Diamonds and Dreams (50 page)

Read Diamonds and Dreams Online

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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“An’ yer gold eyes. An’ ’e don’t mind yer
bein’ real little, neither,” Rosie reminded her.

Goldie looked down at the beautiful gown she
was wearing. “And
someone
likes me enough to have sent me
all the gifts. If one man can feel like that, I reckon—Well, maybe
Saber can too. Maybe he really meant it when he said he loved
me.”

Rosie smiled a sad smile. She understood how
hard it was for Goldie to believe Saber could love her, and said a
quick prayer that Goldie would soon completely trust the love Saber
offered. “So wot are ya goin’ ter do, luv? Will ya still takes ’im
ter ’Allensham?”

Goldie sighed heavily. “That’s the problem.
If I take him, of course he’ll have to leave. And I couldn’t go
with him because someone has to see to Uncle Asa. I can’t let Big
do it forever. And if I
don’t
take him, we’ll all get tossed
out of town just like we always do. Oh, Rosie, what am I gonna
do?”

She plopped into a chair, blowing curls out
of her face again. “Y’know, I might have been little when my
parents were alive, but I remember how they always got their
problems solved. I told you the story about how they both wanted to
live in their home states and eventually came to an agreement by
livin’ on top of the state line. See? Not even a big problem like
that was too much for ’em. They came up with an answer. But I guess
none of that problem-solvin’ of theirs rubbed off on me. Maybe I
just wasn’t with ’em long enough to learn how they did it.”

Rosie ran her roughened palm over the satin
coverlet. “But they ’ad each other, luv. Iffen one ’ad a problem,
t’other ’elped solve it. I remember me own mum an’ da, God rest
their souls. Sometimes they’d stay up all night talkin’ about their
troubles. There weren’t no kind o’ problem—no matter ’ow bad it
was—wot they couldn’t solve together, there weren’t. That’s one o’
the best things about ’avin’ a mate, an’ I sure ’ope I gets me a
good one someday.”

Goldie nodded, looking at the rug. “Yeah,
that’s a good thing about havin’ a mate. You’re never alone with
your—” She lifted her head up. A flame of hope warmed her heart.
“Rosie,” she whispered, pausing for a long moment. “I—I don’t
have
to be alone. I mean...I do have someone who might could
help me figure out what to do. He’s not my mate, but...”

“Yer friend Big?”

Goldie picked up a yellow curl, winding it
around her finger and tugging on it nervously. “No, not Big.” She
stood and began to pace, still fiddling with her curl. “He’s never
lied to me, Rosie. I can’t think of a single time when he’s been
dishonest with me. And—And I do sorta think he likes me a lot.
He...might even—Like I said, maybe he even loves me a little
bit.”

She stopped at the bed, taking hold of one
of the bedposts. “I’ll swannee, I’ve been so dumb! My mama had my
daddy, and he had her. Your parents had each other too, and—Rosie,
I’ve got Saber!”

“Wot—”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this
before! Great day Miss Agnes, here I’ve been mopin’ around,
worryin’ myself into a fit as if Saber didn’t have anything at all
to do with it! And—” Her eyes widened as a new thought burst into
her spinning mind. “Oh, Rosie,” she murmured.

“Oh, Goldie,” Rosie echoed. “Tell me wot the
bleedin’ ’ell yer talkin’ about!”

“I reckon it’s really true,” Goldie
exclaimed, laughing into her hands. “I
trust
him! When and
how it happened—Who knows? Who cares?” She flew to the window.
“Where the hell is that man? Oh, Rosie, how am I gonna be able to
stand it until he gets home! What if he stays gone for hours,
and—”

“Goldie! Ya ain’t makin’ no sense! I
can’t—”

“But it’s so simple, Rosie! My problems
aren’t just
mine!
Saber’s in on ’em too! So why the hell
have I been tryin’ to do all the decision-makin’ by myself? He’s
the smartest man I’ve ever come across. And a man that smart...
Y’see, what I don’t think of, he might. And what he doesn’t think
of, I might. Surely if we talk about all this together, we’ll
figure somethin’ out!”

“Coo, Goldie! Yer right!”

Goldie smiled a faraway smile. “Trust.” The
word felt beautiful to say. “‘Course I don’t understand everything
there is to know about love, but one thing I know is that a big
part of it is trust. The two go together like...like biscuits and
molasses! Who would ever eat biscuits without molasses, Rosie?
‘Cept ole Feenie Spackle back in Koonce Cove, Virginia. Molasses
made her lips swell up. They’d swell up s’bad, she couldn’t even
talk. And Feenie
loved
to talk. Sometimes her mama’d pour
molasses down her throat just to shut her up.”

