Heart of the Diamond (24 page)

“I realize you must be exhausted, Aunt, but would you mind terribly greeting them all and bringing them into the house? I shall inform Angelica of your arrival.”

“Of course, dearling. You can depend on me.”

Nicki nodded and with one last glance at the chaos, rushed toward the front of the house. She had just twisted the front door latch when Blake's voice brought her up short.

“Have you forgotten your handsome marital catch so quickly?”

She turned to him, slightly irritated. “Did you have something to do with this?”

He touched his chest in mock chagrin. “Me? I merely followed your father's wishes by inviting his immediate family. I am as baffled as you are by the appearance of what appears to be all of London, my dear.”

Nicki fought the waves of panic threatening to engulf her. She had thought to have time to convince Blake not to go through with the wedding, but how could she plead her case when guests were arriving in droves? “But who could have done such a thing?”

Blake's expression turned grim. “If you will excuse me, Nicole, I believe I shall leave you to settle your guests. I have a strong suspicion that I may have a similar fiasco taking place at Rosewood.”

“You know something. Tell me.”

With a bow, he backed down the stairs. “All in good time, my dear.”

Blake surveyed Rosewood's empty courtyard with relief. Perhaps Angelica or Jonathon had sent out additional letters, though he could not imagine them doing so when they knew Blake had forwarded their brief list to his aunt. The word ‘invitation’ gave him pause. It spoke of formality versus a simple letter requesting the presence of relatives.

A wide-eyed boy darted from the stable entrance to slide to a halt near Blake and wait for him to dismount. After handing over the reins, he ruffled the lad's mop of brown curls before heading around to the front of the house. His stomach could do with a bite to eat now that he was certain his own residence had not been set upon in his absence.

He heard a low, incessant hum as he came up onto the porch. The sound increased when he opened the door. As Blake paused in the doorway, a sudden pain shot through his head. The noise came from the mouths of more than fifty people crowded into his foyer.

There, turning this way and that like a cork adrift in a tumultuous sea, bobbed Chester, and just behind him a woman extricated herself from the midst to advance on Blake. He slammed the door and leaned back against the wood.

“Darling nephew. I had hoped my letter would arrive before us, but apparently it did not.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Blake forced his temper under control. “Aunt Sophia. I had just decided you were not at the root of this scheme, and here you are to prove me wrong.”

She fluttered her long sooty lashes, but the gesture did not soften her glacial grey eyes. “You have nothing to worry about, Blake. There was some confusion and the coach bearing the seamstresses and fabrics came here. I sent them on to the Langley residence with one of your stable lads.”

“So you did follow
one
of my instructions.”

His aunt slipped her finely boned hand into the crook of his arm and pulled him away from the door. “I knew you must have intended that I arrange the remainder of the details, since you had given me the task of procuring the finest dressmaker, as well as convincing that horrid man to issue a special license. This is just too romantic, Blake. Another Earl of Diamond making a love match! It was just too rich to keep quiet.”

“I trusted you to try.”

Sophia slanted him an amused glance. “Really, Blake, is it so upsetting to you that your family wished to be present upon such a joyous occasion?”

He gave the faces of the crowd a cursory glance. “I do not recognize half these people, and certainly do not recall being related to them.”

“But you have been out of the country for six long years. Harry! Harry, over here. Look, it is your cousin.”

A tall slender man separated himself from several other brightly dressed gentlemen. Blake recognized the petulant expression beneath those tight black curls instantly. No matter that the boy had become a man—that pout would remain ever unchanged. He met the hostile gaze squarely, aware that his own must appear equally wary.

Harry held out his hand. “Blake. By God, you've changed. I thought Uncle Barrett had risen from the grave.”

Taking his cousin's hand, Blake was surprised to find the grip nearly harsh. “Harry. Full of compliments, as usual. Speaking of fathers, where is yours hiding?”

Harry withdrew his hand abruptly. “Father had to stay behind in London. He's got some business dealings going on and dared not leave at such a delicate point in the negotiations.”

“Then I am certain I shall see him before long, hand outstretched.”

