The Duchess (Montgomery/Taggert 16)

“Actually, no,” Trevelyan said quite honestly. “Nyssa’s too demanding for me. Tires me out.”

At that Claire could only gasp in horror. “I guess I’m an old maid compared to her. A gelding compared to a stallion.”

“That didn’t come out as I meant it to. I meant that—”

Quite suddenly it was all too much for Claire. She put her hands over her face and burst into tears. “I don’t blame you. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, and I have no right to tell you what to do. You have every right to do what you want.”

The hands that reached out to her weren’t Trevelyan’s. They were small hands of great comfort and they pulled Claire to a small shoulder. “I would give anything to have a bosom like yours,” Nyssa said in English that had a lovely, soft accent. “And I think my skin is too dark. How do you keep yours so white?”

“I stay out of the sun,” Claire said, sniffing, then pulled away and looked at Nyssa. She looked at Trevelyan. “You’ve been laughing at me again.”

Trevelyan looked a bit like a man trapped. He opened his mouth to speak but Nyssa interrupted him.

“I asked him not to tell. He taught me English on the trip back from Pesha.” Nyssa took Claire’s hands in her own. “Frank says that I have you to thank for saving me. I don’t like Jack Powell. He wanted to make a prisoner of me. He wanted to take me around the world and show me to people. There was no one to help me, as I thought Frank was dead.” Nyssa smiled at Claire. “Will you forgive my little joke? I so liked to see you fight for Frank. I have never seen anyone or anything that could take his mind from his writing.”

Claire looked at Trevelyan in question. “I have taken your mind from your work?”

Trevelyan shrugged. “Now and then. When I have to play the vicar and rescue people, or sit and watch you learn to dance, or take you to the houses of old men and watch you flirt with them. I also have to entertain your little sister and—”

Claire smiled at him and he looked away. “Why don’t you two children run off and play together?” Trevelyan muttered.

Both Claire and Nyssa laughed at that.

“What shall we make him do?” Nyssa asked. “Shall we make him tell us stories or take us outside into the sunshine?”

“We’re in Scotland,” Trevelyan growled. “There is no sunshine. And in case you’ve forgotten, my presence here is supposed to be a secret.”

Claire looked from one to the other of them and realized how well the two of them knew each other. It made her more jealous than thinking that Trevelyan had slept with the woman. “I have to go back to the house,” Claire said. “They will miss me.” She turned away and started down the stairs.

Trevelyan followed her but didn’t say a word until they reached the floor below, the floor where Claire had fallen through the rotten boards. Trevelyan caught her arm and turned her toward him. “There’s no reason to be jealous of Nyssa. She’s nothing to me.”

“But she’s so beautiful and you’ve spent the night with her.” She couldn’t look at him because she didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes.

“Yes, I have.” He paused and when he spoke again, there was anger in his voice. “Damn you! I may have made love to her but I’ve never said that I love her.”

She didn’t know what he meant and it took her a moment to realize that he was referring to the way that she said she loved Harry. Did she love Harry? How could she love Harry and want to be with Trevelyan? How could she love one man and spend the night with another? But Trevelyan had said that he’d spent the night with a hundred women, a thousand, yet he seemed to distinguish sex from love.

Trevelyan saw the confusion on her face and pulled her into his arms, where she hid her face against his chest. “Shall we do what Nyssa suggested and spend the day outside?”

“The three of us?”

“Yes, the three of us,” he said. “No, the four of us. We’ll invite your little sister.”

Claire sniffed. “My beautiful little sister. I’ll be the ugly one.”

Trevelyan chuckled, then put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his. “You will be far and away the prettiest one to me. Do you know that I’m beginning to think that you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen?”

“Really?” She looked up at him, tears sparkling in her eyes.

“Yes, truly.” He kissed her softly, then his kiss became more passionate, more demanding. He put his hand on her thigh and began to pull her skirts up. “Why do you wear so damn many clothes?”

“Trevelyan, we can’t do anything here. There are people and—”

He cut her off with his lips. “Damn the others.”

“But there’s no bed,” she murmured.

Trevelyan gave a little laugh that was so full of innuendo that Claire could feel her scalp tightening. She didn’t think much after that as he pulled her skirt up, lifted her leg so that it was about his hip, then took two steps, stopping when her back was against the wall. Her big underpants that reached to her knees were not sewn in the center seam. He parted them easily.