Diamonds and Dreams (34 page)

At his bellowing, hurt spiraled through her.
But so did anger. Dammit, he wouldn’t even listen to her
explanations! Wouldn’t even try to understand how important her
plan was! “Don’t you yell at me!” she hollered in a rare show of
defiance.

Her shout took him aback. He’d never seen
her truly angry at him before. “You shouted at me,” he said,
amazed.

Ire continued to weave through Goldie.
“Well, you yelled at me first! Y’want me to be upset over what
happened to me today, Saber? Do you? All right, fine!” She wrung
her hands. Her chin on her chest, she began to shake as forcefully
as she could get her body to do it. “Oh!” she wailed. “Oh, Saber,
it was
awful!
All those fish heads! That black air! Those
screechin’ animals! And no growin’ plants anywhere! The scare I got
was so terrible, I just know that if I keep on thinkin’ about it,
I’ll be dead by tonight!”

Despite his anger, his lips twitched at her
dramatic performance. “All right, Goldie, you have made your point.
Now tell me what happened.”

“Rosie helped Goldie find this neighborhood,
Saber,” Addison explained instead. “Then Goldie recognized my
house. I’d been out all morning looking for her. When I didn’t find
her, I came home. Not ten minutes later, she arrived with
Rosie.”

“It ain’t none o’ me business,” Rosie told
Saber, “but iffen ya’ve got a mind ter ’old onter Goldie, ya’d best
not let ’er go back ter where I found ’er. She was like a lamb
surrounded by a bleedin’ pack o’ ’ungry wolfs, she was.”

Saber glared at Goldie. “Do you know how
dangerous the East—”

“Rosie got rid of Og Drit for me,” Goldie
said, casting a bright smile at her new friend. “He’s a
meat-monger, Saber. I learned what that is. And I learned what a
bald-headed hermit is too. We don’t say that word in America,
y’know.”

“Goldie!”

She looked up at him, grinning. “Well, we
don’t. And it’s not in my dictionary either.”

Rosie smiled. “Then there’s some who call it
the best o’ three legs, too,” she added naughtily.

Goldie giggled. “Saber, do
you
know
what those words—”

“I know
exactly
what they mean!” he
exploded, more anger bursting inside him at the thought of her at
the mercy of East End whoremongers. “Goldie, did anyone touch you
while you were there? Did any harm at all come—”

“She’s fine, Saber,” Addison intervened.
“Settle down, old boy.”

Saber placed his hand on Goldie’s shoulder.
“I don’t know whether to hug you because you’re safe, or shake you
because you left in the first place. What could you have been
thinking? What—”

“I was lookin’ for dukes.”

“In the
slums?
Granted, I know little
about the nobility, but I’m reasonably certain you won’t find the
aristocracy milling about in—”

“Saber—”

“Goldie,” Rosie cut in, “I got ter go now,
luv.” She turned to Addison, smiling at him. “Obliged fer the meal,
sir. Iffen there’s anything I can ever do ter repay yer kindness,
ya knows where ter finds me.”

Saber looked at Rosie. Dear God, he thought.
If not for the kindhearted urchin, Goldie might have been lost to
him forever. “On the contrary, Rosie. We owe
you
a great
debt of gratitude. If it weren’t for you, our Goldie might still be
wandering around lost. Or...or worse.” He pulled a wad of bills
from his pocket and held it out to her.

Rosie’s eyes welled with tears. She looked
up at Saber. “But Goldie told me ya ain’t got no money of yer own,
sir. I can’t take—”

“You can and you will,” Saber insisted,
taking her hand and pressing the thick roll into it. “And if you
should ever need help in any way, you may contact me through Mr.
Gage. Do not hesitate to do so.”

“Gawblimey,” Rosie muttered, staring down at
the money. She looked up at Saber and Addison. “Black as Newgate’s
knocker, I am, an’ ya let me inter yer warm, clean ’ome, feedin’
an’ treatin’ me like I was somebody special. Then ya give me money
fer doin’ a simple kindness. The Lord bless ya both.”

Goldie embraced her friend and led her to
the front door. “I’ll come see you as soon as I can, Rosie.”

Rosie shook her head. “Goldie, wot can ya be
thinkin’, luv? Don’t ya never go back there again, ’ear? I might
not be around next time, an’ then...” She broke off, and patted
Goldie’s shoulder. “‘Ang onter that Saber, Goldie. An’ count yer
blessins. ’E ain’t only the nicest-lookin’ man I ever seed, but
‘e’s generous, an’ ’e cares about ya. Wot more could any girl want
in this bloomin’ world?”

