Once Upon A Diamond (A sweet Regency Historical Romance) Read online

  Kate stiffened. “No. I’m staying here.”

  A low growl erupted from Tristan’s throat.

  Devin whirled around to face his cousin. “Is this true?”

  Kate nodded. “Yes, but–”

  Devin turned to his friend, not letting Kate finish. “Sorry. Had no idea. I was simply comforting her. She explained about some plan.” He closed his mouth, as if knowing it was time to stop, then stepped aside to watch marital bliss unfold. “Katherine, it’s best you go with him.”

  “I won’t!”

  Tristan moved toward her with long, purposeful strides, his gaze gleaming with intent. “Oh, you most certainly will.”

  She took notice of those snapping green eyes and estimated the distance to the door. “Over my dead body.”

  Tristan shot her a devilish grin. “Oh, I want your body, sweetheart. But not dead.”

  “Oh! You’re insufferable!”

  Devin let out a shrill whistle. “Watch your language, Trist. If you do recall, I’m not a married man.” Turning, he gave Kate a saucy wink. “Believe this is where I depart, Cousin.”

  “Don’t you dare leave me,” Kate cried.

  “Yes, please stay, Devin,” Tristan countered. “You might want to see how this is done in the event you snare a wife someday.”

  Tristan’s steady gaze bore into Kate, making her heart pound. She was not blind to his attraction for her, but it made her more vulnerable. He didn’t love her, her heart screamed.

  “Don’t you touch me.” She scooted behind the sofa, half in anticipation, half in dread.

  He strode toward her, his green eyes flashing. She looked toward the open doors, and without another second to spare, ran for her escape, but she was not quick enough.

  Tristan vaulted over the sofa, crashed against the mahogany table, and yanked Kate against his body. The bang reverberated throughout the room. Tristan shielded Kate’s fall, and she landed on top of him, her feet hanging in the air and her skirt riding up her legs.

  Tristan let out a chuckle. “Not quite what I had in mind, dear wife, but this will do for now.” In one swift move, he wrapped a strong hand around her waist and pulled her to a standing position. “Time to go home, sweetheart. We have a few more things to discuss.”

  She was so furious, she could hardly speak.

  Grinning, Devin propped his shoulders against the opposite wall. “Perhaps I will stay. The view from here is getting better all the time.”

  Heart thumping, Kate attempted to pull away from the powerful hands that held her, but it was no use. Tristan was not about to let her go. “If you think–”

  Without warning, he swept her into his arms and threw her face down over his shoulders. Kate gasped in horror as he carried her about like a sack of flour, dangling, kicking, and screaming to no avail.

  Tristan turned to his smirking friend. “I’m trying to keep our marriage a secret,” he confided as he rearranged Kate’s backside, “for reasons that I shall discuss with you later.”

  Devin gave him a swift salute and smiled. “My word as a gentleman. Unless told otherwise, your secret is safe with me.”

  Craning her neck, Kate tried one last attempt for a rescue, though she knew it was fruitless. “Devin, how could you?”

  Her cousin shrugged. “He is your husband, my girl.”

  “Of all the unmitigated gall,” she stammered, knowing that she was in this fight alone. She pounded on Tristan’s back and wiggled her legs. “Let me down this instance!”

  Tristan stole a glance at Devin while enduring the fist pounding from his wife. “Sorry about the broken table. Tell the duchess I’ll have it replaced as soon as possible.”

  “You pompous windbag! Let me go!” Kate continued her pounding as her husband walked out of the drawing room and into the entryway.

  Mrs. Pennyweather peeked out from the hall and frowned while watching the grim-faced earl carry Miss Wilcox out the door.

  Kate caught sight of the butler, her eyes pleading with him to help. Webster stood at the open door, the red parrot perched on his shoulder and Handsome at his side. “I’m sorry Miss...my lady. I heard Lord Lancewood. If you are indeed married now, you are his lordship’s property.”

  Tristan turned. “It may be hard to keep from the servants, Webster, but if you can…”

  Webster nodded as he opened the door for the earl. “I never saw or heard a thing, my lord. Not a thing.”

