The Duchess Read online

  Duchess, she thought. She was going to marry Harry and become the duchess.

  She wouldn’t allow herself to think anymore as she got up from the dressing table and walked to the bed. Thanks to her exhaustion and the cold of the day she fell asleep quickly.

  She was awakened before dawn by an angry Miss Rogers, who informed her that she had to get dressed because the men were leaving early to go hunting.

  Claire dressed in her habit, which was still damp from the day before, without saying a word and made her way downstairs. The men were already mounted and waiting for her. Harry looked radiant with happiness and slapped her on the back when she was atop her horse.

  She spent a second day crouched in a wet butt with rain pouring down on her. Every hour or so Harry would smile at her and tell her more about the wonderful shotguns he was going to give her for a wedding gift.

  When she got back to the house, there was a hot bath waiting for her and a teapot set on a tray with a cup and saucer. When Miss Rogers entered the room, Claire was sedately sipping whisky from her cup.

  On the third day she was again up before dawn. When she was downstairs Harry informed her that today they were going after rabbits and quail. That meant Claire got to walk across marshy land in the cold drizzle and watch the men slaughter a couple of hundred rabbits. Harry promised to buy her her own bird dog as an additional wedding present.

  By the time Claire returned to the house, she was so cold she wasn’t feeling anything. But more important, she wasn’t allowing herself to think anything either. Harry had talked about shooting deer the next day. Claire was afraid that the sight of the death of one of those soft-eyed deer she sometimes saw wandering about might make her cry.

  She creamed her face, then climbed into bed and tried to go to sleep, but a noise made her jump. In the dim light of the room she saw the big portrait on the wall move and knew that the door to the tunnel was opening.

  She forgot her exhaustion as she leaped out of bed and ran toward the door. “Trevelyan!” she gasped.

  The door opened but, instead of Trevelyan, there stood her bratty little sister holding a candle.

  Claire turned away. “You should be in bed,” she said tiredly and went back to her own bed.

  Brat shut the tunnel door, put the candle on the bedside table, and climbed up on the big four-poster bed. “I hear you’ve become a hunter.”

  “A regular Diana,” Claire murmured, then grimaced at Brat’s puzzled look. “If you’d ever bothered to open a book, you’d know that Diana is the goddess of the hunt.”

  Brat smiled at her sister. “I’ll bet Harry knows all about gods and goddesses. Is that what the two of you talk about all day? Or do you practice your Italian and French on each other? Maybe you discuss politics or religion, or maybe you talk about the history of the Scots. Maybe you talk about all the things you plan to do around this place when you’re the duchess.”

  Claire’s lips tightened. “Would you please go to bed?”

  “What do you and Harry talk about?”

  “That happens to be none of your business.”

  Brat stretched out across the foot of the bed. “Have you seen Captain Baker?”

  “No, I have not. Nor do I plan to see him. To tell you the truth, I’ve been so busy I’ve not even thought about him.”

  Brat turned on her back, her hands behind her head and looked up at the canopy overhead. “I thought Trevelyan was the most unusual man I have ever met in my life. Did you see all the things he has in his room? He must have been a lot of places.”

  “If you spent some of your time doing something besides eavesdropping and such, and read any of Captain Baker’s books, you’d know just how many places he’s been and all that he’s seen. He is a great man.”

  “So why did you get so mad at him when he married Harry’s sister?”

  Claire opened her mouth twice to speak, but closed it. “You wouldn’t understand,” she said at last.

  “It was because of what you said about his being a hero, wasn’t it? He’s been a hero of yours but he’s just ordinary, isn’t he?”

  “He is far from ordinary. He’s…” She looked up sharply. “You have to go to bed.”

  “Do you have as much fun with Harry as you do with Captain Baker?”

  “Of course I do. What a ridiculous question. Harry is the man I love. I want to spend as much time with him as I can. Captain Baker is nothing to me. Except that he’s Harry’s relative and I have to be nice to him.”

  “You were just being nice to him when you spent those three days nursing him, weren’t you?” Brat gave her a sly look. “Did you take all his clothes off?”

  “Out!” Claire said. “Get out of here at once.”

  Brat didn’t move. “Be careful or you’ll wake the old dragon,” she said, meaning Miss Rogers. “Did you hear what happened after Leatrice got married?”

  Claire wanted to tell her precocious sister that she wasn’t interested, but she couldn’t. “No,” she said softly, “I didn’t hear.”

  “The old hag, the old duchess, nearly died of apoplexy. She had a fit of some sort. Rumor has it she was foaming at the mouth.”

  “That’s difficult to believe.” Claire wasn’t going to encourage her sister, but she wanted to hear all of it. “Harry said—”

  “Harry doesn’t know. He was out hunting.” Brat gave Claire a look that showed she was laughing at her sister. “By the time Harry returned the old woman was cooing again. Of course that’s all she does when Harry’s around. But I heard she was threatening to kill whoever was responsible for Leatrice getting married. I think she was trying to punish her daughter for something and she didn’t think the punishment was finished yet.”

  “I’m sure the gossip you heard was wrong.”

  “Mmmmm” was all Brat would say. “If Harry had to choose between you and his mother, who do you think he’d choose?”

  “I’m not going to answer that question.” Claire didn’t want to think what the answer might be.

  Brat was silent for a moment. “Do you miss Trevelyan?”

  “Of course not. I have plenty to keep me busy.”

  Brat laughed. “They’re saying in the kitchen that your habit is never going to get dry. It smells so awful they have to hang it in a room by itself.”

  “Then I shall have to buy another.”

  “And another and another and another. You’re going to need lots of them if you marry Harry. Do you think you’ll spend your life with him doing nothing but hunting?”

  “No, of course not. I’ll…” Claire trailed off, trying to think what she’d do after she was married.

  “Do you think Captain Baker will ever get married?”

  “Absolutely not! His kind never marries. Or if they do, they leave their wives crying somewhere while they go off to explore other places and…and other women.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I know him very well. I’ve read everything he’s ever written and everything that’s been written about him. I know him very, very well.”

  “It was nice of him to help Leatrice that way. He was risking a lot. If he’d been caught, I’d hate to think what the old hag would have done to him.”

  “It wasn’t kindness, it was—” She grimaced. “I don’t know why he did it. I’m sure he plans to write about it.”

  “I thought you said he writes about everything. Did you see the cartoons he made of you?”

  “Yes, I saw them.” Claire’s head came up. “When did you see them?”

  “Yesterday morning. I went to see him and—”

  “You what? Have you been seeing him?” Claire grabbed her sister’s arm. “After the vulgar things he said to you? I don’t trust him alone with you. He—”

  “He’s a very nice man and he never touches me, if that’s what worries you.”

  Claire released her sister’s arm and leaned back against the pillows. “No, I don’t think he would. He is an honorable man—in his own odd way.” She