Heart of the Diamond (25 page)

If she listened carefully, she could hear the commotion in the downstairs foyer—a scene so similar to her mother's funeral, yet with an ambiance of joy rather than mourning. If only she shared the enthusiasm.

After all, it was her wedding.

Nicki leaned against the window frame and touched her fingers to the cold glass. How would the guests react if they learned she had brought about her own engagement by a foolish action no responsible, respectable young woman would have dared? Not even Teddy knew the truth. It hurt to keep anything from him when she never had in the past, but this she must.

Somewhere below her window, Nicki heard the excited neighing of a horse and recalled the fiasco in the barn earlier. Obviously, Teddy must have still been over-taxed from his journey or he would never have been so sour when the whole incident had actually been quite amusing. She smiled. And that rogue Blake Dylan . . .  He had certainly not helped matters by goading Nicki into laughing at Teddy.

Still, if she were honest with herself, she would admit that if Blake would let go of his reserve more often, she could easily fall under his spell. She only hoped he did not discern that fact. He was much too difficult to resist as it was.

Who did she think she was fooling? From the moment he first touched her, she had been like a fly firmly trapped in a spider's silken web.

Nicki clutched at the maroon velvet of her riding skirt, wondering how she had come to such a pass. Her mind had simply become clouded by the earl's charm.

The branches of the tree outside bent and swayed slightly in the wind. What she needed was a quick ride over the fields with that same wind in her face, so the crispness of the air could chase away the clouds of confusion fogging her common sense. Yes. Most certainly a horseback ride.

The decision made, Nicki raised the window and slipped out. Moments later, and thankfully unnoticed, she entered the stables to find Tamm brushing down a long-legged chestnut gelding.

Tamm nodded a silent greeting.

“I have decided to take a quick ride, Tamm. Would you saddle Achilles for me?”

Tamm set the grooming brush aside on a nearby shelf. “Achilles be in a temper on account o’ Hera, m'lady, an’ all the strange ‘orses arrivin’. Zeus, though, ‘e's been an angel.”

Nicki sidestepped around the chestnut, careful not to get close to its back feet since she did not know the horse or its temperament. “Zeus will be fine.”

As the young man hurried away to find and saddle the stallion, Nicki retrieved a spare set of riding gloves from over the wash stand. She pulled the supple leather over her fingers, then realized she had left the house without a bonnet. That meant she would most certainly have to avoid being seen by the guests upon her return.

From the opposite end of the stables she heard the sound of one of the outer stall doors creaking open. Nicki hurried down the long aisle to the last opening on the right. She paused at the half-door of Zeus's cubicle and watched as Tamm settled the saddle into place over a dark blanket, then tightened the cinches.

“Thank you, Tamm,” she said as she flipped the latch and stepped into the stall with a whisper of her velvet skirts against the fresh straw.

Tamm stroked Zeus's sleek black neck, and Nicki was startled to see the boy's cheeks turn as red as ripe strawberries. “You'll be needin’ a groom to ride with ye, then?”

That brought her up short. “Whatever for, when we've all these extra animals to tend to?”

His mouth tightened. “There's lots of strangers . . . ”

“Who are mostly family. Besides, they are in the house.” Nicki went to the corner of the cubicle and picked up a step stool, which she carried over to place beneath the stirrup.

She met Tamm's gaze squarely, and held out her hand for him to take while she climbed the ladder and mounted. He looked up at her, concern etched into his features. “Be careful, m'lady. It'll be dark soon, an’ a storm's brewin’.”

“I will be back before you know it.”

Nicki settled her skirts, positioned her right leg securely over the horn, then pressed her heels into Zeus' side and turned him to leave through the doorframe that led to the field outside.

For a short time she held the horse to a walk, keeping parallel to the fence line that separated the mares from the stallions. When Hera made an appearance, Nicki stopped to pet her over the fence rather than risk the mare chasing after them in irritation. Soon Hera had her fill and trotted back in the direction of the stables.

Grey skies glowered down but held the rain firmly in check. Zeus cantered across the soggy fields headed for a stand of trees in the distance. A flock of birds fluttered into flight only a stride ahead of them.

