Heart of the Diamond (35 page)

“How disappointing.”

“Yes.” Nicki winced as Grampa moved along the curtains, his cane smacking the wall. He appeared concerned when he realized he had moved behind two wingback chairs. With surprising quickness, he leaped forward and shoved the cane beneath the seat of one of the chairs.

The lady seated on the chair let out a startled “Oh!” and threw her feet up into the air. The sudden movement and the lady's generous girth caused the chair to tip backwards, pinning Grampa Giles to the curtained window.

Blake surged forward. Nicki followed close behind. Several people stood about indecisively, but it was Teddy who came forward to attempt to move the chair off Grampa. With the wildly flailing movements of the woman sending the piece of furniture jerking this way and that, he had his hands full.

“Excuse me. Coming through!” Blake quickly moved opposite Teddy and together they lowered the chair to the floor.

Grampa lost his footing, and the cane went crashing to the floor. Blake caught his arm and held on until the man had gained his balance. Nicki rushed forward to retrieve the cane. The eagle's head had broken off. She scrambled close to the chair and reached beneath it to retrieve the silver top.

“This man should be watched more closely, before he harms someone seriously!” Snapped a breathless Teddy.

Nicki quickly got to her feet and pressed her friend's arm warningly. “It was merely a harmless mishap. All is put to rights now.”

“Exactly right,” Blake agreed.

Teddy's face had gone beyond flushed to an alarming red hue. “Giles has become a nuisance. Josey should keep him in his room.”

Her own cheeks growing warm, Nicki glanced uncomfortably toward Grampa Giles. The old man stood very still, his sharp gaze fastened on Teddy. “You are over excited, Teddy, and I think you should be quiet,” Nicki said firmly.

“Over excited! The pair of them nearly went through the window!”

Blake entered the conversation with his normal superciliousness. “But they did not, and I agree with Nicole that it would be wise to shut your mouth.”

“Please!” Nicki positioned herself firmly between Blake and Teddy. “Grampa, your cane is broken. Will you come with me and we shall see if we can repair it?”

Head bowed dejectedly, Grampa waved his hand in what Nicki took to be acquiescence. He leaned heavily on Blake's arm as they started through the room. Nicki glared at Teddy as she passed.

In the hall, Blake nodded toward her father's study. “Is anyone in there?”

She shook her head and led the way. “Grampa, you and Blake wait in here and I will retrieve one of Em's concoctions to repair your cane.”

Blake met Nicki's gaze as he helped the frail old man to the couch. “We shall wait for you here, my dear.”

With a nod, Nicki left the pieces of the broken cane on her father's cluttered desk and hurried off to the kitchen.

Grampa was gone from the couch! Nicki's gaze went from Blake, seated at the desk fiddling with the cane, to survey the dim room. With relief, she saw the old man had replaced his missing walking stick with a fireplace poker and continued his explorations. From the extent of the black marks about the room, he was making splendid progress. Angelica would be livid.

“I have just the thing, my lord. Em prepared a paste.”

Blake glanced up and reached for the jar in her hand. “Excellent. The fit is actually quite tight. This should do the trick.”

She watched his strong hands move with confidence in applying the paste with the wooden spoon Em had left in the jar. The concoction began to run and Blake searched the desk, grabbing a piece of blank foolscap to wipe up the run.

But Nicki no longer followed his actions.

Lying open on the desk was her father's journal containing entries relating to the current year's projected profits. To the right of the open book was a note she had written to her father. And beneath that her report for breeding the horses currently in the stables, as well as the new breed of stock she intended on acquiring with the funds from the sale of the youngsters.

As though she had just entered a horrible dream, Nicki looked at Blake, but he had not noticed the direction of her gaze, so intent was he in twisting the eagle's head atop the wooden stick. Doubt washed over her. Had he been reviewing the paper work? Dear Lord, had she handed him the final information he needed to ruin her father?

Blake tested the strength of the glue and seemed satisfied. “Your Em is brilliant. All fixed, Grampa.”

