Diamonds and Dreams (47 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Paisley

Tags: #historical romance, #regency romance, #humorous romance, #lisa kleypas, #eloisa james, #rebecca paisley, #teresa medeiros, #duke romance

BOOK: Diamonds and Dreams
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“Well...” Saber hedged, silently applauding
his aunts on their magnificent performances. “Goldie, who have you
been seeing behind my back?”

Her mouth dropped open; she stared at him.
“Saber, I haven’t seen—”

“You know very well how I feel about you,”
Saber cut her off. “And what do you do? You flirt with another man!
You’ve gone out and made another man fall in love with you, and now
the blackguard has sent you all these—”

“Saber, I swear I’ve haven’t done that! I
hardly ever leave the house! Daddy’s honor! I don’t see how any man
could have seen me and decided to love me! I—”

“You are always hanging out of your bedroom
window,” Clara scolded lightly. “I have caught you doing it more
times than I can count. It could be that the gentleman who sent you
these gifts has caught you doing it also.”

“And you have raced out of the house many
times,” Lucille pointed out. “Every time Itchie Bon escapes, you go
tearing after him. We have all asked you repeatedly not to resort
to such behavior, but you do not listen. At any rate, it’s possible
your admirer has seen you racing down the street! And it is obvious
he has a good eye, too. All the things he sent will fit you
perfectly. Yes, it is apparent to me he has studied you very
carefully.”

“You’re a very beautiful girl,” Clara said.
“The gentleman who bestowed these lovely things upon you clearly
believes that a beautiful girl deserves pretty things.”

Goldie worried her bottom lip. “But how
could he have known my name?”

Clara laughed. “My dear, a name is very easy
to learn! I’ve no doubt your gentleman found out through the
servants. Domestics are not as discreet as they should be, I’m
afraid.”

“It’s not uncommon for a gentleman to send a
lovely young girl a present, Goldie,” Lucille explained. “And he
doesn’t always let her know he sent it. I remember receiving a
lovely book of poetry. I never discovered who sent it. Someone sent
me a lace shawl once, too. It was so beautiful.” She closed her
eyes, pretending to remember things that had never happened.

“And
I
have received flowers from a
secret admirer,” Clara announced, her hand over her heart. “It was
most romantic.”

“Well, I don’t see anything
romantic
about this at all,” Saber growled, frowning outside and smiling
inside. “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever—”

“Hush, Saber,” Clara commanded. “The gifts
are for Goldie, and you have no right to become belligerent over
them. I must admit it is rather unusual and not a little shocking
that the gentleman in question sent things as intimate as clothing,
but I suppose we can bend the rules just a bit in this matter,
don’t you, Lucille?”

Lucille pushed her spectacles back onto her
nose. “I do indeed. If we knew who sent them, Goldie could return
them. But since we do not know, I see no reason why she should not
keep and enjoy them.”

In a gesture of feigned irritation, Saber
slammed his fist into his other palm. “Rapscallion. Scullion! Uh...
What was the other insulting Shakespearean name you taught me?”

It took a moment for Goldie to remember.
“Fustilarian?”

“Yes! Fustilarian!”

Lucille and Clara blanched simultaneously.
“Saber, I cannot believe you are speaking in such an impolite
fashion!” Clara said.

Aunt Lucy shook her head. “Oh, Saber. For
shame.”


Bloody
fustilarian!” Saber gave an
almost imperceptible wink to his aunts, who both restrained from
scolding him for his rude language.

“Do you really think some fella saw me from
the window or when I was outside? Goldie looked at the three people
staring at her. “Do you really think he might have...liked me?” she
asked disbelievingly.


Liked
you?” Saber snapped. “Goldie,
it’s obvious he spent a veritable fortune on all these gifts! I
believe it’s quite safe to say he’s
enamored
of you! And as
Aunt Lucy said, it is painfully apparent that he has been examining
you extremely closely! For him to know your size, he had to
have—”

“Saber, you are shouting,” Clara said.
“Remember yourself.”

Goldie saw Saber’s distress. It made her
feel terrible to know he was so upset, and she tried to think of
how to soothe him. But as the seconds passed, and she continued
pondering his extreme irritation, she decided it wasn’t the most
awful thing she’d ever seen before. In fact, it made her giddy with
pleasure! Saber was acting jealous! Even if he wasn’t
real
jealous, it was obvious he was a little bit!

