Heart of the Diamond (9 page)

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Authors: Carrie Brock

BOOK: Heart of the Diamond
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When her brother hooked the first fish, despite Blake's insistence on Shelby's inappropriate technique, Nicki applauded, earning a pained look for her apparent misplaced loyalties. Shortly after recasting, Shelby caught a second fish.

A burst of laughter escaped her lips before she could stifle the sound with her hand. As Shelby removed the fish from his hook, Blake strolled to where the boy had been fishing and cast his line.

Ever good-natured, her brother moved farther downstream. It wasn't long before he shouted in triumph at his third success of the day.

Nicki relaxed against the tree trunk and examined her nails as she called out to the earl. “Perhaps you should ask Shelby for some instruction, my lord. The fish may very well have changed their eating habits since your childhood. It was a very long time ago.”

Blake scowled in her direction. “I have yet to see your line give the slightest wiggle whilst I have had several promising tugs!”

“I come with my brother for the fresh air and quiet. I have yet to catch a fish.”

“Then why bother putting your line in the water?”

She grinned, drew her bent knees close to her chest and then clasped them with her arms. “It makes Shelby happy.”

An expression of what almost appeared to be surprise flashed across his bronze face, and was just as quickly gone. He turned back to the fishing and Nicki took note of his raven-colored hair waving over the collar of his shirt. “You are dedicated to your family, Nicole.” A muscle jerked in his square jawline. “I wonder how you will adjust to leaving them when we are wed.”

The words took Nicki's breath for an instant and a feeling like a hot chill moved across her skin. “But you have Rosewood now. We can live there.”

“I have not decided what to do with the estate. My ancestral home is in Devonshire, but I also have homes in London—and America.”

Thinking furiously, Nicki nibbled at her lower lip. “Wherever we are to live, you will allow me to visit them? It would pain me a great deal to never see them again.”

“Would you put them before your husband in your regard?” His voice took on the cold tone already too familiar to her.

“My family has been my life for twenty-two years. You and I have only just met.”

He turned to regard her, unwavering, unbending. “Your honesty is refreshing, but not entirely self-serving. You reveal a weakness in your loyalty.”

“Weakness?” Nicki had the strong desire to look away from the intensity of his stare, as though by doing so she could escape the power that emanated from the man. Instead, she steeled herself and met his look steadily. “I had thought we were entering into marriage—not a battle.”

“Are the two so very different?”

“For a man who schemed to become engaged, you certainly have a jaded view of wedlock!”

He continued to watch her, no emotion revealed in his expression. “And what is your opinion of the union of two souls, my dear?” His voice held no more feeling than his countenance.

Nicki lowered her eyes. A vision of her mother's still, white face interjected itself into her mind.
I leave you now to find my own peace.
 Panicked, she quickly banished the thought and instead lifted her face to the leafy covering of tree limbs overhead.

“My parents were contracted to wed by their fathers when they were born and there was never any deep regard between them. When my father remarried, the decision was his alone and he married for love.”

“It was an unhappy match, your parents?”

His words startled her. He had heard something in her voice she had not meant to reveal. She would have to be more careful. “I did not think so—but then, I was a child.” She watched a small bird hop along the opposite bank of the stream while its cohorts chattered from the safety of the branches overhead. “I learned the truth much too late.”

“Children have no control over the happiness of their parents, Nicole,” he said softly, the low timbre of his voice weaving insidiously through her carefully maintained defenses.

Nicki bit her lip so hard she winced with the pain. This man she scarcely knew pried into secret thoughts she had revealed to no other living soul—not even to Teddy. Nervously, she plucked at several bits of grass clinging to her skirts. He said children could not make their parents happy. If only she could believe that.

She sighed and swiped her hands at the bits of greenery. “I am not so certain that is true, but I shall never know, shall I? That part of my life is in the past and I choose not to dwell on those things I cannot change.”

“And your future? Do you feel your own happiness is out of your hands as well?”

She lifted her gaze and noted with surprise that his fist was clenched at his side, his neglected fishing pole held loosely in his other hand. “That, my lord, is a different matter entirely. I refuse to leave my fate to chance.” She allowed a slight smile to curve one side of her mouth. “Beware, Lord Diamond. I intend to fight for what was denied my parents—and I will take no prisoners.”

