Once Upon A Diamond (A sweet Regency Historical Romance) Page 14

  “Charlotte, I cannot accept all this.”

  “But you must. Mother won’t take no for an answer. Besides, she’s the cream of High Society. She will not have her niece dressed in anything but the finest.” Charlotte raised a delicate brown brow. “You are going to have to accept it. Like it or not."

  A huge grin spread across Kate’s face. “Ah, well, the hardships of life.” She laughed with her cousin while they rummaged through the gowns.

  Charlotte picked up a set of white gloves and worried her bottom lip. “But I believe you have a problem.”

  “What?” Kate asked, smiling. “The colors do not suit me?”

  “Not the clothes.” Charlotte frowned. “It’s my brother. Are you not the least bit interested in him? I’ve never seen him act so strange. The ton’s self-seeking mamas and their daughters chase him about Town, even the young widows are interested in him. He leads many of them on, but I know he desires a very special woman to fill his heart."

  Kate knew where this was leading, for she liked Devin, she really did. “Oh, Charlotte. I do like your brother, but–”

  “But what?"

  Kate tilted her head toward the wall, avoiding Charlotte’s penetrating gaze. Thoughts about Tristan nagged at her brain. She had already decided the best thing for her to do was to return home as soon as possible. “We’ve had this conversation before. I’m quite fond of him, but I’m not attracted to him. When I marry, I want to marry for love. When I get back home–”

  “Tell me you’re not leaving England so soon.”

  “I can only promise to stay until the end of the Season.” Then I need to go home. I need to have things back the way they were.

  “Oh, Kate. If you won’t marry my brother, what about another Englishman. That said, I would not mind if you married Lord Lancewood himself. He would make a very good husband if it weren’t for that silly diamond he is always searching for.”

  Kate looked away.

  “But don’t you see,” Charlotte went on, “I could have you here forever. Y-you have become so dear to me.”

  A sob escaped from her cousin, and Kate grasped Charlotte in a tight embrace. “Oh, Charlotte, please don’t cry. I can’t bear it.”

  “I won’t cry.” Charlotte hiccupped and pulled back, wiping her face. “But are you interested in Tristan at all?”

  As Charlotte peeked at her from beneath hooded eyes, Kate felt the heat singe her cheeks.

  “Me and the earl? Preposterous.”

  Charlotte slapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my. You are interested in him! I should have known. Jupiter! Devin’s going to have a fit. He gets insanely jealous, you know.” She laughed, flinging a white glove at Kate. “Insanely.”

  Kate caught the glove and smiled. “You will not tell him, Charlotte!”

  “There once was this opera singer, no, no, it was an actress I believe, and Devin–”

  “Charlotte, is that clear?”

  “Moi?” Charlotte pointed to herself. “I won’t tell Devin a thing. Forget my brother for now. Let’s look forward to tomorrow. We can take a ride in Hyde Park and stop for some ices on the way back home. And don’t worry about me, I can keep a secret.”

  Secrets were becoming a regular happening in Kate’s life. But for now, she just wanted to go home.

  The scent of freshly brewed tea filled the air as Tristan sat in a comfortable fireside wing chair in the library of his London townhouse located in the plush neighborhood of Mayfair. He placed his teacup on the nearby table and began stretching his legs across the Oriental rug when Perkins appeared in the doorway.

  “Andrews is here, my lord."

  “Let him in.” Tristan wondered if his man from Bow Street had discovered any new information about the diamond, Harold Fletcher, or the incident at the inn. There were rumors in Whitehall that the dead man at the inn was a hired killer.

  “Afternoon, your lordship," the burly man replied in a gruff voice as he ambled into the room.

  “Andrews.” Tristan offered the man a seat.

  The Bow Street Runner sank against the pillows on the chair. “I’ll come right to the thing of it, m’lord. No leads on the diamond.”

  Tristan was disappointed, but swallowed a chuckle when he noted the Runner’s gaze attached to the maid’s backside as she served the man’s tea.

