Heart of the Diamond (14 page)

“There now. Perhaps someone would care to apprise me of what the four of you were discussing upon my arrival. I recall something about snarling whelps, but I am certain I misheard my husband.”

Her father slipped a finger inside his collar. “Well, Angel, I don't recollect exactly how it all got started, you see.”

“Then perhaps you can jump to the middle.”

With a glance at Blake, her father cleared his throat. His teacup rattled against the saucer. He stilled the china a little desperately as he looked at his wife. “Well, the earl and me met in the library this morning. He told me he needed to have the wedding date moved forward. Business reasons, you see. Next thing, Mina was in the middle of him, saying as how she didn't care for the idea by half. Then Nick jumps in.” He paused and turned to Blake. “I tell you, Diamond, these girls aren't usually so quick to pounce on a man, if you take my meaning. Don't know what has come over them.”

Nicki surged to her feet, unable to restrain her ire any longer. “Perhaps we would not be so quick to attack if Blake had any sensibilities whatsoever! Mina has not had any time at all to accustom herself to marrying the earl. How could he possibly think she would be ready for the wedding to take place in two weeks?”

Blake's lips twitched and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Mina has no reason to accustom herself to marrying me. She is not the one I plan to marry in two weeks. It is you, my dear. And I believe you have just shown us all how accustomed to me you have become. Therefore, the matter is closed.”

She stared at him aghast, unable to close her mouth. He had not changed his mind? He had not changed his mind! “Oh, no—it is most definitely not closed!”

Once again her father materialized to take a position between the pair. “Now, Nick, don't go getting yourself in a twitter. You knew about the arrangement. All we've done is move it up a little. That isn't so bad now, is it?”

Foolish tears filled her eyes. Not so bad? Her father, with Blake's help, had taken away her dreams. She had tried to gain her freedom—and failed. Teddy could not possibly intervene in two weeks time.

Humiliated by her emotional display, Nicki flung the teacup and saucer to the carpet and fled the room. She paused in the hall. Her gaze went to the door, then back toward the staircase. Escape. She had to get away from here. Angelica would surely come hunting her and she wanted to be somewhere her stepmother would not dare go.

A few minutes later, Nicki pushed open the stable doors and slipped between them. Enveloped in the dimness of the interior, Nicki paused and let the familiar scent of fresh hay, leather, and horses pass through her frayed emotions. Sniffling, but calmer, she passed a small, pot-bellied stove and paused to enjoy the warmth that emanated from it. Her slippers whispered through the dusting of straw that covered the planked flooring as she moved on to a bale of hay pushed up against the wall outside the feed room.

The four lanterns positioned at the braces between beam and wall cast a cozy glow over the tidy waiting room, as Nicki called it. The lines of stalls beyond were darker, less welcoming.

“Andrew?”

Silence. Of course, she had forgotten that the horse trainer and his youngest son, Lee, had planned to take some of the Thoroughbreds down to the north pasture for a run this morning. Good. Andrew, with his kind dark eyes, had a way of drawing her misery out until it had no place to go but onto his shoulders. She did not want that in this instance. He would never understand.

With a heavy sigh, Nicki sat down on the bale. She leaned back against the rough boards and drew her knees up close to her chest. Despair filled her, overwhelmed her, until it spilled out in hot tears that cascaded down her cheeks and turned to salt on her lips. She clutched her arms about her legs, then rested her forehead on her bent knees.

Not only had she embarrassed herself, she had caused Mina to look like a cake as well. Her assertions to the earl that she could never be a proper countess had been drawn into the harsh light of day, yet he had chosen to hold her to the engagement—had obviously never intended to release her from it.

She could never face him again. It would be hard enough apologizing to her sister, and her father, not to mention Angelica. Why must she always be such a muttonhead?

“Angelica said I might find you here.”

Nicki gasped, quickly wiping at her face with her hands. “I would much prefer to be left to myself, my lord!” She realized her seating arrangement must be revealing a good deal of petticoat, and quickly dropped her feet to the floor.

