard, Westhaven? I am prepared to beat you within an inch of your life, heir or not, if you don’t take proper steps.”

The earl sipped his drink. “The problem is not that I don’t want to take proper steps, as you put it. The problem is that it is Anna’s turn to propose to me.”