Once Upon a Diamond (5 page)

“My father always said I was stubborn,” she said,
dropping her gaze. “My mother died when I was quite young.”

Tristan immediately scolded himself. So, she had no
mother. Well, neither did he, if one’s definition of a mother included love. Hell
and spitfire! He didn’t have time for this girl or her business. He needed to
find that blasted diamond.

The last communication he received from Whitehall
conveyed the urgency of his mission. Somehow, there had been a leak. A group of
Napoleon sympathizers had received directives to obtain the diamond at any
costs.

Now, there were many British agents involved in the
search, but Tristan was still the most likely candidate to find the gem. His
mission was more important than ever.

“...But
the weather was horrid outside, and I know my kick was probably a shock to you,
so I forgive your, well, boorish, or perhaps I should say, overbearing
behavior.”

Tristan blinked.
Boorish? Overbearing?
Wine
sputtered from his mouth when he realized Kate had pressed a warm hand upon his
and was speaking to him.

“You forgive me?” he choked out.

Her brown eyes twinkled with what? Mischief? Or was it
that naïve innocence again?

“Of course. Even lords can be forgiven you know.” She
brushed some mud off her cloak and smiled. “And as you can see, I am no mule.”

It was all Tristan could do not to break out in laughter.
It was unbelievable that this girl was intent on forgiving him. She truly meant
what she said. Dash it. The chit was as naive as he thought. And still as stubborn
as a mule.

“Fine,” was all he could utter. He had never encountered
a female such as her. Never.  

He twiddled his thumbs as he watched her devour every
morsel of food on her plate. His discerning gaze focused on her weary smile and
intelligent eyes.

The scent of sweet lavender seeped past the muddy layers
of her cloak, and he felt another overwhelming wave of protectiveness sweep
through him. Where was she going? What was she doing out on a night like this,
unchaperoned? And what business was it of his? 

Trying to push his wayward thoughts to the back of his
mind, he wondered where Fletcher and that cursed diamond had disappeared to. The
meeting was to be tonight. What the deuce had gone wrong?

“Where’s Mr. Fletcher?” 

The drunken sailor gulped hard as he fought against the
firm grip the scar-faced man held over his throat. “I ain’t knowing a thing,
guvnah. Not a thing.”

A damp tavern wall pressed up against the sailor’s back.
Not twenty yards away, the Thames glistened beneath the drizzling rain as
billows of spray hit the docks.

The scar-faced man choked out a grim laugh. “I saw you
with him in the tavern, you fool.” His grip on the sailor tightened. “Are you
going to tell me the truth, or do I do this the hard way?

The sailor swallowed, glancing briefly toward the
swaying shadows of his shipmates as they passed by the alleyway. “Mr. Fletcher
was drunk, guvnah. Didn’t know what he was saying.”

Two black eyes narrowed in rage. “Where did he go? You
sat by him all night, cavorting with those harlots. Don’t tell me he wasn’t
blabbing about a two hundred carat diamond and you don’t know a thing about
it.” 

“He’s...waiting in the hack...down the way.”

The scar-faced man dropped his hand. “Thank you kindly,
mate.”

The young sailor let out a groan of relief.

“Where’s he headed?” the attacker growled.

The sailor stepped away, his body trembling. “He ain’t
the remembering type when he’s been drinking. Off to some inn. Late, he is. Rain
and all. Paid me to accompany him, he did.”

“Guard him and the diamond, you mean.” The man laughed
as he grabbed the sailor again.

The sailor gasped at the point of a dagger flashing
before him. “B-but guvnah, I ain’t done nothing wrong.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, matey. You were at the wrong
place, at the wrong time. That’s all. Nothing personal.”

Kate leaned against the wooden seat in the Hunting Fox
Inn, feeling the long voyage and the strong wine take hold of her body. Most of
the customers were settled in their rooms or passed out at their tables. She
almost laughed at the thought of Matthew popping in on her now.

“Time to rest.” 

The earl’s firm voice startled her out of her weariness.
She glanced up, finding his gaze studying her wet hood and what lay beneath it.
A shiver of awareness shot through her. For some absurd reason, she wished she
were in her ballgown, making him see what she truly looked like when the
gentlemen in Boston vied for her attention. Instead, she shrank back.

But this wasn’t Boston. This was England, and she was
very far from home - without a chaperone. She barely had time to blink when the
earl rose and swept her into his arms, thrusting the birdcage in her hand and
heading toward the stairs.

“Put me down this instant,” she hissed, feeling the eyes
of a few nighttime stragglers grinning her way. This was not at all proper. And
she truly hoped Matthew was out to sea and not having second thoughts about
following her.

“I do not bite, my dear.”

“And I am perfectly able to walk on my own,” she snapped.

But her words were voiced to no avail. The man’s hold on
her was firm. He paid no heed to her plea and continued up the flight of stairs
with the innkeeper showing him the way.

For a moment he dropped his emerald gaze. Her eyes
locked with his, and there was a pang of warmth in the pit of her stomach.

The corner of his eyes crinkled, and she looked away,
her mind reeling with confusion. Her muddy boots swayed helplessly in the air,
and her heart pounded against her ribs.   

“I repeat, I do not bite,” he said smoothly, trying to
reassure her. “You are perfectly safe.” 

She tightened her hold on the birdcage as it swung back
and forth in her hand and eased another peek at his chiseled profile. His jaw
stiffened in response to what she could only think was her fidgeting. She
winced. Though his hold on her made her feel safe, she knew she should not be
in his arms at all.

“It’s divine. Simply divine,” the parrot sang out.

The earl’s expression began to harden as his booted
heels clacked down the hall.

