“What do you want from me?”
She shook her head. “If you don’t know, I can’t tell you.” She started to walk away but again he caught her.
He moved so that he was in front of her. “Tell me what you expect of me. Would you like for me to beg you to live with me instead of Harry? Is that what you want? Would you like for me to ask you to give up your dream of being a duchess and go live in a hut on the edge of a jungle with me?”
Claire’s head was spinning. There was a part of her that wanted to go with Trevelyan, wanted to spend all of her life with him, but there was another part that told her that the last few days she’d spent with him weren’t real. There was so much she didn’t know about him. He asked questions but he didn’t answer them.
“I don’t know you,” she said and there was agony in her voice.
“You know me as well as anyone ever has.”
She raised furious eyes to his. “Don’t you understand that I’m not talking about what we’ve done in bed together? I’m talking about love.”
“So am I.”
Claire turned away. She didn’t want to cry now.
Trevelyan put his hands on her shoulders and she rubbed her cheek against his hand. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “Tell me what to do.”
He turned her around to face him and stared into her eyes. “You have to make your own decision. I can’t make it for you. No one can live another person’s life.”
It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Why couldn’t he be like other men and tell her that he loved her, that he wanted her? Why couldn’t he say that he’d kill her or Harry or both of them if they so much as looked at each other again?
“Is that what you want?” he said, as though she’d spoken aloud. “Would you like for me to throw you over my horse and take you away from here? Would you like me to kidnap you and take you on my next trip? And if I did that, how long would it be before you began to hate me? Would you start hating me two years from now when you received a letter from your sister saying that your parents had spent every penny of your grandfather’s money and they were now destitute? Or would you begin to hate me before that, when I went away on an expedition and left you behind to imagine what I was doing when you weren’t there?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly.
His fingers bit into her shoulders. “Do you love me?” he asked. “Me? Not Captain Baker, not some man you think you know because you’ve read his books, but me, Trevelyan?”
She hesitated, and in her hesitation, he moved away from her. “Of course I love you. I couldn’t have done the things I did with you if I didn’t love you. I’ve never done those things with anyone else. How could I have gone to bed with you when I was engaged to someone else if I didn’t love you? If my parents had found out, if Harry knew, it would have hurt them very much. I couldn’t have—”
When he looked at her his eyes were black with rage. He bent so his nose was nearly touching hers. “I have been to bed with hundreds of women. I have done things with them that you could never imagine, but I have not loved any of them, not as I have come to love you.”
Claire took a step away from him. The intensity of him frightened her, and she knew that it was time for the truth. “You ask me if I love you. How do I know if I love you? I don’t know you at all. You keep yourself from me. I know more about Captain Baker than I do about Trevelyan. Where were you born? How are you related to Harry? Why do the crofters treat you with such respect? I never know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. You say that you love me. For how long have you known that you love me? Days? Weeks?”
She looked at him, saw that he wasn’t planning to answer her. “You say that I have to make my own decision. Am I to decide that you want me, that you want me to go with you, spend my life with you? How am I to know that you want that? You haven’t told me that you want me. You haven’t told me anything. Nothing! If I weren’t such a snoop I doubt that I’d even know that you’re Captain Baker. I don’t think you would have told me.”
When he spoke neither his look nor his voice had softened. “Do words mean so much to you? If the words are what you want, then I’ll give them to you. I love you. I love you as I have never loved another woman. I think that perhaps I have loved you for nearly as long as I’ve known you. I would like for you to go with me. Now. Tonight. Ride away from here and never look back. I don’t know what will happen in the future. I’m sure that I’ll make the worst husband in the world. I’ll leave you alone for years at a time while I travel. I’m cursed with bad moods. I’m a selfish bastard and I’m sure that I’ll make you cry a great deal. I don’t know what to say to you about other women. I think that monogamy will be difficult if not impossible for me, but I’ll try it.”
Claire knew that if she had any sense she would now throw her arms about him and leave with him. She wanted to do just what he suggested: get on his horse with him and ride away. She would never look back at the MacArran lands. She’d never look back at her present life. How many women had the fortune to have a man like the great, the famous, the world renowned Captain Frank Baker fall in love with them?
But Claire didn’t throw her arms around him. If she left with him it would mean turning her back on her family. She knew that Trevelyan ridiculed her parents, thought they were a worthless pair, but they were her family. Perhaps he could get along with just himself, but could she? Could she walk away, knowing, as he had pointed out, that she would be condemning her sister to a life of poverty?
Trevelyan, watching her, started to walk away.
“Wait!” she called and went to stand in front of him. “I…I don’t know what to do. I want to go with you but—”
“If you wanted to go, you would do so.” His face suddenly softened and he smiled at her. “Your young duke is probably waiting for you. You’d better go to him.”
She took a step backward. “You don’t care that I go to Harry?”