It was the first time in her life a man had
felt that way about her.

She smiled, feeling a touch of smugness. Oh,
it was wonderful, this small power she had over Saber! And to think
someone out there in that great big world actually thought her
worthy of such beautiful gifts... Well, it was just the most
astonishing and wonderful thing that had ever happened to her!
“Now, Saber, you just have to grit your teeth and bear this,” she
told him crisply, gathering a multitude of gowns in her arms. “It’s
not like I’m gonna marry the man, y’know. I don’t even know who he
is!”

“Well, that doesn’t change the fact that he
sent you all these presents,” Saber complained, loving every second
of pretending he was jealous. “The man is obviously trying to win
you over before ever even meeting you!”

“I didn’t set out to make him—To make
him...”

“Enamored,” Saber supplied.

“Enamored. He just saw me, got enamored, and
that was that,” she told him flippantly.

“Really, Saber,” Clara admonished, trying
not to smile, “control yourself.” She rang the bell that brought
the servants back. “Take these packages upstairs to Miss Mae’s
room,” she instructed them when they arrived. “And Goldie, you go,
too. Lucille and I will be right behind you.”

Saber chuckled quietly when Goldie swept
past him, her nose tilted to the ceiling.

“Do you think we fooled her?” Lucille asked
when Goldie was gone.

“Completely,” Saber said. “She’s quite
gullible, which is an aspect of her character that I happen to like
very much.”

“However did you manage to visit the
seamstresses, shoemakers, and jewelers without being seen all over
town, Marion?” Lucille queried. “I realize Lord Chittingdon has
already seen you, but it seems to me that you would want to avoid
being seen again. After all, one of your acquaintances might be
inclined to follow you here.”

Saber remembered all the darting around he’d
done. All the clandestine meetings he’d held with the men and women
who’d made Goldie’s wardrobe. That, combined with the nagging
impatience he felt over not having heard from Tyler Escott, had
made the past few days extremely difficult ones. “It wasn’t easy,
but I managed.”

Clara beamed. “It has finally happened. You
cannot know how long I have hoped and prayed that you would fall in
love again, Marion. And Goldie is such a fine girl. Granted, she is
a bit unpolished here and there, but Lucille and I will see to
that.”

Saber tapped his fingers upon the sofa arm.
“Do not polish her so completely that there is nothing left of
her,” he said, a note of warning in his voice. “I love her because
of the way she is, not for what she could be. I’ll not have the two
of you turning her into one of those pretentious women I
abhor.”

Clara sighed. “You would do well to leave
her to us, Marion. We—”

“I know what I love about Goldie, and I mean
for her to stay the way she
is
,” he stated in a voice that
dared his aunts to argue.

“Very well,” Clara said. Taking Lucille’s
arm, she led her sister out of the drawing room. “Marion is right,
you know, Lucille,” she admitted as they swept into the entryway
and headed for the staircase. “We can and should teach Goldie good
manners, but her natural exuberance should not be tampered with.
Let us be careful. However, as for the way those two look at each
other... Don’t you think we should keep a closer eye on them? There
is a strong attraction between them,” she hinted quietly,
blushing.

“Yes, I’ve noticed it also, Clara,” Lucille
said, twisting her bracelet. “Not that there is anything wrong
about a handsome man and a beautiful girl being attracted to each
other, but—Well, you are quite right, sister. We mustn’t allow them
to lose their heads. We
are
, after all, their chaperones. As
such, it is our obligation to see that strict morals are
upheld.”

“I don’t imagine we will have much success
with our Marion, though. He has been well out of our reach for
years. Goldie, however, is in our hands. We will teach
her
about what is allowed and what isn’t, and then Marion will have no
other choice but to respect her wishes.”

Lucille nodded in absolute agreement, then
began to dwell on the afternoon’s activities. “Goldie truly loves
the gifts. It did my heart good to see the happiness in her eyes.
She’s really such a lovely person, Clara.”

“I must admit I was distressed when Marion
would not allow us to help him choose the gifts. But he really did
a splendid job by himself. Everything he picked out suits Goldie’s
coloring and small stature. What a clever idea he had taking her
frock and a pair of her shoes with him to the seamstresses and
shoemakers. They used the dress and shoes to determine her sizes,
you know.”

