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.