Experiencing a twinge of envy, she leaned low over Zeus’ powerful neck. With a single command and the slightest pressure of her heels he surged forward. The wind struck her face with stinging fingers of ice, causing her eyes to tear. But for an instant she felt as though she could join those birds in the sky to fly away from the tangled snarl she had made of her life and cling to the freedom of the open skies.

Zeus’ great strides ate up the distance quickly. In moments, the trees of the small wood loomed near. Instead of slowing the horse to enter the woods, Nicki turned him to run along the forest edge. The feel of the powerful animal, the thud of his hooves against the ground, and the sweet winter breeze in her face—it was just what she had needed.

Before she knew it, Nicki passed close to Rosewood, but she refused to spare a glance for the brooding structure and outbuildings. She had come out to forget the earl.

So she urged Zeus on, across the rolling fields, leaping low stone fences and narrow creeks.

The hem of her skirts became soaked and spattered with mud, but Nicki's exhilaration could not be dampened. She would go to her secret place—the castle that had listened to her dreams from childhood.

There she would find the answers she sought—without the presence of the Earl of Diamond to distract her.

Blake left the dark Rosewood stables satisfied he had sufficiently relayed his plans to the young stable hand. Owen Carson had his hands full with a stable of new workers and more vehicles and animals than Rosewood had room for. But he agreed to send a lad on Blake's errand at once.

Blake glanced up at the clouds growing heavy with pent up rain. The thought of returning to the house did not appeal to him. There were too many people there.

From the corner of his eye, Blake saw movement. When he turned his head he saw a flash of color so far away he could scarcely make out the shape of a horse and rider dashing recklessly across the low green grass of the meadow.

He tensed, and squinted his eyes. The garment the rider wore appeared to be the same shade of riding dress Nicole was wearing earlier. Surely she would not be charging about the countryside so soon after the arrival of guests.

Of course she would.

Already the pair slipped over the rise out of sight, headed north. Blake turned on his heel and strode back into the stables, not pausing to consider the wisdom of his actions. All he could think of, all he desired at this moment, was over the hill.

The men and boys taking care of the animals paid him no mind as he moved down the rows of stalls separated by slatted boards, not solid walls like the Langley stables.

He paused before Banbury's enclosure, then changed his mind. Nicole most likely had taken one of those stallions of hers, so he continued down the row and came to a dapple grey gelding he had brought from his father's London stables.

At this end of the barn, away from the busy activity, the horses had more peace and quiet. Tarnish, obviously so dubbed because of the patches of black on his muzzle and legs, whickered softly in greeting as Blake entered the pen and grabbed his halter.

Blake returned to the tack room with Tarnish in tow. He heard Banbury stomping and pawing at the dirt floor but he had no time to sooth hurt feelings. He meant to catch up to Nicole, and she already had a good head start.

It took only a moment to replace the halter with a bridle and saddle the horse. Blake led Tarnish into the corral, mounted and rode north. Leaning forward slightly, Blake balanced himself against the jarring as the horse's hooves pummeled the ground. What if he chased not Nicole but one of his neighbors he had not yet met?

He would certainly look the fool charging after them without hat, cloak, or gloves. But he had already surrendered to the fact that his behavior took an odd turn where Nicole was concerned.

As the horse topped the rise, Blake quickly scanned the expanse of countryside from the wooded area to the left, then back again toward the first of a series of hills. He saw her at the foot of the next rise. Not too far. He urged Tarnish on and the horse gladly complied, true to his Thoroughbred heritage.

Any doubt he may have had as to the identity of the rider disappeared long before Blake drew near enough to get a good look. Only Nicole Langley would give herself up to the wild exhilaration of such a reckless dash across damp fields.

He gained ground on her until he could see the gilded brightness of her hair escaping its pins to cascade down her back to reach her trim waist. That hair belonged down and spilling about her—about him when he swept her into his arms.

Their mounts were finally within yards of one another. Though Blake knew she could not have heard his approach, Nicole looked back. For the briefest instant her eyes widened as though in fear. Once again Blake experienced a tightening in his chest—he had no desire for her fright. His body craved a more friendly emotion. Quickly, she faced forward again, and did not slow her horse.

