The Heir - Catherine Coulter [76]
Arabella blinked, sent Suzanne a quick look, and said, “Lady Talgarth, surely you are not speaking about that dear clumsy young man with no chin to speak of?”
Suzanne laughed, full and deep, not a young lady’s trained laugh, but a very real one that brought smiles to nearly every face at the table. “You see, Mama, Arabella quite agrees with me. You forgot to add, Bella, that at but twenty-and-five, he is already paunchy. I had it on the best of sources that the only reason Lord Graybourn rises before noon is that he is afraid that he will miss his breakfast. I’m told he adores kidneys. It is enough to make me flee to France in naught but my petticoats.”
“Suzanne! Well, now, not exactly that, I trust. That is hardly kind, my little darling. Really, now, just think of all those delicious gowns and jewels you would own. Just think about all those houses, five of them. Spread all over our fair country. Five, Suzanne.”
“But I already own all the delicious gowns I could ever want, Mama. As for jewels—” Suzanne shrugged. “I don’t think I could bear to have to be nice to Lord Graybourn just to have a rope of diamonds around my neck.”
Suzanne laughed toward Arabella, then raised coquettish wide eyes to the earl, pursed her pink lips, and said with all the wickedness of a born actress, “I think that I would prefer a gentleman with more worldly experience. Perhaps a gentleman with military training—like you, my lord. A gentleman who is decisive, yet a gentleman who knows exactly how to treat a lady. How very protected and secure you must feel, Bella.”
“I am only two years older than poor Lord Graybourn,” the earl said, smiling into his wineglass. Suzanne Talgarth was a baggage.
As for Arabella, her fingers tightened about the stem of her wineglass. She noted with a passing glance that the earl’s eyes had narrowed ever so slightly. She forced a smile at Suzanne. “I think it wise to look to oneself first for such things as protection. It is many times difficult, I think, to determine beforehand the actions of another.”
“Good grief, whatever that means,” Suzanne said. “But I don’t doubt that you have again defended my opinion.” She turned to the earl. “Bella always agrees with me. Those few times that she didn’t, why I talked and talked until she fell in a faint at my feet, finally nodding her head.”
“I feel some small amount of pity for your future husband,” the earl said.
“Dear Miss Talgarth,” the comte said, his accent heavy and obscure, “surely it cannot be so very important, these years of worldly experience you speak of. My dear mademoiselle, a French gentleman comes into the world with such gifts.”
“In my opinion, it is all one and the same,” Lady Talgarth said, confusing everyone. She harked back to her grievance. “I’m certain that neither Arabella nor you, Suzanne, can accuse Lord Hartland of being paunchy of or having no chin. I have it on the best authority that he never gets up early to eat kidneys. No, he doesn’t even arouse himself before two o’clock in the afternoon. So, you see, all is fine in that quarter.”
To Arabella’s surprise, Suzanne faltered. Arabella said quickly, “Indeed, you must be right, ma’am. And as to experience, why, he is at least fifty years old, has already buried two wives, not to mention supporting his several quite expensive aspiring offspring.