The Heir - Catherine Coulter [144]
The earl, who she had thought was not paying any particular attention, suddenly looked up. “The barn, Ann? You mean that private place of hers?”
“Ah, has she taken you there yet, Justin?”
He shook his head. “Not as yet, but she will. She has told me a little bit about it.”
“It’s one of her favorite haunts, as I’m sure you know. She never took her father seriously in his order and she was right, it was his fear that had made him try to protect her.
“It’s this special hideaway in the very top of the barn. There is this ladder just inside the front barn door that leads up to the crawl way. She used to say it was the most perfect spot for being alone—even better than the old abbey ruins—for no one could hear her or see her, and the stable hands could be milking cows below, chattering away, but she wouldn’t hear them. Yes, as a child she would climb up the narrow crawlway whenever she wanted to be by herself. I shall never forget that day—she could not have been more than ten years old—when one of the boards gave way and she fell some twenty feet to the ground, breaking her leg and cracking two ribs. She was very lucky, for a broken limb can result even in the best of circumstances in a horrible limp.”
“Is that when you fell in love with Paul Branyon? When he managed to keep her leg straight and strong?”
“No, actually, I fell in love with him when I was in labor with Arabella. It was a very long labor, but Paul never left me. I do not believe I would have survived it if not for him. He convinced me to fight, you see. He has done so much for us over the years.”
“Yes,” the earl said. He set down his empty coffee cup and sat close to Arabella again. “I believe he is at this minute trying to save the comte. No, he isn’t a comte, he isn’t an anything, but a damnable bastard—”
“What is this, Justin? What do you mean that Gervaise isn’t the Comte de Trécassis?”
He cursed under his breath. He was so tired he was no longer in control of his brains. He had simply forgotten that there were still several facts not known yet to everyone. It was difficult to keep them all straight. Well, now it was too late.
“Justin.”
He gave it up. “Very well. When Arabella was trapped in the old abbey ruins, she found a very old letter in the skeleton’s pocket. His name was Charles. He was Gervaise’s father. Magdalaine was his mother and this man’s lover.”
She stared at him stunned for some moments before she realized what it meant. “Oh, no,” Lady Ann said. “Oh, no. Elsbeth must never know, Justin, never.”
“No, she won’t. Indeed I hadn’t intended to tell you. Arabella only told me because she was afraid she would die and she knew she could trust me. I suppose it really doesn’t matter. Tell Paul, if you wish. I don’t know what she did with the letter she found. There is one other thing. That man Charles and Magdalaine both died. Arabella didn’t tell me sooner because of her loyalty to her father. If Gervaise hadn’t shot her, I wonder if she would have ever said anything, even to me. She believes him a murderer, Ann, and bonds of loyalty are strong.”
Lady Ann was pacing back and forth, pausing every step or so to look over at her daughter, still deeply asleep, held there by a large dose of laudanum.
“Do you know anything about this, Ann?”
“No. But if the earl believed himself to be betrayed, he wouldn’t hesitate to act. Murder? No, that wouldn’t be past him. I think now that it wouldn’t be past me either. I think, though, that with another man, he would be more likely to fight a duel. He had complete confidence in himself. Utter complete confidence. What man could ever compete with him in the field of honor? Hopefully Arabella will be able to tell us more when she awakens.”
If she awakens. In that moment, he couldn’t bear it. He had to feel