“I don’t try to live other people’s lives for them. If you make up your mind, I will be here for…” He looked toward the house. “I will remain here for another few days. Good night, Miss Willoughby.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Claire cried herself to sleep that night, not falling into a deep sleep until early morning. She probably would have slept the morning away if Harry hadn’t come into her room. What with Miss Rogers confined downstairs with her uninjured leg still in a cast and no one inclined to tell her that her leg wasn’t broken, Claire was left alone. Even Brat, who often came to her room, didn’t. She was probably with Nyssa and Trevelyan and Oman, Claire thought with bitterness. Claire put the pillow over her head and tried to go back to sleep.
At ten, a furious knocking at her door brought her out of her half sleep, but she didn’t bother to answer the door. She didn’t care who was there or who wanted to see her.
When she didn’t get out of bed to answer the door, it was opened. Listlessly, Claire watched Harry enter her room. His arms were full of flowers and a large leather portfolio.
The sight of the handsome young man did nothing to cheer Claire. She lay in the bed, blinking up at him, not smiling, feeling no happiness at seeing the man she was supposed to be in love with.
Harry looked down at her for a moment then put his armload on the foot of the bed and went to open the curtains. Claire blinked at the bright light coming into the room and sat up, not bothering to pull the sheet about her.
Harry took a seat by the bed and looked at her. It wasn’t difficult to see that she’d been crying. She looked much older than her nineteen years.
“I owe you an apology,” he said.
Claire waved her hand in dismissal. She opened her mouth to speak but as her eyes filled with tears again, she closed it.
Harry started to hand her a handkerchief, but the one on the table by the bed was wet so he went to a tall chest of drawers and began frantically opening drawers until he found a clean stack of handkerchiefs. He handed her a wad of them an
d Claire blew her nose loudly.
“I came to apologize,” Harry repeated, then put up his hand when Claire again tried to speak.
Harry put his hands behind his back and began to pace the room. “I don’t think I appreciated you until I had some time away from you. Claire, my love, I’m going to be honest with you. When I first met you, my mother had sent me to London to get you. She’d heard that an American heiress was to be had and, well, there was the roof and all the people in my family who had to be supported and, to be honest, we need the money.”
He stopped pacing and looked at her. “It was rather easy to win you.”
Claire started crying at that. She was indeed easy to win. It seemed that she fell in love with every man she met.
Harry went to sit on the side of the bed and took her hand in his. “I started this because of your money but somewhere along the way I fell in love with you.”
This made Claire cry harder and Harry kissed her palm.
“I was so angry when I left here last week. I realized that you hadn’t enjoyed hunting with me, that you’d only gone with me to…I couldn’t figure out why you’d gone with me. And I guess I’d known that you hated it. You always looked so unhappy and so…wet when we returned.”
Harry smiled at her. “Do you know where I’ve been these last few days?”
Claire shook her head and blew her nose again. Of course Trevelyan had told her where Harry had been but she didn’t know if she believed him.
Harry grinned. “I’ve been saying good-bye to my mistress.”
At that Claire’s head came up and she looked at him.
“Yes,” Harry said. “I was so angry at you that I thought I’d spend some time with a woman who was honest and true, one who didn’t lie to me and say that she liked something when she didn’t. I was furious with you. When I got to Edinburgh, I went to Olivia and told her everything.”
Harry gave a little chuckle. “I thought Livie would hug me and tell me what a dreadful woman you were, but you know what she did?”
Claire shook her head.
“She started laughing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone laugh as hard as Livie did. I thought she was going to burst her dress. At first she made me so angry I nearly left, but then Livie said, ‘She must love you very much.’”
Claire’s eyes widened as she looked at Harry.
“Yes, that’s what she said. Livie said that any woman who would spend days sitting in the rain in a butt with me had to be in love with me.” He gave a sigh. “Livie has never gone hunting with me. Anyway, Livie said that if she had your money and could buy herself any man she wanted she wouldn’t sit in the rain for the Prince of Wales.”
“She sounds nice,” Claire managed to say.
“She is. You’d like her. I mean, that is, if you could meet her, but I guess you can’t.” He paused and looked at her. “Claire, why have you been crying?”
Claire started to answer him, but her tears started again.
Harry got up from his chair and went to stand before the big portrait that was the doorway to the tunnels. “It’s Trevelyan, isn’t it?”
Claire didn’t answer him and Harry looked back at her. For the first time, Claire saw anger on that handsome face. “I don’t need an answer. All the women fall for him. Every woman on the face of the earth. Wherever he goes, all the women love him. They all want to go away with him.”
He looked down at the floor. “Will you go away with him?”
“I…I don’t think so.”
Harry gave her a hard look. “You want to though, don’t you?”
Claire couldn’t answer him. Did she want to go with Trevelyan? Did she want to put herself in the hands of a man who was as cynical as Trevelyan was? Did she want to live with a man who had seen and done as much as he had? Did she want a man who was as self-contained and cold as he was?
