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Authors: Carrie Brock

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BOOK: Heart of the Diamond
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Help
your father?” Teddy practically sneered. “I had thought him more prone to leap at Jonathon's throat like a rabid dog.”

“We have found the earl to be a gentleman, and I am certain Nicole would prefer you desist in maligning him.” Angelica's voice could have frozen a red-hot coal.

Nicki touched Teddy's arm gently, but he flinched away, leaving her looking the fool with her hand hovering in the space between them. Embarrassed and wounded, she clenched her fist to hide the trembling of her fingers and dropped her hand to her side.

“Please, Teddy. We can talk later, after you have rested.”

Angelica nodded curtly. “I think that is an excellent idea. I am certain you would not want to say something you might regret, Theodore.”

He squared his shoulders as he stared at Nicki. Something he saw in her face seemed to penetrate the heat of his anger and he managed a slight smile. “I beg your forgiveness, Nick. What has happened between Blake Dylan and myself doesn't concern you. I had only hoped . . . ” He sighed and forced a brightness into his features. “No matter. What's done is done.”

The words sliced through her, rubbing the salty sting of guilt into her fresh wounds. Rosewood. Because of Blake, Teddy had no home. She tried to speak, but emotion rose in her throat to cut off her voice. As she looked up at him, she struggled to maintain some control, but tears slipped from her eyes to rush down her cheeks.

“This has gone far enough. Nicole, you have had an exhausting day and I want you to go straight upstairs and lie down. Theodore,
I
shall show you to your room. When we all gather tonight for dinner, I expect there will be no recurrence of what has just happened. You, sir, are a man and I am certain it cannot have eluded your notice that Nicole is a woman full grown. She reached marriageable age four years ago, but you choose now to arrive on the scene and play the injured suitor. I think it is entirely inappropriate. Normally, I would not be so forthright, but I have known you a very long time. I had thought you would show better regard for Nicole's feelings.”

Stunned by Angelica's display, Nicki glanced to Teddy. His face showed the same surprise she was certain hers revealed. “Angelica, I . . . There is no need to roast Teddy. He is understandably upset. I only hope our friendship is not lost forever.”

The old Teddy returned in the flash of a boyish smile. “We shall
always
have a special relationship, Nick, no matter what happens. Angelica's right. I was behaving like a—well, like a jealous suitor. Forgive me?”

Eagerly, Nicki returned his smile and wiped away her tears. Perhaps all would work out after all. “There is nothing to forgive.”

“Upstairs at once, Nicole.” Angelica slipped her arm through Teddy's. “I do not want you tiring yourself further.”

Looking from Angelica to Teddy, Nicki's heart lifted. “Later, then,” she whispered, and hurried from the room.

At the foot of the staircase, Nicki glanced back. Angelica appeared to have begun another tirade without her stepdaughter's audience. Nicki turned and continued up the stairs to the landing. A tightness filled her chest.

In all the years of living with her father's wife, she could not remember the woman leaping to her defense. In the parlor just now, Angelica had behaved . . . like a mother.

. . .

Blake hooked the entry door with one booted foot and kicked it shut. Silver rattled as Chester cut off a cry of surprise and with amazing presence, shifted the tray he held slightly to keep the contents from splattering across the gleaming marble floor.

“My lord! Good afternoon. If you will pardon me for just one moment I shall dispense with this and retrieve your supper from the kitchen.”

Blake tugged his gloves off and tossed them onto the narrow entry table with his hat. The multi-caped cloak was draped over a nearby side chair. “Do not trouble yourself, Chester. I stuffed myself on tea and cakes at the Billingtons and as a result I am feeling quite out of sorts.”

“Cook has a wonderful potion for indigestion, sir. I shall have her prepare one for you.”

“That would be good, Chester.”

Blake moved toward the entrance to the library. Obviously unsettled, Chester continued to hover in the doorway. “Sir . . . ?”

“Yes?”

The butler turned to set the tray on a chair, the lapse in decorum testimony to the extent of his discomfit. Blake eyed the abandoned tray, then returned his gaze to the older man.

“As you know, I have been employed by the Bartholomews since I was seventeen years of age. I watched Master Theodore grow to manhood.” Chester swallowed with his entire body. “I am deeply in your debt for keeping me on, with my family, when you could have tossed us all out and brought in your own staff.”

