Once Upon a Diamond (22 page)

The duke raised a frowning brow. Charlotte gasped. Devin
laughed. And Kate’s jaw dropped open in shock as she moved to her brother’s
side.

“Matthew!”

Tristan twisted Kate around to face him. “You, Miss
Wilcox, are coming with me.” 

Matthew exercised his jaw and stumbled to a standing
position. “You there! Take your hands off my sister!”

Sister?
Tristan
paused and stared awkwardly at Kate, then at the man rubbing his jaw. Tristan
let go of Kate’s arm and frowned. Matthew stretched out his hand and laughed.

Tristan returned the handshake. “Kate’s brother, I
presume.”

Matthew grinned. “At least at this point I would claim
to be.”

Tristan laughed.

Kate’s hands clenched at her sides. “I hope you two are
satisfied with yourselves.”

Tristan turned to her. “Satisfied, no. Relieved, yes.”

 “I hope Lady Helen did not think I would join her in
Rushting’s box?” Tristan said at the club later that evening, not that he truly
cared.

“Lady Helen took her departure with the Viscount,” Edward
grinned, lifting his glass. “Don’t think she missed you at all.”

“Do tell?” Tristan replied. “Can’t say I wasn’t relieved
when her father gestured for her to attend him. Better Rushting than me.” He
caught Matthew’s smirk beside him and groaned. “Don’t even ask.”

“She has claws that could skin a cat,” Edward added with
a hearty chuckle.

“Indeed,” Devin said, “avoid that woman like the
plague.”

“I shall remember your advice gentlemen,” Matthew said,
his blue eyes dancing with amusement. Being the duke’s nephew, he had been
allowed entrance to the club and had come straight from the play. The duke and
the ladies had retired to their rooms.

Matthew shifted his gaze toward Tristan. “Your quest for
that diamond Devin tells me about seems more than enough to worry about than a
silly chit named Helen. Now, my sister is another story.” 

The diamond.
A
ripple of uneasiness swept through Tristan. Something told him he was missing
some important detail about the diamond’s disappearance. Tonight, he would
review his research. There had to be something he had missed. England depended
on him.

Devin leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands
behind his neck. “I would say that Miss Katherine Wilcox and Lord Lancewood
gave us a better show tonight than Shakespeare."

Matthew shot Tristan a humorous glance and raised his
drink. “I have knowledge of the inn, you know. Must marry my sister now."

Tristan laughed. He had already made his feelings about
Kate known to her brother. Tristan wanted to marry Kate, and Matthew had
readily agreed, too afraid to let Kate run wild any longer.

Matthew loved Kate and knew Tristan could provide for
her. Tristan’s monetary wealth had greatly increased over the last few months,
and he was certain he could make Kate see things his way. She loved him, didn’t
she? He may not love her, but women were different in these relationships of
marriage, even Matthew had agreed.

“A toast to my future brother-in-law.” Matthew rose from
his chair and repeated a line from the play, directing his words toward Tristan.
“A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft
of beauty.” 

Surprised,
Tristan slapped Matthew heartily on the back, relieved that Kate’s brother had
accepted him. All he had to do now was have the bride-to-be agree to say yes.

Braving the onslaught of ton’s gossip, the following
evening, Kate, Charlotte, Matthew, and Devin attended the ball hosted by the
Countess of Brackshire.

Heat singed Kate’s neck as she stood in her white satin
gown beneath the foyer chandelier. “Everyone seems to be looking at us,” she
whispered to Matthew, realizing the guests were gossiping about the incident at
Drury Lane.

“No need to worry,” Devin whispered back. “Within days,
someone else will have eloped to Gretna Green or have sported a duel, and your
scene with Tristan will be old news."

Charlotte patted Kate’s hand and smiled. “As for Mother,
she carries on like this all the time. She didn’t come tonight because she
hates being involved in any topics of gossip, though she loves to do the very
thing herself.”

