A Historical Regency Romance
 Heart of the Diamond Carrie Brock
  Chapter 1 
 Shropshire, England 1819 Lady Nicole Langley did not want to be engaged, but she also had no wish to die. Nicki’s heart pounded until it echoed inside her head. She clung to moisture-slick lattice and hoped the ancient structure showed enough tenacity to stick to the brick facade of Rosewood Manor. She looked down. The thought came to her that most young women would choose to stroll through the moonlit gardens below on the arm of a gentleman, not be in danger of falling to their deaths in the midst of the foliage while attempting to visit one. But then, at the age of two and twenty, she accepted the fact that she would never be like most women. With a fortifying sigh, Nicki turned her attention back to the project at hand—her intention to meet with one gentleman in particular. Teddy Bartholomew, childhood friend and Nicki’s first love, now returned to England after six long years. A quick gust of wind gave her a nudge; the trellis swayed slightly. - With a gasp, Nicki tightened her grip. She pressed her face into cool leaves of ivy and clematis. Her eyes closed to wait for the frantic beat of her heart to slow. Softly, she whispered a quick prayer. The wind stilled, as though in answer to her plea. Falling two stories to her death might have appealed to Nicki when she awoke this drizzly Shropshire morning engaged to be married to an ogre, but now she was of a different mind. After all, this endeavor, if successful, would set right that insufferable wrong. All she must do is live long enough to reach the window above. With a deep breath, Nicki released one handhold and fumbled through the ivy for another. That grip secure, she took a step up. Her arms and legs trembled slightly from the unfamiliar exertion. Dancing steps, lessons in etiquette, and corsets did not condition one for climbing. Nicki risked a peek up toward her goal. She could see that the window to Teddy’s bedchamber stood open, though the room appeared to be dark. He must be here. The note delivered to her this afternoon in the Langley Hall stables had instructed her to come to their “usual meeting place.” Though he had been out of the country for six years, Teddy would not have forgotten their daring escapades that always began by her climbing the trellis to his room. Another determined breath and she continued on. For not having climbed up the side of a house in a good many years, Nicki made quick work of the remainder of the journey. Her success had a good deal to do with the last minute inspiration that had come to her when she stumbled over a pair of her brother’s abandoned trousers. They fit her snugly, but hindered her less than petticoats and an empire gown cinched tight beneath her breasts. Besides, the filmy fabric would have been shredded by this point. Her attire would not shock Teddy—he knew her too well. The trellis ended abruptly several feet below the decorative wrought iron that framed the window. Intimidated, but not deterred, Nicki balanced herself on one of the topmost rungs and eased herself upward. The rough surface of the bricks caught at the sleeve of her linen shirt, but she grasped the frame and hauled herself up and over the casing. “Ted…” The heel of one riding boot tangled in the tassel rope of the velvet drapes as she stepped forward. Nicki managed an ungraceful tumble to her hands and one knee on the bedroom floor, while her other foot remained securely snared by the cord. Exasperated, Nicki jerked free of the rope. At the same instant she heard a loud, ripping noise. She felt her derriere and sighed in relief. The curtains had torn, but her brother’s breeches remained intact. As she rose to her knees, she dusted off her hands. Her hair, which had been hastily tied back before leaving home, fell in tangled curls about her shoulders and down her back. The pins had scattered with her fall. For several moments, Nicki groped about the frayed rug, encountering only several holes. No ribbon. No pins. She sighed. At this moment she had no time to waste on hair accessories. She was on a mission. Nicki climbed to her feet, swiped at her trouser - legs one last time and squinted into the darkness. “Teddy? Are you here?” A heavy silence met her words. Could he be downstairs at this late hour? She returned to the ceiling-high window and pushed back each side of the dust-laden draperies. At the sight of the moon, Nicki paused. Its radiance glimmered through clouds that wisped over its surface like coal dust. She shivered as she looked down into the oncefamous rose garden—the pride of this manor long ago. Undulating patches of light and dark moved and flickered over the hulking shapes of overgrown rose bushes like the souls of creatures who had once dwelt in the sunshine, but now were banished to darkness. An enchanted place fallen under a terrible curse. Nicki sighed in regret and sadness. “I wondered if you would come. You have kept me waiting, my dear.” Nicki spun at the words, her gaze sweeping the dimly lit room. No matter how long she had been away from Teddy, she would recognize his voice. That certainly was not it. “Who’s there?” A movement from the farthest, darkest corner caught Nicki’s gaze. Shivering, she backed toward the window. She could make out the shape of an overstuffed chair, then the silhouette of a man materialized into a standing position before the bulky piece of furniture. He stretched languorously, raising long arms over his head. “I must have fallen asleep. Is it midnight?” His voice filled the room again. Deep, resonant—a heated blade slicing through wax.   Nicki’s heart skipped a beat, then raced to catch up. She took another step back just as a sharp gust of wind caught the curtains, causing them to billow out. The heel of her riding boot again snagged in the ancient fabric. “Deuce take it!” she snapped. Nicki struggled to jerk her foot free with as much decorum as possible. She certainly did not intend to turn around and bend over to extricate herself, thus providing the stranger with a clear view of her unseemly attire, not to mention the portions of her body the trousers revealed too well. Holding her breath, she looked up to see the man moving toward her with long, deliberate strides. She froze, completely at a loss. As he approached her through dappled shadow and light, Nicki had the eerie sense that one of the tallest, most frightening specters from the garden had slipped into the room with her. She experienced a twinge of alarm, but had no time to further assimilate her reaction before the man knelt beside her. Feeling like a complete and utter goose, Nicki lifted her foot so her heel could be extricated from the velvet. The man clasped her ankle gently, then slipped the torn fabric free with ease. As she watched his actions, it occurred to her that his hair appeared to be darker than she expected, and at the back it touched his shoulders. The scent of sandalwood, soap, and something else—brandy—surrounded her. Soothing, oddly hypnotic. “Please forgive my lapse in manners.” He spoke softly as he released her ankle. As he straightened, Nicki followed his progress - with growing alarm. Never had she set eyes on a man so exceedingly tall. This was definitely not Teddy. “I am somewhat rusty at extricating ladies from my bedchamber curtains before a proper introduction.” The voice sounded so close. Too close. Nicki moved a safe distance from the window coverings—and the man—though not far enough to bar escape through the window if it became necessary. She strained to make out his features, but he had chosen a position in a patch of darkness—a living, breathing part of the night. Who was this stranger in Teddy’s house? “I…” She cleared her throat. “I am truly sorry to disturb you. This is Sir Theodore Bartholomew’s room, is it not?” The man turned slightly to survey the surroundings of silhouetted bulky furniture, his hand going to his chin. Nicki heard the soft scrape of fingers across stubble. “Hmm.” He twisted back to face her, and she knew with absolute certainty she had never seen shoulders so wide. “I suppose it was. Once.” He sounded amused. Recalling her mode of dress, Nicki longed for the return of the curtains to hide behind. Self-conscious, she reached up to smooth her hair, then recalled the lost pins. She was a mess. Nicki glanced to the window. She could flee. Surely he would not stop her. As quickly as the desire came to her, she swept it aside. She had come to see Teddy and would not leave until she had done so. Drawing on her inner strength, she clenched her hands   together, and was startled to find them as cold as the stones. Then she realized what the stranger had said. Was Teddy’s room? Impending doom lurked in his choice of words, but Nicki valiantly fought her rising panic. There had to be a simple explanation for this man’s presence in Teddy’s bedchamber. Surely she would be informed of it at any moment. “Please. I have come on a matter of the gravest import and Teddy is the only one who can save me. He sent a message only this afternoon. He must be here!” “I have no doubt your situation is desperate, but as you can see Teddy is not here. By the bye, my name is Blake Dylan.” She took a steadying breath, which only resulted in a sudden light-headedness. What had her stepmother told her? A lady does not give her name to a man unless they have been properly introduced. “Very well, Mr. Dylan. I shall await his return.” “I would prefer you call me Blake.” Nicki might be a country miss who had never had a Season in London, but she knew she should not be speaking to this man, and she especially should not address him by his given name. “I said I shall await Teddy, sir.” Dylan chuckled softly and rested his hands on his hips. “Perhaps your odds of finding a man at home would improve greatly if you called during the daylight hours. Of course, that would be quite a mundane task for a young lady with your obvious taste for adventure.” Nicki’s fragile patience collapsed, releasing a spark of anger. “This is not a matter to be discussed over a - cup of tea, Mr. Dylan, and I did not come here for a lecture on propriety! Please tell me where I might find Teddy Bartholomew.” “He is in America.” “America?” Her hopes cracked. In seconds they would shatter into tiny fragments. “No, that… that cannot be. The note…” A long pause stretched the silence before Dylan’s smooth voice filled the room again. “You are under a misconception, my charming little intruder. I last saw your Teddy in a saloon in Boston. He was quite indisposed. You see, the man has trouble holding his brandy and had just lost Rosewood Manor in a game of cards—to me.” Nicki stumbled back a step. A soft cry escaped her lips before she could stifle it. She did not want to believe it, yet she knew better than anyone of Teddy’s three loves. Dylan spoke of two. Nicki was the third. In just that order. Dylan shrugged his broad shoulders. He continued as though unaware of her distress. “So you see, this is my room, not Teddy’s.” She shook her head in denial. Impossible. Teddy could not have lost Rosewood. “It was I who sent you the message.” “You…!” Nicki’s breath left her in a rush, cutting off her words. She could not seem to draw air into her lungs. Why would this Dylan person send her a note leading her to believe Teddy had come back to Rosewood? She pressed her fingers to her temples and struggled for breath. Teddy still in America? Impossible. She had risked everything—pinned all her hopes on believing Teddy   had most opportunely returned to England to save her. The room dipped alarmingly. Her knees threatened to buckle as she fought to remain upright. The air grew too heavy to breathe. “There now, do not go fainting on me.” Dylan’s warm, strong arms slipped about her rib cage as he eased Nicki to the carpet. She closed her eyes. Her head rested against his chest as she concentrated on breathing. “Things cannot be bad as all that.” His deep voice rumbled against the back of her head, compounding her dizziness. For several seconds, her mind continued to spin. Gradually, the whirling subsided. Never having experienced such an occurrence before, Nicki waited for whatever would happen next. “Are you conscious?” Nicki thought she detected a note of concern in Dylan’s voice. She kept her eyes closed as she weighed her options. Blast it all. What should she do now? He thought she had fainted. It served him right. But she knew when she awakened the difficulties would remain and she would have done nothing more than make a cake of herself before a perfect stranger. This stranger had apparently set out to purposefully deceive her. Why? She must learn the truth. Nicki twisted slightly within Dylan’s secure hold and reached around to push herself away—only to touch warm, smooth… bare skin. Merciful heaven, she was being embraced by a naked man! She froze. The heat from his body infiltrated her fingertips. It intensified, projecting tiny pinpricks - along her palm. Nicki snatched her hand away. Slowly, she raised her gaze to his face. In the dimness she could vaguely make out high cheekbones and a strong jaw. Brandy scented breath whispered across her cheeks, caressing—not entirely unpleasant. Nicki tensed and searched for something intelligent to say. The note. At that moment, a muffled knock sounded from across the room. After an agitated rattling of the doorknob, the door flew open. Nicki opened her mouth to scream, but Dylan tightened his hold about her middle, nearly cutting off her air. She managed only a pitiful squeak. With growing horror, Nicki stared as the door rebounded off the wall. A harried gentleman in robe and slippers entered the bedchamber bearing a dip. The flame danced wildly in its brass holder. Nicki suddenly recognized the Bartholomew’s butler, Chester. Close on his heels came a man of medium height brandishing a pistol. Her mouth dropped open. The man’s pants were pushed into his riding boots and an evening jacket had been hastily thrown over his nightshirt. He looked very much like his sleep had been interrupted by an emergency. Chester cleared his throat. “My lord, the Duke of Billington—” “Papa!” Nicki gasped. Her father pushed forward, the tassel of his nightcap flying out to smack the butler across the mouth. “Unhand my daughter, you fiend from hell!” Nicki’s gaze snapped to the man at her side. My lord? Fiend from hell?   The moon chose that opportune moment to appear and, combined with Chester’s rushlight, shone across a face seemingly chiseled from granite. Dylan’s pale eyes were locked on her father. The skin on Nicki’s arms prickled. If this man’s eyes had been weapons, Jonathon Langley would have perished on the spot. “Ah… Billington. We’ve been expecting you. Lovely night, is it not?” “Get your hands off my girl before I put a lead ball in you!” “It would please me to no end to get my hands off your daughter, but she has just experienced a shock. If I release her, she might collapse and suffer an injury.” Her father’s blue eyes bulged and his normally healthy complexion took on an alarming purple hue. Nicki’s concern deepened. She could not recall ever seeing him in such a temper—and if anyone had, it would have been her. “Devil take you, what did you do to Nicki? Your fight is with me!” “I have no wish to fight with you or your daughter, Billington. She came here believing she would find Theodore Bartholomew—and found me instead.” Though Dylan’s speech remained almost bored, Nicki felt tension in the taut muscles of his powerful arms she now clutched. Heat scalded her cheeks. She jerked her hands away and clasped them together at her throat. She looked up to see her father’s gaze fastened on her. His expression softened when he made eye contact. This was the father she knew. “If you’d come to me before charging out of the house, I could’ve explained Ted hadn’t returned.” - Tears welled up before Nicki could stay them. She used her elbow to push herself more firmly from the man holding her. This time he did not restrain her. Why was this happening? She had only wanted to speak to Teddy. Nicki rose and moved to stand several feet away from Dylan. Feeling suddenly chilled, she crossed her arms over her chest. Curious, she glanced at the man to find him still hunkered down with his elbows resting on his knees. His loosely clasped hands dangled between muscular thighs clothed in light colored fabric. Nicki thought she saw the wink of a gem on a ring he wore on his index finger. She raised her gaze. Now that his torso was clearly visible to her, she better understood her father’s distress. At least Dylan was not naked, as she had first believed. Her gaze continued upward to his face and she discovered he had been watching her inspection. Heat flamed her cheeks. With a wry grin, he raised from his crouch. His muscles were sleek and taut. Nicki’s errant gaze dropped to his hips, clad in fawn-colored breeches so snug he might as well have worn nothing at all. The chill of only moments ago fled before the sudden onslaught of liquid warmth. She struggled again to bring her breathing under control. Completely at ease, Dylan turned and strode away into the shadows where he paused before an enormous bureau and removed the glass covering from a lamp. Guilt struck Nicki hard when she realized she had watched the play of muscles across his… posterior… with flagrant fascination. She excused her behavior with the thought that she had a deep respect for Greek   sculpture and this man was truly a masterpiece. A crack of flint against stone caused Nicki to start. Dylan replaced the globe over the flame and the added illumination chased any remaining gloom from the bedchamber. An unperturbed Dylan turned to lean a bronze shoulder against the dark cherrywood bureau. He crossed his arms over the wide expanse of his bare muscled chest. “Chester, remind me to install more chairs in my bedchamber. I was unaware of the neighborly custom of visiting a man in the middle of the night, but then I have been out of