Lord Deverill's Heir by Catherine Coulter (books to read for 13 year olds .txt) đź“•
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- Author: Catherine Coulter
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“Yes,” he said now to Elsbeth, “our time grows short. I must be gone by the end of the week.”
Elsbeth started forward. “Oh no, it cannot be so. Gervaise, I cannot let you go away from me. I have just found you and I won’t want to lose you.
No, please.” Tears filled her eyes. She gulped, trying to control herself, but she couldn’t. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “It isn’t fair. Arabella has everything—truly, even if she doesn’t appear to enjoy what she has. Even Lady Ann is now her own mistress; she can do anything she wishes to. It’s only I who have been the supplicant all my life, the one outside, the one nobody wants. I can’t bear it. Please, I don’t want to be alone again.”
He couldn’t bear it, this pain in her that colored everything she thought, everything she said. But he had no alternative. The comte gently flicked away the tears and said, “We must be brave, Elsbeth. This is, after all, the earl’s territory, as I told you. His decisions, whatever his motives may be, must govern the actions of those about him. In short, I have no choice in the matter.”
“Did you not tell him that you didn’t wish to leave? Did you not tell him that you and I love each other and do not want to be separated?”
“I did,” the comte said, without an instant of hesitation, “but he did not care. As I said, I believe he hates me.” Elsbeth sagged to her knees. She had lost Josette, and now she could lose Gervaise as well. “I know,” she said, suddenly hope filling her, “I will speak to the earl. Perhaps he will listen to me. He has been very kind to me since he arrived here. Actually, he has been kinder to me than he has to Arabella, and she is his wife. No, I shall speak with Lady Ann, for she, I know, loves me. I will tell her of our love, that we wish to wed as soon as possible, that I shall die of unhappiness if you are forced to leave me.”
He knew momentary panic at the thought of her speaking either to the earl or to Lady Ann. She could ruin everything through her stupidity and ignorance. He had to make her understand. He had to control her. “Listen to me, Elsbeth. As I said, I already told the earl of our feelings for each other. Doubtless he will tell Lady Ann. But don’t you see? It doesn’t matter. He does not want you to be with me and thus, he will convince Lady Ann of his opinion. Ah, my little one, I forbid you to demean yourself in such a fashion.” He grasped her slender arms and shook her. “No, that is not the way. Listen to me, Elsbeth, we will make other plans. You will accompany Lady Ann to London when her period of mourning is over. I will meet you there and we will flee together. It will be as nothing for us to do. I will take you to Bruxelles.” The misery fell from her face at his words. Her eyes filled with excitement. “Oh, my dearest love, it is a fine plan. I know that you can do anything. How romantic it will be. With my ten thousand pounds, we shall not have to worry about anything. You are so very clever, Gervaise, you will wisely invest it and make us terribly rich.” He was satisfied. Now, at least, he need have no further worries about Elsbeth.
Suddenly her eyes dimmed. “But, Gervaise, Lady Ann will not wish to go to London for another six months. Must we be parted for such a long time?
No, I cannot bear it. Say there is another way.” The comte snapped his fingers. “We have spent years without knowing each other, what is a mere six months? You will see, little cousin, that the time will fly.”
She sensed he was growing impatient with her. She said quickly, “I suppose you are right, but allow me to say that I will miss you terribly.”
“And I you.” He nodded, pleased.
He prepared to rise. She took him off his guard when she grabbed his hand and cried, “Please stay with me now. It has been so very long, since before Josette died. Stay with me. I want you, truly I do.” He was stunned. The thought of making love to her—no, it was impossible.
It was beyond impossible. It made his stomach clench. But he couldn’t tell her, no. He tried to find calm, to speak gently yet firmly, to cloak the bitterness that gnawed at his guts. “Elsbeth, listen to me. I don’t think we should meet like this again. The earl knows about us since I told him. He might become even more vicious. He might order me to leave before the end of the week. I don’t want to leave you until I am forced to. Thus, we must take care now. No more meetings here, Elsbeth. No, don’t cry. You know that taking you gives me great pleasure, but it would be fatal to our plans were we to be discovered or even suspected. Surely you must realize that. We must think of the future.” Elsbeth was so caught up in the tragic vision of her and Gervaise being torn from each other that the gift of her body now seemed to be her ultimate pledge of her faith and love. Passion flowed through her. “Just one last time, then, Gervaise. Hold me and love me just this last time.” The urgency in her voice, the passion shining from her dark eyes stirred revulsion in him—not at her—but at himself. Yet he could not let her doubt him. He forced himself not to
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