Once Upon a Diamond (6 page)

He must have been daft when he caught a whiff of lavender
floating past her wet cloak. When he had eyed her body from head to toe,
holding her as if she were his, he realized he was a bit more than daft. He was
deranged. She was only a child.  

His brows drew together as he recalled those doe eyes
that had disappeared into her cloak, refusing to surface. A surge of
protectiveness had flowed through him when he’d first seen her in the rain. As
for the storm outside, it seemed to have stopped, leaving the moon glowing like
a dazzling silver ball in the darkened sky.

He glanced at the wall beside him, knowing that at least
she would be safe until morning. But what the devil had she been doing out on a
night like this? And alone? 

The corners of his mouth curled upward into a slow,
satisfying smile. One thing for certain, the chit didn’t take orders very well,
from him or anybody. The man who eventually wooed her would be in for a sorry
surprise indeed.

He wondered if the girl had locked her door. Yes, of
course, she had. She may be ill, but she wasn’t stupid. He recalled her
flashing brown eyes and let out an amused sigh.

Within seconds, he began to drift asleep, oblivious to the
man prowling outside his room, sliding a beefy hand over the glint of steel at
his hip in search of his prey.

Chapter Four

K
ate was
almost asleep when she heard the floorboards creak beside her bed. She forgot
to lock her door, she repeated to herself.
Dear Lord, help her! She forgot
to lock her door!

Her eyes
snapped open and her heart beat wildly as her gaze locked on the shadowy figure
hovering over her bed. Before she could scream, a cold hand crushed over her
mouth.  

“Where’s the earl, sweet thing? I know he was with you
tonight.” 

Kate’s eyes widened in horror at the metal that flashed
in the moonlight.

Lock your door as soon as I leave.
The earl’s last words to her banged against her brain
as strong fingers squeezed her cheeks and the sharp point of a knife pricked
against her skin.

The ludicrous thought came to her that if this man
didn’t kill her, Matthew surely would for putting herself in this horrid
situation.

“Where is he?” the man growled. “His lordship. Where is
he?”

The earl? He wanted the earl? She was slowly beginning
to gather her wits.

“Be a good little gel and I’ll be treating you real nice.
I’m gonna let you go, and I ain’t wanting you to scream or I’ll be slicing that
smooth white neck of yours with one whack of me blade. Understand?”

Kate nodded, inhaling the bitter smell of spirits.

“There’s a good chit.” His hand released its death grip
on her mouth, and she let out a gasp.

“Now, tell me where his lordship is, and maybe after I’m
done with this little job, I’ll be coming back here to teach you a few things.”
His grimy hand slid across her neck in a hideous caress.

Kate’s skin crawled with fear as she stared back into a
pair of dark beady eyes. Eyes that reminded her of a weasel back home that had
been caught stealing eggs from the chicken coop. Fearless eyes. Eyes that could
kill without a thought, then move on to its next victim.

“I d-don’t know where he is.”

The man burst forth with an eerie snarl. A vile heat
washed through Kate. With all her heart, she wished she had followed her
brother’s orders and taken Mrs. Hollingsworth along with her as chaperone.
I’m
sorry, Matthew. Forgive me.

“Don’t lie to me, wench. I seen his lordship carry you
out of the tap. He’s coming back. I ain’t that stupid.”

Alarmed,
Kate noted the man’s hand tighten on the heel of the dagger. With the other
hand, he whipped the quilt off her bed and greedily eyed her body.

“You’re
a skinny one, you are, but he’ll be back. He’s a man, ain’t he?” His chuckle
sounded like the gates of hell swinging open to meet her. “They all come back.”

“I
d-don’t know the earl. I j-just met him. He gave me this room for the night. H-he
felt sorry for me.”

The man’s raucous laugh slammed into her ears. “And I’m
the King of England, missy. Blimey, he ain’t sorry for you. What a stupid
wench.” 

He leaned over and grabbed a fist full of hair, yanking
her close. “But sometimes those are the best kind. Know what I mean?”

A climbing anger slowly began to overtake the fear
lodging in Kate’s throat.
Stupid wench!
 

As soon as the man let go of her hair and leaned down to
press his slimy lips against her neck, Kate grabbed the unlit lantern on the
nightstand beside her and whacked it against the intruder’s head.

