Heart of the Diamond (21 page)

Her father's initial reaction to Blake had been to call him a fiend from hell. Teddy's reaction was much the same. Something had happened between Blake and her father to drive the earl to ruin their family, but she knew her father and could not imagine anything that would cause someone to hate him so. How could she marry the Earl of Diamond when he had already alienated the two most important men in her life?

A soft knock sounded. Nicki turned at the sound. “Come in.”

With a slight rattle of the knob and a sigh, the door swung open and Angelica entered the room. “You were late coming down. I came to see if there was a problem.”

Nicki quickly masked her surprise and shook her head in denial. “I merely lost track of the time.”

Angelica wore a gown of forest green that turned her eyes to the hue of emeralds. That glittering gaze took in Nicki's appearance in one swift movement. “So you were informed the earl will not be at dinner tonight?”

“Teddy and I happened upon him on the road today and he said he had a prior engagement. Perhaps he has lost interest in me and will return to America,” she sighed, “and leave us in peace.”

“Peace—in this household? That is some vague ideal I have not found since marrying your father. But I have found something much more precious than peace. I have found love.”

Nicki faced the window again. “Then you are lucky.”

With a murmur of silk, Angelica came to lean against the window casement opposite Nicki. Her fingers traced the scuffed paint on the lower sill. “I am concerned for you, Nicole. Since your father made the marital arrangement with the Duke of Melton you have behaved quite irrationally. Now I fear you are in a situation of your own making and you are at a loss as to how to extricate yourself from it.”

“As you said, it is
my
situation. I shall deal with it, have no worry.”

“Nicole, I have watched you grow from a child who was small and fragile for her age into a beautiful young woman. Your behavior has concerned me because I feared you would be hurt. I think you always felt I was attacking you, but—”

A harsh laugh escaped Nicki's lips. “You never attack, Angelica. No, you are much too subtle for direct assault. It suits you much better to issue painful barbs and disdainful remarks that cut much deeper than any open honest criticism.”

“It seems we are both guilty of that. The more I tried to be your mother, the more you withdrew into rebellion.”

“I never asked you to be my mother, Angelica.” The words felt as though Nicki had ripped them from her throat.

“Of course not, I meant only that—”

Abruptly, Nicki pushed from the window. “Let it rest. Soon I shall be out of this house and out of your life. We do not need to hash over the past at this point.”

Angelica straightened. “Very well. I merely wanted to make you aware that I do care what happens to you, Nicole. No matter what you believe or what I have led you to believe, I care—deeply.”

As she stood to face her stepmother with her hands squeezed into fists at her side, tears burned behind Nicki's eyes. Stubbornly she banished them. “Did Papa send you?”

“No. Your father has been blissfully ignorant of the true extent of your animosity for me.”

Nicki clutched her skirts to hide the sudden trembling of her hands. “Be content with your conquest of Mina. I was older and not so naive.”

“Nicole, please . . . ”

“Stop! I prefer our hostile silence to this.”

Angelica stepped closer, hand outstretched, but Nicki backed away. “I want to help you. I know how you suffer from the indecision. Perhaps if you talked it out with someone older . . . ”

Nicki bumped into the Hepplewhite dresser, barring further retreat. She turned around to lean against the wood. The handles dug into her thighs. Her breath came in harsh gasps. Marguerite's white face danced before her eyes, terrifying and horrible because it was a mask of death and hopelessness. She drew in a steadying breath.

“Mina has always needed you and you were there for her. I am grateful to you for that. But you and I—we are a chapter that was closed before it began. Leave it at that.”

“I have never understood your hatred, Nicole.”

Nicki closed her eyes. She dismissed the visions and summoned the screen that protected her from the madness that dwelt with the nightmarish memories. “The others will wonder what we have been up to.” Nicki looked up to meet Angelica's gaze in the small mirror that stood on the dresser.

With the slight squaring of her shoulders, Angelica's control was restored. “Simms was searching for you. He had a message from Andrew.”

Nicki nodded. A sigh, then a thud as the door closed. Blessed silence. Trembling, Nicki stumbled to her dressing table and dropped onto the stool. The last thing she wanted to deal with now was a kinder, more sympathetic Angelica. Best to leave their relationship as it stood than to delve into the emotions secreted deep in the recesses of her heart.

