Once Upon a Diamond (13 page)

The butler nodded. “All of it.” The words were given as
much as a reprimand as a fact.

“How long has he been barred from her room?” Devin was
referring to his father being the recipient of his mother’s well-known habit of
door locking when she was mad. All day and
all night
!

“As
long as your stay in London. I must say, I did warn you when you left without
seeing His Grace. It has been weeks, my lord. Intensely long weeks for him, I
daresay.”

“The devil!” Devin stomped from the room, clenching his
teeth. “Women! There’s a vile conspiracy to turn me inside out, Webster. Vile,
I say.” 

Webster straightened a pillow that had fallen to the
floor. A smile crossed his face as his lordship’s words reverberated down the
hall. There hadn’t been this much excitement since the duchess swooned at
Prinny’s feet after his royal hand had pinched her behind.

Kate rested her hand against her case. She was grateful
she had thought to bring her instrument to England. It had been packed in her
trunks at the last minute.

Once inside the stables, she greeted the groom and
pointed to a majestic black stallion in the far stall. “That horse, if you
please.”

“But Miss, he’s a mean one, he is,” the groom insisted,
twitching nervously as he pointed to a dappled gray horse in the next stall. “This
mare would suit you better. A gentle horse for a gentle lady like
yourself." 

Kate hid her smile. Gentle lady? She doubted Tristan
would say the same. She fingered toward the sleek, black beast. “That horse, if
you please, sir.”   

The groom frowned. “Yes, Miss, but Ned here can ride
with you. ’Twould be no trouble.”

Kate eyed the young groom standing nervously near the
haystack.

“No trouble at all, Miss Wilcox.”

Kate gave him her best smile. “I wish to be alone, if
you don’t mind, Ned. You can understand that, can’t you? At the moment, I, um,
have womanly concerns.” That should scare him, she thought, immediately feeling
sorry for the man.

He reddened. “C-certainly, Miss.”

The head groom tried to intervene, saying he would go
with her, but Kate would have none of it. She needed to be alone. She needed to
think.

A minute later she was saddled on the magnificent
stallion, gritting her teeth in pure delight as she bolted toward the fields. She
laughed, recalling the look of utter amazement on the elder groom’s face when
she had mounted the horse. It had been the same groom from ten years ago. The
poor, dear man.

She finally came upon a familiar cluster of ancient oaks
that surrounded a small lake. It was the same place she had encountered Devin
and Tristan years ago.

She drew the stallion toward the water, dismounted, and
looked up at the magnificent horse with a frown. The animal seemed a bit larger
than she had remembered back in the stables. A reassuring smile came to her
lips as she eyed a large boulder that could later be used for a step. It wasn’t
a tree stump, but it would do.

Slipping her flute case off her back, she sat on a flat
rock near the lake and pulled off her hat, shaking out her hair. It was a warm
spring day with robins singing in the trees and the fresh bouquet of a recent
rain lingering in the air.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and tilted her face toward
the sun as a light breeze caressed her face. The warm rays lifted her spirits,
seeping into her bones and her mind.

She opened her case and pulled out her flute, placing
her mouth over the small air hole and running her fingers through three octaves
of notes. She was pleased that her precious flute had made it through the
terrible trip across the ocean without a scratch, which was more than she could
say for herself.

Back at Lancewood Hall, Tristan straddled his new
stallion, determined to tame the wild beast. His head jerked violently as the horse
plunged forward.

Edward watched, his blue eyes twinkling. “Having a bit
of trouble there?”

Tristan whipped his head around. “And you can do
better?”

“All in good time, big brother. By the way, Mother’s
been asking for you.”

Tristan tightened his hold on the feisty stallion. “I
take it she wants more pin money for her shopping excursions in Town. She’s
been back and forth from London so many times the past few months, I hesitate
to count.” 

But he had no time to continue his conversation with Edward
because the stallion seemed to take control of the situation and took off
beyond the stables.

