The Duchess Read online

  “What are you doing up at this time of night?” Claire asked. “And what disgusting thing are you wearing?”

  “I’m Salome and I’m supposed to get to dance but he says we don’t have time.”

  The skinny man made an elaborate bow to Claire. “Camelot J. Montgomery at your service, ma’am.”

  Claire looked about the room, with its stage and its red plush chairs in front and its oddly dressed occupants, and opened her mouth to ask questions. But she didn’t have time. She looked at her sister. “I need you.”

  “Can’t find your way back?” Brat asked, smiling. “I charge for guiding. And speaking of garments, what are you wearing?”

  Claire ignored the last question. “I need you for more than guiding, and I’ll pay whatever you charge.”

  At that Brat’s eyes opened wide and she smiled happily. “I’ll see you later, Cammy,” she called over her shoulder and led Claire into the tunnels.

  Claire had no idea how Brat found her way around the tunnels, for they looped and turned every which way, but they were soon at the door that led into Claire’s room.

  “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” Brat said as soon as they entered the room. There was no need to say who “he” was.

  “Help me dress. I’m going to Edinburgh with him.”

  Brat’s eyes widened at that. “You’re running away from Harry?”

  “Of course not. Trevelyan is in trouble. Someone shot at him tonight and I think it’s that man Powell. Trevelyan is going into Edinburgh to get the Pearl of the Moon.”

  Brat gave her sister a sly look. “Do you know what the Pearl of the Moon is?”

  Claire paused in taking a wool traveling dress from the wardrobe. “Do you?”

  “Maybe. How long will you be gone?”

  “I don’t know. A few days, no more.”

  “You’re going to spend the night with Vellie?”

  “I told you not to call him that.”

  Brat grinned. “Because it’s your name for him?”

  Claire was busy pulling on underwear. “Help me fasten this corset and don’t talk so much.”

  Brat helped her sister dress as hurriedly as possible. “What are you going to do about Harry?” Brat asked.

  “What do you mean, what am I going to do about Harry? I’m not going to do anything. We had a lovers’ quarrel, that’s all.”

  “And now you’re running off with another man.”

  Claire paused in dressing. “I am most certainly not running off with another man, as you put it. Trevelyan helped me with Leatrice. You know that, you were there. Now Trevelyan needs help and I plan to help him. Besides, Trevelyan isn’t really a man, he’s…he’s an institution. He’s a scholar. He belongs to the world, and it’s my duty as a citizen of the world to help him.”

  “Balderdash,” Brat said. “You like him. You adore him. When he walks into a room your whole face lights up.”

  Claire finished buttoning her dress. “I think you have him mixed up with Harry. I love Harry. I adore Harry and my face, if it does light up, lights for Harry. Trevelyan and I are friends, or maybe we aren’t friends, since he tends to study me, but—”

  “Are you talking about those pictures he draws? He draws pictures of everybody. You should see what he drew of me. He made my face very old but my body is…” Brat grinned. “You never saw such a figure as he gave me! And he drew Cammy and me, and he drew me with Aunt May, and he drew me with the thieving aunts. You should see his pictures of Harry and his mother.”

  Claire paused as she put clothes in a leather bag. “Everybody?”

  “And he writes about everybody too. Oman says he’s had to add two tables to the room for Vellie’s writings about our family. Oman says Vellie is now fascinated with Americans.”

  Claire put her hairbrush and bottles of creams in the case, and, as an afterthought, she slipped a large bottle of MacTarvit whisky into the case. Since her first hunting expedition, the butler had kept her supplied with the whisky. “I think you talk to too many people. I think this house is a bad influence on you.”

  “This house and these people are perfect for me.” Brat smiled at her sister. “Can you say the same thing? Do you fit in here? Or do you fit in better with those people living in those nasty little white cottages? Do you fit with Harry or with Trevelyan?”

  Claire snapped the case shut. She had no intention of answering her sister. “I think you know what to do while I’m gone. Lie to the best of your ability, which I must say is stupendous in its magnitude. Perhaps you should take up writing fiction. Lying comes so easily to you. Now come and give me a kiss. I won’t see you for a while.”

  Brat quickly kissed her sister’s cheek, then, on impulse, she hugged her fiercely. “Be careful. I wouldn’t like for you to be shot. There are bad things in this house as well as good.”

  “If you mean Harry’s mother, I’m sure I’m safe from her. After all, she wants my money.”

  “A lot of people want your money.”

  Claire was at the door. “Including you. Now behave yourself and don’t wear all of my jewels at once.”

  Brat stood and looked at the closed door once her sister was gone. “I don’t want your money,” she whispered. “I want you to stop crying.” She turned away, went to the box that held Claire’s jewels, and withdrew a ruby necklace. “And maybe I’d like to stop being the poor one,” she whispered, holding the jewels up to the light.

  “No,” Trevelyan said from inside the carriage, then banged on the roof with his cane.

  The carriage didn’t move and Claire climbed inside. “I’m going with you and that’s final. You can’t stop me without raising a great fuss and waking people up and letting them know you’re here.”

  “Half of the household knows where I am. Thanks to all the people who troop in and out of my rooms there’s no possibility of keeping my presence a secret.”

  Claire settled herself on the seat across from him, noting that for once he was dressed, rather surprisingly, in perfectly cut, fashionable attire. “Then that’s more of a reason for me to go with you. I can protect you.”

  At that Trevelyan gave a derisive laugh. “You protect me? You can’t even protect yourself from one crippled old woman.”

  His barb hurt, and Claire looked away from him.

  Trevelyan was silent for a moment. “All right, maybe no one can protect himself from her. But you won’t need to protect me from Jack Powell. He wasn’t the one who tried to kill me.”

  “Then who was?” As she said this Claire stuck her head out the carriage window and told Oman to drive. When the carriage started, Claire leaned back in the seat and smiled at Trevelyan.

  Trevelyan watched her for a moment. It was quite dark in the carriage, the only light coming from the lanterns on the outside. “You’re not going for me, you’re going because you’re bored.”

  “I am not bored. Well, maybe just a little. With Harry gone I—”

  “With Harry gone you’re free. You can slip out of the house and no one else will notice. Actually, even if Harry were here he probably wouldn’t notice where you were. I hear you’re getting shotguns for a wedding present.”

  “I’d prefer not to talk about me and I’d definitely rather we didn’t talk about Harry and me. Why don’t you tell me about finding the Pearl of the Moon? Is it a very large pearl?”

  “The Pearl of the Moon isn’t a thing, it’s a person. To be specific, it’s a she. She’s the head of the Peshan religion.”

  “You mean a sort of priestess?”

  Trevelyan gave a one-sided grin. “Rather more like a princess. Or possibly a goddess, from the way she’s treated.”

  Claire blinked at him.

  Trevelyan smiled. “You want me to get Oman to stop the coach? Let you out? You don’t look as though you like the idea of rescuing a woman. Would you rather it was the largest pearl in the world? I wouldn’t risk my neck for a pearl of any size.”

  Claire was trying to absorb what he was s