Kate nodded gloomily. Standing in the marbled hall
entryway, her gaze darted about in hopes to catch sight of Tristan. But instead
of finding him, her eyes froze in the direction of the great winding stairwell.
Wide-eyed, she clamped her mouth shut and struggled for composure.

Everyone in her group blinked in awe as two ladies
proceeded to clank down the steps.

Mrs. Hollingsworth, the poor dear, was draped in a
purple gown with a coordinating tilted turban, containing three white feathers.
The countess took similar in appearance except she was covered in orange. Gold
bracelets jingled on both their arms.

Kate dared not look at Matthew for fear of causing an
embarrassing scene. She could not believe it. The two cousins matched each
other with their plump little bodies, style of clothes, and probably their
habit of drinking as well.

Kate sucked in her breath and suppressed the urge to fall
down in hysterics. “Mrs. Hollingsworth, you are looking extremely well.”

Matthew bowed, gently guiding the lady’s hand to his
lips. “Ah, Mrs. Hollingsworth, you are looking quite fine this evening.”

The lady blushed. “You are a devilish rake, Matthew. Always
have been, you know.” Mrs. Hollingsworth beamed with pride as she introduced
her cousin, the Countess of Brackshire.

The countess approached them and let out a hiccup. “Divine.
Simply divine. You must be the ones the entire ton is in an uproar about. The
Drury Lane incident, you know.”

Kate cringed and hastily made her greetings, moving
about the crowd as fast as possible.

As fate would have it, she unintentionally locked eyes
with Lady Helen. The uppity lady strutted toward her. Kate glanced at Devin and
Charlotte for help. But Devin flashed her a teasing smile and swept his sister
onto the dance floor.

“Good evening, Miss Wilcox,” Lady Helen replied coolly
as she batted her eyelids at Matthew.

“Good evening, Lady Helen.” Kate shot Matthew a beguiling
smile and made the introductions.

Lady Helen’s eyes widened in surprise. “So, this is the
handsome gentleman who escorted you to the play last night. I was hoping that
he was...” the lady hesitated and shrugged.

Kate lifted her brows in question. “Was what?" she
asked, quite satisfied with the lady’s pitiful frown. She knew full well Lady
Helen hoped Matthew a suitor, so she could have Tristan free for her own plans.

Lady Helen fidgeted, quickly clamping her claws into
Matthew’s arm. “Oh, it wasn’t important. Though, I should very much like to
dance with an American.” Her bold statement was not simply a wish, it was a
command. “And here is Lady Brackshire. La, Miss Wilcox, a chaperone for you
while I whisk your brother away for a few minutes.”

The foxed countess chatted with Kate, leaving Matthew’s
only recourse but to step onto the dance floor with the hateful woman. Matthew
gave Kate a slicing glare and she smiled back. Poor Matthew, doing the pretty
with a lobster was not something he enjoyed. Especially a waltz.

Kate swayed to the music. The violins played with such
energy, she felt she had been lifted on a cloud. She eventually realized the
countess had said something to her. Kate glanced behind her, but the lady was
gone.

Kate smiled to herself when she detected an orange
shadow swaying toward a group of gentlemen across the room. The countess was
quick on her feet indeed.

Kate turned to watch her brother and Lady Helen, but
lost track of them. Minutes passed by as she stared blankly at the floor caught
in a wonderful daze of floating notes.

“Miss Wilcox?” The deep voice broke into her thoughts.

Blinking, Kate focused on two black evening shoes with
bright gilt buckles positioned on the floor in front of her. Her gaze moved
upward, past the long beige trousers, to the dark blue jacket with its shiny
brass buttons. Her path continued past the crisp white shirt and starched
cravat. Two dark piercing eyes stared back at her from behind a scarred face.

“Miss Wilcox,” the deep voice sounded again. “Thought I
would find you. My aunt informed me she’d seen you a few minutes ago.”

Kate glanced back at the neatly dressed gentleman and
slowly emerged from her dream. “Captain Gaston, forgive me. You took me by
surprise. I was lost in the music.”