He stood and Nicki stepped back to allow him room to pass. Her arms hung at her sides like twin pillars of stone. She wanted nothing more than to awaken from this nightmare.

Shifting the cane to his right hand, Blake paused to lift her chin. “Is something the matter?”

Speechless, she shook her head. Blake continued on, but glanced back at her once more as he carried the cane to Grampa. Nicki wished she could move, speak . . . something. But her heart had shattered into tiny fragments.

And no amount of Em's glue would put it back together.

Nicki entered the breakfast room, relieved to find it deserted at this early hour. Several servants quietly and efficiently filled silver dishes with poached salmon, capers, ham, eggs, and other delicacies. The aroma set her mouth to watering, but she passed by the heavier fare meant for the male guests and instead retrieved a currant roll and a cup of tea laced liberally with sugar.

The long table had been set with silver and napkins. Nicki took a seat at the farthest end near the window. Solitude.

Blake had promised to reveal his plan to help her father today. She sipped the hot tea, but the sweetness turned bitter in her mouth as she remembered the scene in her father's library last night. Surely the earl would not agree to help in one emergency while plotting another, but Nicki little understood the emotions that drove the male species.

Nicki broke off a piece of the roll as she waged an internal war against her growing loyalty to Blake. Though her mind stalwartly insisted she must tell her father Blake had been in his study—he had had the opportunity to review the books—her heart argued that she could not be certain Blake had read the pages. He had certainly been intent on Grampa's cane when she entered the room. But what if he had read the journal and her report?

If Nicki remained silent and another catastrophe occurred, would she not become an accomplice in destroying the business she and her father had poured their life's blood into for the past ten years? She took another sip of tea to dissipate the lump that formed in her throat.

She could be destroying any chance of a reconciliation between the two men she loved most in the world.

Nicki quickly set the cup back into the saucer. Tea spilled over the rim of her cup. She buried her face in her hands. Last night, while struggling to fall asleep, she had come to terms with the reality that she had no choices left. Her first loyalty must be to her father.

Though Blake himself had told her repeatedly she should not trust him, Nicki had discerned what he left unsaid. He wanted her to trust him. No. Not wanted.
Needed
. Nicki sensed that deep inside Blake longed for one person to put him first, no matter the cost.

Dear Heaven, how she wanted to be that person. But he had chosen a man she had loved longer to pit her faith against. Surely he could not expect her to turn her back on her own father.

But he did. She knew that with a certainty. In the path she had chosen, she might well be throwing away any chance of gaining entry to the locked gate of his heart. In his eyes, she would become just another betrayer.

“Nick! Nick! You've got to hide me.”

Nicki jerked her head up as Shelby dashed into the room and around the table to drop to the floor behind her chair. “Good Heavens, Shelby! What have you done now?”

The boy forced himself into a ball, his blue eyes pleading. “Don't look at me! Pretend I'm not here!”

“Master Shelby!”

She looked up to see a figure pause in the doorway. From the man's height and clothing, she guessed he was Simms, but his upper body resembled some horrendous fairy tale monster. Bright purple ooze that looked suspiciously like Em's plum sauce covered his head and chest. As she watched, a large dollop dropped from his chin onto his meticulously starched cravat.

The narrow shoulders straightened into a dignified pose. “Excuse my interruption, Lady Nicole, I am searching for your brother.”

“Simms? Whatever has happened to you?” Nicki took a bite of muffin to keep her mouth busy, as the butler did not appear in the mood to be laughed at.

“I opened the drawer to remove the silver for breakfast when a torrent of . . . of . . . fruit fell on me from the upper shelf. Upon closer examination, I discovered the drawer had been booby trapped.”

Good heavens, Shelby's invention. “Are you injured?”

He raised an already soiled handkerchief to dab at his face, but the preserves had dried quickly and the linen made little headway. “I am uninjured, and would therefore prefer discussing this with Master Shelby rather than His Lordship.”

“I certainly understand the seriousness of the situation. You might have been badly hurt. But I think it would be best if you get cleaned up right away. You would not want the stuff to set to the point that you must wear it off. It might alarm the guests if you go about with a purple face.”

