The Duchess Read online

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you were saying,” she said to Harry.

  He reached across the tea table to take her hand. “If you’re waiting for Trevelyan to come to you, he won’t. He’s not a man who can be owned.”

  “But he said that he loved me,” Claire cried in despair.

  Harry leaned away from her and she was sure she had offended him deeply. “Did he?” Harry asked softly. “I don’t remember hearing that he’s done that before.”

  Claire looked away and tried to blink away her tears. At one time the library had been her prime interest in life, but now all she could think about was Trevelyan. If he did love her, why didn’t he come for her? How could he allow her to spend time with another man? Was he with Nyssa? Had he already replaced her with another woman?

  Harry very kindly arranged for the two of them to have a private supper in the library, but Claire couldn’t eat much. She picked at her food, pushing it around on her plate. Harry made a few attempts at conversation but became silent after he met with Claire’s monosyllabic replies.

  After supper Claire was so tired that she could hardly drag herself up to her bedroom and undress herself. Yet, when she was in bed, she couldn’t sleep. She lay still and looked at the underside of the canopy.

  When the portrait on the wall moved, she leaped out of the bed and ran to it. “Vellie!” she said, hope in her voice. He had come for her.

  But it wasn’t Trevelyan at the door but her sister, Brat. Claire turned away and listlessly went back to bed.

  “You shouldn’t be up,” Claire said, but more from habit than because she meant it.

  To Claire’s consternation, Brat climbed in bed with her and hugged her sister tightly.

  “What’s going on?” Brat whispered. “I don’t understand anything.”

  Claire hadn’t thought her little sister was capable of being a child. Sarah Ann seemed to have been born old and knowledgeable. Yet this was a child who was hugging her now.

  “I’m going to marry Harry,” Claire said. She wasn’t going to lie to the child.

  “But you love Trevelyan and he loves you.”

  Claire took a deep breath. “Sometimes there’s more to marriage than just love. Sometimes other things have to be considered.”

  “You mean me, don’t you? You’re going to marry Harry so you can get the money and keep me from being poor.”

  “What an absurd idea. I’m not doing any such thing. Harry is a lovely man. I agreed to marry him because I loved him, not for money. I’m sure Harry and I will have a very nice life together. I shall do something with this place and the other ones Harry owns. I’ll bring them into the nineteenth century. We’ll put bathrooms all over this monster house. You’ll like that, won’t you? You’ll like living here, won’t you? You said that you loved this house and all the people in it.”

  Sarah Ann took a deep breath. “I love you too. And I love Trevelyan and I love Nyssa.” And I love Harry, she thought, but she didn’t say that. Since Harry had returned he looked to be as sad as Claire. Sarah Ann knew the two of them were forcing themselves to marry. But why? That was what she didn’t understand.

  “When did this happen? I thought you hated Nyssa. She can say some cruel things at times.”

  “She doesn’t mean them. She’s…I don’t know, I think I love her because she’s happy. I don’t know many happy people.”

  “I’m happy,” Claire said.

  “No, you’re not. You aren’t happy and Trevelyan isn’t happy, Harry is unhappy and everybody’s sad. I don’t like it here anymore. I want to go home to New York.”

  Claire stroked her sister’s hair. “We don’t have a home in New York anymore,” she said softly. “We don’t have Father’s yacht or the house in the country either. All we have is millions of dollars that we can’t touch unless I get married. And I must marry a man who’ll help me take care of the money.”

  “I don’t think I like money. I think you should marry Trevelyan.”

  Claire managed to smile. “And go away and live in a hut somewhere? Should I take you with me? Would you like living on coconuts and never having pretty clothes to wear?”

  “Is Trevelyan very poor?”

  “I don’t know,” Claire said with some bitterness. “He has never told me anything about himself. I know practically nothing about him.”

  “But you know all there is to know about Harry, don’t you?”

  Claire sighed. “I’m afraid that I do. I don’t think Harry is a very complicated man.”

  “I don’t understand anything,” Brat said. “I used to think that I understood everything, but I don’t anymore.”

  “I think it’s called growing up. Now, why don’t you close your eyes and sleep a little?”

  Sarah Ann, snuggled close to her sister, did close her eyes, but she didn’t sleep, nor did Claire.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Wear the emeralds,” Brat said as she rummaged through Claire’s jewel box.

  Claire gave her sister a weak smile. Claire was trying her best to conduct herself normally and to put on a face of happiness for her sister, but she wasn’t very good at acting. “The emeralds would be lovely.” Claire had allowed Sarah Ann to choose her clothes for dinner and Brat had chosen Claire’s most lavish lace ballgown. Claire knew she was going to look a bit ridiculous at dinner, but she didn’t care. For the two days since she’d seen Trevelyan, she didn’t seem to care about anything. She walked about the estate with Harry, spent all her time with him, and tried to tell herself that she had made the right decision to marry Harry. But every time a branch twitched or someone walked into a room, Claire jumped.

  Trevelyan’s probably writing and doesn’t realize I’m not there, she thought with a great deal of bitterness. So much for his “love” of me.

  She looked in the mirror of her dressing table and smiled at her sister. Poor Brat, she thought. For the last few days Claire’s depression had upset her greatly. Claire had never before realized how important she was to her little sister. But then, with a father who was usually away killing animals or sailing on his yacht and a mother who did little but plan one party after another, Claire was all the family Brat had.

  “Nyssa was singing this morning,” Brat said.

  Claire’s hands stopped on the heavy emerald necklace at her throat. “When did you see Nyssa?” she whispered.

  “All the time. I don’t think she sleeps. She says she doesn’t want to miss anything and sleeping is like a little death.”

  Claire arranged the necklace. There was a chain of emeralds set in gold, each emerald about the size of a thumbnail. Hanging from the chain was a fat tear-drop-shaped emerald about an inch and a half long. The large emerald was called the Moment of Truth and was famous for bringing good luck to people. The necklace was the first thing her mother had bought when she had received her money from her father-in-law. Claire was sure the necklace would have to be sold soon after her marriage and the money used for a new lead roof for Bramley. Emeralds into lead.

  “Was Nyssa alone?” Claire asked, trying to act as though she didn’t care.

  Brat was quiet for a moment. “Trevelyan is always with her.”

  “He isn’t writing?”

  “No. I haven’t seen him write a word since…since the night Nyssa danced. Since the night Harry came back.”

  Claire nodded and tried to look busy as she straightened her jewelry box. Trevelyan had not taken long to go from loving Claire to being in love with his beautiful little Pearl of the Moon.

  Claire stood up and turned to her sister. “How do I look?”

  Brat smiled. “Beautiful. I think you’re much prettier than Nyssa.”

  Claire laughed at that and held out her arms to her sister. “What a lovely liar you are. Now go and find Cammy or someone. I must see Harry.”

  “I bet Vellie would like to see you in that dress. And your hair looks so nice. Has he seen your emeralds? Maybe he’d like to draw them and put them in his books