The Heir - Catherine Coulter [43]
“My dear boy,” Lady Ann said, lightly tapping her fingertips on his buff sleeve. “It is nearly time for luncheon. Let me ring for a footman to take up your luggage. We can spend the afternoon getting better acquainted.”
The comte bestowed upon her a boyish grin, calculated, Justin thought, to stir Lady Ann’s maternal instincts. And when he murmured over her hand, “I am your slave, my dear lady,” the earl thought he would puke again.
By evening’s end, the earl had decided that the young man was no one’s slave. Indeed, it seemed that all the women had quite fallen under his charm. Even his Arabella appeared to accept the comte’s presence without question. She had smiled more in the young man’s presence than she had since Justin’s arrival. He didn’t like it one bit.
During the next several days, the earl was left to wonder if he was still betrothed. He saw little of Arabella. If she wasn’t in long fittings with the seamstress and Lady Ann for her bridal clothes, she was riding with the comte, fishing with the comte, exploring the countryside with the comte, visiting neighbors with the comte, all in all treating the earl—her own betrothed—with complete indifference. Even at his most infuriated, the earl would never fault her with flirting with Gervaise de Trécassis. No, what he saw was a young woman being pulled from her grief. He watched many times with amazement her exuberance and vitality. It was just a pity that he didn’t appear to be able to bring this out of her. That Elsbeth accompanied Arabella and the comte on all their jaunts didn’t help. He felt the weight of injustice. However, since he was an earl, a very important man, actually, he felt it important that he remain cool and in control. Thus he tended to treat the three of them like an amused and tolerant uncle. It made Lady Ann arch her fine brows at him, and, had he but known it, made Arabella grind her teeth.
The earl found his only ally to be Dr. Branyon. It was the doctor who said in a measured voice one evening as Lady Ann and the three younger members of the group were playing whist, Arabella partnered by the comte, “Undoubtedly the young comte is harmless enough, though I do find his sense of timing to be almost suspiciously flawless, shall we say. I ask myself why he did not make himself known years ago. After all, the late earl was his uncle by marriage. Why did he wait to come here after the earl, his uncle, had died? Yes, it bothers me, this timing of his.”
The earl said slowly, watching the young man adroitly lose a hand to Lady Ann, which only made Arabella grin at him, “That is an excellent observation. Perhaps the comte’s prior activities bear closer examination.”
“He cannot have much prior experience for he is very young. I asked him his age and he told me he was twenty-three. That is only four years younger than you, Justin. He seems a mere boy to me.”
“And I appear an old man?”
“No, but you are a man. You know who and what you are. As for the comte—” Dr. Branyon shrugged. “I find myself wondering what he is thinking. And he is thinking, mayhap even scheming. I don’t like it.”
“That inexhaustible charm of his, I begin to believe he was born with that. He is very good. Better than most men twice his age. Scheming? We will see.”
The comte suddenly threw up his hands in mock despair at that moment and exclaimed, “Elsbeth, you have trumped my spade. I had not expected it. Arabella, forgive me for my lapse—but what can I expect when I am surrounded by three beautiful women? I am just relieved that I managed to win two hands.”
“You were too careless, Gervaise,” Arabella said. She was a fierce competitor, but she was still smiling. “Congratulations, Elsbeth, Mother.