The Arrangement Read Free Page A

by himself.”
    The earl had finished his soup. He poured himself a glass of wine.
    “Would you like some more soup, sir?” Nicky asked.
    He added proudly, “All of the vegetables in it are from my garden.”
    I said, “I feel that I must explain to you, my lord, that the soup is the dinner. There is plenty more of it, however.”
    “In that case, I will have another bowl,” the earl said.
    Nicky jumped up from his seat and went to do the honors.
     

Chapter Two
     
    As dinner consisted of only two courses, the soup and a pudding for dessert, we were not at the table for very long. When the meal was over, I sent Nicky upstairs to do his studying and invited the earl to join me in the drawing room for a glass of the sherry I kept for Mr. Ludgate when he came to visit.
    I even took a glass of sherry myself. Unfortunately, there was no way to avoid hearing what had brought Savile to see me, and I thought that I was likely going to need all the fortification I could get.
    The two least dilapidated of my grayish drawing-room chairs were placed on opposite sides of the fireplace and I invited Savile to take one. I sat in the other, drank half of my sherry, and placed the glass on an old walnut table within my reach.
    For ten long seconds we regarded each other in silence across the tattered rug.
    Then, “You’re not what I expected,” he said abruptly.
    I lifted my chin. “I cannot imagine what your lordship means.”
    “Can you not?” He took a sip of his drink and watched me over the rim of the glass. That was when I realized that his eyes weren’t an ordinary light brown at all, but amber-gold, like the sherry.
    I looked away from him, into the leaping flames of the fire. “No, I can’t,” I said. My muscles were tensed against the blow I feared was coming. I struggled to keep my face expressionless.
    He lowered his wineglass. “I have come here to Surrey directly from Devane Hall, Mrs. Saunders,” he said. “I am afraid that I bring you the news that Lord Devane is dead.”
    It was not what I had expected to hear. I kept my face carefully guarded and very still, and after a moment I asked, “Why should you think I would care about that?”
    “I think you might care very much when you learn that your son is named in Lord Devane’s will,” Savile returned. I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was leaning back in his chair, watching me.
    I shut my eyes.
    Finally, “How is Nicky named?” I asked desperately.
    “I don’t know precisely what is written in George’s will,” the earl answered. “All I know for certain is that my cousin left him some money.”
    I stared despairingly into the fire. “Tell me about it.”
    I could feel Savile looking at my averted face. “It happened less than a week ago. George overturned his phaeton and was caught under one of the wheels. It crushed his chest.”
    He paused, as if expecting some response from me.
    “How sad,” I said, my eyes still fixed upon the fire.
    “Indeed it was,” Savile replied. “My cousin was not yet dead, however, when they carried him into the house.”
    Too bad, I thought grimly.
    “We put him into his bed and sent for the doctor,” Savile went on. “Lady Devane fainted when we carried George in, so it was left to me to stay with him as we waited for the doctor to arrive.”
    The earl picked up his glass and took another sip of sherry. “I had thought he was unconscious, but when we were alone his eyes opened and fixed themselves upon me with such an expression of pained urgency…”
    Oh damn, I thought. Damn, damn, damn.
    “He said my name,” Savile continued. “It was hard to understand him, because when he talked, blood and saliva bubbled from his mouth, but he kept repeating my name.”
    The fire I was watching snapped and crackled, and I wanted to hold up my hands to push away what I was afraid was coming next, but there was nothing I could do.
    Savile continued his tale. “ ‘Yes, George,’ I said, leaning