The Heir

“You look healthy,” Dev said. “If I did not know you were sporting the remains of a bullet wound, I would think you in the pink.”

“Thank you.” A

“Well”—Val sat down and reached for the iced lemonade pitcher—“I did not sleep well. We need another thunderstorm.”

“I wonder.” A

“She does,” he replied, sitting back. “She figured out that the day your parents died, when she was trapped in the buggy accident, it stormed the entire afternoon. Her associations are still quite troubling, but her ears don’t physically hurt.” Dev and A

Dev turned his attention back to his plate. “A

“As ready as I’ll be,” A

“Would you like me to cut that for you?” Dev asked, nodding at the meat on her plate. “I’ve pulled a shoulder now and then or landed fu

“I just haven’t entirely regained my appetite,” A

She was gone before they were on their feet, leaving Dev and Val both frowning.

“We offered to assist him in any way,” Dev said, picking up his glass. “I think this goes beyond even fraternal devotion.”

“He’s doing what he thinks is right,” Val responded. “I have had quite enough of my front-row seat, Dev. Tragedy has never been my cup of tea.”

“Nor farce mine.”

She didn’t see him for a week.

The time was spent dozing, trying on the new dresses that had arrived from the dressmaker’s, getting to know the duke’s daughters, and being reunited with her grandmother. That worthy dame was in much better form than A

“It took a good year,” Grandmama reported, “but the effects of my apoplexy greatly diminished after that. Still, it did not serve to let Helmsley know I was so much better. He wasn’t one to let me off the estate, but I was able to correspond, as you know.”

“Thank God for loyal i

“And thank God for young earls,” Grandmother said. “That traveling coach was the grandest thing, A

“He isn’t my young man.” A

“Fine-looking fellow,” Grandmama remarked i

“You’ve met him?”

“Morgan and I ran into him and his younger brother when she took me to the park yesterday. Couple of handsome devils. In my day, bucks like that would have been brought to heel.”

“This isn’t your day”—A

“Your dear grandfather gave me permission to remarry, you know.” Grandmother peered at a tray of sweets as she spoke. “At the time, I told him I could never love another, and I won’t—not in the way I loved him.”

“But?” A

“But he knew me better than I know myself. Life is short, A

“What do you mean?” A

“He was too alone up there in Yorkshire.” Grandmother bit into a chocolate. “The only boy, then being raised by an old man, too isolated. There’s a reason boys are sent off to school at a young age. Put all those barbarians together, and they somehow civilize each other.”

“Westhaven wasn’t sent to school until he was fourteen,” A

“Civilized, handsome, well heeled, titled.” Grandmother looked up from the tray of sweets. “What on earth is not to like?”

A

“My dear girl.” Her grandmother peered up at her. “Yorkshire is cold, bleak, and lonely much of the year. It is a foolish place to try to grow flowers, and were it not the family seat, your grandfather and I would have removed to Devon long ago. Now, have a sweet, as your disposition is in want of same.”

She picked out a little piece of marzipan shaped like a melon and smiled encouragingly at her granddaughter. A

“A

“My grandmother is wearing me out,” A

“And you,” the earl responded, reluctant to drop her hands. “But I come with sad news.”

“My brother?”

The earl nodded, searching her eyes.

“He passed away last night but left you a final gift,” the earl said, drawing her to sit beside him on a padded window seat. “He wrote out a confession, implicating Stull and himself in all ma

“My brother is dead.” A

“He was adamant he wasn’t trying to shoot you. Dev spent some time with him, and though your brother considered murdering you for money, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He insisted the gun went off by accident.”

“And Dev?” A

“It is like you to think of St. Just. But A

“Dev served on the Peninsula for nearly eight years,” A

“Then where will you live? I thought you were going to bow to the wishes of your family and remove to Yorkshire?”

“My family.” A

“Even tarts have to live somewhere.”

“Will you sell me Willow Bend?” She looked as surprised by her question as he was, as if it had just popped into her head.

I’d give it to you, he wanted to say. But that would be highly improper.

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

“I like it,” A

“I’ll have the solicitors draw up some papers, but A

“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 ca

“He will manage, A