  “Why, of all people, Webster,” Kate cried as she was carried out the front door and down the steps. “I thought you would help me. All you men are insufferable! Pompous windbags, the lot of you!”

  As the door closed, Webster smiled and patted the barking dog, whining after its mistress. “She will be quite all right, Handsome. The earl’s a good man. A bit firm, but a good man. Though I believe he’s met his match with your mistress.”

  The dog barked back as if in agreement.

  Webster laughed. “But pompous windbag?”

  “Pompous Windbag! Windbag! Windbag! Simply divine!”

  Kate’s parrot sat in a cage near the door and continued its tirade as Webster smiled at a frowning Mrs. Pennyweather. “A secret, madam.”

  Her lips pinched together in distaste. “It ain’t fitting the way he carried her off like that. Ain’t fitting at all.”

  Webster raised a bushy brow. “Sometimes a woman needs a firm hand, Mrs. Pennyweather.”

  She fisted her hands against her plump hips. “Who are you to be talking? I being a widow for three years. I know what’s what.”

  He looked her up and down, his eyes focusing on her flushed face. He always had a liking for this woman. “Do you now?”

  Her eyes popped open in surprise. “Webster!”

  “What happened here?”

  Devin glanced up as his mother entered the drawing room. He rubbed his jaw with one hand and held a crystal glass filled with claret in the other. “Where?” He looked around. “Here?”

  Charlotte gave him a frowning glare. “Did the earl’s carriage just leave?”

  Devin peered over his glass, his eyes twinkling. “Yes indeedy, the old boy did stop by.”

  “And how is poor Matthew?” the duchess asked, studying her son’s reddened jaw. “And what happened to your face?”

  Devin winced and exercised his chin back and forth. “First of all, Matthew is recovering nicely. And second of all, the earl was not too pleased with me. So he let me have it.”

  “And why is that?” the duchess said, raising a motherly brow.

  Devin rolled his eyes toward his sister. His mother's ignorance toward the ways of the world was incomprehensible. “Well, Mother, it seems I had something of Tristan’s that I had no wish to give up.”

  The duchess gasped. “Have I not told you since you were a small boy not to take things that do not belong to you?”

  Devin grinned. “I shall try to remember that, Mother.”

  “See that you do. And have someone clean up this room. But my, I am so glad Matthew is getting better. I wish to see him as soon as he is taking visitors.” And with a swish of skirts, the duchess departed the room in a huff.

  Charlotte stared suspiciously at her brother. She walked near the piano and noticed Kate’s flute on the floor. “Devin?” She picked up the instrument and gazed at the large dent. “What happened to this, pray tell?”

  Devin stared across the room and lifted an irate brow. “It fell,” he explained calmly. “I believe one would call it a minor complication due to the phenomenal force called gravity.”

  As soon as the carriage stopped in front of the Lancewood townhouse, Tristan stepped down, offering a hand to his wife.

  Kate looked over his shoulders, her mouth clamped tight. She was beside herself that Tristan would take her from her aunt’s house in such a manner. She would not cater to his demands now. He didn’t even love her! She was but a piece of property!

  “Kate, I’m waiting.”

  He could wait forever if it was up to her. She sank
against the seat, folded her arms across her chest, daring him to touch her. That icy green glare would not move her in the least.

  “Very well, my little shrew. Have it your way.” Before she knew what he was doing, he grabbed her arm, slung her over his shoulder, and stomped into the house.

  “How dare you!”

  “How dare you,” he said, his voice hard.

  Kate stiffened when she felt the servants’ stares upon her. Mortified, she squeezed her eyes tight, not uttering a word. She hung limp, not believing her husband’s ungentlemanly behavior.

  Not a minute later Tristan pushed open the door to her bedchambers and tossed her onto the bed with a plop.

  “I have never been so man-handled in my life!”

  His green eyes turned black, and the meaning of his intense gaze was obvious. She felt the color rise in her cheeks.

