Page 122 of The Heir

“I will, if you really want it. The stables are done, and the house is ready for somebody to live there.”

“I like it,” Anna said, “very much in fact, and I like the neighbors there. It’s large enough I could put in some greenhouses and an orangery and so on.”

“I’ll have the solicitors draw up some papers, but Anna?”

“Hmm?”

“You know I would give it to you,” he said despite the insult implied.

She waved a hand. “You are too generous, but thank you for the thought. Tell me again St. Just is not brooding. He took a man’s life, and even for a soldier, that cannot be an easy thing.”

“He will manage, Anna. Val and I will look after him, and he could not let your brother make off with you. The man did contemplate your murder, though we will never know how sincerely.”

“Dev knew”—Anna frowned—“and I knew. Helmsley wasn’t right. Something in him broke, morally or rationally. It’s awful of me, but I am glad he’s dead.”

“It isn’t awful of you. For entirely different reasons, I was glad when Victor died.” He wanted to hold her, to offer her at least the comfort of his embrace, but she wasn’t seeking it. “Are you up to a turn in the garden?”

“I am.” Anna smiled at him, but to him, it was forced, at best an expression of relief rather than pleasure. When they were a safe distance from the house, he paused and regarded her closely.

“You aren’t sleeping well,” he concluded. And neither was he, of course. “And you look like you’ve lost weight, Anna. Don’t tell me it’s the heat.”

“You’re looking a bit peaked yourself, and you’ve lost weight, as well.”

I miss you terribly.

“Are my parents treating you well?” the earl asked, resuming their sedate walk.

“They are lovely, Westhaven, and you knew they would be, or you wouldn’t have sent us here. I am particularly fond of your papa.”

“You are? That would be the Duke of Moreland?”

“Perhaps, though the duke has not been in evidence much. There’s a pleasant older fellow who bears you a resemblance, though. He delights in telling me stories about you and your brothers and sisters. He flirts with my grandmother and my sister, he adores his wife, and he is very, very proud of you.”

“I’ve met him. A recent acquaintance, but charming.”

“You should spend more time with him,” Anna said. “He is acutely aware that with Bart and Victor, he spent years being critical and competitive, when all he really wants is for his children to be happy.”

“Competitive? I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Well,” Anna stopped to sniff at a red rose, closing her eyes to inhale its fragrance. “You should. You have brothers, and it can’t be so different from sons.”

Tell me now, Anna, he silently pleaded as she ran her finger over a rose petal.Tell me I could have a son, that we could have a son, a daughter, a baby, a future—anything.

“How soon can I remove to Willow Bend?” she asked, that forced, bright smile on her face again.

“Tomorrow,” the earl said, blinking. “I trust you to complete the sales transaction, and the house will fare better occupied. It will please me to think of you there.” She stumbled, but his grip on her arm prevented her from falling.

“I have been dependent on the Windhams’ kindness long enough,” Anna said evenly. “I know Morgan and Grandmama will be glad to settle in somewhere.”

“Anna.” He paused with her again, knowing they would soon be back at the house, and Anna had every intention of moving out to Surrey, picking up the reins of her life, and riding out of his.

“How are you really?”

The bright, mendacious smile faltered.

“I am coping,” she said, staring out across the beds of flowers. “I wake up sometimes and don’t know where I am. I think I must see to your lemonade for the day or wonder if you’re already in the park on Pericles, and then I realize I am not your housekeeper anymore. I am not your anything anymore, and the future is this great, yawning, empty unknown I can fill with what? Flowers?”

She offered that smile, but he couldn’t bear the sight of it and pulled her against his chest.