Better to think of something else.

Andrew's message. That meant a late night call to the stables. But first, she must get through the evening. That should be easy with Blake spending his time at Rosewood.

Blake turned page after page of the first journal provided to him by Samuel. He made several notes on a sheet positioned on his desk next to the books. After making his way through nearly half, he paused and set the pen down.

Samuel sat up in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. “M’da taught me. I can't say I ever spent a day in a schoolroom. But th’ figures, they're complete.”

“There you go jumping to the defensive before you have been attacked. These books are impressive, Samuel. I do not think there is much I would change.”

Samuel reached down to touch the wooden chest at his feet, obviously to reassure himself it had not disappeared in the few moments since he had last checked. “Yer money's here, m'lord. Every last copper matches the ledgers.”

“I have no doubt. You have been running the farms for quite some time, and I would like you to explain to me all that you do. One change I would make is that from this point you should deposit the rents into an account I have arranged for that purpose. All you must do is complete the forms and Chester will see that the money arrives at the bank in London.”

The young man took the bankbook tentatively. “I . . . I ‘aven't th’ first notion—I never set eyes on a bank.”

“That is the purpose of our meeting. I will answer your questions and you shall answer mine. We will learn together.”

Understanding dawned, and Samuel leaned forward. “It'd be an ‘onor t’ learn from ye, sir.”

“My father taught me a great deal, just as yours taught you. Let us draw on their wisdom and perhaps find a little of our own as well.”

“There was ideas me da had tha’ Sir Randolph wouldn't ‘ear of, an’ I think they was good ones. Master Ted never wanted nothin’ to do with farmin’, bein’ partial to th’ city.”

Blake leaned back in his chair, rested his elbows on the padded arms and watched Samuel over his tented fingers. “Ah, the city. I think the world turns faster in town and all the people must rush about to keep from falling off and being left behind. It is great fun for a time, but one must return to the country to slow down and reflect, and get down to what life is truly about.”

“Da took me to London once. It's a terrifyin’ thing, all them folk. A body could be crushed an’ no one'd pay any mind.”

“If they stop, they might be run over by someone else. Self-preservation demands constant movement.”

“It doesn't seem ye like the city much yerself.”

Blake shook his head. “London is a necessary evil, Samuel, but one I shall be blissfully free of for at least several weeks. You may have to deal with my solicitor in London but that can be done through the post.” He pushed several journals aside and pulled a sheet of paper from beneath a stack of books. “This is his name and address.”

Samuel stood to retrieve the folded page, then took his seat again and tucked the address carefully inside the bank book. He remained obviously ill at ease. “Ye're a trusting soul, m'lord.”

Blake returned the open journal to the stack before him. “You are mistaken, I assure you. If you had not already proven your worth by your actions over the past few years we would not be sitting here now discussing your future in my employ. You would most assuredly be packing your belongings.”

“I hope I can continue t’be of value t'ye, sir.”

Blake kept leafing through the journal pages. “That is up to you.”

“I'd be askin’ a favor of ye, sir, of sorts . . . ”

Glancing up, Blake saw crimson stained the man's face. Casually, he returned his gaze to the pages before him. “You may ask.”

Samuel swallowed audibly. “M'daughter, sir. She's just turned fourteen—and she's a gem in the kitchen.”

Blake rubbed his chin absently, to give the impression the books thoroughly absorbed his attention. “Chester is continuing with interviews for potential staff members in the morning. Have your girl come around at ten o'clock. I will inform Chester to expect her.”

“Thank ye, sir. She's a good girl, an’ bright. The wife an’ me, we teaches all the little ‘uns to read and write.”

“That is very wise, Samuel. I see here that each farm is tallied separately. Why is this farm such a high producer?”

Samuel stood and came around the desk, the last vestiges of misgiving gone. Blake stifled a smile of satisfaction. He rather liked playing lord of the manor. Perhaps there was more of his father in him than he had thought.