the country for some time. Also make a note that I shall have to hone my climbing skills as well if I am to return the courtesy. It seems one enters a neighbor’s house through the window—or through the door brandishing a weapon. The window seems slightly more civilized, though I am not certain yet which is the more dangerous.” “As if you were ever civilized, Dylan!” interjected Nicki’s father. Nicki gaped at her father. Such rude outbursts were uncommon, even for him. “Papa, whatever are you doing here?” He sputtered, the skin of his face reddening once again. “Well… I… the note…” “I believe your father is here to protect your virtue, my lady. It seems you have landed in a… situation.” Her father glanced uncomfortably toward the butler. The tassel of his nightcap dropped over one eye. “It might be best to continue this conversation in private, Dylan.” One brief nod from his new master and Chester - bowed stiffly and left the room. The door closed with a crisp click. Calm as Lucifer himself, Dylan returned his attention to the intruder. “Whether we speak alone or in the presence of an army of servants, the damage is done.” Her father looked at her for an instant, then at the gun in his hand. His faced flushed as he stuffed the weapon into the pocket of his brocade jacket. “My daughter’s betrothed to another. We’ll take our leave now and just forget this matter. I don’t know what game you’re playing, Dylan, but I won’t be a part of it.” “Oh, I think you will take part, Billington.” Blake Dylan lifted his hand and curled long fingers to survey his nails. Nicki could see the ring clearly in the lamp light. It looked like the head of an animal and it had two white jewels for eyes. Diamonds. Chills raced over Nicki’s skin. “Proper procedures must be followed. I have no desire to face an angry fiancé with pistols at dawn.” Dylan looked up to fasten his compelling gaze on the man before him. “You know what must be done. Perhaps better than I.” Nicki looked back and forth from the stone-faced Dylan to her father, who had gone deathly pale and appeared in danger of collapsing. She had the uncomfortable feeling she had opened a book in the middle. “Don’t do this, Dylan. She has nothing to do with our troubles.” Stiffness claimed the handsome features of Dylan’s face. “I beg to differ, sir. She is a threat to my honor.” The cold words sliced through the tension in the room. Nicki rubbed her arms. “But, sir, no harm has   been done.” Both men ignored her as they continued to stare daggers at each other. “What think you, Billington? Do you agree no harm can come from this night? Will you try to fob off a ruined girl to uphold a betrothal? I suppose you would if your honor has no importance to you. But I will let it be known that I was willing to take the proper action. Will you do the right thing?” Nicki’s father hesitated. “Yes, devil take it.” He tugged at the collar of his nightshirt, the familiar gesture testimony to the extent of his discomfit. “I now understand where your daughter gets her colorful vocabulary. At any rate, the matter is settled. I trust you will see to the other gentleman.” Her father nodded. He glared at the frayed Persian carpet, his jaw working spasmodically. Unnerved by her father’s demeanor, Nicki returned her attention to the man across the room. Silver. His eyes were silver framed with incredibly long, black lashes. Like the eyes in the ring. His gaze flashed to her and Nicki flinched. She stood mesmerized, incapable of movement. “Congratulations, my lady.” Blake Dylan smiled, but without warmth—merely a baring of white teeth. “It seems we are engaged.”  After seeing the Langleys to the door, Blake Dylan returned to his bedchamber. Moonlight streamed in the open window and drew him across the room. He - pressed his clenched fists against the frame and stared at the distorted image of his face in the double panes of glass. None of the turmoil raging through his soul showed in his features. Never reveal your emotions. That was his father’s creed. Blake had perfected it. With a fierce shove, he slammed the window closed. The glass rattled in the frame. He examined his reflection in the glass. When he turned away, his bare shoulder brushed the ragged edges of the torn curtain. He paused to trace the rip with his index finger. Langley’s daughter. Who would have thought she’d enter the house through a second-story window? He had fallen asleep in the chair while going over the Rosewood accounts as he awaited the arrival of the Langley’s daughter. The candle had burned out as he slept, yet the darkness worked as a useful tool. After the tearing sound had awakened him, he found he could watch the girl without allowing her to see him clearly. His first day in residence at Rosewood—and already his plans were set in motion. When he arranged for the note to be delivered to Nicole Langley, he half expected her to visit him circumspectly in the daylight hours, despite Teddy’s description of his meetings with the girl. The unmarried women of Blake’s acquaintance did not visit men in their bedchambers in the middle of the night. Certainly not dressed in trousers. Nicole had surprised him—something that did not happen often. The man he had stationed at the Langley mansion had been told to watch for a young lady to leave the   house, then deliver the second note to Billington. His success was obvious. Carefully laid plans always paid off in the end. Before passing a fortnight in England, Blake had become engaged to the woman he sought—the daughter of the man he had hated for years and the one true love of the deceitful Teddy Bartholomew. Too easy. Blake conjured up the list of details he had stored away in his mind regarding Billington’s oldest daughter —tidbits of information provided by Bartholomew. Headstrong, daring, witty, and mischievous. Considering her volatile personality, he had no reason to be surprised at her behavior this evening. A girl who would slip vodka into her stepmother’s afternoon tea would dare a great deal. Tonight she had come in search of Theodore Bartholomew and wound up his instead. There had to be some justice in that. A soft tapping on the door intruded into his reverie. “Enter.” Chester hesitated in the doorway. “I noticed the light under the door. You have not yet retired, my lord?” “Sleep eludes me.” Blake smiled slightly. “Too much excitement, I suppose.” “I must offer my apologies, sir. The duke was quite agitated and I was concerned he might discharge his weapon. I acted wrongly in bringing him to you.” Blake waved his hand impatiently. “Chester, you have my permission to do whatever necessary to calm any irate fathers waving guns.” “The Duke of Billington is normally a reasonable man. It must have been his worry over Lady Nicki that had him so out of sorts.” - “Odd,” Blake arched a brow. “On the one other occasion I chanced to encounter Billington, he was equally disgruntled. I must bring out the worst in him—wouldn’t you say, Chester?” The butler’s mouth tightened into a small bow, as though he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon. “I am certain I would not know, my lord.” “At any rate, we shall be seeing a good deal of the duke and his daughter.” Catching sight of a shiny object on the faded carpet, Blake bent to retrieve a lady’s hairpin. “I have gotten myself engaged, Chester. The Langley girl certainly is attractive.” “Congratulations, sir. Lady Nicki was ever a pretty thing and she does have an appealing enthusiasm for life.” “Is that what you call it? I was inclined to find her reckless and somewhat foolhardy, but then I have not had the pleasure of her acquaintance for as long as you have. How long have you known Lady Nicole, Chester?” In the light of the dip Chester held, his austere features seemed to soften. “Lady Nicki’s mother, bless her soul, brought the girl to Rosewood from the time she was a babe. If I may be so presumptuous, my lord, Lady Nicki has an aversion to being referred to as Lady Nicole. When she was but four years old, I thought it unseemly to use the abbreviated version of her name, but the little thing held her breath until she turned blue. It was then the duchess assured me that everyone was to call her Nicki, including the servants.” “Interesting. Rewarding blackmail. So Lady Nicole came to Rosewood with her mother?” Chester stiffened slightly, but continued. “Until she   was seven or so. When the young miss was but four or five years, she took it in her head to follow Master Teddy about. Most lads of ten would have sent her packing, but not Master Teddy. He treated Lady Nicki like a sister. When he went to school at Oxford, she was devastated.” At the mention of the university, Blake clenched the cool metal hairpin in his hand. “She must have been twelve or thirteen by that time.” “Why, yes, I believe she was thirteen. Ah… when the young master came down from school, those were joyous times. Wherever the pair of them were, trouble soon appeared. So full of life, those two.” Blake scowled, unclenched his fist and turned to place the hairpin on the polished surface of the bureau. “I believe you called it enthusiasm. I should think Lady Nicole well beyond the age of such foolishness. As my wife, she must learn to carry on in a dignified and decorous manner. This sneaking into second story windows will stop.” “As you say, my lord. Forgive my prattling. It must be the lateness of the hour. If you have no further need of my services, I shall retire.” “Off to bed with you, Chester. We shall both need our strength for the days ahead.” “Of course, my lord. Have a pleasant sleep.” Chester bowed stiffly before he backed from the room and closed the door. Blake returned to his vigil at the window, bracing his hands on either side of the glass. How could he sleep now? Visions of slim hips and thighs provocatively revealed by those outrageous trousers raced through - his mind; as did her hair of palest gold which tumbled in curls to the tantalizing curve at the base of her spine. Once having looked into her eyes a man would never forget their color—like the sea where it fades from the shore, a curious blend of deep blue tinged with green. When those beautiful eyes drew a man in, he would not be satisfied until he had tasted her full mouth with that pouting lower lip, soft and pink, and moist where her tongue had touched… Good God, had it been so long since he had been with a woman? This was Billington’s daughter, not a bloody siren. Blake pushed himself away from the window, stalked to the bureau, and doused the lamp. He had come here for a purpose and he could not allow an intriguing little firebrand to distract him. There would be time to fully savor the sweetness of that adorable mouth at a later date—after he had exacted his revenge.  Nicki squirmed on the bare back of her horse. She had always thought side saddles horrid contraptions, but now realized they had their uses. She risked a peek at her father. He rode just ahead, his countenance stiff, annoyance bristling from him. If he had his way, she would most likely be on her feet and tied to his saddle so he could drag her all the way home to Langley Hall. When she compared that scenario to her recently accomplished engagement to a man her father labeled a “fiend from hell,” Nicki thought she would prefer   being dragged behind her father’s horse. How could matters have gotten in such a tangle? When the note arrived, she had forced herself to remain calm and not rush immediately to Rosewood. She had set out this evening filled with such high hopes, certain that with Teddy’s help she could extricate herself from an intolerable engagement to the odious Duke of Melton. If anyone could assist her out of such an untenable position, it was Teddy. Nicki nibbled her lower lip. Now she was free of the Duke, but she had not meant for the engagement to transfer to another. At times, her plans simply failed to go forward as she imagined. Still, this disaster could be laid entirely at her father’s door if one truly thought it out logically. If he had not burst into the room like a madman, she could have returned to Langley Hall with nothing more than injured dignity. No one would have been the wiser, and Blake Dylan would have failed in whatever cruel scheme he had concocted. Much as she hated to admit it, Nicki knew her father’s over-reaction stemmed from his love for her. Of that she had no doubt. She sighed. Her own feelings must be put aside for the moment. “Papa, I am sorry. Truly I am.” His shoulders stiffened and he drew himself up. “I’ve warned you about carrying on in such a careless manner, girl. Now look at the pickle you’ve landed us in. The Duke of Melton is a powerful man. It may not have been the best marriage, but it was a fitting one. He could make trouble for me.” Nicki urged Adonis forward until she and her father rode side by side. She stole a quick glance at his - face as she attempted to gauge his mood. “You seemed to know that wretched man who has stolen Teddy’s inheritance. Surely you can convince him this was an unfortunate misunderstanding.” “No, Nick. There’ll be no reasoning with him. The man hates me. Besides, he went to the trouble to bring this incident about. It doesn’t bode well for either of us.” “Why would a man who dislikes you purposefully get himself engaged to your daughter? It makes no sense.” Her father reached up and batted the tassel of his nightcap aside. “Blake Dylan has never behaved as expected. He must be in England because of his father ’s death. Now he’s got the title, the Earl of Diamond.” Her father shook his head dolefully. “They’re known for their coldness. What the devil were you about sneaking into his bedchamber in the middle of the night?” So Blake Dylan was an earl. Nicki tightened her hold on the reins, causing Adonis to jerk his head in protest. “I thought I was to meet with Teddy.” “Even so, you had no business behaving so recklessly. And just look at you, daughter. Dressed like a boy and riding astride. It’s a miracle Dylan went through with his plan. I’ve raised a hoyden. That man’s getting more trouble than he knows.” She bit back the retort that sprang to her lips. Her father did not understand—would never understand. He would never know how stifled she felt by the ridiculous restrictions she was forced to endure. Most likely he would have preferred that she climb Teddy’s trellis in a proper gown. She prided herself on   her cleverness in wearing her brother’s trousers, as the foresight had most likely saved her from serious injury. “There now, don’t go sulking on me. Truly, Nick, what am I to do with you? You charge off without a thought to your reputation—or mine, for that matter. I shudder to think what might’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up when I did.” “Heaven forbid that I might have gotten myself engaged or something equally as dreadful!” “Nicole Langley, I’ll have none of that!” Her father scowled in her direction. “You’ve put me in a devilish position. Melton was quite taken with the idea of having you for a bride. And what of Mina’s Season? Melton agreed to finance your sister’s coming out. I’ll not be getting tuppence out of Dylan!” Chagrin replaced Nicki’s ire. She had forgotten about Mina’s Season. If she were any sort of sister she would have quietly accepted the marriage to Melton, if only for the financial stability the match meant for her family. Her thoughts flashed to her stepmother. Her desire for martyrdom dissipated. “I will do my best to make the situation turn around, Papa. Mina will have her Season. I swear it. Even if I have to spend my inheritance from Grandmama to see that she does.” Her father reached over and pressed her hand. “That money’s to be yours upon your marriage—only yours.” “But I would gladly give up every shilling for Mina, Papa.” He sighed and ran his finger inside his collar. “You are my oldest, Nick, and my brightest. I know you’ll behave as a good daughter should. Besides, marriage - isn’t so bad, girl. I don’t know why you’ve got such an aversion to it.” The full moon ducked behind a cloud and Nicki silently praised its discretion. How could she tell her father that it had been his marital experiences that had soured her forever on the matrimonial state? She had been ten years old, one year younger than her brother Shelby was now, when her mother died. Her father had told her and Mina that Marguerite’s heart had failed, but Nicki had known the real truth. Nicki turned her thoughts to her father’s wedding three short months after Mother’s death. The woman her father married so swiftly had been the same he kept as his mistress. Angelica Dalton, the youthful widow of a baron from Yorkshire. Beautiful, elegant, charming… and Nicki hated her. “Nicki? Are you sulking?” Hiding the torment carefully from her father—from the world, she lifted her chin. “I am not afraid of marriage and I am not sulking. Do not worry, Papa, I surrender. If I do not marry your Earl of Diamond, it will be through no device of mine. I give you my word.” His face brightened immediately, just as she had known it would. “That’s my girl.” Nicki glanced at the dark silhouettes of trees on either side of them and the moonlight flitting through the branches, as nebulous as the fairies of her favorite childhood tales. She would honor her promise to her father and not plan any more daring escapades. Still—there were a great many natural occurrences that could interfere in a courtship. It was her duty to see to it that as many took place as humanly possible. She had avoided marriage for four years, struggling   against her father’s many attempts to get her engaged. She had made a vow long ago. A vow she could not break. Then with the delivery of two notes, a man had successfully entrapped her into a second engagement. Disastrous. Yet if there was one thing Nicki had learned in her twenty-two years on this earth, it was how to make use of a disaster. She shivered, recalling those silver eyes. Nicki feared she just may have met her match in the Earl of Diamond. 