“I—Rosie, do you really think he cares about
me?”

Rosie laughed. “An’ ‘ang onter yer
sweetness, too, Goldie. It’s wot yer Saber’s tryin’ ter protect,
y’know. ’E knows wot London-town can do to a girl innocent as you.
I’ll come see ya soon. Cheerio, now.”

Goldie nodded, and waved until Rosie was out
of sight. She stood at the door for a moment thinking about what
her friend had said before remembering the exciting news she had to
tell Saber. Spinning around, she raced back to the parlor.

Saber was just leaving it when she got
there. Her sudden and speedy arrival caught him off-guard, and he
had no time at all to sidestep her. She ran straight into him.
While she clung to his neck, he staggered backward, immediately
toppling over a footstool. He landed, with a dull thud, flat on his
back, his spill made worse by Goldie, who fell directly on top of
him. “Goldie!”

She settled herself more comfortably upon
his broad chest, grabbing his shirt collar so he couldn’t get away
before she was ready to let him. “Saber, you just aren’t gonna
believe what I decided to do! I was comin’ home with Rosie, and all
of a sudden I had the greatest, idea I’ve ever had in my whole
life! Duke Marion’s in Scotland, and he’s not comin’ back any time
soon. So I thought we could—”

“Goldie, could we discuss this in a more
proper manner? We’re on the floor, you’re on top of me, and perhaps
more importantly, your knees are...well, suffice it to say, the
location of your knees is making me quite nervous.”

She frowned, then smiled when comprehension
came to her. She tried to maneuver herself away from the spot he
was so terribly afraid for.

“Good God!” Saber shouted when her knees dug
into the exact part of his body he’d tried to protect.
“Goldie—”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Just get off so I can—”

“But Saber, I didn’t get to finish tellin’
you my plan!”

“I
—”

“Y’see, we already know you look a lot like
Duke Marion. You can eat, walk, and talk like a duke. And you know
a lot about Duke Marion from what you’ve read in Aunt Delia’s
diaries, so what I decided we’d do is—”

“Goldie—”

“We’ll go to the dukish parties, and—”

“Allow me to assist you, Goldie,” Addison
broke in, offering her his hand and helping her rise.

Saber struggled to his feet, glared at
Goldie, and straightened his rumpled clothes.

“Are you all right, Saber?” Addison asked,
feeling genuine sympathy for his friend.

“I suspect I’ll live, but I have serious
doubts about the possibility of ever enjoying the pleasures of
fatherhood.”

Addison chuckled. “Your voice
does
sound several octaves higher.”

Goldie blew a curl out of her eye.
“Saber—”

“Goldie, I’m taking you to my own house.” He
looked at Addison. “I trust all is well there?” Addison’s nod told
him that Mrs. Stubbs had been successful at speedily gathering a
full staff of trustworthy servants for him. Too, he knew those
servants had not been told who he was. “Splendid.”

“Saber,
listen!
” Goldie entreated
loudly. “Somehow, we’re gonna get us some fancy clothes, then we’re
gonna just waltz right into all those duke get-togethers! Nobody’ll
say anything to us because you’re gonna tell ’em all that
you’re—”

“Goldie, we will discuss this in the
carriage,” he lied, his plans for the ride having nothing at all to
do with talking about her harebrained scheme. “We’re off, Addison.
Many thanks for your hospitality.”

Addison waved away his friend’s gratitude.
“If you will excuse me?” he begged off, anxious to give Saber and
Goldie time alone.

When Addison was gone, Saber swept his hand
toward the foyer. “All right, Goldie, shall we leave for—”

Goldie stomped her foot, then took hold of
Saber’s collar again. Pulling him down to her level, she speared
him with a narrow-eyed stare. “You’re gonna be Duke Marion while
we’re here, got that? We’re gonna go to the dukish parties, and
you’re gonna tell everybody you’re the duke. Talk about Ravenhurst,
and Dane Hutchins, and Angelica, and all those Tremayne family
things. Tell everybody Scotland was full of Scottish stuff just
like it always is. Maybe you could even do one of those Scottish
jigs for everybody as proof you’ve been there. Saber, once you
start talkin’ about stuff only the real duke could know, no one’s
gonna suspect you aren’t who you say you are!”