Sophia interjected herself physically between the two men. “Really, Blake, you not only look like Barrett, but you've adopted his cruelty. I had hoped such unkindness behind me with my brother's passing.”

Blake glanced down into his aunt's upturned face, and saw a pleading in her eyes. He sighed. “I apologize to you both. My comment was uncalled for. Perhaps I am merely overset by the appearance of unexpected guests.”

She looked away in apparent distraction. “Your butler . . . Chester is it? He is an absolute gem. He has assigned rooms and dispatched luggage with amazing efficiency.”

“Chester is the one thing in Rosewood I have not been disappointed in.”

Sophia's glance centered on a woman standing just outside the room. “Ah, that must be the cook. Excuse me while I meet with her regarding the meals. I brought Jacques and several undercooks because I had a feeling you had not brought your own staff with you. Harry, introduce Blake to your wife . . . and your friends. Shall we meet in your library at two o'clock, nephew, to discuss the entertainment?”

“Entertainment? Of course, Sophia. I look forward to learning about all your plans.”

With an absent smile, she was off, the crowd parting before her elegant figure like waves split by a ship's hull. Blake returned his attention to his cousin. The pout had returned, and he realized he preferred open hostility to this sulking overgrown boy.

Harry caught his look and straightened proudly. “I know what you think of me and my family. I'll introduce you to my wife, but I won't have her feelings hurt. She's not used to your kind. There's not a mean bone in her body.”

So his cousin thought he would frighten his prim and proper little wife? Blake nodded brusquely, experiencing an unfamiliar twinge of guilt that he had given such a poor impression. “Contrary to your beliefs, I can be quite charming when it suits me.”

“Yes, well, so can a cobra, but I'd just as soon not snuggle up next to one.”

“Blake Dylan! Or should I say, Lord Diamond?”

With a quick turn, Blake met a set of beguiling brown eyes. “Jane. What on earth possessed you to come to the country?”

The stately brunette linked her arm through Harry's. “I am married to your cousin, you scoundrel, and family events are more important than the same old social happenings. Besides, you know very well London is quiet until March when Parliament convenes.”

“How could I forget, dear Jane. When did you and Harry wed?”

She glanced at his cousin, her face nearly level with Harry's. The softness that entered her features surprised Blake, for he had known Jane Olson to be a shameless flirt, never showing a preference for any one man.

Apparently that had changed.

“We were married four years ago. I never imagined marriage could be so wonderful. Love can change your entire life, but I don't have to tell you that. I am so happy for you, and I cannot wait to meet the girl who brings Blake Dylan to the altar.”

Thinking of Nicole's bright gaze, Blake smiled. “She is an original, Jane. The two of you should get on very well.”

“I beg your pardon, sir, but might I interrupt you for a moment?” Chester bowed toward Harry and Jane, his color unusually high.

Harry tucked his wife's hand more firmly in the crook of his arm. “We'll talk further after Jane has had a chance to rest, Blake.”

The couple climbed the ornate staircase, their heads close together in conversation. The sight made him think about Nicole. The top of her head barely reached Blake's shoulder, forcing him to bend to reach her level. Somehow, the thought did not seem so unpleasant.

He turned to the butler. “What is it, Chester?”

The Butler's stance had relaxed slightly from its usual rigidity, revealing his weariness. “It seems there are two gentlemen left over after the rooms have been distributed, and they insist they will not share quarters with anyone. The other guests have retired to their rooms. I . . . I apologize, my lord, that I failed in this regard.”

Blake glanced over Chester's shoulder to two men leaning negligently against the carved balustrade of the grand staircase. He studied them for a brief moment, then with a grin stepped around the butler. “I can take care of these two scalawags. I think we have room in the stables.”

Laughing, the pair pushed themselves from the support and advanced on their host. Curls the color of honey were skillfully arranged in the windswept style made popular by Napoleon. Laughing sets of hazel eyes—it was like looking at a double image. “Carlton, Percy, where in God's name did Aunt Sophia dredge up the two of you?”

