The Heir - Catherine Coulter [91]
“Aye, milady. Just returned from Dalworthy’s. Crotchety old bugger broke ’is arm.”
“Excellent,” she said, not caring if Dalworthy had broken his neck. “Please give Tulip some hay, Will, but not too much. She’s been eating her head off.”
She slid gracefully to the ground and very nearly ran to the three narrow front steps. To her surprise, Mrs. Muldoon, Dr. Branyon’s fiery, fiercely loyal Irish housekeeper, did not answer the knock.
“Ann. What a surprise. Good heavens, my girl, whatever are you doing here?” Dr. Branyon stood in the open doorway, his frilled white shirt loose about his neck, the sleeves rolled up over his forearms, his face alight with astonished pleasure.
Lady Ann stared up at him, not a single word forming in her mouth. She ran her tongue over her lips. She realized he was staring at her mouth. “I wanted to surprise you, Paul,” she finally said. Goodness, she sounded like a twit.
He smiled at her, still staring at her mouth. “Ah, I’m rude, Ann. Do come in.” He wanted to carry her inside. He then didn’t want to put her down except on his bed. He wanted to kiss that beautiful mouth of hers, touch his tongue to hers. He shuddered. “I’m sorry. But Mrs. Muldoon isn’t here. I’ll make tea for us if that is what you would like. Mrs. Muldoon’s sister has the mumps. Isn’t that distressing?”
“Very distressing,” Lady Ann said, about as distressed as her mare, Tulip, who was probably neighing with pleasure over her oats. She followed Paul into the front parlor, a cozy, light-filled room that she quite liked. It wasn’t an immense empty tomb like Evesham Abbey.
“I suppose I like your riding hat,” he said. “May I remove it for you?” He wanted to kiss her and he didn’t want to have to find his way around a pile of black velvet.
She nodded mutely, raising her face. He didn’t kiss her, but it was close. He pulled the narrow ribbons apart and lifted the hat from her head. After all his care, he couldn’t prevent tossing the hat on a nearby table. “Now, come sit down and tell me what new calamity brings you here.” Something had to have happened, he knew it. He supposed the kisses would have to wait. He sighed. “I’m fortified. No, you wouldn’t come here just to surprise me, would you?”
22
She gave him a delicious smile. “No, I am here just to see you. Well, I suppose I did have rather a loud argument with Justin over Arabella. I hadn’t meant to, but it happened. Then she even came into the chamber. She was terrified of him, Paul, terrified. As for the earl, God knows what was in his mind. But you are right, you know, about all of it. He believes that she has betrayed him with the comte. But he wouldn’t tell me why exactly he believed it and that is what I wanted from him. But he wouldn’t tell me. However, I do know him well enough to realize that if he believes something so ridiculous then he must have a reason.” She sighed. “I wish he had confided in me.”
“I wonder if he has yet ordered that young man from Evesham Abbey. He should, you know. Then perhaps he and Arabella can get this wretched misunderstanding all straightened out.”
“I hate Evesham Abbey. Now it is even more cold and empty than before. Even when people are walking around, it is still empty. God, I have hated that place forever.”
“Then you will live here with me.”
She looked startled, then laughed. She looked about the drawing room, loving every piece of furniture, each drapery, each small sculpture or drawing or painting that was here. “Would you really let me live here with you? You wouldn’t make me live somewhere else, somewhere you thought was grand enough for me?”
“No, you will be here, with me, and Mrs. Muldoon will bully both of us and love you, but like a mother would, not like I, who would be your husband and your lover. I know you enjoy this house, Ann. I also know that if it didn