The water that rushed over sand and stones, so quick to reach some unknown destination; the cheerful warbling of a robin in the branches overhead; the wind that whispered its secrets to the leaves above—all disappeared. The earl had somehow drawn close to her, though neither of them had moved. Nicki caught her breath, clenched her fingers in the velvet of her gown. In his eyes she could see the memory of herself being cradled against his bare chest on their first meeting. Her hand grew hot, as though recalling the feel of his skin, smooth and hard beneath her fingers.

Blake broke the tenuous contact with a bitter smile. “Then we are back to my original comment. Marriage and love . . . wars and battles—there is little difference.”

Nicki released the air from her lungs, uncertain whether to feel disappointed or relieved. She turned her attention downstream to her brother. “Perhaps. It seems we are destined to find out, you and I.”

Blake jerked upward on his fishing pole, shouting in triumph at the tug of a fish hooked on his line. “So we are, my dear—so we are!”

. . .

Before two hours had passed, the sky had gone from patches of blue to sullen gray. Blake glanced at the mist crowding the trees, heavy and white. He hurried Nicole and Shelby through the woods toward Langley Hall. The prospect of rain irritated him to no end, and he cast threatening glares at the skies, challenging the dark clouds not to release their burden before he had gotten his charges safely indoors.

In no time, they reached the graveled drive where Shelby charged ahead, unmindful of the stringer of shiny silver fish swinging at his side and slapping against his pant leg.

“Leave your fish on the porch, Shelby,” Nicole called after him.

In that moment, the heavens opened and released a deluge. Blake grasped Nicole's arm, then rushed her up the steps and beneath the protective cover of the eaves. The stringer lay abandoned on the marble. Not far away, the door stood open to the hall that allowed them to hear Shelby's excited voice and Simms' inaudible reply.

“We almost made it.” Nicole looked up at him with a smile.

Blake paused on the threshold and stared down into her face. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold damp of the rain, and her eyes, that curious blend of green and blue, sparkled with silent laughter. A leaf had become caught in her golden curls. He reached out to brush the intruder aside. The feel of those silken tresses against his fingers sent a jolt through him he had not expected. Immediately, he drew back and cleared his throat.

“You'll catch your death,” he said gruffly. “Let us get inside.”

A look close to hurt entered her eyes, but she only nodded bravely and shook out the folds of her cloak before stepping into the hall. Blake removed his own cloak, gave the garment a brusque shake to dislodge the moisture, then followed Nicole inside.

Simms, with a still chattering Shelby on his heels, glided forward to take their cloaks. “Disagreeable weather, sir. Miss.”

“It was a beautiful morning, Simms, even if the storm did take us unawares.” Nicole cast a shy glance in Blake's direction before turning her entire attention to removing her gloves.

“His Lordship had some good nibbles, Simms,” Shelby offered excitedly, “and even if he didn't catch a thing, he never gave up. Not once. Do you want to see my fish? Nick made me leave them outside, but I'll get them if you want to see them!”

Simms’ serious face softened, though he didn't allow a smile to break. “Master Shelby, we shall take your catch to the kitchens at once. Em shall be thrilled at your success.”

As if by some second sense, Blake's gaze was drawn to the head of the grand staircase and the woman standing there, watching their little group without a snippet of emotion crossing her lovely features. A tightness entered his chest, the likes of which he had not felt since the days of his youth.

Angelica Langley. Her gaze found his and he noted the slightest stiffening in her regal posture before she lifted her chin and began her ascent. A most becoming day gown of peach silk adorned her still slender figure. The color enhanced the ivory of her skin, the rich auburn of her hair, and the green of her eyes. She was no longer young, he knew this, because he had left the days of youth behind himself, and she was older than he. Even so, she had not lost her form, and she still possessed the look of a woman who had not encountered a male she could not charm. Angelica Langley had always known her way with members of the opposite sex.

