Heart of the Diamond (44 page)

Angelica nodded again. “You must first get some rest. We cannot have a bride with swollen eyes and dark circles beneath them.”

With one last shared smile, Angelica rose and left the room. Nicki rested her elbows on the top of the dressing table and dropped her face to her hands.

She dared not tell Angelica she would go to Blake now to make her peace. No matter that she knew Angelica had flaunted propriety as a youth. The woman would not allow her daughter the same carelessness. She could not risk her child suffering as she had.

Somehow, the thought made Nicki smile. One day, would she lecture her own daughter about the danger of climbing trees and riding without a hat? Probably. It seemed that was the way of love.

Blake brooded as he stared into the flames of the fire. He took a long swallow of claret. Neither the heat of the fire nor the burning of the liquor in his throat could reach the chill emanating from inside him. He had lost her. In the space of an evening he had lost Nicole—and he had done nothing to hold on to her. Weak protestations. What were they but excuses? He had known what she had wanted to hear.

His eyes burned, and he rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger. It was late, but there would be no sleep for him now. Loneliness yawned before him, more horrifying because he had opened his arms and welcomed it—embraced it like a pet who has been lost then found.

Sweet, trusting Nicole. So generous with the love that welled from her like a continuous spring of fresh, clear water. He craved that love. Gone was the child's need for the return of his mother, or the approval of his father. Blake wanted the love and devotion of one woman, and he had been unable to hold on to it—because he had not been able to tell Nicole he loved her.

Toasting the air with his glass, he swallowed the last of the dark liquid. Brave soul, to admit his feelings to himself here in the privacy of his study. Nicole said he should know the price of silence. God, she could see right into his heart, past all the carefully maintained aloofness, the anger and hate, the deception.

No one else had ever cared enough to brave his disdain and delve beneath the layers to reach what lay at the core of him. He had taken her for granted, smiled in patronizing amusement at her antics. But Nicole's outrageousness stemmed from a courage and strength of will he could not help but admire. She had offered him honesty and he had returned her trust with subterfuge.

She said he would have his answer soon. His hand tightened on the empty glass. He knew what her answer would be. Nicole, so honest herself, could never condone what she considered his duplicity. After all, what had he given her that was worth risking more pain?

Tonight her eyes had held an expression of such disillusionment when he told her he cared for her, that he wanted the marriage. She saw through him. In the face of her accusations he continued to maintain his distance—refused to offer anything of himself—and had most likely lost his chance for a future with her.

He stared at the toe of his boot, in his mind seeing Nicole's bright smile, eyes that mirrored her every emotion—and then the starkness in her gaze this evening, the tightness of her mouth. Ringing inside of him were her words, an echo through the emptiness:
I gave you my heart—risked everything I hold most dear. And you gave only what was safe.

He sat up, pressed the cool glass to his temple. Nicole possessed wisdom beyond her years. He had been a damn fool. What truly mattered? Revenge? Knowing Jonathon Langley and his family, Blake could only regret his past actions. Pride? Cowering here in the darkness with a bottle of claret seemed a paltry reward for maintaining his dignity.

The silence of the house pounded against his ears—quiet, though filled to bursting with people. Loneliness taunted him, teased him that he would always know only this hollow yearning. Even in the midst of a crowd he would be alone. His own fault. Nicole had given him ample opportunities to admit his feelings, to let go of the past—and he had rebuffed her at every turn.

With a deep sigh, he set the empty snifter on the floor. Since his return to England, Blake had learned of his mother's demise and realized his father's affection for him. Shining above all those discoveries was the love of a girl who had stumbled through his window one night searching for a hero. And she believed that hero existed inside of him.

More importantly perhaps, she made him believe it.

Out of the darkness of his soul blazed a crisp, clean light. To admit his love for Nicole was not to lose anything, for she had already given him back much of what he had lost. And more than that, she had brought to him a joy and an anticipation for the future he had never thought to experience. To allow that gift to go unrecognized would be the final death sentence for him.

