Once Upon a Diamond (7 page)

Nevertheless, that evening Tristan rested on the chair
beside Kate’s bed, wondering who in his right mind would let a frail, young
female travel the country with no escort? 

And what the hell was she doing out on a night like
this? Where was her family, if she had one? Where was she going with all her
trunks and that stupid parrot? And what the devil was she doing in England? 

He figured she was from America. With a heavy sigh, he
took in her heart-shaped face and petite form. She could be a beauty if she
ever filled out. But that temper of hers was something to be desired or cursed.
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out which.

He rubbed a hand across his jaw. He had come to the inn
to obtain a precious diamond, but instead he stationed himself in the middle of
the night to stand guard over an angel and a parrot.

“A young angel and a big mouth bird at that,” he mumbled,
closing his eyes. What the hell was he supposed to do with the girl now? 

As the warmth of the morning sun filled the room, Kate
awakened to the sight of two brown stocking feet comfortably positioned at the
end of her bed. Fear coiled in her throat as she continued her steadfast gaze
up the tightly fitted breeches, outlining a pair of well-muscled legs that led
to a massive chest and a set of powerful shoulders.

Her mouth went dry as the horror of the night came back
to her. Matthew would have a fit if he ever found out about a man being in her
room, not to mention that she had almost been killed the previous evening.   

She hastened toward the dressing screen and whipped a
fresh gown over her head. A frown marred her brow as she inspected her body. The
gown sagged as if it were three sizes too big.

Brushing her hair, she swept her tresses high on her
head and tied everything into a tight knot. She gazed into the looking glass. It
was not a flattering hairstyle, emphasizing her sunken eyes and pale features,
but it would have to do.

She hurried back to the bed and guessed that the earl
must have slept beside her all night. She sat and stared. The man’s raven black
hair was tousled about his head, giving him a boyish appearance, which was a
sharp contrast to the man’s authoritative personality. The shadow of a black
beard blanketed his finely sculpted jaw. A white shirt was stretched tight
against a set of shoulders that seemed to hold a load of responsibility and
power.

The man was tall, dark, and handsome, everything a
female would want, even that strumpet named Maggie. But not Kate. Oh, no. This
earl was too much of everything, and that scared her.

He was a man who would not let her have her way. He was
a man who gave orders and expected them to be carried out immediately. And he
had saved her life! Or was it all a dream? 

She regarded his long legs, and her lips twisted when
she noticed a hole in his stocking the size of her thumb tip. His valet would
have a fit. But this man was real, and so was last night.   

“See something interesting?” The earl’s husky whisper
drew her gaze to his face.

She swallowed and looked over his shoulder, anywhere but
those knowing green eyes. “Good morning.”

“Good morning?” he asked as he pulled his feet off the
bed, and rolled his shoulders.

“
Good
morning?” His gruff tone sent chills
through her as he repeated his reply.

She twisted the bed linens in her hands. This man was a
stranger, and he was in her bedchamber early in the morning. She felt exhausted
and weak. Her voice was still raspy from her journey when she spoke to his feet.
“I pray you slept well.”   

 “As well as can be expected.” He paused while a
crackling tension lingered between them. “That is, under the circumstances. Do
you remember what happened?”

She bit her lips and looked up. Yes, but she didn’t want
to remember.
She instantly recalled the blood glittering in the
moonlight.   

She
ignored his pointed look and rose from the bed. Her mind hummed with denial.
“I’m famished. Shall we take breakfast now?”

“The man’s dead,” he said softly, trying to coax her to
talk about last night. But Kate wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

The
man’s dead.

A
host of hot tears began to burn the back of her eyes. She twirled a finger
around a stray lock of hair and turned to stare out the window.
Dead.
Matthew
had repeated the same word months ago, but it meant something altogether
different.

Swallowing
hard, she ignored the shuffle of feet behind her and straightened her shoulders.
She needed to put everything behind her and proceed to Ridgewater Manor as soon
as possible. Yes, that was the best thing to do right now.