“Whoa, Diamond. Whoa.” Grimacing, Tristan jerked back on
the leather reins, the fast gallop soon changing into a slow trot.

After a while, man and beast seemed to reach an
understanding. Tristan patted the stallion’s mane and let out a relieved smile.
The horse lifted its nose and snorted, giving a signal of something ahead. Tristan
tilted his gaze toward the cluster of oaks surrounding the lake. A melody of
notes floated in the breeze.

“Strange,” he whispered to himself.  

His eyes narrowed in surprise when he caught sight of
Devin’s black stallion drinking from the lake. So, the marquess was out for a
ride too, was he? 

Tristan dismounted and strolled closer. It had to be
Devin’s stallion, with that large white patch on the animal’s left hind leg. But
where in the blazes was his friend? Could that really be the same stubborn
beast that had bucked Devin weeks before? 

And what was that heavenly sound? 

Tristan circled the trees. Ten yards in front of him sat
a vision of beauty. Long blond hair shimmered in the heat of the blinding sun.

His lips quirked upward. A mermaid playing a flute? But
the illusion swiftly turned to reality when he noticed a pair of dainty white
ankles peeking out from beneath a pink skirt.

His eyes quickly scanned the shore, and he noted a pair
of lady’s riding boots standing neatly near the water. Well, well, well. This
was better than Devin, was it not? Pretty ankles and all. Not a mermaid, but a
beautiful woman out here all alone. His blood began to stir.

She was enchanting.
He found himself gawking
like a schoolboy who had just had his first kiss.
Bending his right knee, he pressed his booted foot on the trunk to stare
at the bewitching angel as her magical song filled the air.

There
was an air about the woman that drew him like Ulysses to the sirens.

He took a deep, unsteady breath and turned his wary gaze
upon Devin’s
calm
stallion. If he hadn’t known better, he would have
thought that the music had tamed the wild beast.

When the music stopped, Tristan shifted his gaze back to
the blond-haired angel. Her fingers seemed to tremble as she put the flute back
into its case. With a small groan, she pulled her knees up to her chin and
buried her face in her gown. Tristan’s chest tightened at the sound of the
woman’s weeping.  

The wall around Kate’s heart had finally shattered. She
could no longer keep her emotions at bay. It was the first time she had played
her flute since she’d left Boston. Her heart stirred with memories of her
father, her home, her pain the past few months, and the incident at the inn.

She could not bear the thought of seeing a man with a
knife through his heart, even if he was a thief. She could not bear the thought
of her father’s death or of Matthew leaving her. She could not bear the thought
of facing Tristan again. She could not bear the thought of anything much more.

For minutes, she sobbed uncontrollably. She wanted to go
home. When had she become such a watering pot? She was usually so strong.

Her crying turned to small whimpers of grief. When she
finally felt purged of her swirling emotions, she wiped her eyes with the back
of her hand and sniffed. It always helped to cry, her father had said, and he
was right. She felt much better.

Her horse nickered, and she lifted her head when the sound
of crunching footsteps reached her ears. Alarm raced through her veins.

Someone was watching her. Approaching her. And she was
alone.

Blotting the remaining tears with her hands, she stood
and turned with her chin held high, facing the intruder. Gasping, she stumbled
back. It was Tristan!

The man stood tall and lean, just as she’d remembered
him from the inn. His emerald eyes softened with concern. He’d heard her weep. She
was mortified.

She wiped her eyes once again and blinked back her
tears, her heart pounding with dread. Would he remember her from years ago, or
even from the inn? Her looks had changed dramatically in three weeks.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he replied, his green
eyes filled with worry.

His sense of caring endeared her to him, and she felt
her stomach stir. She was vulnerable to this powerful man, which didn’t set
well with her at all.

“You didn’t startle me,” she said defiantly.

He
bowed. “Tristan Fullerton, Lord Lancewood at your service.” 

