Diamonds and Dreams
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Authors: Rebecca Paisley
Tags: #historical romance, #regency romance, #humorous romance, #lisa kleypas, #eloisa james, #rebecca paisley, #teresa medeiros, #duke romance
by
Rebecca Paisley
Published by Amber House Books
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 1991 by Rebecca Paisley All Rights
Reserved.
This Edition 2014
Cover design by Control Freak Productions
Cover Photo by Period Images
(http://www.periodimages.com)
Published by Amber House Books, LLC
http://www.amberhousebooks.com
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Contents
Praise for Diamonds and Dreams
Amber House Books by Rebecca Paisley
Amber House Books by Rebecca Paisley
Dreams
by Rebecca Paisley
Can an innocent miss with a preposterous plan
win the jaded heart of a duke?
Goldie Mae needs a duke. If she doesn’t
produce one, she’ll lose the charming English estate she calls
home. When a tall, dark stranger with a sardonic drawl and
glittering green eyes drags the golden-haired beauty out of a pond
to “save” her from “drowning”, she believes she’s found the man who
can make all her dreams come true. She offers to give the bemused
fellow “duke lessons”, not realizing she is instructing the very
man born to the role.
Saber Tremayne, the Duke of Ravenhurst, is
known as the “Diamond Duke” because the untimely death of his
fiancé has chilled his heart to ice. Weary of being pursued by
fortune-hunting beauties, Saber can’t resist going along with
Goldie’s hare-brained masquerade. As Goldie begins to melt his icy
heart one kiss at a time, Saber finds himself falling beneath the
tender spell of a woman who will always prefer a crown of
dandelions to a diamond tiara. But is it too late for the
disenchanted duke to learn the most important lesson of all—how to
love again?
Diamonds and Dreams
and
Rebecca Paisley
“Boldly goes where few writers go and she
does it brilliantly!”—Eloisa James,
New York Times
bestselling author
“Charm, imagination and laughter! All you
need is Rebecca Paisley!”—Lisa Kleypas,
New York Times
bestselling author
“Rebecca Paisley is the Queen of unique and
charming love stories!” Jill Barnett,
New York Times
bestselling author
“Rebecca Paisley dazzles the heart!” Teresa
Medeiros,
New York Times
bestselling author
“Rebecca Paisley makes your heart sing with
joy! Her talent shines brighter than any diamond. Historical
romance at its best!”—
Romantic Times
Books by Rebecca Paisley
The Barefoot Bride
Diamonds and Dreams
Coming Soon
Midnight and Magnolias
Rainbows and Rapture
Moonlight and Magic
I wasn’t just wallowing in the mud when you
spotted me. I
was
the mud. I don’t know how you put up with
me this past year or so, how you summoned the patience to explain
techie things over and over again, or how you continued to believe
in me when I couldn’t believe in myself. You’d say, “Aye” and I’d
say “Nay.” I’m so happy your Ayes won. Thank you for wondering
where I was. Thank you for looking for me. My fellow author, my
personal fairy…Deb Stover, thank you for finding Rebecca Paisley
again.
“You’re going to find a plain man and turn
him into a duke?” Big repeated incredulously. “Goldie, you’re an
American
, and you’ve only been here in England for nine
days! What do you know about the English nobility? How can you
possibly make some commoner into this…this Royal Lordship Duke
Tremayne, or whatever the hell it is he’s called! You’ve never even
seen
the fellow!”
Goldie looked at the tiny man and smiled.
Big Mann was her very best friend and a dwarf. And it was in that
order that she saw him. His real name was Beauregard Irwin Grover
Mann, but ever since she’d noticed his initials spelled “Big,”
that’s what she’d called him. She slid her hand across his
whisker-studded cheek, then spooned more oat mush into her
toothless nag’s mouth. “You like this, don’t you, Dammit?” she
asked the old horse, watching him gum the food.
Big stomped his foot. “Did you hear me,
Goldie Mae?”
“I heard you, Big. Great day Miss Agnes,
folks back in America probably heard you. Y’know, when you scream
like that, you remind me of Elvin Moots back in Green As a Gourd,
Virginia. Uncle Asa and I lived in Green As a Gourd about two years
before we met you. Anyway, Elvin Moots never talked soft, but only
yelled. One day he opened his mouth to scream, and no sound came
out at all. I’ll swannee, not even as much as a low murmur, Big,
and I’m not makin’ that up. Daddy’s honor. He—”
She broke off and cocked her head. “Did I
ever tell you why I say ‘Daddy’s honor’? Most folks swear on the
Bible, but see, my daddy—God rest his soul—was the most honest man
in the world. So when I say ‘Daddy’s honor’ it’s the same as
swearin’ what I say to be the Gospel truth. I never lie against
Daddy’s honor, Big.”
“Goldie, I’ve been with you for four years.
Don’t you think that’s time enough for me to learn why you say
‘Daddy’s honor’? Besides, we’re discussing the duke.”
“No, we’re discussin’ Elvin Moots,” she
corrected him, still spooning mush between Dammit’s smacking lips.
