The Heir (37 page)

“And she would have to be a cow,” the earl muttered, grimacing. “I hate just sitting here, waiting for those idiots to make the next move.”

“And they hate just sitting there”—Hazlit reached for a piece of marzipan—“doing nothing. You should probably prepare yourself for some kind of legal maneuvering.”

“What kind of maneuvering?”

“Charges of kidnapping or alienation of affections, breach of promise against Anna, demands of marriage from Helmsley.”

“Demands that I marry her?” The earl scowled thunderously. “In God’s name why?”

“If Helmsley sees you are a fatter pigeon than Stull, he’ll rattle that sword.”

“Christ.” The earl got up and paced to the window.
Anna and Dev were on the terrace, and she was smiling at something he’d said. Dev’s smile was flirtatious and a little wistful—charmingly so, damn the scoundrel.

“We can hope it’s a moot question,” Hazlit said, rising to his feet. “If Stull attempts to remove her from your property, then you bring the kidnapping charges, and that will be the end of it. Unless she’s married to the man, she can testify against him in any court in the land.”

“What was the extent of the old earl’s estate?” the earl asked, staring out the windows. Hazlit named a figure, a very large and impressive figure.

The earl continued to watch as Dev and Anna laughed their way through lunch. “If Helmsley has gambled that away, then he is guilty of misfeasance?”

“He most assuredly is,” Hazlit replied, coming to stand where he, too, could look out at the back terrace.

“So I need to prove Helmsley guilty of misfeasance,” the earl said, “and foil the baron’s attempts at kidnapping, and then Anna should be safe but penniless.”

“Not penniless. There is a trust fund that simply cannot be raided, not by God Almighty or the archangel Gabriel, as it is set aside for Anna’s exclusive use. Her grandmother has seen to it the money was wisely invested.”

“That is some good news.” The earl turned finally, as Dev was escorting Anna back into the house. “Do you know how much she has left?” Hazlit named another figure, one that would keep even a genteel lady comfortably for a very long time.

The earl turned, watching as Hazlit gathered up his effects. “If nothing else, I appreciate my family
more, my siblings and my parents, for this glimpse into Anna’s circumstances.”

“You are a fortunate man,” Hazlit said. “In your family, in any case. I’m off to loiter away the afternoon at the Pig. I’ll report when something warrants your attention.”

“I will await your communication,” the earl said, seeing his guest to the door. “But patience is not my greatest strength.”

The earl had no sooner returned to the library than Dev appeared, Anna in tow.

“So who was that?” Dev asked.

“Who was who?”

“That handsome devil who eyed us out the window, the one who stood right beside you,” Dev shot back.

“Benjamin Hazlit. Our private investigator.” The earl turned his gaze to Anna. “He thinks you should marry me.”

“Let him marry you. I think I should join a convent.”

“Now that,” Dev said, “would be an inexcusable waste.”

“I quite agree.” The earl smiled thinly. “Hazlit says we wait now and expect either the baron to try to abduct you again or your brother to bring kidnapping charges.”

Anna sat down in a heap. “As a man cannot kidnap his wife, we have another brilliant reason to marry me to you.”

“Sound reasoning,” the earl said. “I gather you are not impressed.”

“I am not impressed.” Anna rose abruptly. “And
what do you mean, Westhaven, by summoning a dressmaker here?”

“I meant you to have some dresses,” the earl said. “Dresses that are not gray or brown or brownish gray or grayish brown. I meant for you to enjoy, at least, the fashions available to you here in London and to spend some time in a pursuit common to ladies of good breeding. I meant to offer you diversion. What did you think I meant?”

“Oh.” Anna sat back down.

“I believe I will check on my horses and maybe take one out for a hack,” Dev said and headed for the door.

“In this heat?” the earl asked, incredulous. Dev was nothing if not solicitous of his horses.

“A very short hack,” Dev conceded over his shoulder, leaving Anna and the earl alone in the library.

Why are you ignoring me?
Anna silently wailed. But she knew why: Westhaven was treating her as a guest, and not as a guest with whom he was in love.

In all her dealings with him, Anna realized, she had worried for him. Worried he would suffer disappointment in her, worried his consequence would suffer for associating with her, worried she wasn’t at all what he needed in a duchess. In hindsight, she saw she should have saved a little worry for herself—worry that her heart would break and she would be left to pick up the pieces without any clue as to how to go about it.

Westhaven was frowning at her. “Anna, are you perhaps in need of a nap?”

“Like a cranky child? Yes, I suppose I am. Are you?”

He smiled at that, a slow, wicked, tempting grin that heartened Anna immeasurably.

I missed you last night
, but she didn’t say it. Couldn’t say it, with his frown replacing that grin.

“Did you know,” the earl said, “you’re a wealthy woman?”

“I am
what
?” Anna shot back to her feet. “Your jest is in poor taste, Westhaven.”

“You
are
tired.” The earl shifted to sit in his rocker. “Sit down, Anna, and let us discuss your situation.”

“My situation?” Anna sat as bid, not liking the serious light in his eye.

“You are wealthy,” the earl repeated. He described her trust fund and her grandmother’s stewardship of it. “You can do any damned thing you please, Anna James, and in terms of your finances, you needn’t marry anybody.”

“But why wasn’t I allowed to use my own money?” Anna wailed. “For two years, I’ve not had more than pin money to spare, and you tell me there are thousands of pounds with my name on them?”

“There are, just waiting for you to claim them.”