With a rustle of hay, Blake sat down next to her. The familiar smell of the stables subsided and was quickly replaced by the spicy male fragrance belonging solely to the Earl of Diamond. Nicki kept her gaze averted, uncertain as to what Blake would do, and completely at a loss as to how she should react.

“I apologize for the misunderstanding, Nicole. I never thought you would bedevil Mina with your absurd proposal before I had a chance to speak with you. Did you honestly believe I would choose not to marry you?”

She sniffed. “Yes, I did. Mina is much more accomplished than I, even though she is younger. She would suit your needs to perfection.”

“You know nothing of my needs, Nicole Langley. If you did, perhaps you should have kept running. As matters stand, you suit me very well.”

“But I am such a goose. I forever trip on my tongue and offend people. At least here in the country I have little opportunity to do much damage.”

Blake chuckled and the sound of it brought sunlight to her mind. “You are a rare gem. Our life together shall be interesting, to say the least.”

Nicki snuck a glance from behind an untidy fall of hair. “You should be angry with me for shouting at you.”

He reached out to tuck the stray strand behind one ear. Nicki ducked her head, but Blake's finger lifted her chin gently. “You need never fear me, Nicole. I prefer your honesty and I would have it now. Something else is disturbing you.”

“I . . . I do not know what you mean.” She tried to avoid his gaze, but the earl seemed to possess a mysterious enchantment that rendered her incapable of acting on her own will.

His thumb moved along her jaw, lightly, yet increasing the hold he had over her. “Tell me, my dear. I am not so conceited that I believe you are concerned what other people might think of me if I take you to wife.”

Those hateful tears sprang up in her eyes again. She must tell him. Why, she did not know. “I have learned the truth about you.”

A wall of coldness slammed down between them, turning Blake's features into a mask of indifference. “Have you? Please, share it with me.”

He withdrew his hand, and though he did not move away Nicki felt a sense of alienation.

She brushed her cheek where his hand had touched her. “Angelica told me that it was you who ruined my father financially.”

“Is that all?”

She stiffened her spine. “So why did you allow me to humiliate myself in your bedchamber . . . ”

“Which time?”

“You know very well which time! The night I asked you to reconsider your rejection of Melton's offer. The night you listened to my story of woe because our family had been ruined!”

He leaned back against the rough boards of the feed room and lifted one knee to rest his arm upon, though his intense stare did not once leave her face. So casual. Was there no situation in which he did not hold the upper hand? Nicki squirmed on the hay, glanced over at the wood stove, then at the tidy array of horse grooming utensils hanging from pegs driven into the wall.

“So offended pride was your true reason for wanting out of the marriage. I see the way much more clearly now.”

Nicki swung her gaze on him as hot anger surged through her. “Pride? You hate my family so much that you would take from them everything they have and you say I am proud?”

A flash of emotion crossed his silver gaze, then quickly disappeared. “I am not marrying your family, Nicole.”

“Yet you know how much I care for them. Will destroying me be your final blow? Is that what I have to look forward to?”

He reached out to touch her cheek, but Nicki jerked away from him, though she continued to watch him steadily. He shrugged and dropped his hand.

“I never intended to hurt you. By marrying me I hoped to give you financial stability, children to keep you occupied and to continue my family lines—with no foolish emotional requirements. I intended to protect you.”

The words were sincere. Nicki closed her mouth, which had dropped open in amazement. The cold, businesslike arrangement he outlined seemed entirely appropriate to him. “And love would be one of those foolish emotional—what did you call them—requirements?”

“Love is most certainly at the top of the list.”

She nodded, scooting forward just enough so that she could turn her body toward him. “Have you never been in love then, my lord? Or did you love someone who broke your heart?”

He remained silent for so long Nicki wondered if he had heard her. Then he spoke. “What is love, my dear, but weakness. Do you see any weakness in me?”

No. She could not. He hid his emotions quite skillfully behind that facade. But much lay beneath the surface, if one could ever find the chink in his armor. “I see no weakness. But I do see loneliness.”

Blake laughed. “You are an original, Nicole, I will grant you that.”

Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to dry them. Blake handed her a starched kerchief. She knew the subject was ended as far as the earl was concerned, but he did not yet realize Nicki's tenacity.