“Leonie Bradshaw said he’d busted up his throat from so many years
of hollerin’. He was the preacher, y’see, and loved the sound of
his own voice. Sundays came, and we all brought dinner and supper
with us to church. Nobody thought it’d be proper to faint from
hunger in the Lord’s house. Reverend Elvin Moots didn’t mind us
eatin’ durin’ the sermons, but heaven help the poor soul who went
to sleep.
“Anyhow, after he lost his voice, we didn’t
go to church anymore because there wasn’t a minister. Duncan
Gilmore tried preachin’ for a while, but nobody in town trusted a
man who wore a skirt and went around with naked knees. He said he
was Scottish and that his skirt was part of his heritage, but folks
didn’t believe that for one minute.”
She looked at Big from the corner of her
eye. “So you better watch that screamin’, Big, or you’ll turn into
another Elvin Moots.”
She picked up the tin bucket, slid the
handle into the crook of her elbow, and proceeded down the
meandering path that led to her newest home, an ancient stone
cottage. “Uncle Asa and I left Green As a Gourd soon after that,”
she continued as Big trailed along behind her. “Myra Carney caught
Uncle Asa tryin’ to steal her corset right off the clothesline.
See, Uncle Asa had had too much to drink, and when he saw the
corset he wondered if it would make him look thinner. He didn’t
mean any harm.”
She stopped for a moment to examine a
spiderweb floating from a wooden post. A small moth was caught
inside it. With a gentle touch, she freed it. “Anyway, we packed up
and left that night because the townsfolk said they were gonna
string him up for what he did to Myra Carney. It near about did her
in to look out her window and see a man wearin’ her corset. Doc
Burpy had to stay with her all afternoon. But I’ll tell you the
truth, Big—I think Myra Carney and Doc Burpy were more than just
doctor and patient, and that the only reason he stayed at her house
for so long was because they were lovin’ up on each other.
“Uncle Asa and I went to Tennessee after
that. Little town called Pickinsville. I liked it there. Thought
maybe we’d finally found somewhere we could send down some roots,
y’know, Big? But we didn’t fit in there either. Hadn’t been there
even a month when Uncle Asa got drunk and proposed to Hank Cooper’s
wife, Nellie. I don’t think Hank would’ve run us out of town if
Nellie hadn’t accepted Uncle Asa’s proposal. After
Pickinsville…well, you know the story. I’ve been everywhere.”
She arrived at the cracked wooden door of
the dilapidated cottage. After setting down her bucket, she picked
a handful of bright yellow dandelions, caressed her chin with them,
and looked out at the green hills around her. “And now here I am in
the royal country of England. I know we’ve only been here for nine
days, Big, but I
am
part English, y’know. On Daddy’s side. I
feel bad that Uncle Asa’s runnin’ from just about every lawman in
America is what brought us over here, but I’m glad we’re here. And
I’m glad you came with us, Big. And I’m glad—”
“Goldie, I’m glad you’re so glad, but about
making a duke… You—”
“And just think, Big! This cottage belonged
to my great-aunt Delia Mae! I forgot to tell you that a few days
ago I found her diaries hidden up in the ceilin’ rafters. I was
cleanin’ down spiderwebs, and they were right there in a burlap
sack. A lot of ’em have gotten wet from rain seepin’ through the
roof, and you can hardly read ’em. But some are all right. Anyway,
I read a few of ’em, and Aunt Delia wrote that she was born right
here in this cottage. Imagine how nice that would be, stayin’ in
one place for your whole life. I bet the roots Aunt Delia sent down
here go clear through the earth and out the other side. She must
have fit in here real good. I can’t believe she died only a month
ago. I…I never even got to meet her. If only we’d gotten here
sooner.”
Big watched her eyes mist and waited before
continuing. He knew her tears would be gone soon, for she never
allowed herself to cry for long. Just as he suspected, she was
smiling in the next moment. “Goldie—”
“England.” The word came from Goldie on a
long, contented sigh. “Wonder when I’ll get to visit Queen
Victoria? Wonder if anyone ever calls her
Vicky
? I bet you a
trillion dollars that’s her nickname. Mildred Fickle back in
Sparrow Nest, South Carolina, made it her business to know
everything there is to know about royalty, and she said Queen Vicky
has a special crown for everything she does. An eatin’ crown, a
walkin’ crown, a bath crown…she even has a soft crown to wear to
bed. I’ll swannee, I bet the poor woman spends half the day tryin’
to remember which crown she’s supposed to wear.”
Big kicked a rock across the yard and
stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Goldie, I don’t know a thing
about Queen
Vicky
or England. Neither did Mildred Fickle,
and neither do you. This idea of yours about making a duke out of a
commoner is the craziest thing I’ve heard in my entire life.”
“But it’s the only solution to the problem.”
She sank to the dirt, her gaze directed at the horizon.
Big squatted beside her and noticed she
wouldn’t look at him. His suspicions grew. “Well, would you mind
telling me
what
the problem is, and why this plan of yours
is the only solution?”