 Chapter 2 
“What is he like, Nicki? Is he horribly old?” Mina, wearing a gown of rich magenta that set off her black hair and fair skin to perfection, paused next to Nicki’s canopied bed. With exquisite grace, she straightened the corner of the rose coverlet before she crossed the room to sit on the delicate stool in front of the dressing table. Nicki thrust her hands into the sleeves of her ice blue day gown while their maid, chubby red-headed Lucy, valiantly maneuvered the cloth to keep the seams from splitting. “He did not seem so very old, but it was somewhat dark.” “Heavens, Nicki! You could have been ravished! If Papa had not arrived when he did…” Nicki snapped her brows together in the manner her stepmother deplored. “Papa says he is an earl. Men of high birth do not go about ravishing young ladies… do they?” Mina’s perfect oval face took on a concerned expression. “But you were wearing Shelby’s trousers of all things! And you did climb in his bedroom window in the middle of the night. Perhaps he thought you   meant to involve him in a romantic tryst.” “That is utter nonsense! He is the one who sent the note.” Nicki waited for her sister to vacate the stool before she dropped onto the velvet cushion. “Can you believe it, Mina? He has taken Rosewood away from Teddy— and over cards, of all things! Teddy must be devastated!” Concern fled Mina’s expression to be replaced by disdain. “It was gambling that caused Teddy and his father to leave England one step ahead of their creditors. I’m truly amazed they kept Rosewood as long as they did.” “That is extremely ungenerous of you.” Lucy picked up a shiny gold brush and began to drag it through Nicki’s tangled hair while Mina fussed with several bottles and jars situated in a jumble atop the dressing table. Nicki watched her sister absently. “Teddy was broken-hearted when he and his father left for America. He swore to me he would return one day. This Earl of Diamond must have tricked him, as he tricked Papa and me.” Mina unstopped a bottle, dabbed the lid against her throat. She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Teddy was always a spineless boy who assisted you in all sorts of pranks, and then stood silently by while you took the blame and the punishment.” Nicki shook her head in denial. The movement jerked a strand of her hair temporarily from Lucy’s fingers. Mina simply did not understand. No one did. “I was not nearly so clever as he, and so I was caught.” “Devious, you mean. He never once stepped forward - to protect you. Heaven knows you’ve never been able to maintain a straight face in a lie, and you were just too honorable to try to protect yourself. Teddy knew that and he took advantage.” The words hit too close to the mark, but what Mina did not know was that it had been Nicki’s choice to protect Teddy. For reasons no one else knew, she had dared not allow Teddy to get into trouble. He was her best friend—her only friend—and she would have sacrificed much more than punishment to keep him safe. That was the way of their friendship. She sighed. “Discussing Teddy and the past does not help me out of the pickle I have gotten myself in.” At the sight of her own reflection above Nicki’s in the dressing table mirror, Mina reached up to smooth her gleaming black tresses. Nicki smiled. Not one hair appeared out of place. Mina’s sapphire blue eyes, a trait strong in the Langleys, met Nicki’s gaze in the glass. “You went there to seek Teddy’s help in freeing you from your betrothal to Melton. The mission was a success. You’re freed from your engagement.” Nicki made a face at her sister. “How insightful of you, Mina! You forget that I am now saddled with a different intended. My situation has not changed in the least.” “The Earl of Diamond. A romantic title. You shall be the Countess of Diamond. Besides, you did say the gentleman is not old. Is he handsome at all?” A vision came to Nicki of finely honed features set in uncompromising lines, eyes of the palest grey, wide shoulders and a stomach that resembled Emma’s washboard, breeches that clung to the prominent   muscles of his thighs like a second skin… “Good heavens, it is hot in here!” Nicki grabbed up a feather and beadwork fan and wielded it with a vengeance. “Is he handsome? I suppose so, in a ruthless sort of way. But he seemed entirely too used to ordering people about, and I do not intend to be one of those people!” Mina touched a pale hand to her throat, her eyes wide. “Did you say ruthless? I overheard Papa and Angelica arguing this morning. She said that since Dylan left England in disgrace, he’s turned into a colonial barbarian and would use his new skills to enact his final blow. What do you suppose she meant?” Lucy turned Nicki’s face toward the window to better accomplish her purposes in hair design. Nicki strained to meet her sister’s gaze. “The earl and Papa do not like each other, but as for the earl being a barbarian, he did not behave like one. It was Papa who shouted and waved his pistol about. Do you think the earl might have a change of heart after sleeping on the matter? Papa and I could not have presented a flattering impression.” Nearby, the decorative brass door handle rattled loudly, then the door burst open. Lucy shrieked and pins scattered. A boy with a head of riotous black curls stumbled into the room, all the while retaining a firm grasp on the doorknob. The Langley blue eyes shone from a face much like Mina’s. “He’s here, Nick! He looks like Satan hisself dressed all in black, and his eyes is freezin’ everyone!” “Shelby Langley!” Nicki pressed her hand to her chest, as though the gesture could slow her racing - heart. “You must apologize at once for frightening the life out of us!” Her brother shuffled his feet, tracing the pattern of a pink rose on the carpet with the toe of his shoe. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Nick, but I was in a hurry, y’understand.” “Of course, Shelby, now you may tell us who is below stairs.” Nicki’s mouth twitched, but her voice sounded sufficiently firm to her own ears. “Your intended, the Earl of Diamond. He looked straight through Simms. The old vulture actually stammered! Never saw Simms flustered. Thought the man was made of stone.” Nicki’s stomach fluttered as though a dozen butterflies had taken flight inside. She took a deep breath and forced the feeling away. “I have never seen Simms flustered, Shelby. I hope you did not come screaming from the hall like a banshee.” “The earl never seen me.” Shelby rolled his eyes. “He was too busy scarin’ the starch out of the servants.” “Thank you for informing us of the earl’s arrival, Shelby. I am certain he will first speak with Papa. I will await summons.” Her brother dashed from the room. Moments later his excited voice floated back to them as he found another audience. Clenching and unclenching her hands in her lap, Nicki realized her fingers had turned to ice. She twisted around to look up at her sister. Their gazes locked. Mina shrugged. With a smile Nicki jumped to her feet. Together they raced to the door and into the hall. Their slippered feet made no sound on the thick floral carpet as they sped down the long corridor to the landing.   Nicki halted at the end of the hallway where the gallery overlooked the foyer below, then crouched down to peer through the intricately carved posts of the banister. Mina’s hand pressed into her shoulder as she leaned over Nicki to gain a better view. Scanning the hall below, Nicki thought for a moment that Shelby had played her false. Then she saw the earl. He faced the opposite wall of the gallery intent on studying the painting that hung there. Nicki caught her breath. He seemed so at ease, as though he had stood in this particular foyer a thousand times. Nicki leaned forward to gain a better viewpoint. He was incredibly tall, just as she remembered from last night. But in clothing, he appeared much larger. She blushed at the thought. A charcoal jacket encased his broad shoulders and the muscles of his strong thighs flexed beneath black breeches. Her heart picked up several paces as she recalled the portion of his anatomy now hidden by the back of his coat. Knee-high Wellingtons hugged his calves; the glossy leather reflected the shimmer of light from the small chandelier overhead. This man resembled none of the local boys Nicki knew. Though the earl dressed no more extravagantly, the differences remained. Perhaps it was the proud set of his chin, or the confidence in his stride. The Earl of Diamond was a sleek blooded stallion amidst the neighborhood cart ponies. Nicki noted the way the ends of his black hair curled slightly over his collar to touch his shoulders. Savage, certainly, but in a refined way. The simple act of looking at him caused a breathless sort of anticipation to - curl in her stomach. Who was this man, and why had he endeavored to become engaged to her? The earl turned and Nicki jerked back, slamming into Mina’s legs. With a gasp, Mina grabbed for Nicki to right herself. The reverse momentum sent Nicki stumbling backward. With desperation born of sheer panic, Nicki tried to hang on to her sister. Her fingers slipped from Mina’s forearms and Nicki flew back several feet to land in a heap of muslin and petticoats on the hardwood floor. Slowly, she sat up, aware of a distinct discomfort in the vicinity of her tailbone. She was greeted by Mina’s horrified stare. Weakness washed over Nicki. Merciful heaven, she had fallen into the gallery. Hoping against hope, Nicki glanced to her right through the newel posts. Perhaps the incident had gone unnoticed. “Good morning, Lady Nicole.” Her heart lurched in her chest and heat flamed up her throat and into her cheeks. She got to her feet with as much grace as she could muster and moved to rest her palms on the rail. “My lord. Lovely morning, is it not?” Her voice came out stilted and unnatural. The corner of the earl’s mouth twitched slightly. “There is a bite in the air, but not overly unpleasant. I hope you did not injure yourself?” Nicki ignored the muffled squeak Mina uttered at his words and shook her head. “It was nothing, a snag in the carpeting. It catches me frequently.” He nodded, maintaining a serious mien, as though her explanation were entirely plausible. “I see. I have an aversion to snags myself. Always trips one up when one least expects it.”   She took a deep breath and clenched the railing. “Have you come to speak with my father?” Lord Diamond clasped his hands behind his back and Nicki noted the sudden tautness of his finely sculpted jawline. “I have.” She nibbled at her lower lip before rushing ahead. “He can be quite excitable, but means well. Last night…” “You are breathtaking this morning.” The words, softly spoken, sent Nicki’s thoughts fluttering. She reached up to touch her hair and remembered that Lucy had only styled one side before Nicki rushed from her bedchamber to spy on the earl. “Thank… you,” she said hesitantly, certain her cheeks must be as dark as red wine by now. She turned slightly so that the earl could view only her finished side. “I fear that a misunderstanding has…” “I am enjoying this conversation, but perhaps you could come down into the hall? Looking up at you is giving me a crick in my neck.” “Oh.” Frantic, Nicki glanced at Mina then back down at Lord Diamond. She could not go downstairs looking like this. The man had called her breathtaking but he would certainly expire for lack of air if he obtained a closer view of her odd taste in coiffures. “Nicki, could you come here, please,” called Mina from farther down the hall. “Coming!” Nicki responded immediately, then offered the earl an apologetic smile. “If you will please excuse me, my lord? It appears I am needed elsewhere.” She had not meant to sound quite so cheerful. His silver eyes sparkled. “So it seems. Good day, my lady.” - With a brief curtsy, Nicki lifted her chin and walked at a sedate pace from the gallery. She held herself in check until she had left the earl’s sight, then bolted down the corridor past the faces of Langley ancestors who frowned from dark canvases. Mina ushered Nicki through the white-framed doorway leading back into her room, then closed the door and collapsed against it. Heart pounding, Nicki faced her sister. “How positively awful!” Lucy glanced up from her position on the floor, pins protruding from her clenched lips. She shook her head in exasperation and returned to scouring the patterned carpet for the remainder of the lost hairpins. “I’m so sorry, Nicki.” Mina slipped down the smooth painted wood, as though her legs would no longer support her. Feeling as though she had entered a frightening new world, Nicki moved to sit next to her sister. She tucked her ankles beneath the hem of her dress. “He must think I spend more time on the floor than on my feet.” “I thought him quite understanding,” Mina offered. “He seems more frightening today. Did you notice he would not let me discuss the events of last night?” She twisted her hands together in her lap. “What am I to do, Mina?” With a slight smile, Mina covered Nicki’s cold fingers. “Papa will take care of everything. Don’t worry, sister. He would never marry you to a monster.” She wanted to believe Mina’s words, but Nicki could not shake the feeling of hanging suspended by a velvet ribbon over a vast precipice—a ribbon held by   the Earl of Diamond. “I am not so certain of that. At this point, Papa might wed me to the devil himself just to be free of me.”  Blake watched until the charming, disheveled Nicole slipped away. He realized with amusement, and a small degree of pleasure, that she had been spying on him. His humor dissipated as he dropped his gaze to the pristine white tile gleaming beneath his boots. It was time—time to face Jonathon Langley. He turned to examine a painting gracing the wall to his left. A watercolor of a summer garden. The soft hues darkened and disappeared as Blake slipped inside the dim room of his mind that housed his memories. He had been hardly more than a boy. Young, headstrong, naive. Billington would have gladly murdered him then, but had instead chosen humiliation. Blake vowed this time would be different. This time he would hold all the cards. Blake moved away from the painting to survey the other framed pieces of art gracing the combination floral and stripe papered walls. His gaze flickered over his reflection in a mirror across the hall, then paused on a vase of hothouse flowers. In more ways than one, Billington would find him much changed. Blake had grown from the boy into the exact image of his father, Barrett Dylan, dead these past two months. The same hardness shaped his mouth, the same coldness infused his grey eyes. - Diamond eyes—a trait that had remained strong in the Dylans throughout the centuries. Over time, Blake had learned what a powerful weapon his gaze could be. It was just one of the weapons he planned to employ against Billington. Muffled voices could be heard from down the hall. Blake turned and watched the butler approach. The man walked silently on the tips of his highly polished shoes, as though tacks hurt his heels. “His Grace will see you in his study.” Blake set his jaw. The time had come. “If your lordship will follow me.” The butler spun abruptly and glided away in the direction from which he had just come. Blake’s riding boots impacted against the tile with crisp clicks, but the slim man before him moved without a sound. After passing several closed doors, the butler paused next to an open doorway, turned and bowed stiffly. “The Earl of Diamond, Your Grace.” Jonathon Langley met Blake at the entrance to the room. “Diamond.” He held out his hand to Blake. “Thank you, Simms, that’ll be all.” Blake took the other man’s hand in a firm grip. A man’s handshake revealed a great deal, and Billington’s felt hot and moist. Blake glanced to his right, but the butler had disappeared. The duke ushered him into the room and closed the door. Blake paused next to an authentic-looking suit of armor to orient himself with his new surroundings. He had passed from the subdued elegance of the hall into what resembled a crowded attic. As his eyes adjusted to the low lighting, his hearing sharpened until he heard the crackle of a fire. Wind whistled through a   window not seated properly. The duke slapped his hands together, then rubbed them vigorously. “This way.” Blake followed Billington across a carpet that appeared to writhe beneath his feet in swirls of black, brown, maroon, and blue. The duke skillfully avoided a stool shaped like a mushroom, and a half dozen bronze serpents littering the floor in no logical pattern. Billington moved behind an immense desk of scarred English oak situated before an arched window. With a sigh, he took a seat and motioned Blake to an armchair on the opposite side of the desk. Blake carefully dodged a table nearby that leaned precariously on three legs and sat in a high-backed chair. The cushion had little padding and left much to be desired in the way of comfort. Blake also noted he faced the window, which on a brighter day would have been a distinct disadvantage. The duke cleared his throat, then stared at the surface of his desk as though he had never seen it before. He busied himself with moving aside several untidy stacks of papers. While Blake waited, he took in Billington’s burgundy jacket, which appeared to be constructed of the same fabric as the heavy velvet curtains framing the narrow window at his back. His cravat had been skillfully tied, but had a tendency to drift off toward the left shoulder. A dollop of some unrecognizable food item stained the white shirt beneath the tie and became visible each time the cravat strayed. It looked like a great brown eye winking at him. Blake crossed his legs, folded his hands in his lap, and fastened his gaze on Billington’s flushed face. - “Well now!” Evidently satisfied that he had cleared a sufficient spot in the midst of the disorder to rest his elbows, the duke cleared his throat again and ran a finger beneath the edge of his cravat. “Good of you to come. I… before we discuss your marriage to my daughter, I want to put certain matters behind us.” Blake smiled slightly. “Oh? I had thought those matters best left to their… fitful slumber.” “Not that easy, my boy. I know it was you who sabotaged my business ventures. Cleaned me out. Cost Nicki her Season in London. I’m willing to forgive and forget that nonsense and to… welcome you into my family.” The speech, forced from a tightly clenched jaw, lacked the proper inflection necessary to lend it truth. Blake raised a brow. “I have been in America these past six years, Billington—as you well know. Since it was your actions that caused my banishment from England, I hardly believe you are now willing to embrace me as a son.” “Yes, well…” Jonathon fumbled in his jacket and withdrew a handkerchief. He mopped the perspiration from his forehead and stuffed the linen back inside his pocket. “I tried to set that right. Went to your father and told him I was mistaken—but Diamond wouldn’t hear none of it. Said you was too headstrong and the entire ugly business would be a good lesson to you.” The words pierced Blake’s defenses and struck a nerve. He tensed. “That sounds like my father.” Offering a vague smile, he forced himself to hold on to indifference. “In the end, perhaps he was not far from the mark. I have done quite well for myself in America. I shall be in a position to amply provide for   your daughter.” “She was betrothed to the Duke of Melton, y’know. We had a marriage contract in place and Melton agreed to pay off my creditors and finance a Season for my younger daughter Wilhemina. Said he’d provide a residence in town. You saw to it that I lost my place in town.” Yes, he had. That particular victory he celebrated in Boston with an attractive young widow. Her late husband, rest his soul, had left her an excellent wine collection. Blake tented his fingers and watched Billington for a long moment. “Melton’s offer was generous. From my brief encounter with the Lady Nicole—I would say overly generous. But she is now engaged to me. I, on the other hand, will not buy a bride.” Billington methodically cracked each knuckle of his left hand. The chords of his neck stood out, and Blake mentally gauged how much further the man could be pushed before he exploded. “I ask that you reconsider, Diamond, or by God I’ll accept Melton’s offer after all.” Blake gave a shout of laughter. “Nonsense. Melton would not come within miles of a ruined girl, though she might possibly be quite striking when dressed appropriately. You have only my offer—or install her in a convent. I would discourage the latter suggestion. Your daughter does not strike me as possessing the proper temperament for a life of religious seclusion.” “Damn it all, Dylan! It was your doing that got her into your room in the first place! I don’t know what you’re about but I won’t allow my girl to be caught in the middle of our feud.” Jonathon stood abruptly, - sending his chair teetering toward the window before it righted itself with a muffled thunk. “I told you I tried to talk to your father. He said you were already bound for America.” Blake unsteepled his hands and ran one long index finger across the battered wooden chair arm. The Diamond signet ring, the face of a wolf with diamonds for eyes, caught his attention for a moment. “I agree you were not the sole player in that little scenario and I suppose I should feel fortunate that you chose to drag me before my father rather than call me out.” The memory came back in a flash like death-cold lightening. Langley, furious, demanding Blake’s punishment. Then the unyielding anger in his father’s silver eyes. Blake thrust aside the memories. “After all these years I continue to wonder if my honor would have been better served by a duel rather than banishment.” Billington moistened his dry lips with his tongue, then glanced to a table close by. Blake followed his gaze to several crystal decanters filled with amber liquid positioned on a glass tray surrounded by sparkling glasses. “You might’ve told me at the time that you were acting for another,” murmured the duke. “You were not open to discussion, as I recall.” Blake laughed again, the sound a harsh rasp in his ears. “The other party involved was my friend. If he felt it his duty to come forward, he would have.” The duke lost whatever inner battle he had waged and strode to the side table. He lifted the stopper from one decanter, splashed a generous serving into a glass, and started to drink. He stiffened suddenly, and raised   the glass in question. Blake waved his hand in denial. Billington downed the liquid, gasped, then slammed the glass onto the tray with a clatter of crystal. After squaring his shoulders, he turned to face Blake. The polished mahogany wall at the man’s back glowed with an inner light and Billington’s face appeared deathly pale in contrast. “The whole damned business got out of hand, Dylan. We’d be better off to forget it ever occurred.” “As I said, I did not come here to discuss the past, but the future—of which your daughter is now a part. Am I correct in my assumption?” The duke took a deep breath. He looked as though he might toss his breakfast. Blake knew the feeling of another person maneuvering your life well. Billington lifted his gaze to Blake. “I see no alternative. What date did you have in mind? Perhaps the fall?” “I have business to attend to in America, therefore I must insist on expediting the wedding. You shall have a month to prepare.” “That isn’t much time. Nick hasn’t had time to get used to you yet, or to the idea of leaving home.” “Such is life. My business always takes precedence over my personal life.” “Very well.” Langley stood straighter, striving for dignity. “I must ask one thing, Diamond. You’ve refused to cooperate in my other requests, but there are several things I must insist on.” Blake leaned forward, resting his elbows on the chair arms. He feigned boredom. “Yes?” Emotions dueled across Billington’s face like a well-enacted theatrical event. Anger, frustration, wounded pride. “Nicki’s a fine girl and she deserves - happiness. If you plan on getting revenge against me through her—then I must withdraw my acceptance of your offer. I’ll not have my girl’s heart broken.” Blake leaned back slowly, linking his hands behind his neck. “Still doubting my honor, Billington?” The duke’s color returned in a rush. “Devil take it, she’s my daughter! I won’t see her done in.” “You may rest assured I do not go about preying on innocent females, no matter what you once believed. And your other request?” Billington made a move as though he would once again pop his knuckles, then thought better of the gesture and instead rested one hand between two buttons of his shirt and the other behind his back. “I don’t mind having a quiet wedding here, but I’d like to have my close family present. Nicki’s my oldest, y’understand.” Blake rose and held out his hand. This time Billington’s grip was dry and firm. “I have no objection to a few family members being present. My steward shall come around tomorrow to retrieve the necessary documents.” “But… won’t you be wanting to see Nicki now?” After considering the suggestion briefly, Blake shook his head. “I do not believe so. She and I will see quite enough of each other when we are wed.” Billington scowled and ran a finger beneath the edge of his cravat once again. The brown spot flashed, then ducked back beneath the folds of the tie. Blake’s lips twitched, but the duke appeared too preoccupied to notice. “There’ll be hell to pay when I tell her Mina won’t be getting her Season.”   Blake maneuvered his way through the collection of downtrodden furniture and gaudy figurines to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, then glanced back at Billington. “If Lady Nicole is displeased with the price you negotiated, that is your problem—not mine.” “But…” Billington bit off the words. A thought occurred to Blake. “I nearly forgot one stipulation to the contract. You will forego any claim to the inheritance Lady Nicole will receive upon our marriage. Good day, sir.” When he left the room, the door closed sharply behind him. He heard Billington let out a roar. The butler appeared, silent as a cat, to hand over Blake’s cloak and hat. As Blake left the house, he paused on the front porch to draw the fresh air deep into his lungs—and waited for the familiar thrill of success to fill him. He should have been exultant. After all, victory belonged to him. So why did he not feel like the victor? Blake donned his beaver hat and flung his cloak around his shoulders. A lightness entered his gait as he strode down the stone steps, then took the graveled path leading around the side of the house to the stables. The courtyard stretched before him in quiet solitude. Banbury, his bay gelding, stood tied to a carved railing in front of the stables, head drooped, one hoof crooked, waiting for Blake to finish his business. The thought of Jonathon Langley facing his own daughter set a smile tugging at the corners of Blake’s mouth, though he did not envy the man the task before him. Last night, Blake had witnessed the lengths to - which the Lady Nicole would go in order to get her way. She would not take her father’s news calmly. The grin broke free, the expression foreign and unnatural. It had been a long time since anything had truly amused him. From what he had seen of Nicole Langley thus far, the entertainment had only just begun.   
