The Heir (29 page)

“He plays Herr Beethoven like a man, not a boy.”

“You would be better able to decipher that than I.” Anna accepted the apple slice he passed her. “His playing to me has lately become passionate, and brilliant as a consequence.”

“That’s well said,” the earl responded, munching thoughtfully.

“You’ve dodged my question about the physicians,” Anna said, rubbing her hand across his lower back.

“They can’t tell us anything for sure. The duke’s symptoms—the sensation of a horse sitting on his chest, inability to breath freely, pain in the left side of his neck and down his left arm—are classic signs
of a heart seizure. But the pains were very fleeting, and His Grace is a very active fellow. He has not felt particularly fatigued, is not in pain as we speak, and hasn’t had any previous episodes of chest pain. He may make a full recovery and live another twenty years. The next weeks will be critical in terms of ensuring he gets rest and only very moderate exercise.”

“But they also implied he may die tonight. Do you believe he’s had no similar incidents, or has he been keeping up appearances for your mother?”

“Dev asked the same thing, and we decided if there had been earlier warnings, Her Grace might be the only one to detect it.”

“And she would say nothing, except possibly to His Grace when they had privacy, which they will have little of.”

“I can see they have some.” The earl glanced over at her. “You learned this from your grandparents?”

“My grandmother. From time to time she shooed everybody away from the sick room and had Grandpapa to herself. It gave us all a break and gave them some time to be together.”

“And to say good-bye.” The earl sipped his drink again then handed the glass to Anna. “God, Anna, when I think of the things I said to my father today.”

“You can apologize,” Anna said simply. “It’s more than he’s ever been willing to do when it’s time to mend a fence. And he has bullied his way through many fences.”

The earl chuckled at her tart tone, despite his fears and guilt and fatigue. “You are a ruthlessly practical woman, Anna Seaton.”

“Eat your marzipan,” she ordered. “I’ve learned to
be practical, and you’ve no one to talk sense to you tonight save me. A man of the duke’s age is lucky to be alive, much less alive and getting up to all the mischief he does. You did not cause his heart seizure, Westhaven. Do not even try to argue with me on this.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek then handed him a piece of candy. “Eat.”

He obeyed, realizing the food, drink, and conversation had restored him more than he would have thought possible.

“The next week,” he said around a mouthful of almond paste, “will be trying.”

“Your entire existence as the duke’s heir has been trying.”

“It has,” he agreed, fingering his glass. “But I’m getting things turned around, Anna. The cash flow will soon be reliable and healthy, the estate managers are getting better organized, the girls and Mama and even His Grace are learning to deal with budgets and allowances. By the end of summer, I won’t have to spend so much time with Tolliver. I wanted my father to see that.”

“You wanted him to offer some gesture of thanks, or perhaps you wanted to be able to brag on yourself a bit and see if he at least notices all your efforts.”

“I suppose.” He picked up the second piece of marzipan and studied it. “Is that such a sorry thing, for a grown man still to want his papa to approve of him?”

“The sorry thing is that there would be any doubt in your mind that he does.” She kissed his cheek again, a gesture that felt comforting and natural to him, then rose and began tidying up the kitchen.

“In all of today’s tumult, I’ll bet you forgot to fire Stenson and also forgot that our new butler started.”

“Sterling.” The earl nodded. “I did forget. Have we counted the silver to make sure my choice was worthy? And yes, I have yet to speak to Stenson.”

“Send him back to the mansion, then,” Anna suggested. “Lord Val is there, and Colonel St. Just’s smalls are all mended.”

“He’s probably told you to call him by name.” Anna and Dev might never be the best of friends, but in her tone there was none of the latent prickliness Dev had engendered earlier.

“He is much like your papa,” Anna said, pausing as she picked up the earl’s tray. “Gruff and sometimes unable to communicate his motivations, but tenderhearted and fierce.”

“A good description. He was a grown man, though, before he could even speak clearly among strangers.”

“Lord Val told me of the stutter,” Anna said, coming back to the table with a clean rag. She bent over to wipe down the table, and Westhaven seized her hand in a gentle, implacable grip.

“Anna?” She straightened slowly and met his gaze. “Spend the night with me.”

Anna detected an odd light in Westhaven’s eyes, combining daring and ferocity, but behind that, a stark vulnerability, as well. “Spend the night with me,” he’d said. Simple, straightforward words with a wealth of complicated meanings.

She closed her eyes, trying to brace herself against
his request and against her own raging desire to grant it.
Not now
, she thought desperately. Not now, when they hadn’t even discussed that investigator and the urgent need for her to flee.

“I will behave,” the earl said, dropping her wrist. “I’m too damned tired to really… Well, maybe not too tired, but too…” He fell silent and frowned. “It is an unreasonable request and poorly timed. Forget I asked.”

Anna opened her eyes and saw he was no longer looking at her. He rose and stretched, then glanced over at her where she stood immobilized, the rag still in her hand.

“I’ve offended you,” he said. “I just want… Will you be here in the morning?”

He hadn’t wanted to put that question into words, Anna knew. Hadn’t wanted to ask her to be with him in the morning.

“I will be here,” Anna said, unable to listen to her common sense screaming to the contrary. “In your bed, if you want me there.”