“That was not entirely unselfish of me, Chester, but I accept your gratitude. Let nothing more be said on the subject.”

“I . . . I must confess that Master Theodore was here—this morning.”

Blake's attention sharpened. “Oh? And did he give reason for such an honor?”

“He wanted to see you, but you were at the Duke of Billington's residence, of course.”

“Of course.”

“He asked after my welfare, and the wife, and my girls—you know, that sort of thing.”

Blake refrained from calling Chester's attention to the fact that Master Theodore had left Chester and his family to care for Rosewood without pay for more than six years, and that Blake had made up their lost wages as well as increasing their meager salaries upon his arrival.

“Very noble.”

Chester nodded. “Master Theodore always had a soft heart.”

“Is there some point you wish to make, Chester?”

“He asked me about you. I said you were a generous employer and not prone to odd habits—until Lady Nicki.”

Blake scowled at that pronouncement. “You told him about Lady Langley?”

“Of course not, sir! That was merely an afterthought just now.”

“I do not wish Theodore Bartholomew to know anything about what has transpired between Lady Nicole and myself.”

Color stained Chester's pale face and his body went rigid. “I would not presume to . . . to gossip, my lord!”

“I should have known that, Chester. Excuse my interruption, I believe you were coming to a point.”

The butler sniffed, straightening the immaculate lapels of his dark jacket. “He asked to see you and I said you were not at home. He then asked me where you were, and I informed him you had gone to Langley Hall. I had barely spoken the words before he rushed out the door. It was wrong of me to reveal your whereabouts. I hope my indiscretion did not cause you any distress. Master Theodore has ever been one for theatrics and the moment I told him, I knew I had done the wrong thing. If you wish me to leave your employ at once, I shall not blame you, sir.”

Blake considered the speech for a long moment, his thoughts pausing on Teddy's reaction. After a moment he became aware of the butler's labored breathing. “You did nothing wrong, Chester. I would not turn out a man and his family over such an insignificant trifle. Do you understand?”

A sheen of moisture sprouted in the man's faded blue eyes. “Thank you, my lord. And might I say it is an honor to be in your employ.”

“Now that we have shared our mutual admiration of each other, I would greatly appreciate that remedy of your wife's. I have not felt like this since I was a boy and ate a half dozen green apples.”

Chester's eyes sparkled, but his facade of reserve remained securely in place. “Right away, sir.”

Inside the library, a fire crackled cheerfully in the grate, the light of the flames reflecting off the rich oak paneling. The warmth drew Blake over the hardwood floor, on to the woven rug of browns and blacks, around the leather settee to the hearth where he dropped into an overstuffed chair upholstered in brown leather. Blake extended his feet toward the fire and crossed his legs at the ankle. For a moment, he stared at the red flames over the toe of one boot. Damn but his head hurt, and his stomach felt as though it was a caldron over a searing hot stove.

Teddy Bartholomew was in England.

All in all, what had started out as a pleasant day had turned into a deucedly disagreeable experience. Unbidden, a vision rose before him of Nicki throwing herself with reckless abandon into Teddy's arms.

Rage flared inside him. He clenched his fists. If he had acted on his first inclination, he would have jerked his fiancé away from the man and planted him a facer. The only problem with that plan of action would have been Nicki's response. Much as he disliked the fact, she adored the insolent popinjay, and if Blake had rendered him unconscious she undoubtedly would have been irate.

Still, it might have been worth her anger. No. Teddy already possessed too large a portion of Nicki's sympathy. Why could she not see how little the man deserved her loyalty?

And what about his own actions over the past years? Because of him, her family stood on the brink of destitution. What made him think he had any claim to her devotion just because he had become her fiancé?

He recalled the sweetness of her mouth, the freshness of her scent that surrounded him, enveloped him as her body pressed against his. Innocence combined with her adventurous nature lent a boldness to her behavior Blake found irresistible. He would do whatever necessary to experience her passion again and again.

Damn Bartholomew's interference.

So quickly had come the longing for more of her. Did a man ever tire of such breathtaking freshness?