“I know. And I confess it was terribly
difficult keeping a straight face when she discovered the dress and
shoes were missing,” Lucille said, smiling. “I even pretended to
help her look for them!”

Clara laughed. “But did you notice, Lucille,
that there was one thing missing from the wide assortment of gifts
he bought for her?”

“What is that?”

“Well, it’s certainly not our Marion’s
fault,” Clara said as they reached the upper landing and turned
down the hallway. “It’s not his place to—Well, what I mean to say,
Lucille—Marion is a man. He cannot be expected to consider such a
thing. But the dressmakers should have thought of it.”

“Clara, whatever are you talking about?”

“My dear Lucille, not a single one of the
dozens of boxes Goldie opened contained a thread of
underwear!

 

* * *

 

Dusk had fallen before Tyler was able to get
away from Asa Mae long enough to scurry behind the dense hedgerows
on the outskirts of Hallensham. “Damn the man!” he cursed to
Ingram, one of the detectives who’d accompanied him to Ravenhurst.
“What the hell is his problem? He follows me around like some
overgrown, adoring puppy! I could understand his attachment to me
if he knew about my connection with his niece in London, but he
knows nothing at all about that! And he’s not at all the drunken
ogre Lord Tremayne described him to be. I almost wish the man
would
drink! Drink himself into oblivion so I could carry on
my investigation without him acting like my second shadow!”

Ingram smiled, hunkering down beside his
employer. “From what I’ve noticed, sir, Asa Mae doesn’t have many
friends here. Besides the dwarf, no one pays much attention to him.
Since you were very polite to him when we arrived, I imagine he
sees you as someone with whom he could possibly strike up a
friendship.”

Tyler muttered another curse and looked
through the branches of the hedgerow. He had a perfect view of the
Tremayne manor house. “There she is, going into the house again.
Dora Mashburn. During what free time Asa has allowed me, I’ve been
watching her. It’s all a lie, Ingram. Hutchins is not sick in his
bed. He’s not even here.”

Ingram watched Dora disappear into the
mansion. “How do you know?”

“Dora’s been in and out of the house, but
the only room she ever bothers to illuminate is that one she’s
lighting up now. Judging by its location, I know full well it’s not
a bedroom. If Hutchins were sick, he’d be in a bedroom. Dora is
only visiting the mansion to keep the villagers from guessing
Hutchins is gone.”

“She
did
act rather queer when
Dickinson and I told her we wanted to speak to the estate manager
about employment.”

“Well, she hasn’t seen
me
yet. I’m
going up there to talk to her. You and Dickinson continue chatting
with the villagers. I realize they’ve told us naught so far, but
it’s important to keep trying. Maybe one of them will remember
something. And for God’s sake, keep that Asa Mae character from
looking for me. The last thing I need is for him to interrupt my
time with Dora.”

When Ingram was gone, Tyler took a moment to
concentrate on his plan, then walked to the house. As he reached
it, an old woman waved to him from the yard. He returned her
greeting, and knocked on the door.

Dora opened it. “Who are ya, an’ wot do ya
want? I’ve got a sick man ter care fer, an’ I can’t be bothered
now.”

Tyler removed his hat and bowed his head.
“You must be Lady Hutchins,” he said, taking hold of her hand and
pressing his lips to it. He saw no ring on the fingers he held to
his mouth, nor did he see one on her other hand.

Dora blushed with pleasure. “Yes,” she said,
pulling back her shoulders, “I’m Lady Hutchins. Wot can I do fer
ya?”

Tyler smiled. “My name is Mr. Tyler. I’m
aware that Lord Hutchins isn’t here. You see, I’ve been sent by
him, milady. May I come in?”

Dora hesitated. “Do ya have a message fer
me?”

Tyler prayed his plan would work. It was
risky at best, but it was the only one he had. “I’m to see to the
master bedroom, milady. Lord Hutchins said that for the past five
years, you’ve been wanting to redecorate it.” Tyler’s palms began
to perspire as he waited for her reaction.

Dora’s entire face lit up. She pulled him
into the house. “Oh! Yes! Did ya bring all the materials with ya?
Can I see—”

“Oh, no, milady. I must do much
concentrating before we get to
that
point. For today I will
see the room. Study it. Take measurements. Will you take me to
it?”

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