He just nodded and took the rag from her, wiping up the table while Anna finished putting away the dishes she’d washed. To her, the moment was resoundingly domestic and somehow right for them. He wasn’t pretentious with her, wasn’t always the earl. Sometimes, like now, he was just Gayle Windham, a thoroughly, completely lovable and worthy man.

He waited until Anna had finished tidying up, took a candle from the table, and held out his arm to her. The gesture was courtly and oddly reminiscent of Anna’s grandparents.
Oh, to grow old with him…
Anna thought, wrapping her hand around his forearm.

When they gained his room, the sense of domestic peace came with them. Anna finished undressing him; he tucked her into his bed then set about using the wash water kept in ample supply by his hearth. The balcony doors were open, and a refreshing breeze wafted through the room. She watched his ablutions, finding him simply beautiful in the light of the single candle. It wasn’t even an erotic appreciation but something more possessive than that. He was beautifully built, of course, but the pensive expression on his face was beautiful to her, too.

He is the way he is because he cares, and maybe in this, he and his father can finally find some common ground.

When he wrung out the wet cloth and straightened, Anna flipped back the lavender-scented sheets. “Come to bed.”

“Your night rail, madam?” He held out a hand. “It is too hot for all that extra, Anna, and I promise I will not bother you.”

“So you’ve said,” she replied, pulling the nightgown over her head and handing it to him. “Did you lock the door?”

“Ye gods.” He padded through the dark and took care of the lock, blew out the candle, then climbed in beside her.

“I cannot remember the last time I spent the night with anyone other than a cat in my bed, save for our night at Willow Bend.” Anna settled on the mattress as she spoke.

“I could say the same thing.” The earl punched his pillow. “It would have different significance. Sorry.” He was apologizing for yanking inadvertently on her
pillow, but Anna let the apology cover his teasing, as well.

Anna folded her hands on her stomach as they both stretched out on their backs. “What awaits you tomorrow?”

“I’ll meet with His Grace,” the earl said. “Deliver Stenson his orders, probably call on Maggie, and try to toss enough work at Tolliver so we don’t get behind.”

Anna reached for his hand, prying it off his own stomach and lacing her fingers through it. “You should send a note around first thing to your brothers and go for your regular ride.”

“Instead of seeing if my father is still alive?” The earl’s frown was evident even in the darkness, but Anna was more aware that his fingers were closed around hers tightly.

“If he passes in the night you will receive word immediately. Lord Val will see to it. You enjoy your rides tremendously,” she went on. “Some days, I think it’s the only time you permit yourself to do what you please and not what you ought. And Pericles will not be around forever.”

“Using my horse’s welfare, Anna?”

“And your brothers need to see that though the duke may be failing, the earl is not; nor is the earl spending every waking minute in anticipation of his father’s demise. The earl is too sturdy to capitulate to anxiety like that and too well inured to his responsibilities. Death befalls us, and while it is sad, the duke has lived a very long and good life. Though he will be mourned, his passing will be in the natural order of things, as will the earl’s, when the time comes.”

He sighed and considered her point.

I love you,
he thought,
because you are honest with

me and because you are willing to speak the truth to me when others might seek to curry favor instead. I love you because you are in this bed with me, not trying to conceive the much-awaited next generation of Windhams, but just holding my
hand.

“I’ll go riding.”

“Good.” Anna rolled toward him, and in the dark he felt her moving on the mattress. She kissed his forehead and sighed. “Now go to sleep, Gayle Tristan Montmorency Windham. I will be here when you waken. I promise.”

She wrestled him then into the position she deemed best suited to his slumbers, leaving him lying in her arms, his face resting against her shoulder. She stroked his back in the same easy rhythm he often gave her, and Anna soon heard his breathing even out.

I will be here when you waken,
she thought,
but for how much longer, I do not know
.

The investigator sent north had precipitated the need the leave, and now, when the duke lay so ill, any temptation to confide in the earl was put to rest. He needed to be looking to his own and not to the troubles brought to him by his housekeeper.

Anna wrapped her arms around the future Duke of Moreland and sent up a heartfelt prayer for his happiness and her own safety.

The days and nights that followed saw shifts in the routine of the earl’s household. His morning ride
with his brothers, a casual habit earlier, became standard. Stenson’s departure brought a sense of relief to everyone, and Sterling, a quiet older gentleman recommended by no less than the Duke of Quimbey, brought order among the footmen.

And the nights…

The earl rose each morning, well rested and ready to face the day, because Anna shared his bed. The need for her hovered in regions Westhaven could not articulate. There was desire in it, but not enough that he initiated any seduction. The simple comfort of her presence was far more precious than any fleeting pleasure might be.

And he had the sense Anna was granting him the boon of her nightly company only because she was more determined than ever to go, and go soon. His Grace had enjoyed four days of continued freedom from chest pains, and the ducal household was beginning to admit to some cautious relief.

Watching Anna sleep, Westhaven frowned as he realized that when the duke was deemed safe from immediate danger, then Anna would likely go.

He would not allow that.
Could not.
Mentally, he kicked himself for not making the time to meet with Hazlit earlier in the week. He’d meet with him today, he vowed, if he had to pursue the man on foot through Seven Dials to see it done.