  “You are my wife now. I’m responsible for your welfare, whether you like it or not.”

  She clutched a pillow to her breast. “Well, I don’t like it.”

  “Too bad. When it’s time for supper, you will come. If not, I’ll carry you down the same way I carried you up.”

  His eyes flashed a gentle but firm warning. “Is that perfectly clear, Countess?” He did not wait for an answer, but turned on his heels, locking the door behind him with a resounding click.

  Kate jumped up and whipped open the connecting door to Tristan’s bedchambers where Matthew was still recovering. She hastened across the room, trying to wiggle the door open. It was locked from the outside. She looked for the key that was usually on the bureau.

  “He locked me in!”

  “Tut, tut, tut, little sister, watch your language. He may have his reasons.”

  Kate spun around. “Why is he doing this to me?”

  “Kate.” Matthew acted faint, trying to deter his sister away from her determined foolishness. “Bit of water, please.”

  “Oh, Matthew.” Frowning, she rushed to his side and poured him some water from the pitcher.

  As the hours ticked by, Kate played a game of piquet with Matthew. She contemplated not joining her husband for supper, but decided it would be better if she heeded his warning.

  Later that evening she dressed in a light yellow gown decorated with white lace. It was a bit more daring in the scoop of the neck, but tonight she was determined to show Tristan she was no meek little lamb. Let him see who was leading whom.

  Since the door was locked, she had no maid to help her with her hair. She did the best she could, tying it up with a tortoise shell comb and a pale yellow ribbon. Sitting opposite her looking glass, she waited anxiously to be summoned to eat.

  What kind of marriage had she entered into? Tristan used to be kind and agreeable only days ago, and now he seemed cold and distant. She didn’t understand at all.

  There was a knock on the door before Tristan entered. The sight of his blue-black hair curling about his right temple in a devil-may-care attitude sent her heart fluttering. He looked so handsome in his jacket and buff breeches, he took her breath away.

  “Supper is being served, wife.”

  His gaze captured hers, then lowered and traveled over every inch of her person until it came back to rest on her lips. A tremor of awareness swept through her. She put a hand to her bosom while her stomach flip-flopped. Perhaps her high-necked blue gown would have been more appropriate.

  She stood as he gave her his arm. Firm muscles clenched beneath his coat. It seemed he was purposely keeping his distance. Why? Was he having second thoughts? He didn’t even try to kiss her anymore. Something had changed. For a scant second, she wondered if it had anything to do with that silly diamond.

  In the dining room Kate found herself at one end of a long table while Tristan sat at the opposite end. The eating utensils were engraved with the earl’s crest, a diamond set inside the outline of a heart. Large candelabras flickered in the corners of the room with smaller ones resting beside the fruited centerpiece. The delicious aroma of onions and chicken filled the air.

  Kate took a quick peek at Tristan. His eyes softened as they met hers. She looked away, her breath catching in her throat. She refused to fall under his spell. She was not Maggie!

  “Do hope you like roasted chicken.”

  “It’s one of my favorites, my lord.” I’d like to roast you, in fact. “The potatoes and peas are very good, too.” I’d like to squash them in your green eyes. They match them, you know.

  “I will make this matter clear.”

  Kate’s head snapped up at the sound of his deep-timbered voice. Had she voice her thoughts out loud?

  “As my wife, you will forego this foolishness and call me Tristan. Is that clear?”

  Pompous windbag. “Very clear, Tristan."

  “Much better.” His smile was as intimate as if he had pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss.

  Kate’s heart gave a little kick when she noted the darkening in his eyes. But there were too many questions left unanswered. Did he love her? Was he even fond of her? Or did he only need her to produce an heir? Was the diamond the only thing he worried about?

  “I don’t want there to be problems between us, Kate. You have to trust me. There are reasons you cannot stay at the duke’s.”

  She lifted a curt brow. “Oh, the insignificant fact of me being your property?”

  He had the gall to laugh.

  Kate stiffened. Well, she would not play the stupid wife. She had a few questions of her own. “Since I am your wife, I want to know who this Andrews fellow is that met with you today.”

