“She’s not my—” He lowered his voice. “She’s not my lady and she was never meant to be. We are…friends,” he said softly. “There is nothing more between us and there never will be. She is determined to marry my brother and become the duchess.”
“You could tell her who you are. Her parents would approve the marriage. From what I hear they wouldn’t care if the duke were a hundred years old and missing limbs.”
Trevelyan gave a one-sided smile. “She would marry me because I’m a duke, but I don’t want to marry anyone. I couldn’t travel if I were married, and I don’t want the responsibility of this house and the others, and I bloody well don’t want a wife who marries me for my title.”
Angus gave a sound like a laugh. “T’were a pretty girl to tell me that she wanted to marry me because I was the laird of Clan MacTarvit, I’d run to the kirk with her.”
“That’s just one more difference between you and me. I don’t want to marry, I don’t want to be the duke, and I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I have work to do.”
“She means to marry your sister to James Kincaid.”
“What?” Trevelyan was stunned. “How does she know of that? That was years ago.”
“Your young brother told her.”
“And it suits her sense of romance to bring them together. She wants to make them as happy as she is with Harry.”
Angus told him what Claire had said about her children being the cornerstone of the duchess’s life. “The girl learned that from her grandfather. I think she means to take the old woman’s power away from her.”
Trevelyan shook his head. “Stupid American child! She has no idea what she’s talking about. She has no idea what the old woman is like. Claire is a child, with the innocence of a child. She has dreams of living an idyllic life with Harry and raising blond children with titles after their names. She doesn’t even know that people like the old woman exist.” His cynicism turned to bitterness. “That woman would kill anyone who tried to take away either her son Harry or her power.”
“But I think the lass means to try,” Angus said softly.
“Oh, well, she’ll fail. She hasn’t the years of experience at treachery that the old woman has.”
“What will the old woman do when she learns that the girl has tried to defy her and failed?”
“Lock her away somewhere. How do I know? It’s none of my concern.”
Angus didn’t say a word, but continued to sit on the window seat and stare at Trevelyan.
When Trevelyan spoke again he could barely be heard. “The old woman will find out what is happening because Claire doesn’t know how to be secretive. All she thinks and feels shows in her eyes. And she will confide in Harry.” He snorted. “Her perfect Harry. She might as well tell the old woman directly. Harry will never see it as the threat that it is. If Claire tries to get him to help her marry Lee and Kincaid, Harry will only see it as work he has to do and he’ll complain about it to his mother.”
“But the old woman will know what it is.”
“Yes,” Trevelyan said. “The old woman will know that Claire has tried to take some of her power away. And she’ll retaliate.”
“As she did to a small boy who was a bother to her,” Angus said softly.
Trevelyan gave no indication that he heard. “She will wait until Harry and Claire are married. God, she might set the date for very soon. She would never let Claire get away after such an attempt.”
“And what will she do to the girl?”
“I cannot imagine,” Trevelyan said softly. “Torture her in ways that even the worst tribes I have seen would not think of. She will break Claire’s spirit as she has broken Lee’s. Did you know that Lee was once a bit of a devil herself? She was the leader in some of the pranks that we—”
He broke off because Angus had stood and was now walking toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Trevelyan snapped.
“You said you had work to do, and I must go back to the girl. She gets cold easily and I must see to her.”
“You left Claire alone in that horrid old place of yours? She could be murdered. She could—”
Angus was smiling at him. “This is Scotland and it’s the safest place on earth. It’s not the wilds of Africa or that city you looked for and couldn’t find.”
“I did find it.”
“Nay, lad, you died.” For a moment the two men locked eyes, then Angus looked away. “Now I must go back to her. You stay here and write your books. And when you’re well you can go back to your strangers in those faraway lands. Leave this place to the likes of Harry and his wife and his mother. It’s no concern of yours. You’re not the duke. You’re not the laird. You’re not marryin’ the girl. Stay up here with that man of yours and eat and sleep and write and stay out of it. It’s no concern of yours.”