“Why wouldn’t my grandmother have told me of this?”

“She might not have known at the time of your departure exactly what funds were available for what purpose,” the earl suggested gently. “She was unwell when you came south, and solicitors can be notoriously closemouthed. Or she might not have wanted to risk Helmsley getting wind if she tried to communicate with you. You must ask her.”

“I knew we had dowries,” Anna said, shaking her head. “Of course my brother would not tell me I had my own money. Damn him.”

“Yes,” Westhaven agreed, pulling her to her feet. “Damn him to the coldest circle of hell, and Baron Lardbucket with him. You still look like you need a nap.”

“I do need a nap,” Anna sighed and looked down at his hand linked with hers. There was something she needed much more than a nap, but the earl was apparently not of like mind. Well, damn him, too.

“I’ll leave you, then,” Anna said, chin up, tears threatening.

“You will see me at dinner,” the earl warned her. “And Dev and Val, as well.”

She nodded, and he let her go.

Now what in blazes, the earl wondered, could make a sane woman cry upon learning she was financially very well off indeed?

For his part, the knowledge was more than justification for tears. When Anna thought herself penniless and facing lawsuits, she hadn’t accepted his offer of marriage. How much more hopeless would his situation be when she had the coin to manage without him entirely?

Anna presented herself freshly scrubbed for dinner, but she’d slept most of the afternoon away first. She had not joined all three brothers for a meal previously and found them to be formidably charming, the earl less overtly so than Val and Dev.

“So what will you do with your wealth?” Dev asked. “The only suitable answer is: Buy a horse.”

“She could buy your stud farm,” Val remarked, “and then some.”

“I will look after my grandmother and my sister,” Anna said. “Nothing else much matters, but I would like to live somewhere we can grow some flowers.”

“Will you move back north?” Val asked, his smile faltering.

“I don’t know. All of my grandmother’s friends are there; my best memories are there.”

“But some difficult memories, too,” the earl suggested, topping up her wine glass.

“Some very difficult memories. I’ve always thought it made more sense to grow flowers in a more hospitable climate, but the need for them is perhaps greater in the North.”

“Will you grow them commercially?” Dev asked.

“I simply don’t know,” Anna said, her gaze meeting the earl’s. “Until things are resolved, and until I have a chance to sort matters through with Grandmama and Morgan, there is little point in speculating. Shall I leave you gentleman to your port and cigars?”

“I never learned the habit of smoking,” the earl said, his brothers concurring. “Would you perhaps rather join us in a nightcap, Anna?”

“Thank you, no.” Anna stood, bringing all three men to their feet. “While your company is lovely, my eyes are heavy.”

“I’ll light you up,” the earl offered, crooking his arm at her. Anna accepted it, taking guilty pleasure
in even that small touch. When they were safely out of earshot, the earl paused and frowned at her. “You aren’t coming down with something, are you?”

“I am just tired.”

“You have every right to be.” He patted her hand, and Anna wanted to scream. She held her tongue though, until they’d gained her bedroom.

“Is this how it’s to be, Westhaven?” She crossed her arms and regarded him as he lit her candles.

“I beg your pardon?” He went on, carefully lighting a candelabra on her mantle.

“I am suddenly a sister to you?” Anna began to pace. “Or a stranger? A houseguest to whom you are merely polite?”

“You are not a sister to me.” The earl turned to face her, the planes of his face harsh in the muted light. “But you are under my protection, Anna, as a guest. You are also a woman who has repeatedly told me my honorable intentions are not welcome. I will not offer you dishonorable intentions.”

“Why not?” she shot back, wishing her dignity was equal to the task of keeping her mouth shut. “You certainly were willing to before.”

“I was courting you,” he said, “and there were lapses, I admit. But our circumstances are not the same now.”

“Because my grandfather was an earl?”

“It makes a difference, Anna.” Westhaven eyed her levelly. “Or it should. More to the point, you are likely to be the victim of another attempted kidnapping in the near future, and your brother is guilty of misfeasance, at the very least.”

“You can’t prove that,” Anna said. But more than
fatigue, what she felt was the weight of the earl’s withdrawal.

He walked over to her, hesitated then reached up to brush a lock of hair back behind her ear. “You are tired, your life is in turmoil, and while I could importune you now, it would hardly be gentlemanly. I have trespassed against you badly enough as it is and would not compound my errors now.”

“And would it be ungentlemanly,” Anna said, turning her back to him, “to simply hold me?”

He walked around to the front of her, his eyes unreadable.

“Get into your nightclothes,” he said. “I’m going to fetch you some chamomile tea, and then we’ll get you settled.”

Anna just stood in the middle of her room for long minutes after he’d left, her heart breaking with the certain knowledge she was being
humored
by a man who no longer desired her. She desired him, to be sure, but desire and willingness to destroy a good man’s future were two different things.

Still, it hurt terribly that while she missed him, missed him with a throbbing, bodily ache, he was not similarly afflicted. She had disappointed him then refused his very gentlemanly offers and now he was done with her, all but the wrapping up and slaying her dragons part.

“You are ready for bed,” the earl said, carrying a tray with him when he rejoined her. “Your hair is still up. Shall I braid it for you?”

She let him, let him soothe her with his kindness and his familiar touch and his beautiful, mellow
baritone describing his conversation with his father and the various details of his day. He lay down beside her on the bed, rubbing her back as she lay on her side. She drifted off to sleep, the feel of his hand on her back and his breath on her neck reassuring her in ways she could not name.