Once Upon A Diamond (A sweet Regency Historical Romance) Page 26
Standing beside Tristan, her father flashed her a wink and returned to his conversation. Deceit clawed at her heart. She hadn’t been fair to Tristan or her father. But she had wanted to give her father time to adjust.
One week was not too long to be away from Tristan, she assured herself, shifting her gaze back to her husband. She started at the dark look of desire in his eyes. Why the man was caressing her with that emerald gaze as if she were going home with him tonight! She felt a warm blush creep up her neck. It was indecent! It was wonderful!
The duchess stood up and clasped her hands together in excitement. “Of course, my dear, your father never said yes. But it was almost a done deal. The gentleman will be calling soon enough to tie up any loose ends. However, your father would like to have a word with you before he arrives.”
The duchess made her way toward the duke.
Trying to suppress her grin at her mother’s announcement, Charlotte leaned toward Kate. “How are you and Tristan doing these days? He seems, well, not able to keep his eyes off of you. Yet that green gaze seems to be hiding something too.”
Kate looked about to make certain no one could hear her conversation. “He is hiding something, Charlotte, and if I do not tell someone I feel I might burst.”
Charlotte moved closer, her eyes widening. “What is it?”
“When I was staying at his townhouse, the earl and I were married by special license.”
Charlotte cupped her hands over her mouth and sucked in a breath of air so loud that the rest of the group stopped their conversation and twisted their heads her way.
“Matthew and Devin know,” Kate whispered, “but Papa doesn’t. I haven’t the heart to tell him."
Before Charlotte had a chance to ask Kate any more questions, the duke strode over, resting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. "I hear your mother has told you about our visitor, my dear."
“Yes, Papa.” Charlotte smiled at Kate.
“Very good then. After breakfast tomorrow, I should like to speak to you about Mr. Henry Manning and his offer.”
Kate almost fell off her seat.
The following evening Kate entered the Bartswood Ballroom with her father on her arm. A host of murals depicting Italian landscapes and people dressed from the sixteenth century blanketed the twenty-foot walls surrounding the dance floor. Potted palms added to a feeling of warmth. Kate tipped her head toward her father, noting the aroma of vanilla in the air. Charlotte had mentioned that Lady Bartswood often scented her palms in such a manner.
“Is it not beautiful, Papa?"
“Beautiful," Robert said dryly as though he wished he were somewhere else.
With her father in tow, Kate skirted the perimeter of the floor looking for Tristan. Regret settled in her heart for not attending the ball with her husband. Except for that one evening, Tristan had not come to visit her once since she had left his townhouse.
He had dined with her at Ridgewater as a favor to the duchess, but not one word of love or devotion had passed his lips. Though his eyes had almost devoured her, he had not even tried to take her aside and steal a kiss or talk to her about their marriage.
Was he having second thoughts? Would he never love her? Should she go home to Wilcox Manor after all?
“Good evening, Miss Wilcox.”
Kate looked up at the sound of Lady Lancewood’s cool greeting. Tristan’s mother was dressed in a pink silk gown, her dark hair framing a rather cool, but still pretty face for a woman of forty-six.
Stunned, Kate greeted the lady and introduced her father. It was amazing that the countess spoke to her now when she had barely said two words to her at the Lancewood townhouse.
Charlotte and Devin were locked in conversation behind Kate and turned to greet Tristan’s mother, too. Robert lifted the countess’s hand and thanked her for hosting Matthew and Kate during a most difficult time and asked for the pleasure of the next dance.
Lady Lancewood nodded and let out a brittle smile, allowing Robert to lead her to the dance floor. The woman was her mother-in-law, Kate thought with a sigh. There was no better time than the present to introduce the families to each other.
“I don’t see your husband or Edward,” Charlotte whispered anxiously to Kate. “Maybe they’re not coming. Edward hasn’t seen me in days. I sent him a letter about Mr. Manning’s offer. Maybe Edward doesn’t want me anymore.”