Rosie had no idea what molasses were, but
laughed anyway. “Ya got offen the subject a bit, luv, but ya know
wot yer sayin’? Goin’ on an’ on about ‘ow ya trusts Saber, an’ ‘ow
trust an’ love go together...”

Rosie’s meaning found fertile ground.
Goldie’s eyes widened again. Astonishment touched each part of her.
“My diamond dreams,” she whispered.

At the look of awe in her friend’s eyes,
Rosie smiled. “I’ll leaves ya now, Goldie,” she said, hopping off
the bed. “Looks to me like ya got some thinkin’ ter do afore ya
talk to yer Saber. An’ it’s almost dark, anyway. Iffen I don’t
starts fer ’ome now, it’ll be midnight afore I get there. Anything
ya wants me ter do fer ya afore I leave?”

Goldie stared at her friend. “Yes,” she said
softly. “If you’ve got any faith at all in the Dream Giver, Rosie,
put in a good word to Him for me. I need all the good words I can
get because what I’m askin’ from Him is the biggest diamond dream
of ’em all.”

 

* * *

 

Jillian sank into a garnet velvet chair in
her parlor, her glacial blue eyes never leaving Saber. He was
standing in the middle of the room, his coat still on, his hat and
gloves still in his hands. “Why?”

He returned her direct look, thinking about
how tall she was. He decided she
was
too tall for a woman.
“Jillian, please try to understand. I never made any promises to
you. You accepted our relationship for exactly what it was, did you
not?”

Her eyes hardened. “No! I was to be your
duchess!”

He noticed the generous display of her
breasts and the deep, shadowed valley between them. God, he
thought. They looked like flesh-colored watermelons. “No, Jillian,
you were not to be my duchess, and you never once heard me say that
you would.”

“But you love me!”

“No,” he said as gently as he knew how. I
love my poppet called Goldie.

Jillian clutched her silk skirt tightly,
gathering her emotions. “But you showed me you loved me. In many
ways.”

Saber exhaled slowly. “Jillian, why do you
insist on making this harder than it has to be?”

“But—But you—Marion, you were going to give
me everything I wanted! You were! I know you were!”

He glared at her, thinking about the drastic
differences between her and Goldie. Jillian took it for granted
that she deserved the world and everything in it. Goldie found it
almost impossible to believe she’d received a few gowns and some
trinkets.

“It’s someone else, isn’t it, Marion?”
Jillian demanded. “You’ve a new mistress to warm your bed! You’ve
been with her during the many weeks you’ve been gone! You’ve been
in Scotland with her! Why—Why, she’s the writer from America I’ve
heard about, isn’t she!”

Saber raised his chin. “I’ve said what I
came to say. I regret any distress I may have caused you, but as I
said, I never made any promises to you. Any assumptions you made
were entirely your own.”

Jillian rose and crossed to him. “But I love
you, Marion,” she whispered, great tears slipping down her
face.

Saber shook his head. “Jillian, you love my
fortune. My title. Beyond those things—”

“No! Marion, I love—”

“You don’t even know me.”

“How can you say that? Why, I knew you even
before Angelica did! I’ve known you for almost ten years!
I’ve—”

“Did you know I used to make dandelion stew?
Did you know that I had a tree house? Did you know that I collected
rocks and made yellow paint from pollen? Did you know that I could
whistle with two fingers in my mouth? Did you know I was once
afraid of thunder? Jillian,” he said, taking a step away from her,
“did it ever occur to you that there is a common man beneath the
nobleman?”

“A common man? Marion, you are not a
commoner! You’re the
Duke of Ravenhurst!

He smiled a bittersweet smile. “And to you,
Jillian, that is all I’ve ever been and all I ever will be.”

Sensing defeat, she pressed her body close
to his again, counting on her ample charms to win him back. “This
new woman in your life, Marion...this American—Does she make you
feel the way I do?” she purred, slipping her arms around his neck
and flicking her tongue along his jawbone. “Does she know all the
tricks that I do? Tell me, my darling diamond duke, does she heat
your blood the way I do?”

