Free Lord Deverill's Heir by Catherine Coulter Page A

you could imagine, ‘Well, my fine daughter, it seems that I will have to hire a special mathematics tutor for you! Forty gables indeed. You have disappointed me gravely, Arabella.’ She said not a word, slipped out of his arms, and was not to be seen for two hours. Her father was beginning to grow quite anxious, nearly to the point of berating himself, when the little scamp comes running in to him, completely filthy and utterly frazzled. She stood right in front of him, her little legs planted firmly apart, grubby hands on her hips, frowning, and said in the most scathing voice, ‘How dare you serve me such a trick, Father? I forbid you to deny it. I have brought your bricklayer to be my witness that before there were indeed forty gables.’ As I remember, from that day on the earl ceased to pine about not having a son. He kept Arabella with him constantly. Even in the hunt, he bundled her in front of him on his huge black stallion, and they would go tearing off at a speed that made my hair stand on end.” The earl grinned, then threw back his head and roared with laughter. “So are there forty or forty-one gables, Ann?”
    “Under Arabella’s instructions, the earl had the forty-first gable removed. Such a little commander she was. Actually, she still is. It is part of her, Justin. It is something you will have to become accustomed to.”
    The earl rose, stretched, and leaned against the mantelpiece, hands thrust into his pockets. “You’re right. I wonder if I will let her order me about? I never knew my mother, for she died birthing me, so there has never been a woman to order me to do this and that. I don’t believe I would allow her to do it, Ann. But we will see.” Lady Ann turned in her chair, her black silk skirts rustling softly.
    “This forthright side of her—I believe it part of her charm. Poor George Brammersley, though, I fear her treatment of him sent the poor man to his room with a fierce headache.”
    “Yes, well, just think of the shock to her, hearing her father’s conditions in his will.” He thought about his first meeting with Arabella earlier that morning, but said nothing of it. Perhaps that had been the greater shock.
    “Well, this is progress indeed, Justin. Already you defend her high spirits.”
    “High spirits, you say? Too pallid a description for your daughter’s dramatics. No, I should say rather that she has energy and resolution and, in addition, the sensibilities of a deaf goat.” What was there to say to that?

    Arabella came down the great front stairs of Evesham Abbey the following morning feeling flattened. It wasn’t something she was used to. She hated it. Her situation, which she’d thought about it from every angle she could dredge up during the hours since she’d awakened at dawn, wasn’t enviable. She either had to leave Evesham Abbey or marry the new earl.
    And, naturally, it was really quite simple. She knew in the deepest part of her that she could not leave her home. As for the new earl, she didn’t like him, didn’t want him around, didn’t want to speak to him, actually, didn’t even want him to exist, but she knew she would have to marry him.
    So be it.
    She walked through the large entrance hall, under the great arch, to a narrow corridor that led to the small breakfast parlor. Only she and her father ever breakfasted so early, and she looked forward now to being alone with her favorite strawberry jam and toast.
    “Lady Arabella.”
    Arabella turned, her hand on the doorknob of the breakfast parlor, to see Mrs. Tucker balancing a large pot of coffee near one dimpled elbow and a rack of toast near the other.
    “Good morning, Mrs. Tucker. You are looking well. I am glad you’ve prepared my breakfast as usual. Please don’t forget the strawberry jam.
    It will be a lovely day, don’t you agree?”
    “Yes, yes, of course, Lady Arabella, I am quite well and lovely. Well, the day will be lovely, that is.” Mrs. Tucker’s two chins wobbled a bit