Kate sensed the pain in Charlotte’s voice and squeezed her hand. “I don’t believe your father will make you accept Mr. Manning. And I’m sure Edward still wants you.”
Charlotte heaved a worried sigh. “I heard Devin mention something to Father about that diamond this morning. I didn’t get to talk to him. Something is in the wind.”
Kate’s heart twisted. The diamond. Was her life to revolve around a stupid stone?
She was about to mention her feelings to Charlotte when to her disgust, Lady Helen appeared at their side. The woman was dressed in a low cut, shimmering, blue gown, fluttering her oriental fan about like a shield. “Miss Wilcox, so good to see you again. Ah, and Lady Charlotte, you do look enchanting tonight.”
Charlotte and Kate greeted the woman with forced smiles.
“Lady Helen,” Kate went on, barely able to stand in the lady’s presence without slapping that annoying fan closed, “It’s seems we are forever bumping into each other.”
“It seems to be the case, I’m afraid.” The fan began to move faster as the woman lifted her nose higher. “And it also appears that we have something in common, Miss Wilcox, even though we seem to be at odds with each other."
“We do?” Kate questioned coolly.
Charlotte nudged Kate in the back and excused herself as she turned and carried on a conversation with Devin who was two steps behind them. The two cousins were obviously listening to every word that was said.
Lady Helen snapped her fan closed, pointing it at Kate's shoulder, her voice an angry whisper. “You sneaky Americans. You are all alike. If you think for one minute that you’re going to leech off the English you are sorely mistaken. You will not marry the earl if I have anything to say about it.”
Then to Kate’s annoyance the impertinent woman flipped open her fan open, as if nothing had happened and began batting her eyes, smiling at the people passing by. Kate fought the urge to drive the object up the woman’s haughty nose.
Suddenly the fan snapped closed again and the woman glared at Kate. “If you believe you’ll trap Lancewood into marriage, you’ll be heartily sorry. It’s all over the ton that you stayed at his townhouse last week. Your reputation is ruined. That mother of his is no one’s chaperone. Might as well pack up your bags and head back to your uncivilized society. Anyone can marry you there."
Kate narrowed her eyes in rage. Of all the spiteful nerve! “You, Lady Helen, are what they call back in America a–”
“Good evening ladies."
Tristan’s greeting stopped Kate from finishing. He met Kate’s hardened gaze with a crooked lift of his mouth. The endearment softened her heart. But it seemed she hadn’t moved quickly enough. Lady Helen had already clamped her claws into her husband’s arm and smiled back at Kate with a triumphant sneer.
“My lord,” Lady Helen said in a seductive tone, “Where have you been, darling? I thought you promised me a dance tonight.”
Kate felt her heart crumble. He never loved her.
Tristan eyed the two women and lifted a dark brow. “Been rather busy lately. But really, my dear girl, I do not remember promising a dance to anyone but Miss Wilcox.”
He rolled Lady Helen’s paws off his arm and reached for Kate’s hand. “Miss Wilcox. I do believe this is your dance." With a dismissing nod to Lady Helen, Tristan pulled Kate onto the dance floor for a waltz.
“I believe that woman is daft," Kate finally said.
Tristan frowned. “Why? Did she do something to you?”
Lady Helen was still on Tristan’s list of possible suspects. He thought her simply a silly woman wanting to grab a
rich husband. But he had readily observed the woman’s treatment of Kate, making him all too wary of her as a possible murderer.
He eyed the lady in question who was fanning herself, as if she were having convulsions of the hand. She hadn’t known anything about Kate until after the inn incident. Or had she? Nothing made sense anymore. If the lady was conspiring against him, her last encounter with Kate would only add fuel to the fire.
Kate interrupted his solemn stare. “She didn’t say much, just batted that flimsy fan around, beneath her shifty gaze. And speaking of shifty, where were you the past few days?"
He stared at her, wondering what he was to say about his visit to the docks while he was investigating Fletcher’s death and the missing diamond. Telling her about the attempts on his life would only make her try to protect him, like she had at the inn.
