The Countess by Catherine Coulter

saved him, barely. He had a very stubborn chin, but even that chin of his,

tilted at just the right angle, made one want to run one’s fingers over his face

and just stare at him. It was disconcerting. I happened to look over at John to

see that he’d raised an eyebrow at me.

“Sorry,” I said. “I can’t help it.”

“Most ladies can’t,” John said. “Try to contain yourself.”

“I will try.”

Brantley returned then to direct the serving of the dinner. It was a very formal

ritual, one obviously performed many times, much more formal than the one

Grandfather and I had always observed. Miss Crislock would doubtless be pleased

at this ruthless ceremony. She was the one who kept Grandfather and me to a

reasonable dining schedule. She had always insisted that we dress for dinner,

something Grandfather and I grumbled about, but did because it was important to

her.

I watched the two footmen, Jasper and Timothy, move silently about the table,

making no unnecessary noise at all. They were also so well trained that they

easily pretended they weren’t listening when the earl spoke easily of the

weather, the state of the grass in the east lawn, or even when he slipped into a

more controversial area?the damned Whigs, a never-ending misery to be endured,

since they couldn’t be lined up and summarily shot.

It wasn’t until Brantley nodded the footmen to the far side of the dining room

and stood himself against the closed door, that Lawrence turned to John, who had

just raised a fork with turkey and chestnut pastry on it, and said, “I had

thought you planned to remain at Devbridge. Is there some chance that you will

not remain here and begin to learn our estate management?”

John frowned at his turkey and pasty, ate it, saying nothing until he’d

swallowed. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and

said very deliberately, “You have just married a young lady, Uncle, a very young

lady. She appears immensely healthy. It seems obvious that there will be an heir

in the not-too-distant future. I can now see no reason for me to learn how to

manage the estates. You will raise your future son just as an heir should be

raised.

The lad will doubtless know all the estate management he needs to know by the

time he is twelve. There will be no need for me to hang about, cluttering up the

dining table.”

Lawrence raised his wineglass to me and silently shook his head. He said to John,

his voice as cold as a late winter wind howling over the Yorkshire moors, “I

have said this before, and I will say it again. You, John, are my heir. You will

remain my heir. Therefore, you must prepare yourself to someday take my place.

There is nothing more to be said.”

“But, Uncle Lawrence,” Thomas said, waving one slender, beautifully shaped hand

toward me, “John is right. She is very young. Why else would you marry except to

get yourself an heir?”

“Man cannot live by heirs alone,” I said.

Dead silence.

Why hadn’t I kept my mouth shut?

Chapter Seven

Amelia choked out the sip of wine she’d taken. John choked on a bite of baked

trout, then loudly cleared his throat.

Thomas was banging his fist against his wife’s back.

Lawrence looked as if he would like to throw me through the dining room window,

but he didn’t. Thank goodness for his restraint. Indeed, on second look, I

thought perhaps he was trying not to laugh. He wasn’t angry at me, a blessed

relief. But I still wanted to ask why bloody men believed that a wife’s only

purpose was to produce a boy child. I suppose I was surprised that both John and

Thomas viewed Lawrence’s marriage to me in that light only, and I shouldn’t have

been. I was a well-bred mare whose function was to produce a boy child-?nothing

more.

“Perhaps,” I said, knowing I should keep chewing my own turkey and chestnuts,

instead of diving into such muddy waters, “your uncle found me quite to his

liking, and that is why he married me. After all,

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