Once Upon a Diamond (28 page)

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Authors: Teresa McCarthy

Tags: #Romance, #Clean & Wholesome, #Historical, #Regency, #Teen & Young Adult, #Historical Romance, #Inspirational

BOOK: Once Upon a Diamond
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Not a minute later Tristan pushed open the door to her
bedchambers and tossed her onto the bed with a plop.

“I have never been so man-handled in my life!”

His green eyes turned black, and the meaning of his
intense gaze was obvious. She felt the color rise in her cheeks.

“You are my wife now. I’m responsible for your welfare,
whether you like it or not.”

She clutched a pillow to her breast. “Well, I don’t like
it.” 

“Too bad. When it’s time for supper, you will come. If
not, I’ll carry you down the same way I carried you up.” 

His eyes flashed a gentle but firm warning. “Is that
perfectly clear,
Countess
?”  He did not wait for an answer, but turned
on his heels, locking the door behind him with a resounding click.

Kate jumped up and whipped open the connecting door to Tristan’s
bedchambers where Matthew was still recovering. She hastened across the room,
trying to wiggle the door open. It was locked from the outside. She looked for
the key that was usually on the bureau.

“He locked me in!”

“Tut, tut, tut, little sister, watch your language. He
may have his reasons.”

Kate spun around. “Why is he doing this to me?” 

“Kate.” Matthew acted faint, trying to deter his sister
away from her determined foolishness. “Bit of water, please.” 

“Oh, Matthew.” Frowning, she rushed to his side and
poured him some water from the pitcher.

As the hours ticked by, Kate played a game of piquet
with Matthew. She contemplated not joining her husband for supper, but decided
it would be better if she heeded his warning.

Later that evening she dressed in a light yellow gown
decorated with white lace. It was a bit more daring in the scoop of the neck,
but tonight she was determined to show Tristan she was no meek little lamb. Let
him see who was leading whom.

Since the door was locked, she had no maid to help her
with her hair. She did the best she could, tying it up with a tortoise shell
comb and a pale yellow ribbon. Sitting opposite her looking glass, she waited
anxiously to be summoned to eat.

What kind of marriage had she entered into? Tristan used
to be kind and agreeable only days ago, and now he seemed cold and distant. She
didn’t understand at all.

There was a knock on the door before Tristan entered. The
sight of his blue-black hair curling about his right temple in a devil-may-care
attitude sent her heart fluttering. He looked so handsome in his jacket and
buff breeches, he took her breath away.

“Supper is being served, wife.” 

His gaze captured hers, then lowered and traveled over
every inch of her person until it came back to rest on her lips. A tremor of
awareness swept through her. She put a hand to her bosom while her stomach
flip-flopped. Perhaps her high-necked blue gown would have been more appropriate.

She stood as he gave her his arm. Firm muscles clenched
beneath his coat. It seemed he was purposely keeping his distance. Why? Was he
having second thoughts? He didn’t even try to kiss her anymore. Something had
changed. For a scant second, she wondered if it had anything to do with that
silly diamond.

In the dining room Kate found herself at one end of a
long table while Tristan sat at the opposite end. The eating utensils were
engraved with the earl’s crest, a diamond set inside the outline of a heart. Large
candelabras flickered in the corners of the room with smaller ones resting
beside the fruited centerpiece. The delicious aroma of onions and chicken
filled the air.

Kate
took a quick peek at Tristan. His eyes softened as they met hers. She looked
away, her breath catching in her throat. She refused to fall under his spell. She
was not Maggie!   

“Do
hope you like roasted chicken.” 

“It’s
one of my favorites, my lord.”
I’d like to roast you, in fact.
“The
potatoes and peas are very good, too.”
I’d like to squash them in your green
eyes. They match them, you know.

“I
will make this matter clear.” 

Kate’s
head snapped up at the sound of his deep-timbered voice. Had she voice her
thoughts out loud? 

“As
my wife, you will forego this foolishness and call me Tristan. Is that clear?”

Pompous windbag.
“Very
clear,
Tristan.

“Much better.” His smile was as intimate as if he had
pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss.

Kate’s heart gave a little kick when she noted the
darkening in his eyes. But there were too many questions left unanswered. Did
he love her? Was he even fond of her? Or did he only need her to produce an
heir? Was the diamond the only thing he worried about? 