“I
smell fresh bread weaving its way up the stairs,” she said, pushing away
thoughts of yesterday. “My voyage has been quite tedious. I am certain a good
meal would give me
–
”

“Kate.” 

Strong hands rested upon her shoulders, and she felt her
steadfast determination break. She pressed her trembling hands to her cheeks.

“Do you remember anything?” His voice was filled with
concern.

Of
course, she remembered everything. The knife. The blood! No. No. No! She didn’t
want to remember!

She
knew he was speaking to her again, but she didn’t hear him. She didn’t want to.
She put her hands to her ears and tried to shake out of his hold. But his iron
grip refused to release her.

“Kate.
Look at me.” He gently turned her around to face him. The earl’s emerald green
eyes flooded with tenderness. “He wanted me, not you, and now he’s dead.” 

She
blinked back a host of hot tears, feeling drained and hollow from the
tumultuous night and the horrid journey. “H-he wanted to know where you were,
b-but I didn’t tell him.”

He took his thumb and brushed away her tears, drawing
her body against his. “I know. You were very brave. But I can fight my own
battles, sweetheart.”

Something broke inside her. She swallowed, bunching her
hands against his chest. “I keep seeing his eyes staring back at me.” 

The sobs came now, spilling onto his shirt. She had
never seen a man killed before, and the knowledge of what had happened last
night was burned into her memory forever. “It was as if I killed him.”

“You didn’t kill him. I’d give anything to take back
last night and save you from this horror. The man fell on his own knife.” 

He lifted her chin in his hands, sending a shiver through
her. “If you recall, he was the one with the weapon, not us, and he did
threaten you.” 

His face seemed to harden suddenly, and she brushed away
her tears with the back of her hand, taking a step back, humiliated at her
outburst. “Yes. He did have a knife. I th-thought he was going to kill you. But
he never had a chance, did he?”

A wry smile twitched at the corner of the earl’s lips as
he lightly grasped her shoulders again. His breath was warm against her face,
and her body tingled from his nearness. “No, he didn’t have a chance. But I
didn’t want you hurt in the process.”

She was surprised by the gentleness in his tone, and if
not for her distressed mood, she would have sworn he was moving his face to
kiss her, but that was insane. She jerked back another step, realizing what a
fool she was making of herself, and tried to change the subject.

“What do you think he wanted?”

He stared at her long and hard before he answered. “Money
perhaps.”

“Perhaps. But he knew you were an earl. He was looking
for you. All that trouble for a purse?” She shook her head. “No. What about
jewelry? A ring? A watch? Maybe he knew you were carrying something more than
money.”

When those green eyes darkened, Kate stiffened. So be it.
He didn’t want to talk about it either. Managing a thin smile, she ran her hand
across the parrot’s cage and lifted the yellow cover. It was amazing. The
fanatical bird had slept through everything.

“Breakfast?” she asked, glancing up at the earl.

“What?”

“Breakfast?” He looked preoccupied, and she wished she
knew what he was thinking. “We still need to eat, do we not?” 

 He stuffed a hand in his pocket and gave a stiff nod. “First,
I need to speak to the proprietor. Wait here until my return. I’ll only be a
few minutes.” 

He marched toward the door. “And don’t leave this room
until I come back for you. Not without an escort.” He peered over his
shoulders, his cool green eyes drilling into hers. “Understand?”

She patted some of the wrinkles out of her gown,
avoiding his steadfast gaze. Her emotions were spinning out of control. The
intruder’s death made her ill. The entire journey ahead of her made her wary. And
the handsome nobleman made her confused.  

 “I can manage on my own. But I do thank you for your
kindness.” She looked up, surprised to see his jaw visibly tense.

She could never tell him who she was of course. He
probably knew the duke. Oh, what a mess! She needed to proceed to her
destination quickly.

 “Well,” she said, rather perplexed, “if you must know, I
do need to be on my way as soon as possible.”  

“No! You cannot manage on your own!” His booming command
caused her to jump.

She blinked. “No?”

“No.” In two long strides he was beside her, his expression
tight and determined. “Give me your word you will not leave this room until I return.” 