Her heavy rose-scented perfume was
sickeningly sweet to him. He couldn’t understand why he’d once
found it so intriguing. Nor could he comprehend why he’d thought
her so incredibly sensual. He felt nothing at all for her now.
“Good-bye, Jillian.” He removed her hands from around his neck,
turned, and left her standing there.

When she heard the front door close, fiery
anger shot through her. “No, Marion,” she hissed. “There will never
be a good-bye between us. You
did
promise to make me your
duchess. Your vow was unspoken, true, but you swore in a thousand
ways. Every time you kissed me, I heard your pledge. Every time you
held me, made love to me, I felt you give me your word. And if it
is the last thing I do on earth, I will hold you to your
troth.”

 

* * *

 

As Saber stepped inside the house and handed
his coat, hat, and gloves to Bennett, he noticed the vase of
blackened roses in the foyer. “Why are those in here?”

“Miss Rosie Tetter brought them this
afternoon, sir. I was going to dispose of them, but Miss Mae asked
me to leave them here for a few days in case Miss Tetter should
return. She doesn’t want her friend’s feelings hurt. I—If you don’t
mind me saying so, sir, Miss Mae is really one of the kindest
persons I’ve ever had the good fortune to know.”

At Bennett’s words, Saber warmed with pride.
“She is at that,” he agreed, heading for the staircase. Taking the
steps three at a time, he reached the upper landing and walked
toward Goldie’s bedroom, his quick, confident stride evidence of
his exhilaration. Not only had he gotten the ordeal with Jillian
over and done with, but he’d also stopped by the jeweler’s and
received good news from the man. The ring would be ready early
tomorrow evening. By tomorrow night, Goldie might very well be his
intended, the future Duchess of Ravenhurst. That thought was
uppermost in his mind as he arrived at her open door.

She was sitting on the edge of her bed. He
lost his breath when he saw her. Her flaxen curls lay in wild
disarray upon the shoulders of her deep green gown, making him
think of pure, sweet sunshine pouring down on a carpet of grass. He
loved the contrast of the beautiful colors.

“Poppet,” he greeted her, his entire body
aching to rush in and sweep her into his arms.

Goldie looked up from the lacy bonnet she
held in her lap and saw him standing in the threshold. He looked
devilishly handsome in his snug black pants and ivory cambric
shirt. Sable curls framed his face, one of them touching the corner
of his eye. And he was smiling that crooked, boyish grin she so
loved to see.

She longed to jump off the bed, throw
herself into his arms, and tell him about all the wonderful
discoveries she’d made earlier. But remembering the stern lecture
the aunties had given her a while ago, and recalling also that the
two women were just down the hall, she struggled to subdue the
urge. Instead, she lifted her chin, trying to contain her wild
impatience. “Saber, I need to talk to you.”

He recognized her attempt at propriety and
decided to see if he could coerce her out of it. “Indeed. Tell me,
Goldie love, is
talking
all you’d like to do with me?”

His question jolted her with desire. “Saber,
please be serious. I really do need to talk to you.”

“As you wish.” He put his foot forward.

“Not here! Miss Lucy and Miss Clara were
just in here, and they said I can’t let you in—”

“Saber!” Clara exclaimed as she arrived.
“What are you doing in Goldie’s bedroom?”

He stiffened. “I’m not in her bedroom. I’m
standing in the hall, to my knowledge, that is not a breach of
etiquette.”

“We were only talkin’!” Goldie added
loudly.

Clara raised a brow. “You may talk tomorrow.
It is getting late, Goldie. A proper young lady should be preparing
to retire, and a
gentleman
,” she said to Saber, “should
allow her privacy in order to do so. Say good night to Goldie,
Saber, and then go do whatever it is you do at this hour. I shall
return shortly with Margaret.” With that, she left.

Saber waited until his aunt disappeared,
then turned back to Goldie. “We can talk for a few moments. I
would, however, prefer to be closer to you while we converse.”

She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Lord, it
had been so long. Oh, to feel him close to her! “I—Saber, you—Miss
Clara and Miss Lucy have been so good to me. I get ill sometimes
with all the lessons about bein’ so proper, but Saber, I just
couldn’t disappoint ’em. I—You can’t come in here.”

“Very well, then you come to me.”

She was afraid of what his nearness would do
to her. Surely the feel of him next to her would send her over the
brink of control. “No. You’ll do somethin’ you’re not supposed to
do. I’m tellin’ you, Saber, Miss Lucy and Miss Clara are gonna
bring Margaret in just a minute!”

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