  Andrews cleared his throat as the maid departed. “After some prying, my lord, I’ve discovered the name of the ruffian who attacked you and the girl. The man was Shamus McDooley, a scoundrel among those parts of London. He’s known to have been hired by some of High Society’s finest. Sources tell me he was paid well for the jobs. Also has a partner.”

  Tristan dragged his forefinger down his cheek. “And you believe this man was hired to rob me?” Or kill me?

  “A good possibility, my lord. You were there to retrieve the diamond. That would be a prize for any man. It seems many knew about Fletcher’s interference in the matter.” The Runner sipped his tea. “But then again, you did not have the diamond in your possession.”

  Tristan pursed his lips and shifted his ankle over his knee. The only thing in his possession at the time was a little spitfire.

  “Of course, Harold Fletcher did make his presence known after returning from India,” Andrews went on. “Many a men could have discovered the place of his rendezvous with you, especially if he took to drinking. Secret meeting with him or not.” The man paused. “However, there is another possibility, my lord, other than thieving.”

  Tristan looked up. “What?”

  “Murder. Cold blooded murder. As you had mentioned before, some coward may have hired the man at the inn to murder you.”

  Andrews drank some more of his tea and peered over his cup. “Do you have any enemies, my lord? That is, besides anyone greedy enough to take the diamond for himself?”

  Tristan rose to his feet and paced the room. A spy in the trenches? Or could this be personal? “A man has many enemies, Andrews, some are not even human.” He stared over the Bow Street Runner, gazing at a miniature painting of the diamond hanging on the wall. “Many enemies, indeed.”

  “Beg your pardon, m’lord, but I’m not following you.” Andrews set his cup down, cleared his throat, and rose. “May I be so blunt as to point out, my lord, that it is not unusual in cases like these that the next in line for the title," he wiped his forehead, “if you were to die, you see, then your brother, Edward, would be earl.”

  Tristan’s brows narrowed. “My brother? Why that’s absurd.” A hint of unleashed anger trailed in Tristan’s voice, making Andrews take a step back.

  “Only meant, my lord, that we must look at all possibilities.”

  “Well, that possibility is out. Is that clear, Andrews?”

  “Quite clear, my lord.” Andrews sank back into his seat. “Is there any person that owes you a debt, someone curious about the diamond, or anyone that you may have insulted lately?”

  “Insulted lately?” Tristan chuckled. There was Kate. He had insulted her in the carriage, and what a ride that had been!

  “There could be many on that list Andrews. Yet, I cannot think of anyone who would want to kill me.” Besides a Napoleon sympathizer. “What about Fletcher?”

  “Manning was correct. Harold Fletcher had been staying at the local inn by the docks that very same day he was to meet you at the Hunting Fox. Some say there was a sailor with him as well. Not much more information than that.” The Runner downed the remaining bit of tea. “By the way, did you know that Lord Douberry was a friend of Fletcher?"

  Tristan paused. “Douberry?” Now that was news worth paying for.

  Andrews wrinkled his brow. “You do know the baron, don’t you?”

  “Indeed. The man may be counted as one of my enemies. Two months ago, I saw past Douberry’s cheating ways and beat him soundly out of eight thousand pounds. Course, the man vowed to get even.”

  Andrews scratched his head. “A possible suspect then.”

  Tristan answered with a grim no
d. “The man’s such an addlepated peagoose, I never thought about him being a worthy adversary. But yes, Andrews, I would say that with this new information, Douberry is a possible suspect.”

  Chapter Ten

  Sitting on his horse at the edge of Hyde Park, Tristan eyed the duke’s phaeton being pulled by a magnificent set of matching bays. It was the fashionable hour, and Lady Charlotte and Miss Katherine Wilcox sat beside the duke as he showed off his newly acquired extra-wide vehicle.

  The black lacquered phaeton had been the talk at the clubs for the past week. Much to Tristan’s delight, the broad seating was still not wide enough to hold Devin, who was forced to ride on his horse alongside the phaeton.

  Tristan quickly gestured his animal to move closer.

  “Fancy seeing you here, Lord Lancewood.”

  The familiar voice made Tristan turn his head in surprise. “Lady Helen.” He tipped his hat to the female sitting atop her horse, vividly recalling the dark-haired beauty as a brassy sort of chit who had wanted to marry into money and title.