“Lord Diamond, you have a visitor.”

Blake rubbed his forehead. “Who is it, Chester?”

“Teddy Bartholomew,” came the reply from behind his servant.

He stiffened at the familiar voice and moved his hand down his face as though to wipe away any emotion that might linger. Blake stood and turned to the door. “Do come in.”

Chester glanced from one face to the other, the master of his past and that of his present. His gaze returned to Blake, somber. “I will be along shortly with your tea, sir.”

“Very good, Chester. Would you care for anything, Ted?” Blake moved to the desk so his back would be to the window.

“Something a little stronger, I think.”

Blake nodded. “I can take care of that. Thank you, Chester.”

The butler closed the door and Teddy moved further into the room. His gaze casually swept his surroundings. “You haven't changed much about the place.”

“The house suits me as it is.” He narrowed his gaze. “Did you come here to investigate my taste in decorating, or did you not get enough of my company earlier today?”

Teddy's amber eyes glittered, even as his mouth spread into a mirthless grin. “Ah, the gloves come off. No polite chit-chat.”

“Has there ever been such between us?” Blake crossed his arms over his chest and backed away a step to lean a hip against the edge of his desk.

“No, I suppose not. After you left the Hall, I learned you and Nicki have become engaged. I cannot believe you followed through with the threats you made against me in America. What can you possibly expect to gain by terrorizing an innocent girl?”

Blake's stomach churned with fury, but he had trained himself to hold his emotions in check. Despite his control, a muscle in his jaw flinched. “Nicole is no longer your affair.”

“That's where you're wrong.” Teddy slapped his leather gloves against his thigh. “I've known her too long to stand by and let you destroy her.”

“What makes you so certain my goal is to harm her?”

With exaggerated slowness, Teddy strolled toward Blake, his expression belying his casual movements. “She's Jonathon Langley's daughter and the woman I intended to make my wife. No more need be said.”

Shifting his hips slightly, Blake positioned one thigh on the corner of the desk and allowed his foot to rock casually. Frustration, anger, uncertainty. Emotions battled their way across Bartholomew's face.

“It was your description of her that brought me here.” That struck a nerve and Teddy's color deepened. “She is everything you said she would be—and much more.”

“Damn you, you've gone too far in your quest for revenge! Nicki shouldn't suffer for something she knows nothing of. You surprise even me that you would go to these extremes.”

Blake stood and strode to the fire. “That is something, I suppose—to surprise you.” Taking up the iron poker he stabbed at the coals until sparks spewed forth. “I had assumed little could take you unawares.”

“She's special, Blake, and she doesn't deserve your cruelty. I never would have told you about her if I had known you would do this!”

Heat from the flames warmed Blake's face like tiny rays of sunlight, contrasting with the coldness that had encased his heart for so long. “You are so certain I have no fondness for her. It seems once again you have underestimated me.” He turned from the fire, his face so stiff with tension. “You have come on a fool's mission, Bartholomew. I will not turn from the course I have plotted. The marital contracts have been signed and within the fortnight I shall take Nicole for my wife.”

It was as though Teddy was the one next to the fire, as high color splotched his fair skin. “We'll see whose wife she becomes. Nicki's not stupid—she'll see through you before long.”

Bitterness flowed through Blake. He welcomed it, allowed it to seep into his smile. “She never saw through you.”

Lips compressed, face suddenly pale, Teddy clenched his fists and spun on his heel. He strode to the door and jerked it open. Just outside the entrance, Chester attempted to sidestep out of the way, but Teddy's arm glanced off the tray he carried, almost upending it. Seconds later the front door slammed.

Blake sighed deeply and jammed his fingers through his hair. He had lost control. It was a mistake he could not afford to repeat.

His expression was carefully benign as Chester stepped into the library.

“Your tea, sir.”

A sharp pain arced through Blake's stomach. “Just in time, Chester. Thus far I have found my return to England extremely hard on the nerves.”

“Might I be of some assistance, my lord?”

Blake glowered as he lifted the cup of steaming liquid from the tray. “You may be the only commonsensical person in my life at this moment, Chester. If you can maintain your wits about you with everyone else losing theirs, that will be enough for me.”

BOOK: Heart of the Diamond
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