Chapter 3 
Branches of the shrubbery grabbed at Nicki’s hair and clothes and scraped her hands as she emerged into the tiny clearing near the abhorrent trellis of Rosewood. Her boots sank slightly into the softness of decaying leaves. A three-quarter moon reflecting off the aged bricks of the manor house granted Nicki plenty of light. Still, she eyed the climb with trepidation. Certain parts of her anatomy still suffered from last night’s expedition, but she simply had no choice in the matter. She must speak with the earl. With a sigh, she bunched the skirt of her riding habit and threw the voluminous folds over one arm. Her father had made such a clatter over her use of Shelby’s trousers she could not justify using them again. Before leaving the house, she had taken the precaution of donning her thickest pair of ribbed silk stockings and her riding boots. They would have to suffice. She grasped the latticework with one hand and stepped up, only to swing backward and slam into the side of the house. With effort, she regained her balance - and dropped to the ground. Several seconds passed before she gathered enough courage to brave the trellis again. Battling the weight of her skirts, she managed only a few yards before she ran out of breath. She looked up, gauging her progress. Had the window been so high last night? Determined, she pressed on. She could have come to call in the daylight hours, but Lucy, the cowardly wench, had nearly fainted at the suggestion that she accompany Nicki to Rosewood. Obviously her cowardice stemmed from Shelby’s tirade about the earl’s resemblance to the devil. Mina had been equally as stubborn. Nicki thought her sister’s reticence quite unbecoming, since it was for her future Nicki intended to bargain. Several minutes later she reached the top of the trellis. Reaching for the window frame with one hand, Nicki secured her grip. Her arm trembled as she pulled herself level with the glass. Merciful heavens. The window was closed. Nicki pushed at the frame in an attempt to raise the window, but she could not get enough leverage to hold on and use her strength at the same time. One of the slats snapped beneath her foot and Nicki slipped. Frantic, she hung on with one hand while fighting free of the skirts still draped over her other arm. Her fingers scraped along the wood. She grabbed the sill with her other hand. With all her weight on one foot, the other piece of lattice gave way. Desperate, Nicki dug in with her fingers. Her heart thundered in her ears. Then she thought she heard the screech of the window sliding open.   “What in the…?” Nicki’s fingers scraped along the wood toward the edge. The moment she thought she would surely fall, strong hands grasped her wrists. Swinging freely in the air, Nicki finally summoned the courage to open her eyes and look up. She met the clear gaze of the Earl of Diamond. Relief washed over her, then a surge of temper surfaced through the fear. “How could you have closed the window so tightly!” Surprised amusement flickered across the earl’s face as he dragged her toward the opening. “How thoughtless of me, Nicole. May I call you Nicole? We are soon to be married, after all.” Nicki’s skirts snagged on the broken sill, leaving her hanging half in and half out the window, though blessedly safe. “I prefer Nicki, thank you.” She lifted her hips and attempted to scoot further inside the room while the earl tugged with admirable energy. “No one calls me Nicole but…” Nicki’s words drifted off as she realized her boots had slipped slightly. She curled her toes, but to no avail. One boot then the other slid from her feet. It seemed an eternity before a soft crackle and two clunks sounded from below. “Oh, my. I hope no one was passing by.” Now the earl laughed with genuine humor. His face lost much of the harsh arrogance. “I believe you are the only person with whom I am acquainted who is inclined to moonlit climbs, my dear.” After gaining a better hold on her upper arms, he - stepped slightly to the right and pulled. His breathing intensified. Nicki feared her arms would pop out of their sockets, or her skirt would be torn from her body, before Lord Diamond would admit defeat. Abruptly, she popped free. When her right foot encountered the side of the casement, the force of her kick propelled the earl several feet back into the room at an alarming speed. With Nicki clinging tightly to his neck, he stumbled backward, all the while struggling to maintain his balance. She cried out—a long, drawnout sound. His footing gave way and they hit the floor with a bone-jarring crunch that abruptly silenced her. “Thank you, Nicole. That was exceedingly helpful.” His voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating through her fingertips. With her hands pinned between their chests, she could feel the steady beat of his heart and the flutter of her own. Her entire being burned with embarrassment. The earl had gallantly cushioned her with his own body. “I… I pride myself on being helpful.” Nicki lifted her face from his pleasantly cologned neck and, after pushing her hair back from her face, gazed into his eyes. “I am quite resourceful, you see.” His fleeting smile caused her stomach to clench. “I am quickly discovering that fact.” Nicki crawled off him and scrambled to her feet so she might straighten her skirts. Her skin tingled and burned and she feared she might never catch her breath. The feel of his touch lingered on her upper arms. She promptly bumped into a side table, sending crystal bottles clattering against each other. Fingers trembling, she swiftly straightened the   items into what she hoped resembled their former order, then risked a peek at the earl to see if he had noticed. He was on his feet. The only sign of agitation was the rigid thrust of his fingers through his tousled dark hair. A stray lock slipped over his forehead, giving him a rakish look. With a determined tilt of her chin, she schooled her features into what she hoped resembled a brave expression. He wore a white shirt, the ends untucked from the waistband of his black trousers. The ends of his cravat hung loose and she could see dark chest hair at the opening of his shirt. Heat suffused her cheeks once more and she dropped her gaze to his feet—which were bare. Suddenly self-conscious, Nicki wriggled her toes beneath her skirts, acutely aware she wore only stockings as her boots lay amongst the rose bushes outside. An entirely too intimate situation by half. The Earl of Diamond strolled to the bedside table where he turned up the oil lamp. After locking his hands behind his back, he trained his gaze on her. How she hated that unruffled manner of his. Not to mention his stern expression. It most certainly boded a lecture. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” She took a fortifying breath. “A matter of the utmost urgency.” He arched a brow. “Where you are concerned, my dear, is there any other kind?” Nicki chose to ignore his sarcasm and instead scanned the room. She paused, then studiously ignored, blankets turned down invitingly on the enormous canopied bed. She spied a side chair that stood against the wall near the window. Nicki hurried - toward it. “Please, make yourself comfortable, sir. We have much to discuss.” She perched on the edge of the chair to face the earl. “Oh? Then I shall take a seat. Pray continue.” He pulled a chair away from the wall near the bedside table and sat in the center of the room facing his unexpected guest. Nicki met his gaze steadily, which was somewhat difficult as he had the most piercing silver eyes. It seemed an unfair advantage, but for the moment she was pleased to have his audience, and the devil take the pesky details. “I understand you met with my father this morning on the subject of our forthcoming marriage.” Lord Diamond tensed, though he tried to appear casual as he linked his hands behind his neck. “That is no secret,” he replied. Nicki’s eyes were drawn to the corded muscles of his forearms. “And the content of that meeting is strictly between your father and myself.” Her temper flared. She jerked her gaze back to his face. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but that is a deucedly obtuse thing to say!” “Please, Nicole—if you are going to continue dressing me down, at least call me by my given name. Blake will do.” She averted her gaze from the opening of his shirt front, which had spread wider due to his pose. “Blake?” Should she use his first name at this stage of their relationship? “Oh—that is a nice name. I, on the other hand, do not like to be called Nicole. Only my stepmother calls me that. At any rate, my lor… Blake, since I am the one marrying you and not my father, I   believe the content of the meeting certainly does involve me. I was somewhat set down when you left the Hall directly after speaking with Papa. I had thought you would be interested in—in relaying information.” “Ah.” His smile flashed and her heart leapt in response. “I now see I should have been more astute. I assure you I shall not be so remiss in the future. Certainly not if my neglect results in you risking your life in the middle of the night.” Nicki waved her hand impatiently. “It was my fault entirely for paying too close attention to proprieties. A gown, even a riding habit, is not the logical attire for climbing. Still, you could have left your window slightly cracked, as a gentleman should.” “Since you will not be risking your neck with such antics in the future, I see no need to belabor the issue.” “Of course. I will get to the point. Blake, I have come to convince you to change your mind.” He removed his hands from his neck and crossed his arms over his chest. “Pray tell, Nicole, do you expect me to back out of our engagement because you have a penchant for climbing in my bedroom window?” Amusement trembled in his words. “I find the habit rather endearing, though I will unlock the library doors from now on so you may enter my room in a more conventional manner.” She nibbled at her lower lip for a moment. “You have missed my point, sir, and I believe you did so on purpose. I wish you to reconsider following through with the contingencies of the marital contract my father worked out with Melton.” “I will not discuss these matters with you and you will go at once to your father and inform him his tactic - did not work.” Blake drew his dark brow together in icy impatience. Not even her father blew hot and cold so quickly. “You have proven you are well acquainted with tactics, sir, more so than my father. He would never condone my coming here like this—or ask that I petition another man on his behalf.” Blake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. When he tented his fingers the eyes in the ring on his index finger sparked as though the creature depicted had blinked. “I am unconvinced, but pray continue.” The image of Mina’s tear-filled blue eyes appeared in Nicki’s mind and lent her fortitude. Her sister deserved a happy future and Nicki meant to see she was not disappointed. “My father told me none of the details of your conversation, but I was able to learn some of the finer points from another. Having done so, I must beg you to reconsider.” Nicki rushed on, sensing he intended to interrupt. “Several years ago, Papa suffered extreme financial losses. He sold off all he could, including our house in London and several properties in Yorkshire. He was still unable to meet his obligations. There was no chance of a Season for me.” When his scowl deepened, she continued before he could interrupt. “Oh, I never regretted that fact. I am quite content here with my horses. But Mina is not like me. She will be eighteen next month and she has dreamed of going to London. You see, she is a beauty and I am certain she will be a sensation.” “Quite touching.” The dryness in his voice assured her he had not been moved in the least. Nicki pressed her hands together in her lap to keep   from twisting them and revealing her anxiety. “Papa cannot go about London if it is known that creditors are hounding him. Mina might be thought a fortune hunter.” A muscle flinched in his square jaw. “You ask a great deal of a man that you met in the darkness of his bedchamber. If I can have you without stipulations, why should I be willing to sacrifice anything?” Slowly, Nicki inhaled, then released her breath. She must go forward. “If you do not agree to my requests, I shall simply disappear. It would break my heart, but I would do so rather than marry you.” The earl shook his head curtly. “Your threat does not frighten me.” “It should. You left England in disgrace once. Now that you are the Earl of Diamond, you have the opportunity to start afresh. That will be difficult when word spreads of your shabby treatment of the Duke of Billington’s daughter. How will London react when they learn the poor girl was already engaged to be married…” “Enough! You have made your point.” He no longer bothered to mask his anger. “I did not wish to resort to such measures, sir, but you arrogantly refused to see reason. After all—is it not your fault that I am no longer engaged to Melton?” A clock on the bedside table chimed the hour in delicate tones. Midnight. So late? Blake turned toward the sound, throwing his harsh features into startling display. The coldness of his voice reached out to surround her. “You may not realize it now, but I have saved you from a hellish life chained to a lecherous old man. I - feel I have already been charitable despite the fact that your father once took something from me that can never be replaced. His suffering is mild in comparison to my own.” Nicki recalled terrifying stories Teddy had told her as a child of men turning into wolves at the stroke of midnight. If she had ever met a man that met the description of a predator, it was the Earl of Diamond. Her gaze studied Blake carefully, but he remained outwardly unchanged. She rubbed her arms to ward off the chill. “I know nothing of what ill you harbor toward my father, and I will not judge who has suffered the greater harm. Are you willing to accept my terms?” A long silence met her words. Then the earl chuckled, causing Nicki to start in surprise. “What a manipulative little negotiator you are. I should have met with you this morning. Yes, Nicole, I agree to your terms. I will send my man around first thing in the morning with a letter to your father outlining our discussion tonight, and I will come myself in the afternoon for tea.” “You will not reveal my part in your decision to change your mind?” “I will keep your secret, but only because it suits me to do so.” Nicki leapt from the chair, pressing her hands together over her heart. “I promise you, sir, you will not regret your generosity!” The earl rose and stepped toward Nicki. Scarcely controlled power surged beneath the polish of his movements. Her breath quickened. All cognitive thought fled when he stood close. His scent surrounded   her, hypnotized her. She had not realized the weakness she had for sandalwood and spice. “Generosity is it? Perhaps I should demand payment.” “Payment?” She stared up into his face, mesmerized by the tenor of his voice and the intensity of his gaze. “I have nothing to give.” One side of his mouth turned up slightly at her words and Blake reached out to cup her chin. Nicki shivered as the heel of his thumb traced her cheekbone. “You are mistaken, my dear. Your simple gifts are worth a king’s ransom.” She fought the rising heat that coiled inside her at his words. What was happening to her? “I have given you nothing, my lord.” His low, bitter laughter shattered the moment and Nicki jerked away from his touch. “Not yet, but I will keep a tally of your debts, Nicole. When the time comes, I shall demand payment in full.” “You toy with me, sir. I do not like it.” He grasped her upper arm in one hand. “You had best be going before I come to my senses and exact recompense here and now.” Nicki forced away the last moments of their encounter and chose instead to bask in the glow of her good fortune. She allowed Blake to drag her toward the door leading to the outer passage and waited as he released her arm only long enough to retrieve a pair of Wellingtons from just inside the entrance. The light from the wall lanterns along the hall reflected off the highly polished boots as Blake donned first one then the other. He grabbed her arm again to pull her toward the staircase. - Nicki could have danced for joy. Her father’s debts would be paid; Mina would have her Season; and she had been the one to bring it about. She stumbled on the first stair. Reality intruded and she took her eyes off the broad back in front of her to concentrate on maintaining her footing. When they reached the first floor, Blake veered off to the left and pulled Nicki into the library. She tripped in the darkness, but his strong grip saved her from falling. He paused only long enough to ensure she had recovered her balance, then he drew the heavy drapes away from the French doors. Moonlight touched the veranda and shimmered across the stone path winding through the garden. Soon heavy blooms would weight the thorny stalks of rose bushes that gave Rosewood its name. Their heady fragrance would permeate the air like a room full of debutantes. But now, they sadly needed pruning. As a child, Nicki had believed the beautiful garden enchanted. It was as though a curse had been placed over Rosewood and only magic could return the allure and grace it had once known. Blake stopped without warning and Nicki bounced off his formidable back. “Oh! Excuse me, I had no warning you were through dragging me about.” He glanced around at her and Nicki saw the white flash of his teeth in the darkness. “I am far from through with you, my little adventuress. I believe your boots fell in these bushes.” She looked doubtfully at the menacing shrubbery where nasty thorns certainly lurked in the dark leaves, and offered Blake her brightest smile. “Shall I hold the stems back while you search?”   