Uncomfortable, she drew her lips together, burrowing
deeper into the muddy cloak. Goodness. The man was too attractive to lock eyes
with, especially when he held her so intimately. She could sense an
overwhelming power flowing from him, and for once in her life, she felt
thoroughly intimidated. He was disturbing to her peace of mind and dangerous as
well.   

“Please, let me down,” she whispered.

But he wasn’t listening. His face grew taut and he
seemed annoyed with her. She breathed in his leathery scent, and a hot ache
grew in her throat. She was conscious of his strong hands wrapped around her
body, and the problem was, she was beginning to enjoy it.

What was wrong with her? He was a total stranger. She
didn’t like not being in control.

“Handsome needs me,” she blurted out.

That sparked a reaction from him. He jostled her body in
his arms. “Handsome shall be quite fine. I’ll see that the owner keeps him
inside for the night and finds him a good home.” 

He looked pointedly in her direction and stopped,
letting the innkeeper walk further ahead of them. “Does that satisfy you?”

“It’s divine. Just divine,” the parrot piped.

The earl scowled. “Can’t you shut that creature up?”

Kate shrugged, biting back a chuckle. What a
stick-in-the-mud. She almost enjoyed disturbing this man’s peace. She felt a
bit disordered, why not this handsome earl, too? 

“I, er, have no idea how to keep the bird quiet. I said
before that Mr. Divine was a gift.” 

The man raised a skeptical brow, as if to say she could
not even manage a dumb parrot.

For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of a smile
beneath that rough exterior, but it was soon replaced by a manly grimace - and
he certainly was a man in every sense of the word. There was no denying that.

His touch made her limbs tingle like a warm fire. But
when she shifted her position, he looked as if she had stuck him with a knife. “If
you keep squirming, perhaps I shall bite.”

She stilled every muscle in her body as the proprietor
opened the door to her room and left. The earl’s boots clicked past the
threshold. He halted, looking about the chambers.

He let her slip from his body. Her boots hit a worn
blue-braided rug in the middle of the room. “Your room, madam.”

His hands seemed to linger on her waist a little longer
than need be, as if he were assessing her health. The mere touch of his fingers
caused a sudden burst of sparks in the pit of her stomach.

She looked up to meet his gaze and blinked in surprise
as his lips curled into a frown.

He hastily stepped away. “You have hot water for your
bath.” 

He pointed to the steaming tub in the corner of the room.
She nodded and bent down to place the birdcage onto the floor. He seemed so
formal now, it was hard to believe that he was the same man who had protected
her from the vultures downstairs.

“And a warm bed to sleep in,” he continued, clearing his
throat. “I’ll be seeing you in the morning. If you need anything else, I will
be in the next room.” 

He turned on his heels to leave and glanced over his
shoulders. “Good night
–
”

It was obvious he didn’t know her entire name, and she
had no intention in giving it to him. Formality was the least of her worries
now.

“Kate,” she smiled, vexing him. “My name is Kate.” 

And that was about all she was willing to tell him
tonight. Because if Matthew ever discovered her whereabouts this evening, it
would be the end of her traveling. No, it was better for the gentleman to call
her Kate, however inappropriate it may be.

But what about him? He was an earl, she knew that much
from the proprietor. But his name? Did he know her uncle? She opened her mouth
to speak, but heard him clear his throat again. Perhaps he had taken a chill.

“Do not even think of going downstairs or outside your
chambers without me.” It was not a suggestion. It was a command.

She threw her hands to her hips in outrage, her eyebrows
lifting in surprise. First Matthew, now him? Enough was enough.   

“What
gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot do?” 

His
gaze widened in disbelief that she would dare to question him. “You would do
best to heed my warning,
Kate
. Beyond these walls exist those who would
delight in seeing you alone.” He looked her over, his lips thinning into a
disapproving line.

Kate dropped her jaw in shock at his outlandish survey
of her person. Well, she might look helpless in her disheveled state, but
Katherine Josephine Wilcox knew what was what when the vultures were circling
their prey. She was no addlepated ninny.

“Lock this room as soon as I leave,” he said, and before
she knew it, he had slammed the door behind him and was gone.

Kate snapped her mouth closed. The gall of the man. He
had no right to order her around. He was only a man. An earl, yet a plain,
ordinary man. But a man who made her heart jump out of her chest every time he
touched her. A man who, with just one dart of his emerald gaze, sent her blood
pumping. A very handsome man! 

She shook her head. Heaven help her. Her brain was
becoming mush. That was the only way she could account for the strange feelings
stirring inside her. Pure mush.

In the adjacent bedchamber, Tristan jerked off his
Hessians and let them drop to rug. It was quite a task without his valet, but
he had mastered it. Since this was a secret rendezvous, he had left his man at
home.

He rolled his tired shoulders, took off his jacket, and loosened
his cravat and shirt. Sinking into the chair beside the bed, he raised his
tired legs, resting them on the mattress.

His foot throbbed from the weather and most assuredly
from that swift kick he received a bit earlier. It was if the girl had known
exactly where his Achilles’ heel was and had smacked it for all it was worth. Pushing
away the pain, he concentrated on his missed rendezvous with Harold Fletcher. For
some odd reason the man had never showed.

Disgusted, Tristan leaned back and gazed up at the
peeling, yellow ceiling. He could not have been mistaken about the time and
place of the appointment. The diamond was still in England. He could feel it in
his bones. Something must have gone wrong. Perhaps Andrews would be able to
find some information about Fletcher.

His thoughts immediately lingered back to the waif in
the neighboring room. Her kindness with the dog was foolish, but it had touched
him. He’d thought that type of tenderness came only from angels.