Nicki sniffed. “I cannot fathom what is causing me to carry on so.” She used the kerchief to dab at the moisture beneath her eyes. “I promise you I normally refrain from hysterical outbursts. Perhaps I am merely overset by the events of the past few days.” Her face sufficiently dried, Nicki blew her nose, wadded up the linen, and held it out to the earl.

Blake took his handkerchief carefully, then folded it into a more tidy bundle before slipping it into the inner pocket of his jacket. “That is certainly understandable. I have not quite been myself either. We are faced with a wedding in just a few short weeks. Marriage is difficult in the best of circumstances, and we are making a rocky start—but I believe we shall suit each other. I cannot promise to be the most agreeable person to live with, though I will make an effort.”

The simple speech brought tears rushing back to her eyes. She knew the earl was doing his best to be nice, but in doing so he intended to snuff out her dream of marrying for love. Blake brought forth the crumpled kerchief once again. Nicki took it and snuffled loudly into the scented folds.

It was no more than she deserved, to be chained to a man she did not love and who would most likely scarcely tolerate her when he knew her better. It had been entirely too selfish to attempt to fob poor Mina off on Blake when it was Nicki who had caused this chaos to begin with.

“Thank . . . you.”

Blake took the linen from her clumsy fingers once again. He lifted her chin. His expression became stern with concentration as he gently dabbed at her cheeks, then held the cloth to her nose while she blew. It was an intimate gesture, and comforting, almost like something Teddy would have done.

He finished and tipped her face up to his to examine his handiwork. “There, now, I believe the rain has stopped.” Nicki smiled shyly at him. “And the sun has come out.”

She laughed. “I truly cannot imagine why Mina is so afraid of you. For all your bluster, you can be devilishly charming.”

The lightness left his face and his gaze turned to ice. “Do not be so sure. By marrying me, you may find yourself in a nightmare you will not awaken from.”

“Then why can you not forget this entire matter? Return to America or to London, wherever it is you must go. You can say that I cried off.”

“You are no longer a child to be chastised and sent on your way. When you came to my room that night, you made a choice. As a woman, you must accept the repercussions.”

Nicki sighed and dropped her gaze to her lap. She plucked at the pieces of hay clinging to the fabric and dropped them to the floor. “Your sense of honor certainly runs deep, my lord.”

Blake stood, holding out his hand to her. “You cannot accuse me of possessing that reprehensible trait. I simply refuse to give London any further ammunition for their gossip. By marrying you, I will halt any rumors, and I will also efficiently dispense with the husband hunting females of London Society.”

His hand enveloped hers in a grip that possessed, even as it remained gentle. Nicki allowed him to pull her to her feet until she stood within inches of his impeccably tailored coat. Her gaze followed the fabric upward from his striped vest to the dark cravat, his wide bronze neck, strong chin, and unsmiling mouth. She recalled the feel of those lips upon hers the night before and a flame flickered to life, infiltrating her body until it consumed her. Should she lean toward him? Blake drew her close with his free arm and their hands, still intertwined, were crushed between their bodies. Nicki tilted her head back. The earl needed no further encouragement.

As Nicki waited for the touch of his mouth, her body tingled in anticipation of the magic his kiss contained. When his lips brushed hers, she kept her eyes open in order to study the enigma of this man. Dark lashes brushed his tanned cheeks, a lock of coal hair dropped in reckless abandon over a finely made forehead. How could a man whose face was sculpted in such harsh lines touch her with so much tenderness? His lips moved like silk over hers, gently cajoling a response she eagerly provided.

Blake stiffened and drew back slightly, opening his eyes. “Is there a problem?”

She sighed ecstatically. “Oh, no. Certainly not.”

“I am not accustomed to such an examination.”

She smiled at his consternation. “I'm merely curious.”

Blake's cheeks darkened and he scowled. “Oh?”

“Yes. I had always thought kissing to be a messy, intrusive act and guaranteed to spread all types of illnesses. But with you, I truly see why it is such a popular pastime. You are quite accomplished.”