A muscle in his jaw flinched slightly, and Nicki could have sworn his silver eyes sparkled. “I have a better plan. While you are retrieving your footwear, I shall go to the stables and saddle a horse.” Nicki touched his arm, then snatched her hand away quickly. “I am perfectly capable of finding my way home, Blake. I have been coming here since I was a small child.” He reached out to lift her chin. “I realize you are a frighteningly resourceful female, but I am your intended. This is as good a time as any for you to realize that as my wife, you will not risk your neck unless I am present.” Nicki frowned. He had sounded just like her father. “That is arrogant and self-serving. I shall never have any fun at all, especially if I must await your company.” Blake laughed and withdrew his hand from beneath her chin. “I am an experienced guide in adventurous matters, my dear. I think you will find I can take you on wondrous expeditions.” “Oh dear!” “I did not mean to shock you, Nicole.” She shook her head. “Shock me? Oh, no, your proposal sounds most intriguing. I have always enjoyed a rousing adventure. No, I was merely recalling your plan to come for tea tomorrow. I will not be home from my fishing expedition until after one o’clock. I hope that does not wreak havoc with your schedule.” “Fishing expedition?” She grinned. “My brother’s blood price for secrecy. I find bribery forestalls scenes such as we experienced last night.” “I have not been angling since I left England. - Perhaps I shall join you. When will you be going?” The thought of spending more time with him, even with Shelby present, sent alarm shooting through Nicki. “We will leave at nine o’clock in the morning. It’s dreadfully cold in the morning.” He shrugged. “I think I can survive.” “And wet. It’s sure to rain.” “I shall be certain to take all necessary precautions.” Nicki bit her lip, thinking furiously. “Shelby has only one pole…” “I have a pole, I have a cloak to protect me from the rain, and I am generally out of bed long before nine o’clock. I shall come for you in the morning.” Unable to argue further without being rude, she sighed. “Shelby shall adore your company, but are you certain?” “Nine it is. Now, I distinctly recall seeing one boot land in that direction.” He motioned toward the largest of the rose bushes, then strode away into the darkness. Somehow, the garden seemed more sinister without his presence at her side. She shook off the sensation. As she carefully separated branches in search of her riding boots, she wondered if perhaps she had been too generous in her bargaining. Mina awaited Nicki’s return to hear the results of the meeting with the earl this evening. She would be ecstatic when Nicki told her she would have her Season. It seemed everyone would be getting something from this union. Everyone, that is, except her.    Blake saddled Banbury quickly and grabbed one of the worn cloaks hanging on a peg near the stable door. He found Nicole waiting for him near the front porch and drew his horse to a halt beside her. “You came to Rosewood on foot?” In the moonlight, her face appeared as pale and ethereal as that of an angel. “I did.” “Then you shall ride with me back to Langley Hall.” The tightening of her lovely mouth dispelled any resemblance to heavenly creatures. “I believe I shall walk alongside your horse, thank you just the same.” With a slight pressure of one knee, Blake urged Banbury to sidestep closer to Nicole. “The hour grows late. If you are afraid, let me assure you I shall comport myself with the utmost restraint.” “I am not afraid!” Nicole lifted her chin. “I merely felt some concern for the horse.” Blake laughed. “This great beast? He will scarcely notice the addition of a person as light as thistledown. Come. Give me your hand.” “Very well, but do not say I did not warn you.” Blake tossed the frayed edges of cloak aside, bent down and grabbed Nicole’s wrist. He then half lifted, half tossed her onto the horse so that she sat sidewise in front of him with her fanny nestled between his legs. Nicole, after flashing him an alarmed glance, sat ramrod straight and clenched her hands beneath the folds of her skirt. He wondered at her sudden shyness. “Lean into me.” Ignoring his suggestion, she continued to balance herself over the neck of the horse until Blake took the reins, thus encasing her within his arms. - “Lean against me. I will not allow you to fall, Nicole.” Hesitant, she did as he suggested. Her head came to just beneath his chin and Blake could not resist breathing deeply of the fresh rose scent of her hair. Certain now that Nicole rested securely before him, Blake pressed his heels into Banbury’s sides and the horse set off. Blake listened to the steady clop of shod hooves striking the ground and of the night creatures with their shrill and haunting calls. As a child, Blake had been frightened of the dark. As an adult, he welcomed its discretion. Nicole stubbornly faced the road ahead, as though he would go away if she ignored him long enough. A chill in the air made tiny puffs of mist before their mouths. “Are you cold?” he asked. She stiffened. “A little.” “Share my cloak.” Without awaiting permission, Blake arranged the wool fabric over her shoulders. “You will have to hold on to the edges. I fear I haven’t enough hands.” She turned her back more squarely against his chest and took the ends of the cloak. Their fingers brushed and Blake heard a quick intake of breath. “Thank you,” she whispered as she maneuvered the cloth so she could keep her head outside the garment. Blake forced his attention to the road ahead, though such a feat took every ounce of will power he possessed. Nicole fit against his heart as though she had been made especially to rest there. He cleared his throat.   “Are you warm enough now?” She nodded. A tendril of her hair brushed his nose and got it to itching. “Why did you come out into the night without a cloak?” He had to take the reins in one hand and reach up to scratch. “This habit is of a heavy fabric and I knew the walk would get my blood flowing to keep me comfortable.” Blake’s blood flowed as well, but from the proximity of one certain young lady, not from any amount of exercise. And he was decidedly uncomfortable. “Have you no fear of bandits or wild creatures of the night with an appetite for tender morsels such as yourself?” She sat up slightly in order to glance around. “I think you are the most dangerous creature in this vicinity, my lord, and I seem to have fallen directly into your clutches.” “Me?” He chuckled. “I am harmless.” Her eyes glowed large and dark in her pale face. “Would Teddy agree with such an observation?” The mention of Bartholomew set Blake’s teeth on edge, like biting down on ice-cold metal. “He got as he deserved. That is all I intend to say on the matter.” In the undulating moonlight, Blake could see Nicole nibble at her lower lip. “Could you not have taken something else from him? Why Rosewood?” If she knew all he had taken from Teddy, she would leap off the horse and run screaming into the woods. But it was nothing in comparison to all Teddy had stolen from him. “He had nothing to offer—nothing but a vague promise of gaining the inheritance of a young girl. I chose not to wait for him to victimize an heiress.” - She scrutinized him, as though hoping to see past his cool veneer and cryptic remarks. Finally, she sighed. “You must be mistaken. Teddy would never—” Purposefully, Blake pressed his heels into Banbury’s sides and the horse surged forward, tossing Nicole against Blake’s chest and silencing her defense of Bartholomew. “I had best get you home before I have your father once again scouring the neighborhood in his nightclothes armed with a weapon.” Nicole curled her fingers into the fabric of his cloak to better secure her balance. “You have a disagreeable habit of interrupting me, my lord.” “Oh? I believe you said I was the only predator about these parts. Let me assure you, Nicole, that you are well protected in my hands.” She turned her face away, but not before Blake saw the shadow of uncertainty flicker across her features. “You have a strange notion of protection.” “Not really.” One day Nicole might understand that his actions had saved her from a fortune hunter, that she was the heiress Teddy had intended to fleece. But the time had not yet come for that revelation. She would not believe him if he spoke now. “It is your desire that I trust you to protect me when you have not bothered to hide your dislike of my father?” He shrugged. “You are not your father.” No, Blake did not intend to inflict any hardship on Nicole. Her slender body stiffened in his arms. “That is where you are wrong, my lord. If it is in my power to keep any of my family from harm—I will do so.”   “Beware.” He leaned close to whisper the words in her ear. “You traverse paths best avoided, my lovely Nicole.” Once again she twisted in his arms to stare into his face. So lovely. So determined. “You ask too much. Surely you have realized by now that I do not frighten easily.” Moments passed before Blake realized he gripped the reins tightly. Then Banbury broke through the line of stately trees and the stone facade of Langley Hall loomed grey and forbidding before them. A strange tightness grabbed at Blake’s chest. “There is a first time for everything, my dear.”  Nicki watched Blake ride into the darkness, his cloak billowing behind him. A large, forbidding specter. Then the night swallowed him, or he became a part of it—Nicki could not be certain which. She was shivering when she opened the front door and slipped inside. A single lamp burned low on a nearby table and aided Nicki in her journey up the stairs. Another wall lantern flickered, guiding her down the hall to her bedchamber. As she softly closed the door, she heard a rustle and a squeal and turned just as Mina leapt from the bed and rushed to meet her. “I’ve been beside myself, Nicki Langley! Where have you been all this time?” Nicki shook the skirts of her habit, sending leaves and twigs fluttering to the rose carpet. “I hid in the woods and watched the earl’s window until I saw a light.” - Anxiously, Mina searched Nicki’s face. “Did he agree to your proposal?” “My argument was simply irrefutable. He could not resist me.” “Do you mean it?” Mina wrapped Nicki in a tight embrace. “Oh, Nicki! I’m to have a Season?” Surrounded by the freshness of lavender and her sister’s joy, Nicki admitted the risks she had taken this night had been worth each nerve-harrowing moment. “He agreed to pay Papa’s debts, rent a townhouse, and finance your Season.” Mina gave one last squeeze before releasing her. “You are the best sister! I will never forget what you have sacrificed for Papa and for me. I know you always believed you would marry for love.” “I want your happiness, Mina, and that means going to London. I told the earl you would take Society by storm. You must not let me down.” Nicki let Mina pull her onto the high, canopied bed. She understood her younger sister’s excitement and wished she could share in her pleasure. Tucking her legs beneath her, Nicki watched as her sister perched on her knees, then grabbed up a pillow and squeezed it to her nightrail-clad breast. “Tell me everything. What did he say? Was he difficult?” “Most certainly he was difficult. He is like no one I have ever met in my life.” Nicki plucked at a spot of mud on her skirts. “Yet… somehow, I sense his hardness is a facade. What do you suppose could have occurred between he and Papa to cause such bitterness?” “I wish I knew. Papa and Angelica did not mention the reason—as though it were by an agreement of   silence between them.” Nicki shook her head in amazement. “You were eavesdropping again. Goodness, Mina, one day you will be caught and Papa’s image of your innate goodness will be hopelessly tarnished.” “No one tells us the interesting tidbits. It is my responsibility to keep us apprised.” “And you are quite good at it. Between your spying and Shelby’s blackmail, I feel I am sadly lacking in criminal skills.” “Nonsense,” Mina laughed. “No one can climb as well as you.” Nicki grimaced. “So well that I climbed right into the trap set by the Earl of Diamond.” “Well… yes. But Lord Diamond is much younger than Melton. That’s encouraging,” her sister offered with forced optimism. “Is it? Or shall I simply have to wait much longer for him to die and leave me to spend his fortune in glorious freedom?” After she abandoned the sadly creased pillow to her lap where it rolled aside and dropped to the floor, Mina twisted a dark curl around one finger and set to examining the strands intently. “You might enjoy marriage to a young, healthy man.” The suggestion elicited a gasp of outrage. “Enjoy marriage? Bah! He is already issuing demands. I shall be no more than a prisoner. Unlike our Papa, Blake Dylan is not the sort to be charmed and distracted. I fear I shall be hopelessly under his thumb.” “Good Heavens, dearest, you make it sound like a death sentence.” “Death is too easy. Quick, painless.” Nicki took - one of the undamaged pillows and set it in her lap so she could smooth the pale blue satin. “Marriage holds women captive—torturing them. Do you think Papa tells his buyers that his spinster daughter assists him in the research for breeding prime horseflesh? What do you think the earl will say when I ask to start up my own stables? He may not say anything. From what I have seen of him thus far, he will simply lock me in the attic with the bones of his other seven wives. Admit I am right, Mina, if a subject has nothing to do with housekeeping or babes, we are not to be consulted.” Mina tossed the curl she had been examining over her shoulder and gave Nicki a stern look. “I truly hope you did not start this morbid and self-pitying tirade in front of the earl. Papa is well used to you—but I should think a new husband needs time to acquaint himself with your novel ideas. A gradual exposure over time is definitely your best course of action. I know you have little patience, but you should try some restraint in this instance.” She knew the wisdom of her younger sister ’s advice. Mina’s instincts were always on the mark. Still, the two of them were different, and Nicki had ever found Mina’s instruction difficult to follow. Mina calmly assessed a situation, then arrived at a logical solution. Nicki preferred a snap decision and immediate follow through. The only problem with that procedure was that small imperfections had a way of cropping up, landing her in additional trouble. Her father called it being too highly strung and vowed he had worked many years at overcoming his own careless tendencies. Recalling the rather wild picture he presented in the Earl of Diamond’s bedchamber the previous night,   Nicki wondered at the success of his efforts. “Nicki! I do wish you would stop drifting. I was saying how pleased Angelica will be to return to London. These years away have been quite miserable for her.” At the mention of her stepmother, tension raced through Nicki’s entire body. “I have done this for you and Papa. If I could have added one more stipulation it would have been that Angelica be excluded from your Season.” Mina rolled her eyes heavenward. “Don’t be rid…” A soft knock interrupted Mina. “Nicole?” Nicki stared at Mina in horror, then down at her riding habit. Heart pounding a mile a minute, she scrambled off the bed and with Mina’s help untucked the bedclothes. She had scarcely slipped beneath the covers when the door opened and Angelica stepped into the room. First, she scrutinized Mina sitting straight-backed on the bed, then her emerald gaze swept to Nicki who had drawn the covers up to her chin. The pillow Nicki had held plopped to the floor to join its counterpart. “Girls? It is so late. What are you about?” Calm, unperturbed, Angelica’s tone never changed, no matter the situation. “Angelica, we were just…” Nicki floundered for a word. “Talking,” Mina piped in with particular brilliance. “Yes, talking. How late is it, by the bye?” Elegant as always, Angelica wore a hunter green dressing gown of shimmering satin and matching slippers. She crossed her arms over her chest and glanced about the room. - “Nearly one o’clock, I should think. I thought I heard a noise and came to investigate. Did you hear a horse outside, by chance?” “A horse?” Nicki’s heart gave an uncomfortable jolt. “Heavens, no. Do you suppose one of the thoroughbreds got out of the stables?” Angelica held on to her long auburn braid and bent to pick up a leaf from the carpet. “I should think that highly unlikely, unless someone took one out.” Staring at the leaf as though it was an adder, Nicki licked her lips and drew the coverlet closer about her chin. “At this time of night. I should think not. Have you heard anything, Mina?” Silence stretched long and Nicki looked at her sister. “Have you, Mina?” she prompted. “No!” Nodding, Angelica advanced further into the room. “Are you chilled, Nicole?” After coming in from out of doors and still wearing her heavyweight habit, Nicki was quite the opposite. “I was, but now I am quite cozy, thank you.” “Your cheeks are flushed. Are you coming down with a fever?” Nicki longed to duck beneath the bedclothes as Angelica reached out to brush her soft, cool hands against Nicki’s forehead. “I am fine, Angelica, really. You need not bedevil me.” A shaky laugh broke the silence and Mina gained her voice. “Really, Nicki, you needn’t be so short.” Angelica straightened and smoothed her hands along the hips of her dressing gown. “Actually, your skin is quite cool. Almost as if you had been out of doors.”   After the meeting with Blake Dylan, Nicki had no patience with this cat and mouse nonsense. She opened her mouth to say as much when Mina interrupted. “The window was open and I shut it because Nicki was cold.” Meeting Angelica’s steady, green-eyed gaze, Nicki thought she saw a flicker of despair. But that could not be. “It is time you were abed, Mina. The earl may come calling tomorrow; we wouldn’t want Nicole yawning and falling asleep in her tea.” Mina laughed, or rather gave a nervous twitter, as she climbed over Nicki to slip off the bed. “Good night, sister.” “Good night,” Nicki responded, but Mina had already dashed from the room. Angelica sighed and bent down to retrieve the pillows from the floor. Her gaze met Nicki’s as she leaned over her and placed the pillows on the other side of the bed. “You do realize it would be completely foolhardy to embark on any more late night escapades, Nicole.” Clenching the covers, Nicki nodded. “Sleep well.” With one last long look, Angelica glided across the room, then slipped quietly into the hall. As the door closed behind her stepmother, Nicki curled on to her side, staring at the moonlight shining through her window in tremulous prisms of light and shadow. Foolhardy, perhaps, but necessary. Somehow she had to make the best of an impossible situation. That is, until she arrived at a solution for extricating herself. If only Teddy would come back. She needed him more now than ever before, but the pale-eyed Earl of - Diamond had claimed Rosewood. It seemed a bleak prospect that Teddy would return to England now that all ties were severed. All ties save one. Nicki slipped from beneath the covers, then hurriedly unbuttoned her habit. Catching the heel of one boot with the toe of the other, she tugged off first one, then the other. She could no more extinguish her dreams than she could stop breathing. From the moment she had pressed her hand into Theodore Bartholomew’s at the age of four, her fate had been sealed. Staring into his boyish face, meeting his twinkling amber eyes, Nicki wanted never to be separated from him. In her stocking feet, she padded across the carpet to her wardrobe and opened the door. She grabbed out a nightrail, then returned to toss it upon the bed while she removed her habit. Teddy had always felt the same connection and he would sense her need and return, just as the knights of old appeared at the opportune moment to rescue their lady loves. Teddy was her knight in shining armor, no matter what Mina believed. Nicki dropped the white nightrail over her head, then fastened the many tiny buttons up the front. She would go along with this marriage for now. Tomorrow, she and Shelby would suffer the earl’s company on their fishing trip. After dousing the lamp at the bedside table, Nicki swiped the leaves from the sheets and climbed into bed. For a long while, she stared into the darkness. She would not give up on Teddy. She could not. To do so would break her heart.   