  She batted her thick lashes. “Goodness, I haven’t seen you since last Season.”

  For good reason, my lady. But Tristan smiled and said nothing. He nodded to her father mounted on a horse about ten yards away.

  As the lady inched closer, he was assaulted by a wave of heavy rosewater that could fill a boudoir for a week. “Still searching for that diamond? Like your father?”

  Like his mad father, but she dared not say the words for Tristan was a prized catch in her estimation. “Indeed, madam, but I shall enjoy the Season nevertheless.”

  Lady Helen rested a gloved hand upon his arm. “How wonderful. I do hope to see you at many of the balls.” She let out a breathy sigh. “Oh dear. Father is calling to me. I must go. Good day, my lord. I do hope to see much of you this Season.”

  “Good day, Lady Helen.” Hopefully, she would find some other sap by then. He tipped his hat, steering his horse in Kate’s direction.

  As the phaeton rolled along the budding scenery of Hyde Park, Kate caught sight of Tristan and a dark-haired beauty conversing across the way. Jealousy overwhelmed her.

  She tried to forget the way he made her feel when he’d kissed her, but memories of him lingered in her mind as if it were yesterday. His towering stance, his finely chiseled profile, his laughing emerald eyes, his gentle touch when he pressed his lips to hers.

  Of course, the cold dip in the lake didn’t soothe her ego any. But she seemed to react so strongly to anything he did, she was sure she was going mad.

  She frowned when the dark-haired beauty rested an intimate hand upon Tristan’s arm as the oaf smiled back at her. Kate looked away, her heart thumping outside her chest. He was nothing more than a rake! What was wrong with her to think she was attracted to him?

  “Lovely day, Katherine,” Devin said, dragging her away from her thoughts.

  She smiled up at her cousin. “Yes, quite lovely, indeed.”

  And it was. The robins were chirping. The sun was shining. And the people of the illustrious ton were decked out like peacocks, strutting their newest creations about the park, making Kate feel quite at home. Boston society was not much different after all.

  She wasn’t surprised when moments later Tristan greeted the entourage with a quick smile and debonair bow while sitting on his horse. Kate nodded, struggling to compose herself.

  The duke pulled back on the leather reins, acknowledging the earl with a jovial smile. “And pray, are we going to see more of you this Season than last, Lancewood?"

  “Indeed, I intend to enjoy this Season very much, Your Grace." Tristan flashed a wicked grin in Kate’s direction. “You can be sure of my presence many times over."

  “Wonderful, wonderful,” the duke expressed with delight. “Bring that brother of yours around as well. We have two young ladies to escort this Season, you know.”

  Charlotte blushed.

  Inwardly, Kate groaned.

  Tristan smiled at Devin. “I have already set my time aside, Your Grace. You see, I promised your firstborn that I am very willing to help as an escort all Season.”

  “I won’t hold you to that,” Devin said curtly.

  “A promise is a promise," Tristan said before leaning toward the phaeton. “With Your Grace’s permission, I would like to call upon your niece for a small shopping excursion tomorrow. Show her about and what not. And Lady Charlotte shall come as well?”

  “With you? Absolutely, by all means."

  Tristan gave Kate a slow, secret smile, and she stiffened. She had no time to answer. She was not even asked. She raised her chin and searched the park, acting not the least bit interested in the unbelievable conversation that was taking place.

  “Very well then, I shall call upon the ladies at precisely two o’clock.”

  Kate shifted a quick glance in Tristan’s direction. His words carried a hint of laughter. Before she could form a reasonable reply, he tipped his hat and was off in the opposite direction.

  “Father,” Charlotte asked, hiding her smile at Kate’s predicament, “before we return home, could we stop for an ice at Gunter’s?"

  “Certainly my dear. That is, if Katherine wouldn’t mind.”

  Kate feigned a thin smile. “Sounds delightful.”