He had tried to keep his distance from her until things had settled down. He had already included Edward in the hazardous investigation, something he had vowed he never would do.
He certainly didn’t want his wife involved. Knowing Kate, she would carry a pistol in some concealed pocket of her cloak and would probably end up shooting herself or some innocent person.
No, she was safer not knowing anything at all. But her connection to him since she had come to England still put her at risk, and it scared the hell out of him.
“Kate, I want you to stay close to me, your father, or Devin tonight. Promise me.”
Her brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”
“Just promise me."
“What if someone asks me to dance?”
“Dash it all. Tell them you hurt your ankle.”
Her nose tilted in the air. “Why did I even come to this ball in the first place?”
Tristan wondered why he even tried. Stubbornness ran in this family like milk from a cow. He tightened his hold on her. “Promise me.”
“No. I won’t promise you. I shall dance if I choose. Believe me, I am not as addlebrained as you think I am.”
“You will do as I say,” he commanded. “You are my wife.”
“So I am,” she said with a scowl as he drew her off the dance floor where Devin was standing. “But I won’t cater to your demands now, or ever.”
It was obvious to Kate that Tristan didn’t want her to dance with anyone else because he was trying to protect her. But why? Her mind raced over the bizarre happenings since she had come to England. There was that incident at the inn. The search for the missing diamond. Matthew’s shooting. And now Tristan’s strange behavior.
She had a thought that someone was trying to kill Tristan, but dismissed the dead man at the inn as someone who wanted the earl’s purse or possibly the missing diamond. But Matthew’s shooting lingered in the back of her brain. Was Tristan afraid someone would kill her? It seemed preposterous. Nevertheless, why could Tristan not confide in her? There were too many questions. Did he not trust her?
Kate ignored Tristan’s glare and turned to Devin. “Where’s Charlotte?”
“Over there,” Devin replied with a scowl, pointing out his sister dancing with Manning. “The cad’s a pushy one.”
Tristan’s eyes narrowed on the couple. “Sly, too. If I don’t miss my guess, the gentleman has his eye on that dowry of hers."
Devin growled. “And I don’t know that? Why can’t my father see through that obvious façade? The devil! Where is that brother of yours? He should have showed up days ago.”
When Lady Bartswood came to speak to Kate, Tristan took that moment to whisper to Devin. “Edward was with me at the docks. We were investigating Fletcher’s murder. Another man was found near the same place. Dead. Had a sack of silver on him.”
After their hostess left Kate’s side, Tristan straightened his cravat and looked about the room, realizing Kate was leaning forward, trying to listen in on their conversation.
He decided to change the subject. “My brother found out about Manning’s proposal at breakfast this morning when he read Lady Charlotte’s letter. He hadn’t finished his kippers before everything went flying through the air along with his plate. And there is the crazed man now.”
Clad in dark evening attire, Edward appeared in the doorway.
Kate gasped at the loaded expression spreading across his face. Why, gentle Edward looked like he was going to kill somebody!
Kate took a step forward when she saw Edward starting across the dance floor. But Tristan wrapped a strong hand around her waist and yanked her back.
“You’re staying right here, sweetheart.”
“But he’s going after Mr. Manning!”
Kate gritted her teeth and was forced to watch from the sidelines. She only hoped Charlotte could see Edward coming.
The punch was smooth and damaging. Manning flew to the ground with a thud. A strained hush filled the room. Kate groaned as Edward jerked Charlotte off the dance floor and headed in a direct path toward the duke.
“That will fill the gossip for weeks,” Devin replied, smiling. “It seems this is the month for punches, don’t you think?”
On the far side of the room, leaning against a white stone pillar, the duke waited calmly, sipping his wine. Even though the music began for the next dance, all eyes were attached to Mr. Edward Fullerton towing a bewildered Lady Charlotte across the floor.
The onlookers began to murmur to each other.
“By Jove, thought this party was getting rather dull.”
“Looks like Fullerton has perked things up a bit."
“Unconventional, to say the least.”
“The duke don’t look happy.”