Blake stood; pushed his hands through his hair. She had to listen to him. After hearing him out she could make her choice, but she would make it with the knowledge of his true feelings. If he still lost her, at least he would know he had put up a fight. Nicole Langley was just too great a prize to let slip away.

When he turned, a movement across the room caught his attention. A slender figure stood silhouetted between open French doors. His heart gave a leap. For the briefest instant, Blake thought the drink had gone to his head.

“See how respectable you have made me? Not only am I fully clothed, but I decided to use the door.”

Slowly, he moved around the bulky chair, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Not too respectable, I hope. I thought you perfect as you were.”

Nicole stepped into the room and reached up to push back the hood of her cloak. The dim light from the lamp on the desk touched her face and transformed her from wraith to flesh and blood.

She avoided his gaze and chose a path farthest from him to reach the fire. As she held her hands out to the blaze, Blake saw her fingers tremble.

With a sense of foreboding beating through his veins, he moved to close the doors. He took a fortifying breath and turned to Nicole. The fire snapped. She flinched in reaction. Her demeanor disturbed him. He studied her delicate profile, searched for the source of his angst. A wisp of pale hair brushed her cheek. She pushed it away absently. The familiar gesture set him somewhat more at ease. Blake ran his fingers through his own hair. Never had he been so nervous, not even when he first had stepped on American soil penniless and friendless.

He released his breath as he strode to the wing chair he had vacated moments before. He walked behind it and rested his elbows on the tall back. As though sensing his approach, she risked a furtive glance in his direction, still avoiding his eyes.

That was it. Up to this point, Nicole had never been fearful of him, yet now she stood like a terrified doe poised for flight.

“Blake, I . . . I came to tell you how sorry I am.”

If she had told him she was the queen of England, Blake could not have been more surprised. “And what have you to be sorry for, little Nicole?”

Turning to him, she raised her luminous gaze to his face. A spasm wrenched through his gut. Those tears sparkling in her eyes reflected a myriad of despair and regret. He knew what they meant.

He clenched his hands into fists, forced his breathing to remain even. Reaching deep into his soul, he grasped desperately for the protective facade that had stood him in good stead all his life. He found only a yawning stretch of emptiness.

So she expected him to stand here and listen calmly while she explained all the reasons she would not marry him. Damn it all, he would not let her go.

Nicole wiped at her cheeks, made a valiant attempt at a smile, and failed miserably. “You trusted me to believe in you. I let that belief slip for an instant. Can you ever forgive me?”

Stunned, he could only stare. Forgive
her?

A hesitant step, she stopped. Her gaze evaded his once again. Her struggle to maintain control played across the expressiveness of her face. “I know . . . I know how badly I hurt you. There are things about me I have not told you, have never told anyone. Until tonight. These feelings inside me took control when Teddy told me about—everything.” She fastened her gaze on the dark green carpeting. “I reacted badly.”

“Nicole, what are you saying?” His voice was tight, reflecting his fear—or his hope.

“If you no longer want me, I will understand. I know I cause a great deal of trouble because I do not think about my actions. If you still want me—I promise to be the wife you deserve. I will learn about menus and house cleaning, and . . . well, whatever else a countess should know. Anything you want, Blake.” She raised her gaze to his, steady, and full of that courage he so adored. “And you do not have to love me.”

Numb, Blake moved around the chair to drop into the seat. What had he done to her? That she should think he wanted her to be anyone but Nicole. How much he had to make up to her—so much it would take a lifetime. “You do not have to change for me, my sweet. I want you just as you are.”

She rushed forward to sink to her knees at his feet, her cloak billowing out around her. Several loose strands of hair blew forward to brush her cheek as she stared up at him. With extreme care, Blake reached out to tuck them behind her ear. So beautiful, so precious. Like a dream he had thought forced from his heart long ago.

Nicole pressed her cheek into his palm. “You forgive me, then?”

“Sweet Nicole, there is nothing to forgive. It is I who should be on my knees to you.”