Chapter 4 
The earl came through the front doorway just as Nicki and Shelby reached the foot of the staircase. When he saw her, he paused. His cloaked figure filled the mahogany-framed entrance and completely blocked the view of the winter morning outside. Nicki pushed Shelby ahead of her, then flushed at the defensiveness of the gesture. Simms held the door. Upon seeing Nicki, he closed the door and bowed stiffly. “Will you be needing anything, Lady Nicki?” She looked away from Blake’s serious countenance to the butler. “No, thank you, Simms. We shall leave straight away.” “Very good, Miss.” Simms bowed first in the earl’s direction, then Nicki’s, and swept past. Though she forced a brightness into her voice, Nicki would rather have followed the butler. “My lord, may I present my brother, Jonathon Shelby Langley. Shelby, this is Blake Dylan, the Earl of Diamond.” The earl stepped into the foyer and held out his hand. Shelby stiffened, but before he could plan his next move, Nicki gave him a gentle shove from behind. - “Master Shelby, you may address me as Blake. I understand you are an angler. When I was a boy it was my favorite pastime.” Shelby took the earl’s hand and gave a firm shake. He glanced back at Nicki, a slow smile crept over his impish face and excitement dawned in his shining eyes. “Papa isn’t a fisherman, but Nick goes with me often,” Shelby told Lord Diamond. “She don’t watch her pole too good, though, cause she’s always got her nose stuck in one of them books. Mother says Nick’s eyesight is going to get so poor she’ll do nothing but squint, and gentlemen don’t like a girl with—” “Shelby!” Nicki quickly intervened before her brother divulged every private detail of her life. “You should refrain from talking the earl’s ear off before we have left the house. He is apt to cry off on our expedition.” “It takes a great deal to cause me to back down from an… appointment.” Blake’s silver gaze fastened on Nicki with captivating intensity. “Once I have dedicated myself to a project, I feel it necessary to follow it through to the end.” “Some might consider such tenacity a form of obstinance, my lord.” She swallowed, but her mouth became instantly dry. A slight smile curved his lips and the faint lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. “I prefer to call it perseverance.” Shelby stared from Nicki to Blake. “Can we go now?” Heat flooded Nicki’s cheeks. “Of course. Em packed a picnic lunch for us. Perhaps you would carry the basket, my lord—unless you would prefer a footman   to accompany us.” “I will not hear of it. That is a fine pole you have there, Shelby. One of the first lessons I learned as a boy was…” Nicki watched with mild interest as the earl grasped the line of Shelby’s fishing pole and followed the thin thread with his fingers. As Shelby strained to better see Blake’s progress, he lifted the end of his pole and immediately the hem of Nicki’s skirt jerked up to an alarming degree. She squeaked in distress and batted at the layers of soft velvet and muslin to keep them from traveling any higher. With swift efficiency, the earl extricated the hook and the hem of her maroon riding habit dropped to a decent level. As Blake deftly fastened the wayward hook to the handle of Shelby’s pole, his mouth twitched at one corner. “These little devils have a mind of their own. It is best to fasten them to the base—like so.” “An additional precaution might be to leave the fishing pole next to the door until we are prepared to leave! You might poke someone’s eye out,” Nicki said sternly, at the same time the thought came to her that this expedition might prove to be more stressful than she imagined. “Safety is foremost in any sport.” Blake’s eyes sparkled with deviltry. “I have an acquaintance who is quite fond of climbing…” “Just look at the time! And here’s Em with the picnic basket. We had best be going if we are to catch any fish at all. Come along, Shelby.” The earl turned to greet Em’s arrival with a wry quirk of one dark brow, even as he carefully removed the picnic basket from the plump woman’s stiff fingers. - The arrogant man seemed completely unaware of the cook’s open mouthed, staring countenance. Shelby had obviously been regaling the kitchen staff with tales of the Earl of Diamond’s resemblance to a demon. Nicki retrieved her ancient rod from where it rested in the corner by the door and then led the way from the house, past Blake’s fishing pole propped against the wall outside, down the steps and across the cobbled drive to a path leading through the woods. She glanced back briefly to check on Shelby and found him skipping along at Blake’s side, chattering non-stop, perfectly satisfied with the brief comments the earl interjected in his drawling baritone. As she marched along the path, stones pressing lightly into her serviceable boots, Nicki forced herself to look neither left nor right, and certainly not back. She must remain aloof from the earl. This Blake Dylan was too charming by half and was someone she could come to like—very much. An impossible prospect, indeed. When Teddy arrived to rescue her, and she was certain he would come, she needed no emotional attachments to confuse her. At last she emerged from the wood at the grassy knoll that sloped down to the stream she and Shelby frequented. When she was a girl, Nicki had thought she’d accidentally stumbled into heaven when she found this place. Now she could not resist glancing at Blake. Did he feel the magic, too? It was almost as though the world paused and all sound ceased as she watched his gaze travel from the trees that allowed just enough sunlight to filter through their branches to brush the deep green carpet of grass dusted with a sprinkling of   fallen leaves. Without taking her gaze from the earl’s strongly etched features, Nicki could still see in her mind the promise of the flowers that would bloom in profusion when spring slipped by the winter chill and took a firm hold. She heard the song of the clear stream as it sparkled over stones and fallen branches, a perfect accompaniment to the enchanted glade. Appreciation glowed in Lord Diamond’s eyes, eyes that seemed to mirror the sheen of the water, and a joy squeezed Nicki’s heart. He met her gaze and some emotion unknown to her, but devastatingly exciting, flickered in those silver depths. Quickly, she looked away. “I… I believe I shall take the picnic basket and go sit under my tree. Shelby, the earl is all yours.” Fighting a nervous breathlessness, Nicki retrieved the basket from Blake and busied herself to spread the blanket Em had provided, weighting the ends with polished stones. She cast her line carelessly toward the water and stuck the handle of her pole in a vee created by the branch of a fallen log. She had meant to remain aloof, to harden her heart against the handsome earl. No matter how good her intentions, her gaze continued to wander to Blake. Each time she looked at him she noticed something she liked. He removed his cloak and jacket and rolled the sleeves of his forest green shirt to his elbows to reveal those bronze forearms corded with muscle. Buff colored breeches hugged his hips and powerful thighs and disappeared into a pair of much-used Wellingtons. Merciful heaven, what had gotten into her? This man had deceived her. Deceived her father. She should be able to maintain her distance without effort. - Yet when his eyes met hers, Nicki found she wanted to know what dwelt within those mysterious depths. The Earl of Diamond had left behind the harshness she had come to expect, instead smiling and teasing Shelby without mercy. He had become a part of her secret world—so easily it frightened her. Try as she might, she could not imagine Teddy with all his over-zealous energy managing the patience to fish. That had to be the reason she had never brought Teddy here before, even when they were children. 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 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 stared across the narrow stream to a tiny winter bird hopping along the opposite bank, 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 together to remove 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 thought 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 through the trees, heavy and white and shrouding all it passed. He hurried Nicole and Shelby through the woods toward Langley Hall. The prospect of a drenching 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 minute 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. “Goodness, 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 sun-kissed 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, my dear,” 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 snap to dislodge a good portion of 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, “and even if he didn’t catch nothing, he never gave up. Not once. Do you want to see my fish? Nick made me leave ‘em outside, but I’ll get ‘em if you want to see ‘em.” 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 around 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 Simms returning through the front door with fish stringer 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 encrusted rings. “It has been a long time since we last   met, madam. 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 haven’t never had so much fun.” Shelby flashed Blake a smile. “I’m glad you was 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, everpolite 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. Before he could make his bow, the girl spoke breathlessly, head still bent. “Please—my lord, call me Mina. I shan’t know to whom you speak if you call me Wilhemina.” Blake advanced into the room, off the polished hardwood floor and onto the thick area carpet. He took Mina’s hand and she rose with a grace impossible to teach. “Miss Mina. Your sister has spoken of you with such frequency, I feel I know you already.” - Her gaze flashed to his neck, then climbed inch by inch to his eyes, as though his height had come as a surprise. “I adore Nicki, my lord. We would do anything to protect one another.” The girl’s veiled threat amused him, especially when it was delivered from a face expressing obvious intimidation. Angelica hurried forward, her laughter uncomfortable. “As you can see, Mina is Nicole’s champion.” Blake turned to Angelica and was startled once again at the smooth beauty of her features. He decided it was the softness of the light from the crystal lamps adorning the mantel shelf at his back that created the impression of youth. “It seems both girls have a commendable loyalty toward their siblings. As I had no sisters or brothers, I find such protectiveness most intriguing.” After motioning for Mina to be seated, Angelica carefully arranged her peach skirts in order to have them fall perfectly around her as she sat upon the green, mauve and white striped settee. “Then you will find my children paragons. They take loyalty to unimaginable extremes.” He noted the slightest puckering of her brow as her gaze lingered on her skirts. Angelica Langley had ever been the forerunner of fashion, and every setting had been carefully manufactured to her every advantage. He smiled to himself. Obviously, she had been distracted this morning at the thought of his appearance, for her gown clashed with the furniture. She gave him a forced smile. “Please, Lord Diamond, be seated.” Blake glanced about for a chair, but a movement   at the door caught his gaze and he paused, instantly forgetting what he was about. While rushing headlong from the staircase toward the sitting room, Nicole straightened her skirts and checked to see if her hair was in place. She skidded to a stop at the entrance and, when she saw Blake, a soft smile turned up the corners of her mouth. Instantly, Blake felt his own lips attempt the expression. He hadn’t the faintest notion whether he succeeded. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire, and the quick little gasps as Nicole caught her breath—the breath she had obviously expended in running wildly to and from her bedchamber. “You look lovely,” Blake said. Angelica sat up straighter. “Nicole—please come inside. Emma will be bringing tea and you are blocking the door.” The invisible contact shattered in the wake of Angelica’s words and Nicole moved quickly to a mauve wing chair near her sister. Perching with a demureness he felt certain was not in her nature, she fastened her gaze on the weave of the expensive Persian carpet beneath her slippered feet. Blake took a seat on the settee next to Angelica, who adeptly maintained control of the conversation and how far to delve into each subject. He knew her ploy. She would not allow Blake to bring up incidents her girls would be better off not knowing about, and instead monopolized him. Control. He knew the tactic well. The visit momentarily came to a halt when a young maid carried in the tea tray, placed it on the side table nearest Angelica, and scurried away. Angelica chose the tea and set it to steep in the pot, then checked to - ensure the quilted cozy enveloped it sufficiently to maintain the heat. Blake took the opportunity to look at Nicole, but she stubbornly refused to look his way. He wondered if he had done something to put her off, but knew he had not. No, he had been on his best behavior. Something else was wrong, and he thought it had much to do with the girl’s relationship with her stepmother. He felt an odd sense of relief to know he was not the cause of her upset. Then he realized that very soon he would be. When she found out the secrets that lay in the past, and most certainly she must, she would have all the reason in the world to run from him and never once look back. That possibility was one he refused to contemplate at this point.  The afternoon dragged on. And on. Angelica exhausted every boring topic of conversation imaginable to Nicki. The weather, the weather in America, the weather during Blake’s voyage from America, and the weather in London upon his arrival. One had only to look through the misty panes of the window to see that the weather was foul, and it had most likely been foul for some time. Weather tended to do that in the winter. The earl’s soft voice drew Nicki’s attention. The room had always been of an adequate size for entertaining a good number of guests, if need be. But Lord Diamond filled every space until the claw-footed furniture appeared to have been replaced by that   belonging to Nicki and Mina’s dollhouses, now stored away in the attic. She knew it was because he dwarfed everything with his size, with his presence. Nicki turned her gaze away to stare through the ornate brass screen into the flickering, hungry red and orange flames of the fire. She tuned her mind to ignore the drone of words and heard the whisk of a broom in the hallway as one of the servants swept away the remains of her outing with Blake. Such a lovely morning. Such a horrid afternoon. The rattle of a delicate teacup on an equally delicate saucer brought Nicki’s gaze back to Blake and Angelica. The earl had risen and Nicki saw that it was he who had set the china on the spindle-legged table at his side. He meant to take his leave. Nicki looked up and caught her breath when she discovered that silver gaze pinned on her, probing, penetrating, intrusive. She looked away. But not before she noticed the slightest smile pull at his well-formed lips. “Delightful as you ladies are, I have neglected business at Rosewood for much too long. Good day, Your Grace, Miss Mina. Nicole.” Angelica stood, another of those stiff smiles pasted on her face. Whatever was the matter with her? “So nice of you to visit, Lord Diamond. Nicole, perhaps the earl would like you to show him to the door.” The corner of Blake’s wide mouth flinched again. Just the tiniest bit. “I should like that very much. Nicole?” She stood, feeling as brittle as a frozen strand of grass. “This way, my lord.” Nicki moved out of the room and to her right. - Several steps more and she reached the door. She sensed Blake behind her, though he moved with amazing silence for such a large man. The hair at the back of her neck stood up. Her gaze moved to the floor where all traces of leaves and dirt had been efficiently cleaned away. “Good bye, Blake.” She grasped the cool brass handle and pulled the door open. Chilled air swirled around her ankles as she waited for the earl to pass through. He retrieved his multi-layered cloak from a peg on the wall behind the door and swept it over his shoulders. Then he grabbed Nicki’s burgundy cloak as well. “Walk me to my carriage.” She bit her lower lip slightly, released the handle and presented her back. Blake placed the garment over her shoulders. His hands lingered to smooth the fabric beneath the voluminous hood. Instant heat radiated through to the skin of her neck and back. Nicki grasped the satin trimmed edging and pulled the garment close about her. She stepped quickly over the threshold onto the marble porch—and away from the earl’s touch. As she hurried down the stairs, she heard Blake close the door. The brisk air hit her in the face and got her eyes to tearing, while the slight drizzle brushed her cheeks with cool moisture. Grey, glowering clouds obliterated the sun, and stripped away any warmth left from the morning. Nicki could hear the distant sound of carriage wheels dancing over the cobbled surface of the courtyard grow louder as a vehicle approached the front of the house. Bone-chilling cold seeped through the thin soles of   her fragile slippers as she moved along the stone path to the drive. Nicki hugged herself tightly as she turned to watch the arrival of a glossy black carriage with wheels rimmed in shining brass. A magnificent horse pranced nervously in the traces and Nicki admired its sleek golden body, long graceful legs, and the spirited arch of its neck. A beautiful animal. The earl had an eye for fine horseflesh. Tamm, one of the trainer’s sons, jumped from the carriage and tied off the reins. “Yer lordship, ‘e’s ready fer a good run.” Blake came up beside Nicki as Tamm jogged back toward the stables. “Thank you for an entertaining day, Nicole.” She went to the horse’s neck and reached out to stroke its delicately tapered muzzle. “I must apologize for my unrefined behavior. Angelica has tried her best to instill manners in me. You must have noticed her lack of success.” The earl swept past her to stand in front of the horse. When he cupped the horse’s jaw, their hands touched and Nicki trembled at the feel of his skin against hers. “I do not recall Angelica as one who followed every rule,” he said softly. “You know Angelica?” Nicki snatched her hands away and tucked them beneath her cloak, sniffing as the cold air threatened to cause her nose to drip. The earl ignored her actions and continued to scratch the animal’s broad forehead. “Long ago.” Nicki looked at him in surprise. “Before she married Papa?” Blake gave her a slightly disgusted glance. “No, my dear. I may seem quite ancient to you, but I am - only nine and twenty.” A rush of hot color flamed in Nicki’s cheeks. “I meant no disrespect.” He grinned, gave the horse one last rub before he dusted off his hands and slipped them beneath the folds of his cloak. “Angelica was a vibrant, charming woman who flouted the confines of Society. I found her quite intriguing.” “Angelica?” “Perhaps motherhood has changed her.” Cheeks and nose pink from the cold, the earl moved around Nicki to the carriage where he unwrapped the reins from the brake. “Or I have driven her mad,” she offered, turning her body so she could follow his progress with her gaze. Another smile. “Now that is entirely plausible.” Nicki sidled along the traces until she stood beside Blake, then reached out to lightly run her fingers over the polished gold trim lining the carriage entrance. She could hear the creak of leather as the carriage moved with each nervous stamping of the horse in its harness. The wind surrounded her. Its icy fingers probed her clothing to find entrance to the warmth within. She thought how the ruddiness in Blake’s cheeks caused by the cold air made him look younger, less aloof—so she hazarded bringing up a sensitive subject. “Then you must have known Papa as well.” “Yes.” The single word came out clipped. Nicki hurried on before she could take a breath and change her mind. “Did the two of you have some sort of falling out, then?” The question uttered, she went one step further and looked up at him.   Blake climbed into the carriage. Now he refused to meet her gaze. “You should go inside before you catch your death out here.” “I am not cold—really. Did the two of you argue?” “That is a subject I will not discuss with you.” She leaned closer, inches inside the carriage, and watched as Blake jerked dark leather gloves over his long, tapering fingers and large palms. “But should I not know what happened? Your behavior—purposefully leading me to believe I would be meeting Teddy, and then arranging for Papa to arrive—well, it was quite odd. Why would you do such a thing?” The muscle along his left jaw flinched and his fists tightened on the reins, as though he would slap them against the horse’s back and make his escape. Instead, he tossed her a teasing smile. “Perhaps fate called me to your side.” She shook her head in disgust. “I do not believe for one moment that you trust any force but your own when making decisions. You shall have to do better than that, my lord.” “Would you believe I am saving you from fortune hunters?” Nicki eyed him dubiously. “Hardly, since I have no fortune to be saved.” “Then I am out of suppositions. You tell me why I am here.” Her temper flared at his obstinance. “Keep your secrets, then. I do not care.” His laughter rumbled like rich warm cocoa from his chest. “You do care. But believe me when I say that it is best that you remain outside the maelstrom, - my dear. It is much safer there.” He slapped the reins lightly and Nicki jumped back as his horse and carriage surged forward as one. Blake gave her a brief salute. She watched the vehicle move smartly down the drive, then disappear amongst the tall poplars that lined the lane leading to the main road. A sense of overwhelming sadness touched her heart and pressed in upon her thoughts. She drew her cloak closer against the chill of the dismal afternoon. The icy wind gusted against her, pulling moisture from her eyes to send it tunneling along her temples into her hair. “But you’ve purposefully drawn me into the center of your storm, my Lord Diamond. And now I am set adrift with no defenses. Why? What have you to gain?”  