“I
don’t want there to be problems between us, Kate. You have to trust me. There are
reasons you cannot stay at the duke’s.”

She
lifted a curt brow. “Oh, the insignificant fact of me being your property?”

He
had the gall to laugh.

Kate
stiffened. Well, she would not play the stupid wife. She had a few questions of
her own. “Since I am your wife, I want to know who this Andrews fellow is that
met with you today.”

Tristan’s mouth took on an unpleasant twist.

Kate felt her cheeks heat, but she had no intention in
giving in. She glared right back.

“My lord, a gentleman to see you. A Mr. Wilcox, I
believe.”

Kate turned to the butler and let out a chuckle. “I just
left my brother. He most certainly cannot join us in his condition.” 

The butler gave an uneasy frown. “My lord, the gentleman
presented himself as Mr. Robert Wilcox from America.” 

Kate’s fork clattered against her plate. “That’s
ridiculous. My father’s


A
tall figure hovered near the dining room entrance. Kate froze as if she’d seen
a ghost. She glanced at Tristan. “I don’t think


But
she didn’t finish.

Bolting
from his seat, Tristan caught his wife before she hit the floor. He glanced
over his shoulder and stilled. The man hurrying toward him was an older image
of Matthew.

Devil
take it. This gentleman was no ghost. He was Kate’s father.

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

K
ate felt herself
being pulled out of a whirling darkness as Tristan’s voice penetrated the fog. She
was lying on the sofa in his drawing room. The green marbled fireplace began to
come into view. She must have fainted. Her body must not have healed as much as
she thought. And goodness, she thought she had seen her father.

“Katherine. Can you hear me? It’s me, darlin’. Katherine
Josephine.”

Kate hesitated. “Papa? Is it really you?” 

Her father was standing over her, smiling as if he
hadn’t been dead at all! Standing here. With her. He was wearing a neat blue
jacket and buckskin breeches. His dark brown hair was a bit grayer about the
temples. His face was tanned from the sun. But he looked every bit the muscular
fifty-year-old father who had disappeared months ago.

Robert Wilcox smiled and sank beside her. “You gave me a
fright, young lady.”

“I did?” Kate said, a hysterical hitch in her voice. “But
I thought you were dead!” A sob escaped her throat. Her father was alive. He
was holding her. Squeezing her. He felt warm and safe, smelling of pines and
leather. His scent. Familiar, and oh, so very good.

“There, there, darlin’. Everything’s all right. I’ll
tell you all about it. But the important thing is, I’ve come back to you, and
soon we can all return home.”

Home?
Kate
lifted her gaze to meet Tristan’s, pleading in silence for him to keep their
marriage a secret. His face was grim, but he understood and nodded in agreement.

Robert gently pushed Kate back onto the sofa and rubbed
her hand. “Now, little lady, your aunt tells me that Matthew has had a bout
with a pistol. When I discovered you two were staying in London, I stopped at
my sister’s, thinking you would be with her.”

He chuckled slightly. “After her infamous swoon upon my
arrival, I was given the news that you were staying with Lord Lancewood here
while Matthew recovered.” 

He shot a wary glance toward Tristan, then back to his
daughter. “I hear Matthew is doing better. I’d like to see him.”

Kate bit her lip, barely able to control her emotions. Her
Papa was alive. “Matthew’s recovering, though he was quite ill with the fever
and we thought we might lose him.” 

“But you didn’t let him die, did you, Kate?”

“No, Papa.” 

Kate watched in confusion as Tristan turned his back on
them. The vulnerability in his eyes made her soul ache for the little boy who had
never been loved. He thought she was going to leave him. But she wanted to stay.
She loved him. She could never love another.

She was stunned by the sudden realization and wanted to
tell her father about her marriage, but the words didn’t come.

Robert took her hand in his. “I think it’s best if you
talk to Matthew first. Prepare my entrance, so to speak. Lancewood should be
able to entertain me for a short period.” 

Kate nodded and after a drink of some sherry, she
hurried out the door, her knees still shaking from the unexpected presence of
her father.

 

Tristan stared at Kate’s father and felt a tightening in
his chest when there had been talk about his wife returning home to America. He’d
been happy for Kate upon her father’s return, but it made his position as a
husband much more complicated.