“Goldie—”

“We’ll be so close to all those dukish folks
that we’ll be able to see everything there is to see about ’em.
Hell, we’ll even be able to interrogate ’em. I’m gonna be posin’ as
a writer from America, y’see. I’ve got it all planned, Saber. I’ll
tell everybody I’m writin’ a book about dukish folks, and that
you’re takin’ me around so I can do all my studyin’. I’m sure when
they learn that, they’ll be more than happy to—”

“That,” Saber began, his lips a whisper away
from hers, “is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. We are
not going to—”

“Yes, we are.” She tightened her hold on his
collar, keeping his face in front of her own. “It’s too good of an
opportunity to pass up.”

“You
will
, however, pass it up.”

“Wanna bet?”

“How much?”

“A whole pound.”

Saber whistled. “I don’t know if I can
afford that, Goldie. A pound is—”

“All right, then we’ll make it an ounce. Can
you afford that?”

“An ounce? What in heaven’s name are you
talking about?”

“An
ounce!
An ounce of money! Great
day Miss Agnes, Saber, have you been poor for so long that you
don’t know how much an ounce is?”

Still bent over, Saber frowned and thought
hard. “An ounce. A pound,” he murmured. “Goldie, do you think a
pound is literally a pound of money?”

She saw the twinkle in his seaweed eyes and
let go of his collar. It dawned on her then that a pound wasn’t
what she thought it was. She knew, too, that she must have
misunderstood her Uncle Asa’s explanation about English money.

Saber’s slight grin reinforced her
realization. “Of course I don’t think that,” she lied, smoothing
her skirts as if it were the most important thing in the world to
do.

He understood her chagrin immediately, and
sought to soothe it. “Ah, then you were teasing me. For a second
there, I believed you didn’t know that the pound is the basic
monetary unit of England.”

“Well, of course I know that,” she agreed,
staring at her shoes. Reminding herself that Saber thought she was
teasing him, she took a moment to get hold of her embarrassment,
thankful beyond belief that he hadn’t had the chance to make fun of
her ignorance. “Now, gettin’ back to the dukish fiestas—I met a
Mexican once,” she informed him sassily. “He told me a fiesta is a
party.”

“A dukish fiesta,” he repeated, grinning a
lopsided grin. “I don’t believe I’ve ever thought of the
aristocracy’s gatherings in such a way. I don’t believe I will be
attending one either.”

She arched her brow. “Saber—”

“The carriage awaits us, Goldie,” he told
her, taking her by the elbow and leading her to the front door. He
accepted his hat from Addison’s butler, then wrapped his own coat
around Goldie’s shoulders. “Itchie Bon, you too,” he told the dog,
opening the door.

“Saber, why can’t you give my plan a try?”
Goldie asked as he helped her into the closed coach. Miffed at him,
she sat in the seat opposite from him. “What do we have to lose?
We—”

“Goldie—”

“You—”

“Come here, poppet,” he instructed, reaching
for her.

“No,” she argued, resisting his efforts to
bring her closer to him.

“Very well, I’ll come to you.” He changed
seats, holding her tightly when she tried to move to the side he’d
vacated.

“Don’t touch me, Saber.”

“Why not?”

“Because when you do, I feel like bein’ nice
to you. And I don’t want to be nice to you right now.”

He ignored her demands and lifted her into
his lap. “You may do all the duke-spying you want from the coach
window,” he told her. “I’ll take you past all the locations where
the nobility gathers, and you can—”

“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard!
Why—”

“Because I say so.”

“Well, who the hell died and made you
king?”

Her insulting question tickled him so
thoroughly, he exploded with laughter. He thought about the time,
not so very long ago, when such an unseemly query would have
infuriated him. The notion made him laugh harder.

“Go on and laugh, Saber, but you’re just
about as arrogant as ole E.B. back in Hazel’s Holler,
Kentucky.”

Still in the throes of laughter, Saber
asked, “E.B.?”

“Well, his whole name was Earl Burl, but as
you can plainly hear, that doesn’t sound right. We all called him
E.B. so we wouldn’t have to say his whole name. Anyhow, ole E.B.
was an arrogant thing. ‘Course he had some right to his arrogance,
Saber. He had this cat? Well, that cat was a direct descendent of
Johnny Appleseed’s cat. Most folks only think about Johnny
Appleseed’s ox, but he had a cat too. E.B. even had papers that
proved his cat’s bloodlines. Now, what right to arrogance do
you
have, Saber West?”

Many moments passed before Saber could
control his laughter. He looked at Goldie, hoping his expression
looked serious. “What right? Madam, did I fail to inform you that
my
ancestor was responsible for naming one of the four
cardinal directions? His name was Enoch West. He set out with his
three friends, Samuel East, Jeremiah South, and Zachary North. The
four of them—”