Kate sensed that this was one battle she would not win. What
in the world was wrong with the man? “Oh, very well, but let me tell you
something, I have never
–
” 

He pointed a stiff finger at her, interrupting her like some
schoolteacher. “I had no wish to inform you of this, but a servant girl was
found strangled to death last night.”

Kate gasped. “I didn’t know.”

“So, as I see it, you will adhere to my rules. Do you
understand, young lady?”

“Rules?” Her eyes narrowed as she caught his meaning. This
was too much. “Who do you think you are telling me about rules?”

“You are under my protection now, whether you like it or
not, and you will do well to listen. A young female should never go about
without an escort. I don’t know what they do in America, but this is England. Do
we understand each other?” 

He raised that mocking black brow again, slammed the
door, and was gone before she could tell him a thing or two about understanding
each other.

“Well, what does he know about America anyway?” 

She stomped her foot and watched in awe as her parrot
shrugged its wings without saying a word.

A
t breakfast when
Kate’s temper had time to cool, she studied the handsome man across from her. A
strange spark of recognition skidded through her brain. Her manners had been
quite shocking the past twenty-four hours. She finally realized she needed to
introduce herself properly. Perhaps he would keep quiet about her stay at the
inn.

They were sitting at the same table from the previous
night. Sunlight spilled through the windows, falling across the few tables that
were occupied by some of the locals in the area. The room was warm and smelled
of fresh bread.

The low murmur of last night’s deaths made its way to
her ears, and she tried to eat as if nothing was wrong. But her stomach still
turned at the horrid memories.

And this handsome earl did nothing to quell her already
turbulent emotions.

“Handsome,” the earl suddenly uttered.

“Huh?” Kate dropped a piece of sausage onto her lap and
fumbled with a crumb of bread for her bird.

“Handsome is sleeping near the hearth.” The earl
gestured toward the fire. His eyes lit with amusement, as if he knew what she
had been thinking.

“Oh.” She blushed and turned her gaze toward the dog. “I
thought, well, never mind.” 

Feeling the heat creeping up her neck, she grabbed her cup
of hot chocolate and sipped. “Do you know that we have not been properly
introduced? I do not even know your name.”

He smiled. “Formality? After all we’ve been through?” 

She graced him with one of her best smiles and set down
her fork. “Indeed. I believe you have the advantage of me, sir.”

He
grinned, showing her a set of perfect white teeth that seemed to hold her in a
hypnotic trance. “Lord Lancewood at your service. Lancewood or even Tristan
would do.”  

Kate smiled sweetly. “Ah.” Good heavens, not that
Lancewood! Her heart beat double time. Now, she knew she was going to die.

She almost choked on her food. A wave of pure panic
swept through her. No! He could not be the same Tristan her cousin Devin knew. Not
the same boy she’d almost killed ten years ago? This man was much larger. Much
more...manly. Much more...everything! 

She grabbed her drink and gulped down the remainder of
the warm chocolate, then slowly lifted her gaze back toward the earl. His
father must have died for him to inherit the title.

For an instant, she felt sorry for the man. But that
feeling was immediately squelched when two curious emerald eyes returned her
stare, two familiar pools of sparkling green that had belonged to a teenage boy,
and now belonged to a man. A powerful, determined man.

She dropped her gaze to her plate. “Tristan, did you
say?” 

Again, as if second-guessing her thoughts, her lids
swept upward as she examined the emerald jewels more closely. He nodded. Her
fingers tensed beneath the table.

How could she have not known who he was? She must have
been daft last night. Yet being so sick and tired, and having had a man fall
dead at her feet, she probably had no notion half of what she was doing or seeing,
until now.

Though she had only seen her cousin’s friend once when
she had visited long ago, once had been quite enough. Of course, she had been a
child then.

She searched for something to say, but a small whisper,
sounding very much like her brother’s voice, invaded her conscience.
You
should have kept Mrs. Hollingsworth with you and gone straight to Ridgewater
Manor.

“Since I know you so well,” she paused, realizing the
situation was simply absurd, “I shall call you Tristan, if you don’t mind.” 

