The Duchess (Montgomery/Taggert 16)

Trevelyan turned back to Claire. “They will put the jewel on the cup. They have agreed that this Pearl of the Moon was special.” For a moment he was silent, looking at her, then he held out his hand to her.

But Claire couldn’t take it. She could not forget and certainly could never forgive that he had just allowed a woman to die. She turned her back on him and started down the hill.

“I think she’ll sleep now,” Claire said to Harry as she looked down at Brat. Sarah Ann had been so upset at hearing of Nyssa’s death that a doctor had been called and laudanum given to the child to make her stop screaming.

“You look as though you could use some sleep too,” Harry said, glancing down at Sarah Ann. He had stayed with her and Claire every moment until the doctor had come. At one point he’d hugged Sarah Ann to him, rocking her, soothing her while she cried.

Claire tried to smile, but she couldn’t. The last few days, and especially the last few hours, had been more than she could take.

Harry took her arm, led her to a chair, then handed her a glass of MacTarvit whisky.

“He’s gone, you know,” Harry said softly.

Claire looked at him. “Who?” she asked but knew very well whom he was talking about.

“Trevelyan left a few hours ago. Right after you returned. He and that man of his.”

Claire nodded. No doubt he had remained at Bramley because of Nyssa. He had been waiting for her to die so he would be free to go to his next conquest, his next adventure, to find his next subject for his books. “Good,” Claire said. “I’m glad he’s gone.”

“I think you judge Trevelyan too hard.”

Claire looked at Harry with anger. “He killed her. He stood there and watched her die. You should have seen him. He made no effort to stop her. He couldn’t have cared less about her death. I’m sure he was planning how to write about it in one of his damned books.”

“I’m not so sure Vellie—”

“Don’t call him that! He’s Captain Baker, the man who has seen everything, done everything, and has felt none of it. It’s what I thought before I met him and it’s what I’m sure of now. I never want to hear of him again.”

Harry frowned and looked down at his whisky glass. “All right,” he said softly.

Chapter Twenty-four

When Claire heard the knock on her door, she thought it was the footmen come to take her trunks downstairs. It had been four days since Nyssa’s death and she had decided it was time to leave Harry’s house. Harry had tried to talk to her of wedding dates, but Claire had been too despondent to speak of a wedding. Much to their parents’ chagrin, both Claire and Sarah Ann were dressed in full mourning. But then, in the last few days her parents had complained a great deal about many things. Neither her mother nor her father wanted to leave Bramley.

“I don’t see why you can’t be married from here,” Arva said. “I like this place and I want to stay here.”

Claire had said that they had to leave, that she could no longer remain in the house. Arva had complained that her two daughters looked like nuns in their black and it was a wonder the duke still wanted to marry Claire.

“There are hundreds of leaky roofs in Great Britain,” Claire had said. “Everyone wants to marry me.” Arva had wanted that remark explained but Claire hadn’t bothered.

But now, when Claire turned toward the door, it wasn’t a footman but Leatrice standing there. Claire couldn’t help smiling, for Leatrice looked wonderful. Instead of the drawn, frightened expression she used to wear, her cheeks now blossomed with color and she wore a very pretty, very plain blue dress, not an adolescent ruffle in sight.

Leatrice smiled and went forward to kiss Claire’s cheek.

“You look very good,” Claire said. “Marriage agrees with you.”

“It does. I had no idea how much it would agree with me. James and I have so much in common, and after living here I find him very easy to please.”

Claire smiled. “I’m so very glad for you.” She could think of nothing else to say so she turned back to her packing. “I’m glad I was able to see you before I leave.”

Leatrice walked to Claire and put her hand on her arm. “I came back to see you. Harry wrote to me.”

“How kind of him.”

Leatrice put her hands on Claire’s shoulders and turned her around. “Harry is very worried about you. He says that a great wrong is being done.”

“I can’t imagine what that could be.”

Leatrice gave Claire a hard look and her eyes reminded her of Trevelyan’s. Claire looked away.