Nicki eased her bedroom window open and slipped out. Maneuvering through the tree limbs with experienced ease, she dropped to the ground moments later. Damp leaves and twigs crunched beneath her feet as she hurried through the darkness, around the edge of the house to the graveled pathway that lead to the cobbled courtyard and the stables.

Immediately upon entering the long building that housed the Langley champion Thoroughbred horses, the familiar, comforting scents of straw and leather surrounded her, enveloped her. A lantern hung on a long nail outside the entrance to one of the stalls. Its light cast shadows on the dark openings of the other compartments. Nicki retrieved an apron from a peg on the wall outside the feed room and donned it as she hurried to reach the lighted stall.

Just as she knew he would be, Andrew, the senior stable hand, knelt in the straw next to Aphrodite, his dark head bent close to the mare's. Nicki heard the soothing murmur of his deep voice and paused, peering over the bottom section of the half-door.

“I knew ye'd come,” said Andrew without looking up.

“Of course I came. How is she?”

He stroked the mare's sleek white neck tenderly, then stood. “She's doin’ just grand, m'lady. She'll give us a fine little beauty afore mornin’.”

Nicki released the latch and slipped inside. Aphrodite nickered softly at her approach. “There's my girl.”

As she dropped to her knees in the straw, the mare lifted her head and moved to rest it on Nicki's pooled skirts. With a catch in her throat, Nicki placed her hand on the delicately arched neck. Aphrodite was their prize mare, and Nicki's favorite. Two years before, the mare had given them Zeus, a coal-black colt who lived up to his exalted name to become king of the stables. 

Andrew leaned back in the corner of the stall, arms crossed over his narrow chest. His weathered face was like a saddle that had never been oiled or cared for. Nicki met his obsidian gaze. “Thank you for sending the message.”

He acknowledged her words with the briefest movement of his head. “It calms ‘er ta ‘ave ye ‘ere.”

Nicki returned her attention to Aphrodite. Angelica would most likely swoon dead away if she knew Andrew summoned Nicki for every birth in the stables, but the reward far outweighed the risk. She agreed with Andrew. Her presence seemed to relax the horses and make the birthing process easier. Would she be here in the spring for the birth of Diana's, another mare's, first foal? Nicki banished the thought swiftly. Aphrodite needed her now. She dared not think of the future.

Just then a sharp crack sounded in the stall next to them. Nicki started before she realized the cause of the noise. “Stop that this instant, Hera! If you would ever leave off biting the stallions perhaps you could have some of this attention!”

An answering whinny from behind the wall brought a giggle from Nicki and a quick grunt of amusement from Andrew. “Minx,” he grumbled tenderly.

“Does she still chase Achilles?”

“Sure ‘n she cornered ‘im down by the creek this mornin’. He ain't been no good to none o’ the others since she's been pesterin’ ‘im.”

Nicki ran her hand along Aphrodite's smooth white neck. “I think she likes him.”

“Well ‘e don’ like ‘er none, long as all she does is trap ‘im so's she ken take a bite out o’ ‘im.”

Nicki laughed. “Maybe she wants him to stop being such a gentleman.”

“Mayhap she does. If she keeps up ‘er tormentin’, she'll git ‘er wish.”

A sudden realization struck Nicki—perhaps her own situation resembled Hera's a little too closely. She had thought dinner would be a pleasant affair without the earl, but she could not help but compare the rather mundane game of whist to the boisterous fun of the evening before in the music room.

If she had not received Andrew's message, she might now be climbing up the side of Rosewood to the earl's bedchamber to hand him a royal dressing down for avoiding her. She would also have demanded that he release her from the engagement if he was as uninterested as he seemed. Reflecting on the speech she had practiced in her mind at dinner, she thought it probably best she was here in the stables. Blake Dylan did not seem the type to be much affected by irate females, and Nicki preferred to see the results when she roasted a person.

Deuce take it, why could she not face the truth? She missed the devil. And it hurt that he did not seem to feel the same. It hurt deeply. Throughout the evening, Teddy had watched her with concern evident in his gaze. Let him watch. His solution was preposterous and Nicki refused to consider it. Run away, indeed. She had never run from anything in her life—except perhaps the engagement to the Duke of Melton. But that was different.