Good grief!
Tristan
was not proper at all. And
know him well? What was she thinking? She had almost killed him.

She fought the panic rising in her throat. She should
have never borrowed her cousin’s horse ten years ago. Never.

“Tristan. Lancewood. You have more courage than most men
I know, hence, you may call me anything you wish.”

He flashed her one of those heavenly grins, and she felt
as if she were going to die. He probably knew he would never see her again. Evidently
the man had no memory of her now, but would he later? It didn’t matter what
kind of courage she had shown last night.

What a fool she’d been! 

“Enjoying breakfast?” he asked.

She gave him another sweet, lying smile. “It’s heaven.” It
was hell! 

When he rose from his seat, she stiffened.

“I need to see if the road’s clear of the fallen tree. Finish
your breakfast. I won’t be a minute.”

She nodded. Take an entire lifetime!
“No need to
hurry. I will be quite all right.”
I think I’m going to die! 

She watched him take his leave, and her fingers shook as
she tightened her grip on her empty glass. It was a decade later. Who would
remember?

The mingled scents of horses and hay swirled in her head
as if it were yesterday.

Her father had been
seated in her aunt’s drawing room and peered over the daily paper when he saw
her run by. “Katherine Josephine, no wandering far, young lady.”

She skidded to a stop and hurried to her father’s side,
kissing his cheek. “Oh, I won’t go far, Papa. I’m only going to the stables. Do
you want me to stay with you?”

Robert’s eyes twinkled. “Why no, poppet. You run along. Don’t
worry about me.” 

“You don’t mind if I ride, do you, Papa?”

“Ride? You’ve been riding horses since you were four. I
suppose Devin has been corralled into chaperoning you. And his friend, Tristan,
eh? Go show those English boys what you’re made of, darling.”

She gave him a smile that reached from ear to ear. “I
will, Papa. Oh, I will!”

In fact, the only thing that had caught her eye since
she had been in England had been her cousin’s magnificent horse. The sleek,
black animal mesmerized her. And though the mere thought of mounting the tall
beast was laughable, the very notion of riding it was wonderful. Perhaps
England wasn’t so bad after all.

In the stables, she hid behind a stack of hay until the
groom left, then with only a bit of difficulty, she mounted the black beast,
which had already been saddled. She sat astride, laughing to herself. Devin
must have had plans. Too bad she was here first. He and that Tristan boy were
probably talking about girls again. They didn’t want to be her friend at all. They
thought she was a baby. Well, she would show them she didn’t need them at all.

She raced the horse as though a knight on a mission,
bursting past the stable doors and scattering everything in her path. She
missed seeing the two teenage boys walking toward the stables, their mouths
dropping open in shock.

Minutes later she spied a sparkling lake and dismounted.
After splashing cool water on her face and resting against a nearby boulder,
she jerked in surprise when two angry hands squeezed her shoulders. “Katherine
Wilcox, you’ve gone too far this time. Too far indeed.”

Her heart lodged in her throat. “Devin!”

Without another word of warning, her cousin picked her
up and shook her. Pink ruffles and white lace circled the air as if she were a
flag flapping in the wind.

She let out a high-pitched scream that scattered the
birds from the tall oaks. “Let me go! You let me go! My Papa won’t like this!” She
kicked and shrieked to no avail. Devin was not about to let her down. His gaze
was so hot he could have melted ice as he glared at her.

“You little witch. My mother would have a bout of
apoplexy if she knew what you’ve done. Do you ever think of anyone but
yourself? What do you think you were doing?”

She flinched. She didn’t want Aunt Georgiana worrying. But
she wouldn’t admit anything to her cousin now. “I was riding a horse! What do
you think I was doing? Swimming?” 

She realized her error in speaking back to him almost
immediately.

“Do you know what could have happened to you?  You...you
could have been killed!”

Her chest began to ache. They didn’t understand. They
thought her some delicate girl who did nothing but play pianoforte, paint, and
drink tea in the nursery. After Mama had died, she didn’t want to do those girl
things anymore. She wanted to be like Papa and Matthew.

“Your father should take you over his knee,” Devin went
on. “He doesn’t need to lose you too, you know.”

