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“Claire,” a voice hissed from outside the curtains. She wiped her nose instead of sniffling as she truly needed to do. “Claire,” he hissed again. This time, she couldn’t keep from sniffling. The curtains parted and he stepped into the darkness with her. “Damn it, Claire, what are you doing here?”
“Not watching you with your paramour,” she said. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts.
“Former paramour,” he said quietly. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” she said. Then she steeled herself. “You should have told me that you had a child on the way.”
“Why the devil would I do that?” he asked. He had a point. Why would he do that? She was nothing to him.
“That’s what you came here to ask her about?” She wiped her hand beneath her nose. She hated that he got even a hint of her tears. Absolutely loathed it. And herself for getting into this situation.
“Yes, that’s what I needed to ask about.” He reached for her, his hand cupping her neck as he tilted her head back with his thumb. “But tell me why that bothers you.”
“It doesn’t.”
His eyes narrowed; she could see them even in the darkness. “The truth, Claire.”
She couldn’t tell him about her own condition. He was already dealing with one lady who was expecting his child. The man would be bound for Bedlam if he found out about Claire. Goodness, what a mess.
“Did you think you were the only one I’d ever had relations with?” The corners of his lips tipped up ever so slightly.
“Your list of conquests is probably long and varied.” She bit out through gritted teeth, “And I hate that I’m on it.”
“Is that what’s bothered you? That you weren’t my first? Come on, Claire. I can’t undo my past. Don’t ask it of me because it’s not fair.” He groaned and touched his forehead to hers. “You weren’t one of a list of women, Claire,” he tried. But he sounded like an idiot.
“I was one night,” she said. Her voice was not much more than a reluctant grunt.
“Did you want it to be more than that?” He looked into her eyes.
Did she? She was expecting his child. It couldn’t be more, however, because he was not of her world. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
He tipped her face up toward his again. His lips touched hers gently. He wiped a tear from where it pooled at the corner of her eye. “Could you have feelings for me, Claire?” he whispered.
“I could never love you,” she replied. She couldn’t. It was forbidden.
“Let’s go back to the Hall and discuss this there.”
He took her hand and tugged her from behind the curtains. She jerked her hand from his grasp. “How many have there been since me, Finn?” she asked. Goodness, she didn’t want to ask. But she had to.
“How many what?” His eyes narrowed at her suspiciously.
“Women, Finn. How many have there been?” She fidgeted with a loose string on her glove.
He hesitated, and then took a deep breath and said, “None, Claire. How could there be anyone else when all I can think about is you?”
Claire’s heart skittered. She opened her mouth to ask him to confirm what he’d just said, but then Katherine stumbled into the area. “Finn?” she asked. The question didn’t need to be answered. The woman instinctively knew that there was something between Finn and Claire. Katherine smiled softly. “It’s not yours,” she admitted.
Claire’s heart leaped.
“Why d
id you tell everyone it was?”
“Because I needed to see you. I needed your help.”
“You could have sent a letter,” Finn said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.
“He watches my mail.”