He wanted her more than he wanted anything, even more
than that blasted diamond. His stomach churned at the thought of losing her
after only twenty-four hours of marriage.

Hell and spitfire, she had been his wife in name only. That
was one thing he was determined to change.

“Brandy, Mr. Wilcox?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Call me, Robert, and yes, I don’t mind if I do. It
seems I’m beholden to you for housing my son and daughter after that terrible
ordeal. Thank you for being there for them.”

After handing the brandy to the man, Tristan stared at
the amber liquid in his hands. “I fear that if it were not for me, your son may
not have been shot at all."

“But I was informed by Georgiana that it was a footpad
that attacked you."

Tristan sank slowly into the chair beside Robert and
took a deep, fortifying breath. “I’m afraid, that’s not the whole of it.”  The
two men downed their brandy, peering over their glasses, as if scrutinizing
every detail about the other.

Robert finally interrupted the silence. “Tell me."

Kate’s father was a good man. Tristan didn’t like
keeping the marriage a secret, but he would not go against Kate’s wishes. Not
now anyway. So he began to explain the events after the ball and how Matthew
had been shot.

He also included information about his quest for the
diamond and the hiring of the Bow Street Runner, purposely excluding his covert
business with Whitehall. In fact he felt so at ease with Robert that he went on
to include information about his first meeting with Kate at the inn.

Robert’s eyes bulged as if he had eaten an entire bowl
of the duchess’s raspberry sauce. “You mean to tell me my daughter had a knife
to her throat?” 

“She refused to give the intruder my location and was
almost killed. But the man fell on his own knife.”

Robert shook his head in disbelief. “She’s always been
stubborn like that. Impulsive, too.”

“Putting it mildly,” Tristan said with a twisted smile.

“I see you have had more than one occasion to discover
her temperament then.”

“Indeed, I have.”

 Tristan realized that Robert was not the head of a
shipping business for nothing. He was as sharp as a blade. This man could be of
some help in finding the diamond if Gaston were involved. Time was of the
essence. Formalities couldn’t wait.

“I take it you know Captain Gaston?” Tristan asked
without hesitation.

Robert expression darkened. “What about him?”

“Though you probably know the man’s a thief, a scoundrel,
and possibly a murderer, he attacked your daughter, sir.”

Robert shot from his chair. “Thunderation!” 

“I understand your hatred for the man. Matthew informed
me of the captain’s nefarious actions with respect to your disappearance. But Gaston
is in London. Thought you should know.”

“I had a feeling he would turn up here.” Robert narrowed
his brows, as if sensing the earl’s protective position. “So, you are
interested in my daughter?” 

“I have only the most honorable intentions toward her.” 

Robert cast Tristan a sly grin. “See that they stay
honorable, your lordship. But it seems that you have someone out there who’s
trying to kill you. Do you know why?”

Tristan plowed a hand through his hair. “There are a
handful of people who might want me dead." He strode past the sofa and
toward the fireplace.

“Gaston?"

Tristan turned and let out a bitter smile. “The man
might want to kill me. I know he’s capable of it, but I’ve already discovered
he was home at the time of Matthew’s shooting.”

“He could have sent someone to do his dirty work. But what
about the diamond? If someone thought you had this rare jewel, one might try to
kill you for it. Is that a possibility? Maybe that’s what happened at the inn.”

“A possibility, but not a feasible one. I’m afraid, I
don’t have the gem. I do have information that Gaston was in the vicinity of
the man who did have it though. And that man is now dead.”

“Murdered,
you mean?”

Tristan
nodded grimly.

“I
see,” answered Robert. “But you have no proof the captain has the diamond?” 

“I
don’t know who has it.” Tristan had just received a missive an hour before Kate
had come down to dinner. Headquarters had given Tristan and the other agents
strict orders to let the captain walk about freely. Watch and wait. It was one
of the hardest things Tristan had ever done.

Robert
sat back on the sofa. “It seems this diamond may mean more than you’re telling
me, eh? Not just a family quest for the sake of honor and all that?”

Tristan
looked toward the window. Robert Wilcox was a dangerous man. Too smart and too
perceptive. Where had Kate’s father been the last few months? Could he possibly
have heard about the problems escalating in India and the threat to England? Or
was the man a threat in himself? 

