The Countess by Catherine Coulter Page A

struck again how kind he was, and so I said easily, “That’s right. You are a gentleman, Lawrence, just as Grandfather was a gentleman.” The moment the words were out of my mouth, I stalled. I just stared at him. To my absolute horror, I started crying.
    I swear I don’t know where those blasted tears came from, but they just seeped out of my eyes and trickled down my cheeks to drip off my chin. “Oh, goodness, I’m sorry.”
    When he helped me to my feet and pulled me against his chest, I didn’t hesitate. No one had held me after Grandfather’s death, no one until Peter had come. I relaxed against him. He was tall. He was comfortable. I cried and cried.
    His breath was soft and warm against my hair. “It’s all right. It has been a difficult time for you. That’s all right, Andrea, no, Andy. Just cry, my dear. That’s right.”
    I would have given up my port had he asked it of me, willingly. But he had chosen to indulge me. He was offering me companionship and friendship. He was giving me comfort. I was very lucky that he had come to see me, and had found me acceptable.
    I sobbed and hiccuped, then raised my face. “If you really don’t like it, I will stop drinking.”
    He laughed a bit and hugged me again. “No, a countess and her port shouldn’t be separated.”
    I would have killed for him at that moment. I smiled up at him through a veil of tears. “If you have any skeletons at all in your family closet, I swear upon my honor to keep quiet about them.”
    He paused for just the smallest moment, then said easily, “I would expect no less of you. Yourgrandfather raised you well. I hope you won’t be disappointed, but my ancestors have been a fairly staid lot, one succeeding the other without much fanfare, much scandal, much treachery. Well, perhaps a bit, but not all that much. But I appreciate your vow.
    â€œNow, my dear Andy, you have held up very well. I hope your new home, the new people you will meet, will help lessen your grief. But you know, my dear, grief is important. Eventually your memories of your grandfather will settle about you like a comfortable old cloak. They will comfort you, make you smile, perhaps even laugh, at the oddest moments.
    â€œMy shoulder will always be near should you desire to use it again.”
    â€œGod made you a very good man, sir,” I said, sniffed, and blew my nose on the handkerchief he handed me. “There are skeletons in my family, some quite scandalous ones actually, but none of them are old enough to be romantic.”
    â€œBetween us, we will contrive to come up with one excellent horrifying tale of the past to entertain us on cold winter evenings.”
    â€œWe must hurry, since winter is nearly upon us.”
    â€œI will check my history again to see what offensive lout I can dig up.”
    He walked me to my bedchamber, smiled down at me silently for a moment, and gave me a gentle pat on the cheek. “Pleasant dreams, my dearest Andy.”
    I watched him walk down the dimly lit corridor. He gave me a small wave before opening the door to his bedchamber. I wondered where his valet Flynt was sleeping. I personally wouldn’t want Flynt sleeping anywhere near me.
    I went inside to hear the delicate sleeping sighs ofMiss Crislock, and George’s loud snores. I remembered the steak bits I’d put aside for George. I’d left them wrapped in my napkin on the table. The thought of George’s delight in the morning when I presented him a bite of steak made me finally pick up a candle and make my way back downstairs. Perhaps the bosomy Betty hadn’t yet cleared everything away.
    â€œShe is very young.”
    I stopped instantly, my hand outstretched to turn the knob on the parlor door. It was a man’s voice, and I didn’t recognize it. It was coming from inside the parlor where Lawrence and I had shared our dinner, where I had cried for