Terror filled her as the lamp glanced off the man’s body
like a child’s ball bouncing off a brick wall. She barely moved from her position
when he grabbed hold of her hair, cursing a blue streak.

“Now ye’ve done it, wench. Now I’m going to have to hurt
you.”

As
the blade came swooping down, Kate reared back into her pillow, pure horror
twisting her heart. A quick prayer flew through her mind, and again she scolded
herself, hoping Matthew would forgive her stupid decision of venturing into the
English countryside alone.

Next door, Tristan awakened at the sound of a loud thump.
He swung his feet off the mattress and pushed himself out of the chair. Probably
some drunk making his way up the stairs, he thought. Cursing like a sailor too.

Tristan rotated his neck, realizing he hadn’t made it to
bed at all. How long had he been sleeping in that blasted chair? 

Another thump.

He shifted his gaze toward the wall separating him and
the girl. Devil take it, he hoped the little termagant hadn’t gone against his
orders and left her room unlocked. There had been some unsavory characters
loitering about the taproom, staring at her as if she were the last plum
pudding for Christmas.

He admitted the chit wasn’t much to look at, but she was
a lone female, which made her fair pickings for any male in the vicinity.

He cursed beneath his breath. He thought he’d made it
clear to everyone in the tap that he was her protector. But knowing Kate for
only those few minutes, he guessed she had probably gone after that mangy dog. Dash
it all.

Tristan didn’t know why the hell he cared, but there was
something innocent about her that set his nerves on edge.

She was under his protection now, and if she wished to
disobey him, she best do it without him watching over her. He ought to slap
that little bottom of hers and set her straight on that account at least. The
girl seemed to need a firm hand somewhere in her life.

Gritting his teeth against what he would find, he hastened
into the hall and stomped toward her door. It was open a crack. Stupid chit! 
He had told her to lock it. Even if she went for that mangy beast downstairs.

But was Handsome in there? The dog would have barked at
his presence in the hall.

There was the rustling of covers, and he clenched his
teeth. Could the chit truly have invited one of those men into her room? Was
she meeting someone here?

A part of his heart began to harden again. Good riddance
then. He didn’t need another interfering female in his life.

Low voices drifted into the hall, and he uttered a low
curse. Perhaps she had been waiting for someone all along, and he had fallen
into her nice little trap, paying for her meal and her bedchamber. Confounded female.
He should never have helped her.

He spun on his feet, ready to return to his room, but
halted when a deep growl penetrated his brain. It wasn’t a sensuous growl. It
was a low, hideous snarl like that of a wolf springing for the kill.

“Listen here, chit. You ain’t fooling me. You’re going to
tell me where his lordship is or I’m going to slit your pretty neck. Talk.”

In two quick strides, Tristan was at Kate’s door,
gripping the handle and easing it open. He peered inside. A bright moonbeam
fanned through the window. His heart locked up when he observed a giant
hovering over an angel dressed in white. A flash of metal winked against Kate’s
long slim neck. Tristan stiffened as the point of the knife pushed against her
skin.

“Go ahead and slit my throat. I’ll not let you put your
filthy hands on anyone else. Y-you monster!”

A fire erupted in Tristan’s stomach. Devil take it. The
stubborn chit was defending him.

“You deuced well will tell me, wench.”

“Looking for me, my man.” 

The intruder spun around, pulling his knife off Kate as Tristan
strode into the room.

“Ah, his mighty lordship has returned.”

Tristan’s eyes glittered. “Then I did hear correctly. You
looking for me?”

“Funny thing, ain’t it? I was wanting to see your
lordship, and here ye are.” The knife rose in the air as the intruder stalked
forward.

Kate gasped. “Stop it!  Stop it right now!”

Tristan’s stomach jumped in fear when he saw the girl
scramble toward the end of the bed, as if she were going to step between the
giant and him. “Stay put, Kate!”

The giant chuckled. “Ah, so her name’s Kate, now, is it?
You work fast, yer lordship. But thank you all the same. Does help a man when
he knows the chit’s name. If you know what I mean.” 

Tristan’s mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile. “Oh, I
know exactly what you mean, and I fear, dear man, that you will have to go
through me to get to her.”

“But that’s me plan, yer lordship. Upon my soul, black
though it is, you’re almost as stupid as the wench here. Why, this is going to
be easier than I thought. You first, then Katie here.”