Robert
managed a small chuckle. “Have no fear. I’ll keep mum on your search. Foreign
Office matters can be so tiring when you’re in it alone, can they not?”

Tristan
spun around, his drink sloshing in his hand.

Robert
patted the air with his hand and lowered his voice. “Wellington’s a friend of
mine. No need to get into the particulars. Knew him before the war. Long story.
But if you must know, the Duke was arranging a journey to France when I met him
in Dover a few days ago. We had dinner. One thing led to another, and the man
gave me some information about the diamond. Thought I could help.” 

Tristan
almost choked on his own spit. “Wellington?” 

The
Duke  of Wellington? Tristan was acquainted with the man, but he had no idea
which of Britain’s leaders knew of the diamond.

“Indeed,”
Robert said. “The man has an uncanny memory. He remembered you were a neighbor
to the duke, my brother-in-law. He must have access to reports in Whitehall and
thought I could be of some help with my expertise in reconnaissance. Was an
agent myself.”

Tristan
smiled, more intrigued by this man every minute. “For England?”

Robert
coughed. “America, my boy. Thought I would let you talk first though. But I
wonder, does my daughter realize these happenings at the inn and the ball could
have been attempts on your life?”  

Weary, Tristan rubbed the back of his neck. “No. She
thinks the first incident at the inn was a thief. And she believes that the
attempt on Matthew’s life was a footpad."

Robert frowned. “Listen here, I’d rather you keep your
side of the story from Katherine. She’s had too much unneeded excitement since
she came to England, and if she’s endeared to you as I think,” Robert swept Tristan
a knowing gaze, “I don’t want her getting involved. She may do something
impulsive. And we both know what kind of mess that may lead to. Especially if I
the stakes are what I think they are.” 

Tristan nodded. What else did this man know?

Robert stood and looked past the doorway to the hall. “Suppose
I’ve given Katherine ample time to warn her brother of my coming. Let’s venture
upstairs to see if Matthew’s fainted as well, then I can give my account of why
I am not floating in the Atlantic.” 

 

“Kate,” Matthew asked. “How does he look?”

“Well. But I do not want you telling Papa about my
marriage.”

Matthew struggled to sit up in bed. “Why not? It was sanctioned
by the church. You had a license. You’re legally married, Kate. By God and by
men. And don’t tell me you don’t love your husband. He’s insane about you.”

Kate turned on her heel and glared at Matthew. “Mad
about me? That’s all he is to me lately. I can’t seem to do anything without
him scowling at me.” She chewed on her lip. “Please, don’t tell, Papa.” She
lifted her chin. “Besides, you owe me after you made me marry the man.”

 

A
minute later the door opened and Tristan and Robert entered. Robert strode to
his son’s side, hugging Matthew, careful not to touch the ugly wound. Years of
memories haunted Tristan as he observed the Wilcox reunion.

A
cold lump formed in his belly as he watched Kate wrap her arms about her father.
Would she ever love him with such emotion as that? Even Handsome got a crumb or
two.

While
Robert inspected Matthew’s wound, Kate walked over to Tristan, pulling him to
the other side of the room. “Thank you for not telling my father about us. I
need some time to ease him into the idea. I think it’s best that I go back with
him to my aunt’s. My brother doesn’t need me as much as he did before." 

“Leave here?” he hissed, grabbing her shoulders.

“Only a week.” When she touched his lips with the tip of
her finger, it was all Tristan could do not to drag her back to her room and
kiss her senseless. “Please, only a week for Papa to adjust, and then I can
tell him.” 

Tristan reluctantly dropped his hold on her as he
recalled the threats on his life. Hell’s teeth! On second thought, Kate might
be safer away from him. But the thought of being without her for an entire week
would drive him insane. How many times had he kissed her? Two? Three? He had
controlled himself at dinner, thinking he would have time to be with her
tonight.

“One week,” he growled softly. “Then you’ll come home
and be my wife,” he caught her gaze and held it, “in every sense of the word.”
His blood stirred at the sight of her blushing cheeks. “One week, mind you. You
come home or I come calling, sweetheart. And I believe you know I have the
means to accomplish that.”

“Thank you,” she said and lifted herself on tiptoes to
press a light kiss on his lips.

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