  They were at Gunter’s fifteen minutes later, eating their ices when the bell above the door jingled. Kate caught sight of a very handsome gentleman striding toward them. His hair was a deep chestnut brown. His eyes as blue as the sky. He had an athletic build, but there was something familiar about his gait. He gave the group a neat bow, but beneath his hooded eyes, Kate caught the flash of desire he directed toward Charlotte. How very interesting.

  “Good afternoon, Your Grace. I saw your phaeton outside and decided to see for myself if the word was true."

  “What word is that?” the duke asked.

  “Why, word has it that you have the two fairest beauties in all the land traveling with you. But I do not believe I’ve met one of them.”

  Devin rose. “Allow me to introduce my cousin, Miss Katherine Wilcox. Miss Wilcox, Mr. Edward Fullerton, our neighbor.”

  Kate offered him her hand. Ah, so this was Charlotte’s Edward. How utterly charming. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Fullerton.”

  “Delighted, Miss Wilcox.” Edward drew her hand up for a kiss, then immediately dropped his gaze to Charlotte. “Ah, Lady Charlotte, you do look ravishing today.” He held her hand and kissed it a bit longer than Kate’s.

  The duke narrowed his brows. “Edward?”

  Edward angled his head toward the duke. “Your Grace?"

  The man pointed across the table. “Have a seat next to my Charlotte.” It was another command. “An ice?"

  “No, thank you.” Edward smiled and quickly pulled up a chair.

  As the group finished their ices, Kate heard a high-pitched giggle and glanced toward the front door. To her shock that dark-haired beauty from the park was cackling like a lovesick schoolgirl, and she had her hands attached to Tristan – again!

  Minutes before Tristan had entered Gunter’s, he’d noticed the duke’s crest on the phaeton outside. He was about to enter alone when Lady Helen planted herself alongside him. Sunk her claws into him was more like it.

  Blast the interfering chit! And blast her father as well!

  The man was ready and willing to leave his daughter alone with him, informing Tristan that he would return for his daughter within the hour. Tristan had no recourse but to allow Lady Helen to accompany him. When he entered the shop, he knew the exact moment Kate caught sight of him. Their eyes had locked in a battle of wills, and then she had looked away.

  Was the lady merely irritated about their excursion the following day, or was it jealousy that had caused that dangerous spark in Kate’s eye? The latter notion warmed Tristan considerably.

  Though the crowd in Gunter’s was large, Tristan lost sight of Kate, but decided to work his way toward the duke’s table and make the best of his situation. When he
finally reached his destination on the far side of the room, he realized the group had already made their way toward door.

  How had he missed them? He turned and heard the bell above the door. Kate was leaving, and devil take it, she was on the arm of his best friend!

  “Confound it,” he murmured.

  Lady Helen tightened her hold about his arm. “Oh, are they out of ices, my lord?”

  “No.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Tristan stared at the annoying lady. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” Nothing that a cold ice in your face wouldn’t help, he thought, but only gritted his teeth and smiled.

  “He said precisely two o’clock, did he not, Charlotte?”

  Garbed in a pink and white dotted muslin gown with a collar of white lace, Kate tugged at her white gloves and glanced at her smiling cousin, waiting for an answer.

  “Yes, he did,” Charlotte replied. “He’s simply a few minutes late. No need to worry."

  Kate plopped herself into a wing chair, glaring at the Egyptian motif that blanketed the walls of the drawing room. She was not going to be this Season’s amusement for the wealthy, very eligible earl. Not Katherine Wilcox.

  “Oh, believe me, Charlotte, I’m not worried. I’m furious. I never had a chance to answer him. He circumvented me by asking you father about the outing today. And he’s not only a few minutes late, he’s thirty minutes late.”

  Charlotte pressed her lips together, avoiding a reply.

  Kate tapped her white satin slipper against the rug. Never mind how the earl contrived the outing today, it was that woman in the shop that infuriated her.

  “Ah ladies, our dear Lancewood is late, I presume?”

  A smiling Devin swept into the drawing room, holding a glass of claret in his hands.

  “It’s more than a presumption, dear cousin. It is a fact.” Kate marched toward the doors, too infuriated to wait a minute longer for Tristan, especially under Devin’s cat-licking–the-cream grin. “Do let me know when the earl arrives, if you please."