Her father? She gulped. Fear clawed at her heart as her
cousin dangled her three feet above the ground. She was being rattled like a
toy and probably deserved it. Her father would probably do worse. He loved her,
but didn’t tolerate her dangerous stunts. She knew she would be twisting his
words around if she told the boys her father had said she could ride.

But drat it all. She had been bored. And the boys were
probably right in taking her to task. Yet she did have her pride after all.

Biting her lip, she cast a sideways glance at that Tristan
boy. Her eyes narrowed. He had a told-you-so grin on his face that she wanted
to slap off with a big ball of mud.

However she looked at it, she was in deep trouble. But within
seconds, a grand idea sprang to her brain. She would play possum. Yes. Why did
she not think of that before? She had tried it once with Matthew when he had scolded
her for playing with her father’s gun, and it had worked quite well.

She applauded her wonderful thinking with an inward
smile. Eyes closed, body limp, she bit her cheek, trying to stifle the giggle that
began to bubble its way up her throat.

“Katherine?” she heard Devin call to her as he settled
her wilted form onto the ground. It was working splendidly. Joy of joy, her
cousin’s voice held just the right amount of fear.

“Katherine, dash it all. Say something!”

Good. Mr. Lord Cousin was scared. He should be after the
way he rattled her. She did feel a bit guilty. Devin and his friend weren’t
that bad. But they thought her a baby, and that was unforgiveable. Her heart
skipped a beat when she heard footsteps beside her.

“Perhaps she’s dead, Devin. By George, perhaps you
killed the poor thing.”

“Jupiter, perhaps I did.”

Kate carefully cracked open one eye. That Tristan boy
was holding her head, and there was a dangerous glint in those devil-like eyes
that made her stomach churn. To her horror, he scooped her up as if she were a
sack of flour.

“Perhaps we should throw her into the lake.” His voice
echoed against the wind, and an icy chill began to spread through her. The
lake! 

“You know, Devin, if she isn’t dead, I have heard a
little shock to the body does wonders to wake one out of a stupor of this
sort.”

A stupor? What was that? Her stomached coiled at the
thought of being dumped in the lake.
She heard her cousin move to
her side.

“It
might help. But it would be best if you throw her only a short way, mind you. I
have no wish to get my clothes wet if I should have to retrieve her. Boots are
new. Bought them at Hoby’s.” 

Kate’s muscles tensed. Who cared what Mr. Hoby said
anyway? 

She winced when that boy holding her began moving faster
and faster, bouncing her up and down with every step. The sound of a boot
splashing in the cold lake water made her grimace. She pushed her hands against
his chest.

“Wait a minute! You put me down at once! At once, I say!”
She began to kick the air. “I am not dead!”

Good grief. The boy didn’t flinch.

“Not dead?” he said in surprise. “Why princess, you
could have fooled me?” 

A grin spread across his face as he set her on her feet,
away from the water. “But of course, milady, anything for a bit of pink fluff. Anything
at all.” He gave her a mocking bow while his black hair grazed her face.

Devin howled with laughter, falling to the ground and
slapping his fist against the earth in a hysterical frenzy. “Princess! Pink
fluff! Dash it, Trist! That was magnificent!”

Kate felt the blood rush to her head. She was mortified.
She stared at the impressive horse that stood beside the tree stump. She
squeezed her eyes tight and burst into tears.

Most boys hated tears. Even Matthew.

All laughing stopped abruptly. The two boys stared at
her in disbelief. She had been told that a true English gentleman never made a
female cry. It was bred into them at birth. She would take advantage of their
breeding and beat them at their own game.

“Now, look what you’ve done,” Devin spat as he turned to
Tristan. “You made her cry!”

Tristan paled. “Me? Why you were the one...never mind.” 

Frowning, he took a step forward and held Kate’s hand. “I
apologize, Katherine.” He used every form of regret he could think of to make
her stop weeping.

Inwardly smiling, Kate pulled him toward her desired
destination - the tree stump.

He was still mumbling apologies to her as she wiped her
tears with the back of her hand.