Tristan’s blood sizzled with rage. The thought of the
man touching Kate barely kept him in check. But because it was her safety he
was concerned about, he waited in strained silence for the man to make the next
move.

“So you think you could best me, eh?” the giant said
with a sneer.

Tristan’s work in reconnaissance had trained him well. But
Kate was too close for him to try hand to hand combat. Fighting the intruder,
man to man, as if they were in Gentleman Jackson’s boxing ring was his last
resort. He had to make certain the knife was not in her vicinity. There would
be one chance to get the man off his feet and that was by pulling the rug from
beneath him.    

In the glow of the moon, the man’s shadow fell upon
Kate’s small form. Tristan bent his knees, keeping his eyes fixed on the giant
coming toward him. His muscles grew taut as Kate hovered at the edge of the bed.

Before the massive intruder had another second to move, Tristan
dropped to the floor and yanked the rug. The giant fell with a thud. There was
a low groan, and Tristan sprung over the fallen man.

“B
–
blimey,”
the ruffian muttered, “fell on me own knife. W-wasn’t supposed to be like
th-this.” The man gave one last gasp and breathed his last.

Tristan turned the body over. Even in the moonlight that
was suddenly smothered by a veil of clouds, he could see the knife protruding
from the man’s chest. Something wet and sticky spilled over his hand. Blood.

“Is he dead?” Kate’s ragged voice whispered over his
shoulder.

Tristan raised his gaze, more concerned for her then the
intruder. “Yes. Don’t look.”

Kate stood away from the bed, her blond hair tumbling
down her back, a thin white nightgown clinging to her delicate form.

She appeared so frail, Tristan’s gut twisted as she eyed
the blood on his hands. “Turn away,” he said, but it was too late.

The clouds suddenly shifted, allowing the moon’s beams to
spill onto the scene like a bright white light. Pools of dark red blood flooded
the rug. Kate’s eyes widened in horror as she threw her hand to her mouth. Her
bottom lip trembled along with her legs.

Before Tristan could respond, his little defender lay in
a small heap on the floor, her white gown encompassing her like an angel of
mercy.

He knelt down, wiped the blood from his hands on the
nearby coverlet, and took her face in his hands. He noted the thick dark lashes
that fell across her cheeks. Innocent, soft, pale cheeks. Two white feet peeked
out from her gown, and he grimaced. A part of him knew instinctively that this
little female would not have swooned had she been in better health.

His heart screamed with the injustice of it all. She
shouldn’t have been subjected to this. She had refused to tell the thief where
he was. That, in itself, deserved a loyalty that Tristan gave out sparingly.

The clouds shifted again, darkening the room in a
forbidding blackness. An intense emotion swept through Tristan as he scooped
Kate’s body into his arms. It was fear, he realized. Fear for her.

He took one last look at the dead man and carried Kate
to his chambers next door. His mind raced with unanswered questions.

Was the man looking for the diamond? Did he think Tristan
had it? Was the man working for the sympathizers or was he a thief? The
questions hammered at his brain, making him even more determined to secure the
diamond for England.

Cursing to himself, Tristan tucked Kate into his bed and
returned to her chambers.

Two hours later, the magistrate, Lord Hemly, a friend of
Tristan’s, closed the case and said it was a matter of a simple accident, a
thief falling on his own knife. The affair was closed and the proprietor was to
keep quiet about the entire incident if he wanted more business.

Thoroughly embarrassed by the incident, the proprietor
offered Tristan free lodging for the night. Almost ready to toss the pudgy man
out the window, Tristan accepted, wanting to return to Kate as soon as possible.
At this point, he didn’t even trust the servants.

After the owner departed, Tristan grabbed Kate’s trunks,
along with the parrot, and moved everything to his chambers. The less everyone
knew the better. It had been fortuitous that Lord Hemly had worked with him in
reconnaissance during the war, or there might have been more questions.

Tristan stilled as he dropped his gaze to the small
figure on his bed. The scrap of a girl had been ready to die for him. And she
would have died if he had not arrived in time.

Hemly and the proprietor had informed Tristan that one
of the servant girls had been found strangled to death in her attic chamber
only minutes ago. Hemly had blamed that on the intruder as well, but Tristan
wondered if the diamond had played a part in the night’s ghastly entertainment.
Was the gem cursed after all?