He brought Tarnish abreast of the black stallion, and waited for Nicole to acknowledge his presence. She continued to stare ahead. Blake thought with amazement that she intended to ignore him, as though he would go away.

Then she flashed a green-eyed glare in his direction. “Are you spying on me?” She shouted over the thundering hoof beats and the cry of the wind.

He grinned, and raised his voice. “A novel idea, but rather too easy since you continuously show up wherever I am.”

With a swift movement, Nicole drew back on the reins and brought her horse to a skidding halt. Blake had to react just as swiftly. He backed his horse up to hers.

“I most certainly do not follow you about!”

“You passed by Rosewood only moments ago. I am certain you signaled to me.”

Cheeks flaming, she slashed him once again with those incredible eyes of hers. “I came out here to be alone. And how could I have signaled to you from more than a mile away?”

Blake looked at the way ahead for a moment, enjoying her irritation immensely. She was a beauty at any time, but no more than when her temper blazed. “Perhaps your horse merely swished his tail.” Beneath Blake, Tarnish stomped and moved nervously, his sides heaving, and mist puffing from his nostrils. Blake looked at Nicole. “My mistake.”

“Do you mean to say you cannot tell my movements from those of my horse? I believe I shall do myself in at once if that is the case!”

Blake laughed. “I did not mean to put you in a rage, Nicole.” He glanced at a pile of large stones about a half-mile ahead. “Race me to that rubble. If you win, I shall go away and leave you to yourself.”

She nibbled at her lower lip, staring at the rocks, suspicious. “And if you win?”

With a shout to Tarnish, Blake dug in his heels and slapped the reins against the gelding's flank. The horse lunged forward. Blake intended to win this race. The prize would entertain them both immensely.

But perhaps she would scorn his challenge. She wanted to be rid of him after all. A sudden heat burned upward from his neck to his face at the mental picture of himself riding away from Nicole while she went just as swiftly in the opposite direction.

He glanced back. There she was, right behind him, and closing fast. With a slight smile, Blake turned and leaned his upper body further over Tarnish's neck, still seeing Nicole's brows drawn together in determination, her lips parted. It was almost as though she whispered sweet words of encouragement to her mount.

She sat a horse side saddle with more confidence and control than many men could sit astride.

From the corner of his eye he saw the muzzle of the stallion. Nicole meant to defeat him. To be rid of him. But she would soon realize he did not like losing—had made it his goal in life over the past six years to be the victor. At any cost.

The finish line lay only twenty paces ahead.

In a maneuver planned to surprise Nicole, Blake tugged the rein gently against the left side of Tarnish's neck, forcing the horse to move toward the stallion. At the same time he dug in his heels.

The shoulder of the black stallion bumped into Blake's leg, then the horse shied away. And slowed. Tarnish's powerful legs drove into the ground, covering the last stretch with lightning speed until Blake pulled back on the reins and the gelding skidded to a halt before the pile of stones. Blake turned to face Nicole's equally sudden stop.

“You cheated!” She snapped before the stallion had regained steady footing.

Blake proudly noted again the ease with which she retained her seat, even as the horse pranced and reared slightly in nervous excitement. He arched a brow. “Whatever do you mean, my dear?”

Obviously disgusted, eyes flashing with suppressed ire, Nicole lifted her leg over the saddle horn and leapt gracefully to the ground. “You rammed my horse, and you bloody well know it!”

“I bloody well never touched your horse,” he said calmly as he dismounted and came to stand before her.

“Let me see your leg. I am certain there must be black hairs on your trousers.”

He could not resist laughing, which further enraged Nicole. “Shall I shuck them first, or would you prefer I merely lift my leg for your review?”

In an effort to appear haughty, Nicole lifted her chin. “Neither. I simply shall not concede you are the victor.”

With that speech, she lifted her skirts and brushed past him. He smiled as he followed her progress with an appreciative eye. She stepped delicately over chunks of debris that littered the ground along the base of giant, moss-covered stones, until she finally turned to her right and disappeared from sight.