He took her hand. “You look ravishing tonight, my dear. May
I have this dance?"

“Certainly.” Kate felt uneasy at the man’s tightened
grip on her, but immediately dismissed his strange behavior. He was a friend
after all.

Devin observed Matthew slipping away from Lady Helen and
waved his cousin to join him at the refreshment table.

“Where’s your sister?" Matthew asked, darting a
glance over his shoulder.

Devin laughed. “If you’re seeking to grab Charlotte as a
decoy, it’s too late.” He pointed to the couple on the dance floor. “Manning
has taken a shine to her these days."

Matthew slid his gaze across the floor. “I dare not think
what Edward would say about that. Here comes the man in question with big
brother tagging along behind him.” 

Clad in black evening attire, the brothers strode toward
them. “And where, pray tell, are the ladies this evening?” Tristan asked.

Devin lifted his glass toward Edward who had already locked
his eyes on Charlotte. Tristan followed the path of Edward’s penetrating stare.
Devin raised his brow to Tristan and sighed. “I would say that poor Edward has
found my sister in the arms of another admirer.”  

Tristan watched warily as the music stopped, and Edward
squared his shoulders, trudging across the floor. Within seconds, he had
clutched Lady Charlotte’s hand and pulled her through the opened doors leading
to the garden.

Tristan hit Devin hard on the back in a friendly gesture.
“I take it Edward has taken the big step.”

Almost choking on his wine from the hardy slap, Devin
sputtered, “Do you mind till I finish?  I hope the old boy doesn’t regret it. My
sister can be a bear when she wants to.”

Choking with laughter, Tristan, Devin, and Matthew
leaned against the pillars behind them. Tristan held a crystal goblet to his
mouth, his eyes searching the dance floor for Kate. “Where is that beautiful
sister of yours? With the duke, I presume?”

“My father’s not here,” Devin said, putting his glass on
a nearby table, his dark brows creasing into a scowl.

“I left Kate with Lady Brackshire,” Matthew said.

“If you mean our host, I just so her swaying at the top
of the stairs. She’s foxed to the gills.”

Matthew’s face paled. “Escaping Lady Helen’s clutches
took my mind completely off Kate.”

Tristan’s stomach coiled. “After what you told me about
Gaston, we shouldn’t have left Kate out of our sight for a minute. For some
idiotic reason, I thought we all agreed on this.”

“We did,” Matthew said, worried. “I wasn’t thinking
clearly.”

“You weren’t thinking at all,” Tristan snapped as fear
twisted his gut. Not only was Gaston supposed to be here, so was Douberry.

Dumbfounded, Charlotte leaned against a tall statue of
Venus situated in the middle of the Brackshire gardens, her heart thumping
wildly. Mr. Edward Fullerton had finally done something she had never seen him
do. He swore out loud because she was dancing with Mr. Manning. He was jealous.
Insanely jealous, and she was enjoying every sordid second of it.

“Lady Charlotte,” Edward replied with a scowl, slicing
his hand through the cool air in a fit of rage. “I simply cannot believe you
would let that man pull you behind that potted plant.”

Charlotte stiffened. “What potted plant?”

Edward pointed to the ballroom. “That one.”

Charlotte followed the direction of his finger and
squinted, biting back the laughter that bubbled in her throat. “You cannot be
speaking about that small, insignificant rhododendron that reaches to my
shoulders, are you?” 

Edward stepped closer, his face grim. “Insignificant?” He
trapped her between his hands, pushing the cold statue against her back. “You
call a kiss insignificant!”

Charlotte’s eyes grew wide. “Are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” he said with rage streaking across his eyes. “I
am not jealous.”

Charlotte felt her heart drop.

“I’m furious.” His voice softened as he grabbed hold of
her shoulders. “If you ever stand behind a plant with some m—”

Charlotte
couldn’t help it. She started to giggle.

“
What
are you laughing about?”

“You,” she said. “I’m laughing about you.”