  Tristan’s mouth took on an unpleasant twist.

  Kate felt her cheeks heat, but she had no intention in giving in. She glared right back.

  “My lord, a gentleman to see you. A Mr. Wilcox, I believe.”

  Kate turned to the butler and let out a chuckle. “I just left my brother. He most certainly cannot join us in his condition.”

  The butler gave an uneasy frown. “My lord, the gentleman presented himself as Mr. Robert Wilcox from America.”

  Kate’s fork clattered against her plate. “That’s ridiculous. My father’s–”

  A tall figure hovered near the dining room entrance. Kate froze as if she’d seen a ghost. She glanced at Tristan. “I don’t think–”

  But she didn’t finish.

  Bolting from his seat, Tristan caught his wife before she hit the floor. He glanced over his shoulder and stilled. The man hurrying toward him was an older image of Matthew.

  Devil take it. This gentleman was no ghost. He was Kate’s father.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kate felt herself being pulled out of a whirling darkness as Tristan’s voice penetrated the fog. She was lying on the sofa in his drawing room. The green marbled fireplace began to come into view. She must have fainted. Her body must not have healed as much as she thought. And goodness, she thought she had seen her father.

  “Katherine. Can you hear me? It’s me, darlin’. Katherine Josephine.”

  Kate hesitated. “Papa? Is it really you?”

  Her father was standing over her, smiling as if he hadn’t been dead at all! Standing here. With her. He was wearing a neat blue jacket and buckskin breeches. His dark brown hair was a bit grayer about the temples. His face was tanned from the sun. But he looked every bit the muscular fifty-year-old father who had disappeared months ago.

  Robert Wilcox smiled and sank beside her. “You gave me a fright, young lady.”

  “I did?” Kate said, a hysterical hitch in her voice. “But I thought you were dead!” A sob escaped her throat. Her father was alive. He was holding her. Squeezing her. He felt warm and safe, smelling of pines and leather. His scent. Familiar, and oh, so very good.

  “There, there, darlin’. Everything’s all right. I’ll tell you all about it. But the important thing is, I’ve come back to you, and soon we can all return home.”

  Home? Kate lifted her gaze to meet Tristan’s, pleading in silence for him to keep their marriag
e a secret. His face was grim, but he understood and nodded in agreement.

  Robert gently pushed Kate back onto the sofa and rubbed her hand. “Now, little lady, your aunt tells me that Matthew has had a bout with a pistol. When I discovered you two were staying in London, I stopped at my sister’s, thinking you would be with her.”

  He chuckled slightly. “After her infamous swoon upon my arrival, I was given the news that you were staying with Lord Lancewood here while Matthew recovered.”

  He shot a wary glance toward Tristan, then back to his daughter. “I hear Matthew is doing better. I’d like to see him.”

  Kate bit her lip, barely able to control her emotions. Her Papa was alive. “Matthew’s recovering, though he was quite ill with the fever and we thought we might lose him.”

  “But you didn’t let him die, did you, Kate?”

  “No, Papa.”

  Kate watched in confusion as Tristan turned his back on them. The vulnerability in his eyes made her soul ache for the little boy who had never been loved. He thought she was going to leave him. But she wanted to stay. She loved him. She could never love another.

  She was stunned by the sudden realization and wanted to tell her father about her marriage, but the words didn’t come.

  Robert took her hand in his. “I think it’s best if you talk to Matthew first. Prepare my entrance, so to speak. Lancewood should be able to entertain me for a short period.”

  Kate nodded and after a drink of some sherry, she hurried out the door, her knees still shaking from the unexpected presence of her father.

  Tristan stared at Kate’s father and felt a tightening in his chest when there had been talk about his wife returning home to America. He’d been happy for Kate upon her father’s return, but it made his position as a husband much more complicated.

  He wanted her more than he wanted anything, even more than that blasted diamond. His stomach churned at the thought of losing her after only twenty-four hours of marriage.

  Hell and spitfire, she had been his wife in name only. That was one thing he was determined to change.