The Heir - Catherine Coulter [121]
“Now, obey me. Keep your hands to yourself, well, at least keep them above my waist. Shall we gaze at our ancestors together?”
The earl said to his wife as they strolled in the parterre late that morning, “I want you to take Gervaise away with you this afternoon. Elsbeth as well. Suzanne if you can get her. I want to search his bedchamber and I must know that he won’t walk in on me. If he were to, then I would have to kill him and we wouldn’t know why he came here to Evesham Abbey in the first place.”
It burned in her throat, her knowledge of Gervaise and Elsbeth. Burned deep, but her loyalty to her father, to Elsbeth, burned even deeper. She held her tongue, but it was difficult. She owed this man all of her, and she was holding back. But what choice did she have?
“Yes,” she said, “I will get Suzanne. She would doubtless be shamelessly delighted to get away from poor Lord Graybourn. I will send a messenger to her right now. She doesn’t dare refuse me.”
“You know, I believe, if we are lucky, that Lord Graybourn just might prefer Elsbeth to Suzanne. That would delight Suzanne and put her in my debt.” She beamed a smile up at him. He wanted to have her atop him, bringing him deep inside her, her back arched, her head thrown back. He drew in a deep breath. “All right,” he said. He raised his hand, his fingers lightly touching the tip of her nose. “You are beautiful and ruthless and loyal. You are the most splendid wife a man could have.”
“If you ever forget it, I will hurt you badly,” she said as she lightly punched her fist into his belly, quickly kissed his mouth, and stepped back, whistling like a boy. Once she knew how it would be when she was astride him, he wondered how she would whistle then. He grinned shamelessly after her.
There was no reason to send a messenger to Suzanne. Both Justin and Arabella heard the sound of carriage wheels in the drive. They turned to see the Talgarth carriage draw to a standstill in front of Evesham Abbey. He felt a moment of surprise to see Lady Talgarth follow her daughter out of the carriage. It had stopped raining, although Lady Talgarth was eyeing the sky with some disfavor. She obviously didn’t trust the weather. Neither did he.
The earl said to his wife, “I wonder. Do you believe that Lady Talgarth has decided to forgive Ann for marrying Paul? I had rather hoped she would hold firm. I have always had an affinity for gossiping biddies. I dislike having to revise my opinions.”
She laughed. Together they walked forward to greet their guests. He left his wife so that he could clasp the lovely Suzanne’s gloved hand and give her a formal bow. “Why, Miss Talgarth, how very brave of you to venture forth in such bad weather. Although it has stopped raining—just for your visit—I do fear for the immediate future. You bring no ill news, I trust.”
Suzanne dimpled, shot an amused glance at Arabella, and said, “No, my lord, Mama and I are here with a bit of grand news. Aren’t we, Mama?”
Lady Talgarth looked like she’d swallowed a caterpillar. She managed to smile, but it fell away when Ann came into the room. Civil greetings were managed, just barely. “Ah,” she said, “here is tea. However, I do not see any lemon seed cake.”
“I will send Crupper to see if there is any left,” Lady Ann said, smiling behind her hand.
Suzanne said, “Mama, I just told the earl that we bring no ill tidings. In fact,” she added, now looking at Arabella, “we are here to issue an invitation.”
Lady Talgarth choked on her tea. Ann gently thumped her broad back, which was covered with a bright purple brocade.
“Yes,” Suzanne said, “an invitation.”
“That sounds interesting, an invitation, you say, Miss Talgarth? Come, I am certain that neither Arabella nor I would think of disobliging you. Well, perhaps Arabella might. She wants only my company, you know, but perhaps if