Page 79 of The Heir
“Please assure me,” he said, glancing over at her, “you have no living husband.”
“I have no living husband,” Anna recited. But this time, the earl was paying attention, and he raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“That is the truth,” Anna remonstrated. “We are merely fornicating, not committing adultery.”
He cracked a dry smile. “My dear, we are not even fornicating.”
“Not yet.” She offered him the same smile back.
“Are you a convicted felon?” he asked, puzzling over it.
“I am not charged with anything that I know of,” Anna said, “but you can cease the interrogation, Westhaven. I am fond of you, too.”
She sat up, hugging her knees, and Westhaven had the sense she was fighting back tears. Surely there was no more damning testament to a man’s seductions than that they left a woman in tears? He reached out and stroked his hand over her elegant spine.
“You are fond of me, but you are leaving me anyway.” She nodded once, her back to him, and he felt her heart breaking. With gentle force, he dragged her back into his arms and held her while she cried.
When the hamper had been repacked, Anna stood beside the earl in the stables, waiting for Pericles to be harnessed to the gig.
“Penny for them,” the earl said softly. He was standing just a hair too close to her, but there was nobody save the young stable hand to see, and much to Westhaven’s pleasure, Anna let herself drift back against him.
“It is lovely here,” Anna said. “You are to be commended for taking such care with a sister’s welfare.”
He heard the wistful, almost despairing note in her voice, and knew with absolute conviction Anna Seaton’s brother had somehow disappointed her or played her false. His mind turned back to those ideas, the ones he’d been formulating earlier about how to uncover Anna’s troubles and assist her with them.
“I love my sisters. As any brother should love a sister.”
“They don’t all—brothers, that is,” Anna said, stepping away from him. “Some of them love their gold more or their drink or their flashy Town habits. Being a sister is sometimes not much more of a bargain than being a wife.”
“You simply have to choose the right brother”—Westhaven smiled at her gently—“or the right husband. I have enjoyed our time here, Anna. I hope you did, as well.”
“Even when I cried,” she said, a world of resignation in her tone, “I was glad to be here with you, Westhaven. Believe that, if you believe nothing else of me.”
He handed her into the gig, puzzling over that comment. They were halfway back to Town, Anna tucked shamelessly close to him even in the heat, before his brain woke from its stupor.
What she had meant was: Even when I criedbecause I must leave you, I was glad to be here with you… Believe that if you believe nothing else of mewhen I find the courage to finally go.
The hot, lovely day suddenly became ominous, and where Anna wasn’t touching him, he was chilled.
Morgan stood beside Val when they’d left Viscount Fairly’s townhouse andlistened. Fairly had worked a miracle, gently and thoroughly cleaning her ears, explaining that she had scar tissue complicating the natural process and her hearing would always be impaired. She thought he was daft, as she heard everything.
“It’s loud,” she said wonderingly. “But sweet, too. Like your music. The sounds all go together to say something.”
“Let’s walk home through the park,” Val suggested, offering his arm. “You can hear birds singing, hear the water in the Serpentine, hear the children playing… I never realized how happy the park sounds.”
“There’s so much…” Morgan took a deep breath and fell in step beside him. “I would never go anywhere I didn’t know well, because I could not stop to ask directions. I was confined to those places Anna would take me or that someone else would escort me to. I could not get lost; I could not need assistance.”
“That has changed. You may get lost several times a day, just to hear people give you directions. Are your ears hurting?”
“They are…” Morgan frowned. “Not hurting from the viscount’s treatment but throbbing, it feels like, with sounds. I’m pleased beyond telling to hear your voice, Lord Valentine.”
“Val,” he said easily. “I’d like to hear you say my name.”
“Valentine Windham.” Morgan smiled at him. “Musician and friend to hard-of-hearing chambermaids.”
“Did you ask Fairly if the cure is temporary?”
“It is. If I don’t look after my ears, they can get into the same state, particularly if I let quacks poke at me and bring me more infections and bleeding and scarring. He gave me an ear syringe and his card, should I have questions. However did you meet such a man?”