“Your Grace,” Edward said to the duke, not caring who heard. “This may be inappropriate to state my concerns now, but I wish to have your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Edward lifted his chin, his hand still attached to Charlotte’s.
After a pause, the duke smiled. “It’s about time, Mr. Fullerton.”
He shook Edward’s hand and whispered, “Took you long enough. Thought my Charlotte would shrivel up and die if you let one more day pass without asking for her hand. Come by tomorrow and we shall speak about it then. Wouldn’t do to give the ton any more to gossip about, would it?" He winked and proceeded to drink from his glass.
Edward blinked. Charlotte stood beside him, stiff as a board. Finally, having registered what the duke had said, Edward flashed a smile. “Of course, Your Grace. Tomorrow then.” Edward strutted out of the ballroom with Charlotte trailing behind him.
Satisfied with the night’s entertainment, a roar of conversation filled the ballroom.
Kate let out a relieved sigh. “He certainly surprised me."
“Who?” Devin asked. “Edward or my father?”
Kate giggled. “Both.”
Tristan shrugged. “My brother fought for what he wanted. Now, he has it. That’s not surprising, is it?”
There was a hunger in his emerald gaze that sent a warm tingle throughout her body. He wanted her. He was obviously fond of her. But did he love her?
A minute later while Tristan and Devin were in heavy conversation with Lord Bartswood, Kate made her way toward her father, but as fate would have it, she tripped over someone’s foot and stumbled into a gentleman’s arms.
“Miss Wilcox, are you all right?"
Kate blinked. Lord Douberry had pulled her against his chest in a most unseemly hold. She pulled back, but not before she gained a whiff of his obnoxious breath. “I’m quite all right.” Or I will be, as soon as you drop your roaming paws.
He tightened his hold. “A dance, my dear?" Before Kate had a chance to say no, the baron yanked her into the midst of dancers.
Tristan froze the moment he caught sight of his wife in the arms of the drunken baron. Not only could the man be a traitor to the Crown, he could also be a cold-blooded murderer. “The devil!”
Devin grasped his arm. “Calm down, Trist. The baron’s foxed. Katherine has her wits about her. We’re watching. Nothing can happen."
Tristan halted his march with a murmured curse. “It’s a waltz. What happened to all the country dances?” His snarling eyes darted across the dance floor.
And wits about her? That was an understatement if he ever heard one.
Coming up beside him, Robert happened to catch the earl’s reaction. “Seems you have an uncanny attraction to my daughter.”
Tristan kept his eyes on Kate. “I hate to tell you this, but for the safety of your daughter, you must know that the man dancing with her is on my list of suspects who want me dead. I’d keep your eye on that headstrong daughter of yours at all times."
Robert frowned as his eyes followed the earl’s glare.
Tristan could not believe Kate had gone against his wishes. When she moved back with him, depending on how long he could handle the separation, things would definitely change. Her week was almost up. Robert would have to be told about this marriage soon.
He clenched his jaw. Very soon.
When the music stopped, Kate, unaware of the repercussions of her dance, slipped from the baron’s arms and made her way toward her father. Tristan caught her from behind and dug his hands gently, but securely, into her shoulders.
“My dear wife,” he said as he swiftly pulled her into a small alcove off the ballroom beneath one of the potted palms, “I thought I told you not to dance with anyone."
“You thought,” she snapped, her eyes filled with indignation. A group of young bucks passed the alcove and she lowered her voice, “I am not your property. And at a ball, one dances.”
Clenching his teeth, Tristan led her back into the ballroom, past the French doors into the gardens. Silence hung between them like smoke from battle. “Property is debatable, sweetheart. But when I give you an order, you will obey it.”
Kate’s jaw jutted forward. “I take orders only from me. Do you understand that?”
His green eyes had turned a furious black. She took a hesitating step backward. The sounds of strings filled the night air, but it did nothing to soften the face glaring back at her.
“I am your husband,” he said in an icy voice, his grasp on her firm. “Or did you forget that little fact?”