The Arrangement Read Online Free Page B

afternoon. “Don’t you like him, Mama?”
    I prevaricated. “It is just that I don’t know what to do to entertain an earl.”
    “I promised to show him Squirt,” Nicky said helpfully.
    I dropped a kiss on the top of his silky, light brown hair.
    “Time to get into bed,” I said.
    He turned to give me a hug. “Good night, Mama. See you with the sunshine!”
    It was our nightly ritual. “See you with the sunshine, sweetheart,” I returned.
    I waited until Nicky was in bed before I went down the passage to check that Mrs. Macintosh had made up a fire in the earl’s room.
    She had, and the bed was made up as well. The same was true for Grove’s room next door.
    Nothing would ever make those bedrooms attractive, but at least they were no longer frigid, and the chimneys were not smoking too badly.
    I did not climb right into my bed but sat for a long time in front of my bedroom fire, wrapped in a blanket and trying to decide what would be the best thing for me to do about this will.
    Nicky must not know anything about George.
    That was my chief consideration. My mind scurried first this way and then that, trying to fathom what course of action would best achieve that end. It was almost ten-thirty when I finally made up my mind.
    I would go to Savile Castle with the earl, but I would leave Nicky here at Deepcote with the Macintoshes.
    My reasoning went something like this: If I refused to accompany the earl, and Nicky was named as George’s son in his will, then the lawyers would be required to see that George’s wishes were carried out. They would seek us out and Nicky would learn what George had claimed.
    On the other hand, if I was present at the reading of the will, I could deny George’s claims and refuse the inheritance.
    Really, I thought, if I refuse to acknowledge George as the father of my child, who will be in a position to gainsay me?
    I had no choice, really. I had to go.
    I blew out my candle and got into the bed that I had once shared with Tommy.
    It was not my husband’s face that floated before my closed eyes, however, as I snuggled my head into my pillow and prepared to go to sleep.
    My last conscious thought was, How did he come to be given a French name like Raoul?
     

Chapter Three
     
    It was still snowing steadily when I awoke the following morning. I lit my fire and dressed quickly in front of its welcome heat. Mr. Macintosh had the stove going in the kitchen, and I ate a big bowl of oatmeal at the old oak table before I went down to the stable to feed the horses.
    The sky was just beginning to turn from black to leaden gray as I stepped out my front door. The snow was falling almost as heavily as it had the day before. Some of the drifts in the stable yard looked to be as high as my waist.
    Damn, I thought as I fought my way through the high-piled snow down to the stable. What was I going to do to entertain Savile if I was saddled with him for the entire day?
    I had to dig out around the stable door before I could open it, and when I finally entered, all the horses nickered eagerly. I set down the lantern I had been carrying and went to light the charcoal brazier, which would give off enough heat for me to do my chores with a fair degree of comfort.
    Then I climbed the ladder to the hayloft and began to drop hay down into the stalls.
    The nickering got louder as I went up the line of five stalls on the right side of the aisle, the horses on the left side growing impatient as they heard their comrades beginning to munch.
    By the time I had finished the last of the horses, the two ponies in the temporary pen at the end of the aisle were whinnying fretfully.
    “I’m coming, I’m coming.” I threw more hay down the ladder, climbed down, and took it into their makeshift stall.
    Quiet miraculously descended on the stable. The only noises were the crunching sounds the horses made as they ate and, from outside, the faint howling of the wind.
    I smiled. I loved morning in the stable. It was so