Harry saw her hesitation and he went to her, took her hands in both of his, and began kissing them. “Claire, tell me that I have a chance with you. Please tell me that I’m not out of the running yet. I won’t ask you to go hunting with me. I won’t ask you to do anything that you don’t want to do. I know that I’m not exciting like Trevelyan is, but I can offer you some things that he can’t.”
He picked up the portfolio from the bed. “Look at this. While I was in Edinburgh, I paid off all your mother’s debts. She’s ordered a great many clothes. I had to sell a Gainsborough to get the money. The painting had been in my family for years, but it was worth it to do something for you. And here, I had my solicitors draw up papers putting money in trust for your little sister. It’s a way to prevent anyone from spending her money. I also had a new will drawn up. It says that after we’re married and should I die before your sister is married, she’s to have an estate of mine in the Cotswolds. She gets the estate and all the income from it.”
Claire picked up the papers, but her eyes were too blurry to read them.
“And look at this. It’s a paper that puts a limit on your parents’ spending. It’s an allowance for them. They’ll always be taken care of as long as I’m your husband, but they can’t touch your principal.”
He took a breath, then handed her another paper. “And this one limits my spending. After we’re married, you shall have control of your money. You shall have a say in how it’s spent. You can do what you like with the crofters’ houses. I know they mean something to you. You can turn Bramley and my other estates into an American commercial venture if you want.”
He placed the last of the papers on her lap. “Claire, I do love you. I know that I’m not like Trevelyan. I know that I could never offer you the excitement he does, but I can offer you and your family a secure future. I can offer them a home. All of you will be taken care of for all your lives. And Claire, I’ll be good to you. I’ll be as good as I can be.”
Claire sat there in the big bed surrounded by the many papers and looked at them. This is what she wanted. She had wanted love and security for herself and her family and here it was in abundance.
She looked back up at him and he smiled at her, then picked up the flowers and handed them to her. They were yellow roses, her favorite.
He leaned forward and kissed her damp cheek. “Claire, I might not be as electrifying as Trevelyan, or as well read, or as heroic. I haven’t done much in my life and I’ve seen only the ordinary things, but I think I can say that I’ll make you a better husband than he will. I don’t have his temper.” Harry smiled. “I think I can say for certain that I’ll be easier to live with than he would be.”
He kissed her hand again. “Won’t you please give me another chance? I won’t be such a fool this time.”
Claire gave him a weak smile and she knew that, the truth was, she really had no choice in the matter. She couldn’t abandon her family. She couldn’t run off with Trevelyan and give her parents every right to say that they didn’t approve of her marriage to a penniless adventurer. And if they didn’t approve, then Claire’s grandfather’s millions would go to her parents and they’d spend everything in a few years. Trevelyan had said that she’d come to hate him when she received a letter from her sister saying that she and their parents were destitute. What would her parents do when the money was gone? Neither of them knew how to work. Well, maybe her mother did, but it had been too long ago for her to remember.
“Of course I’ll marry you,” she whispered to Harry. “But I have to tell you—”
Harry put a finger to her lips to stop her from speaking. “I don’t want to hear anything about you and Trevelyan. Maybe we should forget that these last few days happened. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I shouldn’t have become so angry. It was all my fault. I take full responsibility.”
His words made Claire cry more. She didn’t deserve anyone as nice as Harry. He had done everything he could to try to please her and all she was doing was bawling at the prospect of marrying him.
“I’ll leave you alone now and you can get dressed. I’ve arranged for us to hav
e lunch in the library. From now on the library is yours. You can come and go as you please.”
He kissed her cheek again. “Please have luncheon with me.”
She put the handkerchief to her eyes and nodded at him.
He rose from the bed and went to the door. “I shall be looking forward to our time together.”
Harry closed the door behind him and went straight to his mother’s room. When he reached the room there was no softness on his face.
“Well?” Eugenia demanded.
“I did everything you wanted.”
“You showed her all of the papers?”
“All of them.”
Eugenia looked up at her youngest child. “Don’t look at me like that, Harry. I’ve done all of this for you.” For the first time in her life, Eugenia saw coldness in her youngest son’s eyes. She was used to seeing that expression on the faces of her other children, but Harry had never looked at her with anything but love.
“And you’ll keep your part of the bargain?” he said, his mouth in a firm line.
“Of course. And now, my darling, stay and have luncheon with me. I have salmon, just as you like it.”
Harry took a while to answer her. “No,” he said at last. “I don’t think I want to eat with you. I’m going to have my meal with Claire.” He turned on his heel and left her alone in the room.
Claire spent the day with Harry. She wasn’t very good company. She kept looking out the window, hoping for a glimpse of Trevelyan. She listened to Harry talk of his trip to Edinburgh, but she had to pretend interest in what he was saying. How very different his conversation was from Trevelyan’s!
She forced herself to stop thinking like that. Harry was the man she was going to marry. Maybe he wasn’t as interesting as Trevelyan, but then there wasn’t but one Captain Baker on earth. It wasn’t fair to compare an ordinary man like Harry to someone as world renowned as Captain Baker.
The Duchess Page 33