Simms inclined his head stiffly. “You are absolutely right, my lady. I shall go at once.”

“Do you think perhaps it would be appropriate for me to speak with Shelby on your behalf? Papa has so much on his mind.”

“Of course. I would not burden your father with such a trifling matter. I have several maids cleaning the silver and the contraption has been removed to the kitchen. If Master Shelby attempts to retrieve it, Emma has strict instructions not to release it to him. I hope that was not too presumptuous of me.”

Nicki raised the linen napkin to her lips. “Not at all. Your restraint is quite admirable. Thank you, Simms.”

“Thank
you
, my lady.”

As the man departed Nicki rushed to ease the door closed. “Shelby Langley, how could you?”

He stood reluctantly and shuffled his feet. “It was Em who said I should use her plum sauce.”

Nicki's laughter burst forth like a surging river held too long by a fragile dam. “You should be ashamed, Shelby. I fear Simms will be quite an oddity for a few days while the color wears off.”

A hesitant smile spread over his lips. “I have to make some adjustments to the contraption. The alarm didn't go off.”

“And thank goodness it did not! I truly do not think Simms would have appreciated the guests running downstairs to investigate the ruckus only to find him and the silver covered in plum sauce.”

“You won't tell Papa?”

Nicki shook her head. “He may be curious at Simms' . . . new skin tone. If you are going to try out your inventions on people, I suggest you ask their permission first. And perhaps at the end of the day when Simms has had time to calm down, you should give him a handsome apology.”

Shelby skipped around the end of the table to stand next to Nicki. “I will. Do you think Em will help me figure out what went wrong?”

“I thought she was to keep you away from the contraption.”

“When Simms was giving orders, Em peeked ‘round the corner and winked at me.”

Nicki tousled Shelby's hair as he opened the door with caution and peeked out. “We shall all be lost if Em takes up with your shenanigans!”

Shelby cast Nicki a quick grin and bolted into the hall, offering a breathless greeting to their father as he dodged around him.

Shaking his head in exasperation, her father continued into the room. “I sometimes fear I'm being made a fool of by my children and I'll not learn of it until I am on my death bed.”

“Good morning, Papa. Do not worry, we are all the angels you believe us to be.”

He smiled briefly, his usual vigor missing. “I'm surprised to see you here, Nick. You've been scarce the last few days.”

“I know. I thought I should make myself more accessible to the guests. Poor Angelica must be running out of excuses for me.”

Her father nodded absently. While he retrieved a plate and filled it to overflowing, Nicki sat down at her abandoned breakfast. She watched with concern as he took a seat across from her and stabbed his fork into the ham without another word.

“Is something troubling you, Papa?”

He looked up and focused on her as though he had forgotten her presence. “No. Nothing's the matter.”

“It is unlike you to be so distracted.”

Her father set his fork down and reached inside his jacket to remove a folded piece of stationary. “This was delivered to me just now and I can't say as I know quite how to take it.”

A shiver tiptoed over her skin. Had Blake come through? “Perhaps I can help.”

“I'm sure you can, since I'm assuming it must've been your doing that brought this about.”

“Brought what about, Papa?”

He set the paper down beside his plate without offering it to her. “Dylan has promised me four of his prized Arabians to replace the horses we lost. They're stabled at his home in London and he's notified the prospective owners by messenger that the horses are available upon their request.”

Nicki did not have to feign surprise. “Blake has horses?”

“It seems he has a large horse ranch in America and brought ten of his finest to London to market them. It was damned generous of him to give some of them over to me.”

“Very generous.”

Confusion and uncertainty entered his expression. “He demands repayment, of course, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Two horses out of our births next year, then two the following year. Very fair.”

Nicki nodded. The inside of her mouth seemed filled with cotton, and she tipped up her teacup and took a drink. “Papa, I have something I must tell you.”

“Do you know what this means, Nick? It proves he wasn't the one who had our horses poisoned. I thought him guilty, but you were right about him. I've misjudged the man.”

She had to tell him about the library last night, but such strides had been made toward bridging the gulf. “Papa, there is something you should—”