Adamantly, she shook her head in denial. “When Teddy told me you had once loved Angelica, I thought only that I would be like my mother—always competing for the love of my husband. It was wrong of me and unfair to you. I have learned some things this night, but I will save the tale for another time.” Her hands grasped his knee tighter as she gazed up at him with adorable earnestness. “Oh, Blake, there is so much I want to say, so much inside me I want to share with you. Day after day I will regale you with stories of the past and my hopes for the future. And one morning you will awaken and say to yourself ‘Blast it all, my wife is an exciting woman. I fear I have fallen in love with her.’”

Blake grinned at the skillful imitation of his own voice. At his amusement, Nicole attempted to drop her gaze, but Blake lifted her chin. “I will cherish every word that comes from your lips, my dear, but you are wrong when you say I will awaken one morning and see the light.”

With disappointment sharpening her features, she tried to pull her face away, but Blake cupped her jaw more firmly. “I said you did not have to love me,” she murmured, a catch in her voice.

“You mistake my meaning, my dear. Already I awaken in the morning and tell myself 'Blast it all, Nicole is an exciting creature.' And tonight, when I thought I had lost you forever . . . I wondered why I could not simply tell you that I . . . I love you.”

Nicki held her breath and waited for him to take back the words, to clear his throat and tell her he had meant to say something entirely different. Somewhere in the room a chime tinkled daintily, announcing the half-hour. Dawn marched ever nearer with each sway of the pendulum. She searched his face, then found the answer she sought in his eyes. Flames flickered in the silver depths—too bright to be a reflection of the fire.

“You mean you truly love me?” she whispered in awe.

At his gentle chortle, years fled his features. “I swear it on my somewhat elusive honor.”

Nicki pushed to her feet and climbed onto his lap. She wrapped her arms about his neck, kissed him soundly, and tasted the warm piquancy of claret. “I have always told you what an honorable man you are.”

“It was you who reminded me.” As one hand grasped the back of her neck gently, Blake's other hand traced the line of her cheekbone.

Tears brimmed over, spilled onto her cheeks. “I will make you so happy, my Lord Diamond. And I promise I will not be difficult and insist you visit with my family and—”

“Stop." He touched a finger to her lips. "Do you think I would take away something so dear to you? Your father and I have made our peace. In fact, it seems we share a good many interests—the main one being your welfare. Now that Mina knows she will not have to marry me, we should get on nicely. Shelby and I are good friends. . . .”

“And Angelica?”

A sigh seemed to come from deep within him. “Teddy Bartholomew painted a picture that placed him in the best possible light. Angelica befriended both Teddy and myself. She seemed lonely and  sad. As I got to know her, she confided that she loved her husband very much, but one of his daughters had taken a horrible dislike to her.”

“Me.”

He nodded. “The tension had started to wear on their marriage. One evening, in the gardens, Angelica came to me particularly upset. I held her and tried to comfort her. One thing led to another and we kissed. Immediately, we both knew it was not right for either of us. We were nothing more than friends. Angelica decided she would be stronger in holding her marriage together. We both agreed that our friendship should cease.

“But I discovered later that Teddy had seen us and became furious. The following night he came to me and handed me a message from Angelica, or so I thought. It said that Jonathon had discovered us and she could not bear it and she intended to kill herself if I did not come to her bedchamber through the window. When I did so, there was a note already on her pillow. Your father assumed I had left it. Clever Teddy. It was all a grand farce. He meant for me to be caught all along.”

“But why?”

“Perhaps he was jealous of my friendship with Angelica and felt we had betrayed him. I would like to think he did not realize the extent of the trouble that would come of his actions.” Blake's jaw tightened. “But damn him, I waited for him to come forward and explain. He was my friend and I refused to implicate him. Even as the ship left the harbor that day, still I watched for him. I could not believe he would stand by and allow me to be banished from my home.”

A lump formed in her throat. “Did he ever come forward?”

Bitterly, Blake shook his head, a grimace of both agony and amusement shadowing his face. “He let me take the blame. I stared into the dark waters of the sea that day and swore all of them would pay.”