His words in the carriage drifted back to her.
Upon
our meeting anytime in the near future, you may call me, Lord Lancewood. Is
that clear? 

Lord Windbag, she thought with a half-smile.

He stepped closer. “While I was out riding, I heard your
tunes carried in the wind. I came to see for myself the source of the
mysterious music.” He paused, his eyes dancing with desire. “I see that the
sweet sounds do not compare to the beauty of the performer.” 

His voice was as silky as a horse’s tail. Kate
immediately remembered Maggie and almost slapped the man.

“I think you’d best leave,” she said coolly. “I should
not be here alone with you.”

He flashed her a devilish grin that had obviously melted
many hearts, then he lifted her hand for a kiss. Kate jerked back from his hold
just as his lips brushed her skin. Too late. Her heart turned at his touch. She
was not immune to this man, and she knew it. “Please, leave.”

He smiled. “I noticed the horse. Is Lord Roxdon about?” 

“No.” But a sense of uneasiness tightened Kate’s throat
when the earl drew in a deep breath. If she didn’t know better, she would have
thought it was a sigh of relief. Yet the wondrous thought occurred to her that
he didn’t recognize her.

“I’m a guest of the duke and duchess,” she said calmly,
as if that would make him keep his distance. Wrong again.

The man took another daring step forward and eyed her
bare feet. Stopping himself, he tilted his questioning face toward the regal
stallion. “The horse?”

She smiled, pleased with herself. He didn’t approve. How
grand. “I rode him. A healthy specimen, if I do say so myself.”

He laughed as he edged closer. “You rode that beast?”

She hesitated and took another step back. She didn’t
miss the way his green eyes studied her. Did he think her a servant, being out
here alone?

He gathered a strand of her hair in his hand and looped
it around his finger. “A little thing like you conquering that beast?  A
beautiful, little thing like you,” he said softly.

Kate’s heart fluttered. But oh, she knew better. She
could not forget who he was, and all the Maggies who had sat upon his lap. She
took another step back and tripped. Before she could fall, he reached forward,
hauling her to his chest.

His breath kissed the top of her head. “Whoever you are,
you smell of lavender and spring.”

Kate swallowed tightly, feeling the drumming of his
heart in her ear. Her body molded against his while his hands strayed along the
hollow of her back, and drat, if she didn’t like it! 

Alarmed at her own reaction, she pushed her hands
against his chest. “And I think, my lord, you smell of something all together
different. Though, I do not feel a lady should speak of such things.” 

He kept her locked in his arms, and she heard a deep
rumble in his chest. The impudence of the man! He was laughing at her. Infuriated,
she gave him a swift kick in the shins.

“Owww!” He dropped his arms and tottered back, his eyes
twinkling. “Wh-what was that for?”

A cool breeze rustled through the trees and Kate raised
her hand to tuck her windblown hair from her face. “You, a presumed gentleman,
have to ask?”

He laughed again. “Your haughtiness leaves much to be
desired, little lady.” 

Kate glared at him. But when she met his smoldering
gaze, the blood rushed to her head. Lord Lancewood was a dangerous man.   

He took a firm step toward her and laughed again, but
his intense gaze held a certain challenge that made Kate’s nerves shatter like
broken china. She was in deep trouble.

“Now, what would a
gentleman
do in a situation
like this?” he asked beneath hooded eyes.

“Now, now,” she said holding her hands up in defense and
retreating. “It was only a little kick.”

“Little kick? I’ll have a bruise the size of a saucer by
tomorrow.”

“Oh, is the poor little lordship going to cry about
little old me kicking him?” Though he deserved the whack in the leg, she should
have truly kept her mouth shut, but her words were something she always had
trouble taming, among other things.

He stopped in his tracks and tilted his head toward the
sky as a flock of birds flapped overhead. A frown suddenly formed across his
brow, and she felt a strange foreboding.