As she approached, Blake clenched his hands into fists to steady his nerve. He had known he would face her eventually. The woman reached the base of the stairs and her gaze went to Nicole, then to Shelby, and lastly to Simms who was returning through the front door with the stringer of fish in hand.

“Lord Diamond, welcome,” the duchess murmured in her soft, elegant voice as she moved forward with hand outstretched. “I hope my children have not been too troublesome?”

Blake took her proffered hand. Though he knew his hands were chilled from the out of doors, her flat-lipped smile did not waiver. “On the contrary, I had a most pleasurable outing.” He bent over their lightly clasped fingers briefly, not allowing his lips to touch her gem rings. “It has been a long time since we last met. You have not changed at all.”

She withdrew her hand and he observed a quickened pulse at her slender throat. “I fear I cannot say the same for you, sir. You have indeed changed. I feel as though I am looking at your father.”

“Such is life,” he murmured with a wry half-smile, knowing every expression to use to gain just the right reaction, for his father had used every last one on Blake as a boy.

Something flickered in the green depths of her eyes before Angelica quickly recovered from his remark and turned her attention to her stepdaughter. Her gaze swept the girl from head to toe. “I see you managed to get soaked again, Nicole. Lucy is awaiting your presence above stairs. Run along. We shall be in the sitting room.”

“I . . . Of course.”

Blake glanced at Nicole only to find her eyes downcast and her cheeks deeply flushed. She pushed a golden curl away from her face. “If you will excuse me, my lord, I shall rejoin you shortly.”

With a quick curtsy, Nicole hurried along the foyer and up the stairs.

“I await your return,” he said, but the girl didn't seem to hear him.

Angelica followed the girl's progress, a look near sadness on her face, then she sighed and turned back to Shelby. “You're father will be so pleased, son. Simms, take the fish and the young master to the kitchens for cleaning. And please inform Emma we shall have tea in the sitting room.”

“I've never had so much fun.” Shelby flashed Blake a smile. “I'm glad you were my fishing partner, sir.”

“It was my pleasure, Shelby.”

As the boy bolted away to the kitchen with Simms following at a more sedate pace, Angelica turned her attention back to Blake. A hardness entered her gaze, and he knew the gloves were about to come off.

“My husband should be returning shortly. One of our tenants has a new farming technique to discuss, and Jonathon would hear every last thought.”

“Just like a good landlord.”

She nodded absently, still watching him. “I thought never to see you again, and here you are, in my home, socializing with my children. What am I to think, Blake?”

Her use of his given name jolted him, but he maintained his cool, controlled facade. “Think what you will, madam, it is not my concern. We are neighbors, after all, and soon to be family.”

“What happened to you?” A strange, sad smile played about her lovely red mouth. “This is not the boy I knew.” Slowly, she moved a step closer to him, her gaze studying his face. He caught the scent of lavender and memories he refused to think about threatened his composure. “No, this is a man I see before me.” Her fingers clasped his forearm, gentle, light as a bird coming to perch. “You have known much bitterness, and you have learned to embrace hatred. Not at all like the boy I remember. More like . . . the Earl of Diamond.”

Blake stood frozen, the sudden pain in his chest too much like that he had experienced in the past, the very same he had sworn never to feel again. He stepped back and her hand fell away from his arm. “I am the Earl of Diamond, Angelica. That boy you knew does not exist any longer. But then, you saw to that, didn't you? You and your husband.”

She gasped and her face paled. “But—”

“Shall we retire to the sitting room? I've a sudden thirst for tea.”

Coldness returned to her features and it was as though she had never let down that elegant, ever-polite veneer. “Of course, this way. My daughter, Wilhemina, awaits.”

With only the slightest hesitation, she placed her hand on his arm and led him through a set of double doors standing open to their left. As they entered the room, a young lady set aside her sewing and rose slowly from a green wing back chair near the blazing fire. Her dark blue eyes, so very much like Billington's, widened slightly.

“Lord Diamond, my second daughter, Wilhemina.” Angelica released Blake's arm and motioned him to pass.

Wilhemina Langley wafted into an exquisite curtsey. The white of the fireplace with its shining gold embellishments was a perfect backdrop for her dark hair and sapphire gown.

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