The three clasped hands in turn. Carlton, ever the spokesman for the twins, clapped Blake on the shoulder. “She found us at a small soiree. We've become deucedly respectable, y'know. As the pickings were slim in town, we agreed to accompany Lady Ransom to what promises to be a very entertaining wedding.”

“Still hunting wives? I would have thought by being so respectable you would have found someone suitable by now.”

“It's damned difficult finding two women enough alike to suit the pair of us,” Percy offered.

Blake shook his head in disbelief. “Did it ever occur to either of you that one can marry without the other's approval? It seems we have much to discuss. Perhaps you will not feel slighted if you are invited to share the host's sleeping chambers?”

“Wouldn't want to crowd you, being a bridegroom and all,” Carl's grin disputed his apparent concern.

An almost irresistible urge to shove Carlton, as he had done when they were younger, came over Blake before he regained stiff control. They were now men full grown. “I shall have two cots set up. Follow me. You can rest on my bed until Chester is able to make the arrangements. Damn, it's good to see the two of you again. Perhaps I will not wring my aunt's neck after all.”

As Blake motioned his friends upstairs and followed, he mentally made plans to immediately visit the stables. While watching Nicole this morning with her horses—the glow of pride shining in her eyes—he had come to a decision. He would have the dilapidated stables of Rosewood remodeled to the specifications of those at Langley Hall as a wedding gift for his bride.

They reached the landing and Blake smiled at some comment Percy made. He lead the way to his bedchamber as his thoughts returned to enact the scene certain to occur when he surprised Nicole with her very own stables. It pleased him to imagine he could make her happy.

But that would not be for a few more weeks, and he had a great deal to do if the work was to be completed in time. First, he would dispatch the head groomsman to Langley Hall to get an idea of the design.

He opened the door to his bedchamber, holding it wide for the twins to enter. Then he reached into the pocket of his jacket and removed his watch to consult the time. Of course! The groom could say he had been sent to locate the earl's lost watch.

“If you two will excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”

Percy paused just inside the door and surveyed the room with cool disdain. Following his gaze, Blake noticed threadbare carpet, cracks in the plaster, peeling paint—details he had not been concerned with before.

With a shrug, Percy went to the bed and spread himself out atop the faded emerald coverlet. “You attend to your business. We must get our beauty sleep before the ball tonight.”

“Ball?” Blake remembered nothing about a ball, but then he had not been made privy to Sophia's plans as yet.

“Yes, the ball. Your aunt brought along a small assemblage of wonderful musicians and sent them on to Langley Hall—for the ball.”

Blake shook his head in awed admiration of Sophia's efficiency—at causing trouble. “The Duchess of Billington certainly has her work cut out for her. I only hope I can find my intended amongst the crush.”

Carlton joined his brother on the huge bed. “If you cannot—we'll take good care of her.”

Stepping back to the doorway, Blake cast a threatening glance. “You
do
recall I am an excellent shot?”

The elder twin maintained a somber mien, though his dark eyes sparkled with deviltry. “And you are skilled at fencing, boxing, and street brawling. I merely meant we would do everything possible to speed the girl on her way to you.”

“That is what I thought you meant. Rest well, gentlemen.” Blake stepped into the hall and closed the door.

He paused, listening to the drone of voices. The house might have been invaded by swarms of bees—large bees thumping about like a brigade of warhorses.

Blake recalled Nicole's panic-stricken face as she rushed to inform her stepmother of the arrival of guests. He hoped she fared well. The thought that she might get into trouble because he had foolishly trusted his aunt did not set well. He would have protected Nicole from a den of wolves, if necessary, but he sensed Angelica could be much more dangerous.

After announcing to Angelica the arrival of what appeared to be half the town of London, Nicki played the coward and retired to her room where she huddled in her cloak before the window.

Blake said her father had provided him with a list, but Nicki knew by Angelica's stunned expression that her stepmother had nothing to do with arranging for the deluge of wedding guests. The answers obviously lay with the Earl of Diamond, and prying information from him was like avoiding a blackmail from Shelby.