Lord Deverill's Heir by Catherine Coulter Read Free Book Online

felt fury at herself for showing him her pain. “You did not frighten me. You haven’t that power.” The earl rose slowly to his feet, looking for control, for patience. He looked searchingly down at her, and saw the furiously pounding pulse in the hollow of her throat. “We seem to meet in the most peculiar places.
    First the fishpond and now the cemetery. Come, Arabella, it is chilly and dark in here. Let us return to the abbey. It is a long walk, but it is just as well, for I believe we have much to say to each other.” He sounded calm, bored, really, and wanting nothing more than to walk away from her, to never speak to her again, to never have to look upon her face again.
    “We have nothing to say to each other, Captain Deverill. Oh yes, my father wrote what a great military man you were. I imagine he provided you with a rank and position that suited your ambitions? I imagine that he protected you, saw to it that you advanced?” He wanted to smack her. Instead he said easily, “No, he didn’t, actually.”
    “Naturally I don’t believe you. Now, I suppose I have no choice but to see you at the dinner table.” She turned and walked away from him, out of the crypt, into the early evening. It was very nearly dark.
    “Arabella—”

    She didn’t even turn to face him, just said over her shoulder, with complete indifference, “I am not Arabella to you. I don’t wish you to address me, thus you have no need of a name for me.”
    “I assure you that I am right this moment considering many names for you.
    However, in the name of conciliation, I will call you cousin if you like.
    We can work that out later. For now, you will act like a lady. You will walk beside me. You will converse with me. Don’t push me on this.” He waited a moment, but she remained quiet. She wasn’t looking at him, but rather down at her slipper, whose ribbon had become untied. She went down on her knees and retied the ribbon. Her hands weren’t steady. It took her too long to do it. When she rose, she still didn’t look at him.
    She turned to walk away.
    As he had done in the library, he grabbed her arm to stop her. “I don’t wish to tear your other sleeve. Listen to me now. I am willing to make allowances for your behavior because of your bereavement, but stupid childishness, this churlish conduct, I will not tolerate.” Unconsciously she moved her hand to the rent sleeve and rubbed her arm.
    She had acted the fool, but no more, because, quite simply, it gained her nothing. He released her.
    “Yes,” she said finally, “it is chilly here. I will walk with you, Captain Deverill. It seems I have no choice. Say what you will say. Speak of the weather. Speak of the atrocities on the Peninsula. Speak of whatever pleases you to speak of. I really don’t care. None of it makes any difference.”
    “I will say only that everything I do will eventually make a very big difference to you, cousin.”
    Her hands were fists at her sides.
    He said only, “Don’t.”
    Her breathing was fast and jerky, but her hands smoothed out at her sides. Then he simply kept pace with her, out of the vault, pulling the doors closed behind them. They walked in silence through the cemetery until they gained the yew-lined path. Arabella looked at his strong profile, still distinct in the fading light. She didn’t mean to speak to him but she couldn’t seem to hold the words back. “You knew of this arrangement, did you not? Even this morning, you knew.”

    “Yes, of course I knew. The earl approached me some years ago. I must say that he was very thorough in his examination of my character and prospects. I believe he even interviewed my mistresses, my friends, and my enemies as well. He left no stone unturned to strip me down to the bone.”
    “And if my father had not died, he would have presented you to me as my future husband?”
    “Yes.” He stopped a moment and looked down at her. “Your father always spoke of you in such glowing terms, I