Nicki entered the house and removed her cloak. With a deep sigh, she hung the garment on a peg. Angelica would expect her to return to the sitting room, but what Nicki wanted now was solitude before a briskly crackling fire. Warmth to take away the chill—both inside and out. “Nicole, come in here please,” called Angelica from the sitting room. She dropped her head back to stare at the elegantly papered ceiling high overhead. “I would like to rest, Angelica.” “This will only take a moment.” A moment to chastise her for getting dirty this morning and for running in the foyer. Nicki stepped to the doorway. “I am sorry for anything I may have   done to displease you, Angelica.” A slight frown appeared, but Angelica patted the settee beside her. “Sit here. I wish to discuss your forthcoming marriage.” Though still expecting a tongue-lashing, Nicki came into the room and sat at the opposite end of the settee from her stepmother. She cast Mina a swift glance, but her sister had her head bent over her sewing and did not look up. “I am certain you have noticed there is some tension between our family and the earl.” Nicki thought surely she had heard incorrectly. “Papa says Lord Diamond hates him.” Angelica placed both hands on her knees, and Nicki saw her knuckles had gone white. “My hope is that the past can be set aside now that we are to become family.” “Blake refused to tell me what he and Papa argued about. Surely the misunderstanding can be rectified.” Angelica smoothed her skirts, a sure sign that she considered her words carefully before speaking. “It has gone slightly further than a misunderstanding.” She cleared her throat, took a quick sip of tea, and continued. “You see, your father and Lord Diamond had a falling out of sorts.” “Over what?” “Business. The reason is not… I believe you should know the result of that falling out.” Angelica took another sip of tea and Nicki noticed with amazement that her stepmother’s hands trembled. “Yes?” Angelica sighed. “Blake Dylan is the reason for the failure of your father’s business ventures. He has - sabotaged every project Papa undertook over the past six years.” Nicki waited for the words to take a new form inside her mind. She heard ‘sabotaged’ and ‘Papa.’ And ‘Blake.’ No. “No! Someone would have told me sooner than this!” “It is not something we wanted you to deal with, Nicole. Your father and I…” “What about Blake? He plotted to become engaged to me. Why? Why would he do such a thing? To hurt Papa by hurting me? I cannot believe it.” A glossy sheen covered Angelica’s green eyes. She reached out, then dropped her hand. “I do not know what his intentions are, but he and your father discussed matters. You know your father would not have agreed to the marriage if he believed your well being to be at risk.” Hot, scalding tears formed in Nicki’s eyes, then spilled onto her cheeks. “My well being? A man who has ruined my father financially has my well being in mind?” Angelica took Nicki’s hand. “You must understand, my dear, that your father is confined by the strict dictates of Society. There are procedures that must be followed in order to protect daughters from being taken advantage of by worldly men.” Nicki withdrew her hand and stiffened her spine. “I do not feel protected. I feel entrapped.” “Please, Nicole, do not make more out of this than is necessary. I merely felt you should know this fact before going forward with your relationship with the earl.” Angelica sighed and pressed her palms together. “If you love your father you will overcome your   reservations and make the best of this marriage, Nicole. He feels as trapped as you and if he sees your unhappiness, he may do something foolish, something that will destroy his reputation completely—and yours as well.” The pain that roiled through Nicki ended in a sickening knot in her stomach. Blake had not only tricked her into marriage, he had kept from her a devastating fact—had allowed her to explain to him that her family had no money and begged him to provide Mina with a Season. While all along he had known of their financial difficulties—because he had caused them. “Nicole, Lord Diamond seems to be making an effort to be pleasant.” She could not stay here and listen to Angelica’s attempt at prettying-up a bleak picture. “Why should he not be as charming as a prince? He is getting everything he wants.” Nicki stood. Her hand unconsciously swiped at a curl that clung to the moisture on her cheek. She looked down into Angelica’s pale face and the pity she saw there wrenched the knot in her stomach into an almost physical pain. “You and Papa are giving in to him—and you expect me to do the same. How can I? How can I go willingly to the sacrificial table?” Angelica lowered her gaze. “The earl asks for nothing—nothing but that your father release any claim to your inheritance from Grandmama.” “My inheritance?” Alarm pounded through Nicki with each beat of her heart. “Papa has no designs on my inheritance.” “Apparently the earl thought he did and demanded - the stipulation in the marital contract.” Nicki clenched her hands at her side, her fists hidden within the fabric of her taffeta skirt. Obviously Blake Dylan did not know her family at all. He could strip from them every belonging, every ounce of money, and they would still have each other. Even Angelica had accepted their retirement to the country without complaint. They still had Langley Hall, their ancestral home, they had the money from the farms, and she and her father had done quite well in building up their stables and selling the horses bred there. She fought down anger and humiliation. Certainly Blake Dylan had held all the strings up to now, and he had forced them to dance and cavort at his command. “This should be of no great surprise to you, Nicole. Surely you did not believe the earl arranged for you to be compromised because—” A bitter laugh stung its way up from Nicki’s chest. “Because he wanted me? No, Angelica, I have no misconceptions as to my own appeal. Perhaps I should be grateful to have been duped by a titled man.” “You know very well that is not what I meant to say. Your father and I have allowed you more freedom that most girls, Nicole. You should be married, with children, but we thought to give you time to make your own choice. You did not. So it was left to us.” Nicki moved around the settee toward the door, then turned back to Angelica. “Forgive me if I do not thank you.” “Nicole Langley, would you ask us to behave differently than every parent who has concern for their daughter? The marriage to Melton was extremely fortunate considering the fact that you were not presented   at court. When you were compromised by the Earl of Diamond we no longer had the freedom to determine the best course for your future.” “Nothing happened! I thought I would find Teddy, but instead discovered the earl. He did not behave ungallantly. Why must I be forced to wed him only because I chanced to be in his bedchamber?” Angelica raised her hands palms out, as though warding off Nicki’s bitterness. “You know very well that in our society women are not to speak to a man to whom they have not been formally introduced. Nor are they to have any appearance of being compromised. Such are the restrictions placed upon us by our men in an effort to honor us and put us on a pedestal…” “I am being punished for a misunderstanding!” Nicki’s voice echoed through the room, shrill, teetering at the edge of hysteria. “It is unfortunate you feel that way, Nicole, and I am quickly regretting my honesty. You may go to your room and lie down. I hope your disposition is improved by supper.” Angelica looked away, ending the conversation. An overwhelming sense of alienation washed over Nicki and she longed to run, but at the same time wanted to stay. A movement near the fire drew her gaze. She had forgotten about Mina, who stared— wide-eyed, horrified. Nicki twisted her hands together and wished she had never tried to get out of the marriage to Melton, wished she had never acted on the note, wished she had never been born. Tears threatened to spill over once again. Nicki spun and dashed from the room to the stairway. She paused at the foot of the stairs, clutching the banister 00 - as the pain in her chest intensified until she thought surely her heart must be attacking her, just like Grandpapa John’s. And he had died. The sound of scurrying footsteps alerted Nicki to her sister’s arrival. “Nicki, I’m worried about you.” She attempted to take one step, hoping the pain would ease. It did. So she climbed another step, and another, and straightened her shoulders. “No need, Mina. Please, return to your sewing.” Mina continued to dog each footstep. “Do you not think you are overreacting just a little?” At the top of the staircase, Nicki came to an abrupt halt and Mina bumped into her. “Did you not hear anything that was said? Blake Dylan ruined our family financially!” “We do not seem to be so bad off.” Amazed, Nicki spun away and dashed down the corridor to her room. “Forgive me, but I thought that you wanted a Season in London so you could find a handsome, rich husband and have a beautiful family of little lords and ladies,” she tossed over her shoulder as she pushed open the door to her bedchamber. Mina hurried after, breathless. “We are not talking about me. You seemed to like the earl well enough before Angelica told you about the dispute he had with Papa.” “Oh, yes, I liked him, despite the fact that he tricked me.” Nicki stalked to the bedside table and turned up the lamp. “Then forget about what he has done in the past.” Nicki sat upon the bed. Lucy had removed her damp clothing and everything had been returned to its normal tidiness. If only Nicki could do the same with   0 her life. “How can I forget? I went to him and humbled myself, begged him for your Season. He should have told me the truth then. I hate that he continued to deceive me.” She reached for a pillow and clutched it to her breast. “Even I know a marriage cannot be built upon deception.” “But was it truly so bad? You are very forgiving. Look at your relationship with Teddy.” Mina joined Nicki on the bed. Nicki fought the curious urge to burst into tears. “Where have you been these past days, Mina? The earl played me false!” “But he did agree to everything. That doesn’t sound like someone bent on revenge. Perhaps he’s left his revenge in the past.” Frustration shimmered inside her. “This is all part of his scheme, do you not see, Mina.” A sharp pain sliced through her. “He is using me.” “He likes you. Anyone with eyes in their head can see that.” “Oh, that is just too rich, Mina. How can he possibly care for me, now or ever?” “You’ll change your mind when you’ve had time to think this over. After all, business is not the same as marriage.” “If you think this is only a slight crimp perhaps you should marry the earl.” “You were compromised, not me.” “Small matter. You are countess material. It is the perfect solution.” “But I do not wish to marry him. I want to have my Season, and I am not yet eighteen!” “Blake will most certainly take you to London 0 - when you are married.” “No. I would marry him but he’s your fiancé. The contract has been signed.” “Mina…” “If anyone can make the best of this situation it is you, sister. Blake likes you. Maybe he’ll open up to you—explain the reason for his actions. He truly does not seem to be a monster.” “That is how you honestly feel?” “Yes. He was quite civil to Angelica this afternoon, which took the patience of a saint.” Nicki smiled. A saint. Mina thought him a saint. Just the way a woman should feel about a man she is to marry. 
 Chapter 5 
 Greetings, My Lord Diamond, I have news of the Greatest Import. The answer to our Dilemma is for you to wed my sister, Mina. She is well suited to the role of countess and it cannot have escaped your Notice that I—on the other hand—lack Social Presence. Your Kindness to me is most Greatly Appreciated. Please speak to my father as soon as possible. Respectfully, Nicki Langley Nicki perused the page, her teeth worrying her lower lip. Was she too jovial? Too casual? The tone must be just the right blend of apology, appreciation, and reasoning. She dared not allow her true feelings to slip through. If the earl discerned her outrage at his betrayal, he would never release her from the engagement—for it seemed emotion was exactly what he wanted. With a sigh, she folded the page and held a delicate 0 - spoon containing wax beads over the candle. The careful imprint of her mother’s ring, the earl’s name penned across the face of the missive, and the deed was complete. Having taken the first step to correct the situation eased her ire somewhat, though Nicki clung to the feelings that had initiated the action in the first place. She could not allow the earl to twist her around to his way of thinking. She did not doubt for one moment that he could do so. He was too charming by half, but so were highwaymen and thieves, until they wanted your purse. Her sister obviously did not share Nicki’s opinion that Blake Dylan had deceived their family and did not deserve the chance to prove his true motives. Mina possessed all the qualities an earl might look for in a bride, while Nicki knew only too well her own shortcomings. Lord Diamond had witnessed the most grievous. Her recklessness. Therefore, he should not be disappointed that Mina would take Nicki’s place as his bride. Nicki had to admit that her conduct in the past had played into the earl’s hands perfectly. So it was only fitting that Nicki be the one to set everything to rights. She lay the note upon the marble-topped writing desk. The name stared at her. ‘Blake.’ Why had she put only his given name? She should have addressed it to the Earl of Diamond. With a start, Nicki realized their relationship had traveled well beyond the formality of stuffy titles. Her fingers traced his name, recalling the time spent by the stream today. An intense sadness brought tears to the back of her throat. The earl could be   0 captivating when he allowed the sharp planes of his face to soften. When he smiled, the whiteness of his teeth contrasted quite devastatingly against the darkness of his skin. No woman in her right mind could withstand the attraction of such masculine appeal. Nicki admitted she had fallen under the earl’s spell for a time. She pressed her cool hands to her cheeks. Next she would be spouting poetry. Lifting the note, she rose to her feet. She must stop thinking about his charm and dwell on what truly mattered. He had deceived her, behaved despicably with regard to her family, and he had stolen Teddy’s inheritance. Teddy whom she loved. If the earl married Mina, there would be no need for him to finance a Season in London, though Nicki intended to insist that he still pay off her father’s creditors. If Mina already admired Blake, then she would be happy with him. In time Nicki would come to forgive him for what he had done, for Mina’s sake. Nicki would be free. Free to be with Teddy. That was what she wanted. The smooth parchment rested lightly in her hands as Nicki closed her eyes and tried to summon Teddy’s face to mind. An image formed of an angular jaw, wide mouth, high cheek bones beneath eyes like a silver lake frozen by the harshness of winter, dark brows too ready to draw together in a frown, a fine straight nose… Blake. Where was the vision of her friend since childhood? She concentrated more intensely. Ah, there he was. The full mouth with that ever-ready smile, the dimple 0 - in his left cheek, his face flushed, as though he had just come in from the cold, eyes of bright, sparkling amber, hair the color of ripened wheat in the fields… Nicki opened her eyes. There had never been and would never be anyone for her but Teddy. She had made a vow to him years ago and she could not break it. For a brief interlude she had been taken in by a handsome blackguard, but no more. Was her love truly so weak that she could set it aside so easily? No. Her love was strong. It was her spirit that had wavered. Well, no more. She would marry no one but Teddy. Nicki went to the door and listened carefully before easing it open just a crack. The house was quiet— everyone abed. She crept down the hall past several closed doors leading to empty chambers, and finally came to Shelby’s bedchamber. Carefully, she eased the door open to the slightest creak and stepped inside. A smile tugged at her lips at the sight that greeted her. She tiptoed toward the bed where the covers were mounded into a tent-like formation. A light glowed through from inside. “You are going to fall asleep one night and burn all of us alive, young man!” The light was instantly extinguished, throwing the room into pitch-blackness. Nicki stubbed her little toe on the heavy bedpost. “Blast it, Shelby! Light the lamp before I fall and break my neck!” “Nick? I thought you was Mother. Just a min…” Nicki bent and inventoried her foot for any broken bones as Shelby rustled through the darkness. Brief moments passed before he lit the bedside lamp, obviously well used to performing the function.   0 She rose with what she hoped was a threatening expression. “Whatever are you doing under there?” After brief hesitation, he pulled a wooden box from inside the tented blankets. “It’s an invention I’m workin’ on.” The box seemed harmless enough. “I am sorry, dearest, but the box was invented long ago.” “This isn’t just a box, Nick. It’s a device… to catch burglars.” She stepped closer to the bed then bent to study the item more closely. “Is there a small constable inside?” “It isn’t funny, Nick!” Nicki stifled a giggle. “Obviously not. I apologize for my lack of proper admiration. Tell me how it works.” Shelby’s gaze searched her face for further signs of heckling. Satisfied, he turned the box around to reveal several buttons, knobs, and thin pieces of wire. “See this here—you turn this knob and attach the wire to a window, or door, or desk drawer, whatever you’re wantin’ to guard. Once the wire’s attached, push this round button here and the device is set. If anyone tries to break in, the wire trips a lever inside the machine, which rings a bell.” “How terrifying for a person. It might just give them a heart attack, then you would catch them for sure.” “Nick!” She schooled her features into appropriate solemnity. “Pray continue.” “While the bell sounds the alarm, the burglar might still get away—so this trap door opens here and a spray of black ink shoots out. I figure it would travel four or five feet. The intruder’s covered. Even if he 0 - gets away, he’d be easy to track down because he’d be drippin’ a trail of ink.” Nicki looked from the machine to her brother in astonishment. “That is very clever, Shelby. You thought of this all by yourself?” He nodded shyly. His hand touched the box with unmistakable pride. “I took some books from Papa’s library, but most of it I done on my own.” “Well, I am impressed, but I do wish you would find a safer way to work on your project. It is dangerous to have a lamp in bed with you. Promise me you will be careful.” “’Course I will. I wouldn’t want to damage my invention.” She ruffled his dark hair. “I have come to ask a favor, Shelby. You do not have to do it, but it is important to me.” “What is it?” He set aside the box and looked up at her with interest. Nicki ran her fingers along the face of the note before handing it to Shelby. “I want you to take this to the earl at once. I realize it is late and very dark outside. If you are afraid, you do not have to go.” He took the note. “What does it say? Can’t it wait ’til tomorrow?” “I want the earl to have time to think about what is in the message. Will you do it?” “’Course I will. I like Blake. When you marry him, I hope you’ll let me come visit you.” Nicki blinked rapidly to banish the moisture from her eyes. “Please be careful, Shelby. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” “What’s in the note, Nick?”   0 She shook her head and tousled his hair once again. “Never you mind, just see that the earl gets it. Do not worry, Shelby, I have taken care of everything.” Shelby climbed from the bed, still fully clothed. Nicki could see the questions in his blue eyes, but she could not bring herself to speak for fear of bursting into tears. She turned and fled the room.  Blake bent over the account ledgers for Rosewood. Impatiently, he scratched out several figures he had noted in his own journal after realizing he had entered them twice. He massaged his forehead with one hand as he once again attempted to find the place he had left off. He reached for one of two messages delivered by a footman from Diamond Hall that morning. The name Harrison Ransom, Viscount Merchant, was scrawled in black ink across the face of the white missive. Such a dignified title for the petulant boy he remembered following him about on his visits home from school. Harry. Aunt Sophia, as his father’s closest living relative after himself, must have held high hopes for her son at her brother’s death. According to a clause in Barrett Dylan’s will, if Blake had remained in America, Harry would have become the next Earl of Diamond. Now Harry was welcoming him home, offering his assistance, as well as that of his mother. The footman, sleeping off his exhausting journey in a soft bed, awaited Blake’s response before returning to London. The man would just have to enjoy the hospitality of the country for a while longer until 0 - Blake could pen the appropriate reply. Blake rubbed his forehead again, as though the motion would still the thoughts racing about inside his mind. Why in the devil had he come back? America was his home now. And as the second message proved, he had much business to take care of there as well. His solicitor in Boston was already hounding him to return as soon as possible. Blake had turned his back on his heritage years ago when his father banished him from England. But there remained this burning need to return—to finish all that had been left incomplete with his abrupt departure. Some matters would be left incomplete forever, for his father had died two months before. Others required his personal attention. And the Duke of Billington fell into that category. Blake’s hatred had centralized upon him. Over the years he had carefully thought out each move, then acted with cool precision. Bit by bit, he had stripped Billington of his wealth, just as Blake’s had been taken from him—at Billington’s insistence. Last, but certainly not least, there was Theodore Bartholomew. Dear Teddy. Friend—betrayer. Thus far the revenge he enacted against Teddy had been too easy. Weaknesses were there to be exploited and Teddy had more than his fair share. Blake’s enmity toward three men—his father, Jonathon Langley, and Teddy Bartholomew—had burned through him. His desires over the past years had focused on destroying Billington and Teddy, and somehow making his father regret turning away from him. But his father, always one to have the last word,    did so yet again with his death. Such was life. By his return, Blake had claimed his birthright, taken possession of Teddy’s house, and arranged to become engaged to Billington’s daughter—and the girl Teddy claimed to love. Now Nicole would be his wife. Her inheritance would become his and those two men who needed money so desperately would not be able to lay a hand on one pound. The final revenge. Then he would at last find peace. The vast emptiness inside of him yawned like an icy cavern, testimony to the lonely existence he had made for himself. Somehow, the fleeting moments in Nicole’s company had brought a temporary warmth back into the cold chasms of his soul. Blake faced that fact with no small degree of unease. He had chosen his path and followed it with a surety that came easily to him. Originally, his plan had been to entrap Nicole into marriage, to get an heir out of her, and to leave her to a comfortable life. That was more than she could hope for by marrying Teddy, or some man her father made a contract with. Now he wondered what it would be like to please her, to see those aquamarine eyes sparkle with warmth—a warmth directed at him alone. He wondered what it would be like to be the man he saw reflected in her heart. Had he traveled too far along the path of revenge and hatred to turn back? Could Nicole thaw the ice that encased his heart?  - No. He could not allow that to happen. He had come too far. “Sir, you have a caller,” Chester announced from the open doorway. Blake stood, blaming the sudden increase in his heart rate on the butler’s sudden appearance. “Very well, Chester, show her in.” The tall, slender butler drew himself up slightly. His hands unconsciously tightened the belt of his red brocade dressing gown around the slightest paunch at his waist. “Your visitor is not a her, my lord. It is young Master Shelby of Langley Hall.” Blake’s gaze shot to the clock over the mantel. “One would assume a lad his age should be abed at this hour.” “One also assumes most young ladies to be abed as well, my lord. Perhaps he shares his sister’s penchant for late night conversation.” One corner of the earl’s mouth twitched at the butler’s sour comment. “Bring the boy in, Chester, before he goes to sleep in the hall. You may return to bed. I shall see the boy out.” “Of course, my lord.” Chester left, surrounded by injured dignity. Moments later Shelby peered around the door. He seemed about to flee as he caught sight of the earl. “Come in, Shelby. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” Shelby swallowed and inched inside the room. “Nick—she asked me to bring you this.” Blake came forward and closed the door softly before taking the folded page. The fragrance of roses wafted upward and he had the insane urge to lift the    source to his nose. Instead he turned the note over. His gaze snapped to Shelby’s crimson face. “Interesting. The seal seems to have been broken.” Shelby refused to look at the page. “I might’ve dropped it, I suppose.” “That must be what happened. I have the utmost confidence that you would never read a letter addressed to another.” The boy bit his lower lip. Blake saw Nicki in the gesture. “I suppose you’d be angry if I was to say that maybe I did…” Blake thoughtfully tapped his chin with the missive and Shelby stared at the paper in horror. “No, not angry. If you were inclined to behave in such a manner, you most likely would have good reason.” “Oh, yes, sir! The very best reason. It’s… it’s Nick…” Blake tensed. “She is well?” “She isn’t sick—she just isn’t herself. When she gave me the note, her voice was shivery, like she was cold, and her eyes was watery. It isn’t like Nick. She isn’t a goose—if you take my meanin’.” “So you were worried by Nicole’s demeanor?” Shelby nodded, heartfelt concern for his sister obvious in his blue eyes. “She says ‘Shelby take this straight away to the earl.’ Nick would never ask me to go out after my bedtime, unless somethin’ was serious wrong.” “Are you planning on arriving at your point any time soon?” “Well, she was actin’ so queer I decided to have a look at the note.” Blake nodded. “So you did.”  - Shelby raised his chin slightly. “And it was a good thing! Nick’s got some notion in her head and it’ll take no end of arguin’ to make her change her mind.” “That sounds dire indeed. Sit there by the fire whilst I have a look at this for myself.” The boy did as instructed, though he sat on the edge of the settee as though poised for immediate flight. “Nick don’t mean it. She likes you. I know she does.” A sense of foreboding overwhelmed Blake at the boy’s desperate words. “Sit still and let me read this in peace.” Blake moved behind the enormous claw footed desk and sat down. The leather of the tall-backed chair had grown cool, though he had only just left it, and he attributed his sudden chill to that fact. Without further ceremony, he unfolded the page. He read the note once, then a second time. The woman was completely insane. “Please don’t be mad at her, sir. Nick isn’t like most girls.” “I am finding that out for myself, thank you.” Shelby left the warmth of the fire, his small face set into lines of concern. “Maybe Mina would make a better countess. Trouble seems to follow Nick wherever she goes. Mina, she’s a lady and all, but—please— don’t let Nick chase you off.” Blake carefully folded the note and tucked it inside the open journal before snapping the book shut. “We had best get you home before I have your father pounding on my door. I am beginning to understand the man’s erratic personality the more I get to know his children.”    “You won’t pay any mind to Nick’s letter, will you?” He grasped Shelby’s arm and pulled the boy along with him to the hall, where he paused to throw a multilayered cape over his own shoulders and assisted the boy on with his blue surcoat. “I have not yet decided what to do about your sister. I am used to gathering all facts at my disposal before making a decision.” At that, Shelby’s face brightened. “That’s good, especially when dealin’ with Nick.” Noting the absence of a horse in the yard, Blake turned toward the stables. He hoped he could maintain his principles where Nicole Langley was concerned. If he began acting on impulse, he might just end up strangling the girl.  Nicki focused her eyes on the page before her. This was one of her favorite books relating to the fundamentals of horse breeding, but tonight the pages lacked their usual fascination. “Shelby Langley, if something has happened to you I shall murder you!” she mumbled. The low speech comforted her little. Could Shelby’s tardiness mean he had encountered problems with the earl? No. Blake had shown consideration and admirable patience with her sometimes taxing younger brother. She discarded the thought. Besides, there was nothing in her letter to cause the earl the slightest pause. The argument she offered was both logical and of economic advantage. Mina had beauty, poise, and a quiet charm perfectly suited to the  - earl’s dignity. She possessed all the qualities Angelica had attempted to instill in Nicki—and failed miserably. Yes. Mina would make a perfect Countess of Diamond. A light tap on the window brought Nicki out of her reverie. She tossed the book aside and scrambled off the bed, anxious to hear about Shelby’s encounter with the earl. She threw open the window, then stepped back in surprise. “My lord! I… I… thought you were Shelby!” Blake leaned his elbows on the window frame, his stance casual on the slight roof overhang five feet below. “I left him several trees over, I believe. I made sure he was safely tucked into a curious tent-like contraption resembling a bed.” Nicki bit back a smile. “It was kind of you to see him home.” “It was my pleasure.” She waited for a moment, then touched the lace collar at her throat nervously. “Was there something you needed?” Blake studied her face and Nicki could not help but admire the dark coal of his lashes, a startling contrast to the silver of his eyes. “Your message was somewhat unsettling. I had believed our marital plans decided upon and under way.” Nicki swallowed as heat infused her cheeks. What weak stuff she was made of! One look, one charming phrase, and she could not take her eyes off him. “I… Upon further reflection I felt we had been too hasty.” “I see. Have I offended you in some manner?” His voice, low and mesmerizing, brought goose bumps to her skin. “Oh, no! Other than causing this entire disaster,    you have been a pillar of patience.” He leaned further into the room, startling Nicki into stepping back to maintain a discreet distance. “Then your crying off on our engagement is no personal reflection on me.” She looked down at her hands and realized she twisted them together nervously, so she clenched them within the linen of her nightrail. “Of course not, else I would not offer you my sister in my stead.” Blake’s brows drew together. “What about your threats to cast aspersions on my honor? I am required by the dictates of society to marry you—not your sister.” “I do not believe I actually threatened you. I am certain if you are wed to Mina anyone who has heard rumors would conclude they mistook the identity of the compromised sister.” He nodded, still watching her face closely. “It is obvious you have given this matter a great deal of thought.” Nicki stepped toward him. The wind drifted through the window, tousling his dark hair and carrying to her the pleasant scent of combined sandalwood and spice. “I have truly. I would not have sent the note otherwise.” “I see.” She wanted to ensure he believed that her decision came from her own feelings of inadequacy and not because she knew of his dreadful behavior. Yet, looking at him now, she had great difficulty hardening her heart. “I am not so certain you understand. If you did, you would realize that my concern is for you. I simply am not cut out to be the wife of an important man.”  - Blake’s gaze narrowed and he stared at her. “You undercut your qualities, Nicole.” She shifted uneasily, crossing one bare foot over the other. “There, you see? You are being too nice!” He offered a wry grin. “I had not realized I was so unselfish.” Nicki touched his arm gently. “Now it is you who underrate yourself. I am touched by your consideration —but I cannot allow you to make such a grave mistake. That is why I must release you from your contract.” “Will you take responsibility for my unhappiness as well as my happiness?” He covered her hand with his. Nicki took a deep breath. Her heart raced out of control, leaving her dizzy. “I… I have the utmost confidence that Mina will make you an exceptional wife.” He increased the pressure on her hand ever so slightly. “How can you know that I want a wife like Mina? Perhaps I would prefer a charming scapegrace with a tendency to do what I least expect?” Their faces were inches apart, so close she could see tiny black specks in the silver irises of his eyes. “Perhaps you are unaware of what is best for you!” She felt trapped, like a rabbit cornered by a very large, very dangerous wolf. His breath brushed her cheek. “I had a mother once, Nicole, I do not need another.” Instinctively, Nicki’s eyes closed and she swayed forward ever so slightly. Her entire body grew taut as a bowstring in anticipation of—of what she did not know. Blake brushed her lips with his, feather soft at first, then increasing the pressure. A shiver of pleasure surged from a place Nicki had heretofore never known existed inside her own body. Her lips parted and their    breaths mingled, culminating in a soft moan that escaped her mouth, seemingly of its own volition. Startled by the sound, alarmed by her reaction to him, Nicki wrenched back a step. Blake continued to hold on to her hand as a slow, satisfied grin spread across his face. She hated herself for the treachery her body and emotions exacted on her mind. “You should not have done that!” He chuckled, a smug sound in Nicki’s opinion. “Oh, I should have done more—but we have time.” With an outraged gasp, Nicki snatched her hand free. “Do you mean to tell me you will not release me from our contract?” He moved his shoulders back out the window and gripped the sill. “I have not yet decided. I shall come around tomorrow with my answer. Good night, my dear.” He was gone. Nicki touched her fingers to her lips, catching the scent of him where it remained on her hand. Emotions whirled and collided in her heart until she was breathless with the assault. Her first kiss. Somehow, she had always believed that Teddy would be the man to complete that task. She searched her feelings for a hint of disappointment —of indignation—but found only an aching desire to have Blake return—to have him touch her again. The window seemed larger now, devoid of his presence— the room suddenly cold. Good heavens, she was nothing more than weakwilled ninny. When she should have been arguing her case to him of the reasons they should not wed, she had allowed him to kiss her. She must withstand him. 0 - He had been unspeakably cruel to her family. He had tricked her. Yet she could not hate him. That admission hurt almost as much as the discovery that he detested her father so much he would go to extreme lengths to destroy him. Nicki stepped forward and closed the window. She turned and caught sight of her reflection in the dressing table mirror. Her face was flushed with excitement, her eyes glistened. Her gaze moved downward and she gasped in mortification. Silhouetted against the lamplight, her thin nightrail left little to the imagination—and she had stood conversing with Blake without the slightest notion. He had remained to talk with her as casually as if they were in a formal drawing room. The rascal. She brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. If the earl was shocked, it served him right. What did he expect, crawling into a person’s bedchamber in the middle of the night? Nicki furrowed her brow crankily. She had been armed with very good reasons when she climbed into Blake Dylan’s room. She bit her lip. He would give his final decision in the morning. Nicki had no doubt he would choose Mina. She sighed. It was what she wanted, what had to be. Mina looked forward to marriage and children. Nicki dreaded the thought of being wed to a man she did not love. This solution was the best for both of them. She was certain of it.   
 Chapter 6 
 “You did what?” Nicki shushed her sister as she risked a swift glance at the closed library door. “Do not be upset with me, Mina. It really is the only logical solution.” “Logical? Logical! This is too much, even for you, Nicki! I distinctly recall saying I did not wish to marry the Earl of Diamond.” Nicki pushed her sister toward the parlor. “You really are over-reacting, Mina. He is a handsome, charming man.” “Exactly the opinion a girl should have of her future husband. I, on the other hand, find him forbidding and severe. How could you do this to me?” Nicki could deal comfortably with her sister in a temper, but the onset of tears was more than she had bargained for. “Please, Mina, no crying. I truly believe Blake will make you a fine husband.” Mina collapsed into a wing chair and dropped her face into her hands. “You’re certain he seemed inclined to accept this ridiculous proposal?” “He… Well, he said he was undecided.” Mina’s face brightened. “Then there is hope.  - Obviously, he cannot fudge on his obligation to marry you.” “He seemed quite impressed with my argument.” She wiped at her tears. “You must go into the library at once and tell your earl that you made a mistake, and that you will be happy to marry him. This is impossible, Nicki! I am not ready to be anyone’s wife.” “I am older than you and I know what is best. Just you wait and see.” At those words, Mina jumped to her feet. Though Nicki backed away, her sister grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the door. “You have to talk to him at once!” Nicki tugged ineffectually against the tenacious grip. “I will not!” Seemingly oblivious to Nicki’s words, Mina dragged Nicki crow-hopping out the door and into the hallway before pausing for breath. “You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever known!” A bright crimson flush stained her porcelain cheeks. The library door opened. Both girls turned in unison, Mina still holding Nicki’s wrist. Their father ushered Blake through the door. Both men paused as they saw the girls. “Nicki, Mina, I’m pleased you’re both here. Where’s your mother?” As Mina appeared paralyzed, Nicki volunteered a reply. “She went into the village today, Papa.” He nodded. “Ah, yes. Well, she shall hear the news upon her return, I suppose.” Mina’s hand tightened on Nicki’s arm with alarming ferocity and Nicki schooled her features to hide the pain.    “And what news is that, Papa?” Nicki’s voice held only the faintest evidence of a quaver. “Blake has informed me that due to business reasons, the wedding should be held immediately—possibly in the next two weeks. I think it a splendid idea.” “That is absolutely impossible!” Mina shrilled. “I… I should like to get to know the earl a little better before the wedding takes place.” All eyes turned as her nervous voice echoed through the hall. Her father frowned. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Mina…” “It’s absolutely imperative! I scarcely know the earl save an introduction and a few words of conversation. Perhaps a wedding in the spring.” Blake, one dark brow rising slightly, looked from Nicki to Mina. “I do not wish to wait until the spring. A messenger arrived last night with a message from my solicitor in America. It may be necessary for me to leave for America within the month. If that happens, I shall not be returning to England for quite some time. The wedding must take place before I leave.” Mina shook her head adamantly. “A lengthy engagement would be just the thing.” “I do not see that it is any of your affair how long the engagement is,” Blake returned. Nicki swiftly interjected herself between her sister and the earl. “You are being extremely insensitive, Blake! It is perfectly appropriate for Mina to show some reticence at such a whirlwind courtship!” Now her father stepped forward to place himself between Nicki and the earl. “See here, girls, don’t be jumping at Diamond like a couple of snarling whelps!” Angelica’s entrance coincided with her father’s  - exasperated speech. She glanced from one face to the next as she casually removed her muff and cloak. Nicki saw her look about for a servant, and when one showed no inclination to enter the foyer, she placed the items on the side table. Her husband went forward to greet her, most likely certain he had just gained a counterpart. One daunting look from Angelica’s emerald eyes froze him in his tracks. She turned her gaze on Nicki. “Perhaps the parlor would be a better place to carry on with this discussion. Jonathon, would you ring for tea and cakes? The fresh air has heightened my appetite.” Mina released Nicki’s arm and rushed into the parlor. Angelica and her father followed. Blake bowed, motioning for Nicki to proceed him. With a glare, she rubbed her burning wrist and entered the parlor. It was really too much. The man certainly had a way of making matters much worse than they need have been. Angelica seated herself in a stiff-backed chair and waited for the remainder of the party to follow suit. Nicki traced the path her stepmother’s gaze followed, from her father seated on the settee with Mina to Blake, who had taken a casual position leaning against the mantel of the fireplace. Silence settled over the group. When the serving girl brought the tray, she tripped slightly on the carpet in her rush to leave the room. With a satisfied nod as the girl closed the door softly behind her, Angelica sighed. “Well now, all situations seem much easier when one has a cup of tea.” “A cup of tea will not change my mind about this marriage!” It seemed everyone in the room started at Mina’s harsh expletive.    Angelica frowned. “Perhaps you will change your mind after you have had a sip. Take your tea, Wilhemina.” Her father passed out the cups after his wife filled them. Angelica must have every situation conducted in the stiffest formality. Nicki took her cup, clenching her teeth in frustration. What she wanted to do right this moment was jump to her feet and give Blake Dylan the roasting he deserved. He had bungled the matter horribly and Nicki knew with utmost certainty Mina would sooner kiss a toad as marry him now. “There now. Perhaps someone would care to apprise me of what the four of you were discussing upon my arrival. I recall something about snarling whelps, but I am certain I misheard my husband.” Her father slipped a finger inside his collar. “Well, Angel, I don’t recollect exactly how it all got started, you see.” “Then perhaps you can jump to the middle.” With a glance at Blake, her father cleared his throat. His teacup rattled against the saucer. He stilled the china a little desperately as he looked at his wife. “Well, the earl and me met in the library this morning. He told me he needed to have the wedding date moved forward. Business reasons, y’know. Next thing, Mina was in the middle of him, saying as how she didn’t care for the idea by half. Then Nick jumps in.” He paused and turned to Blake. “I tell you, Diamond, these girls isn’t usually so quick to pounce on a man, if you take my meaning. Don’t know what came over them.” Nicki surged to her feet, unable to restrain her ire any longer. “Perhaps we would not be so quick to attack if Blake had any sensibilities whatsoever! Mina  - has not had any time at all to accustom herself to marrying the earl. How could he possibly think she would be ready for the wedding to take place in two weeks?” Blake’s lips twitched and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Mina has no reason to accustom herself to marrying me. She is not the one I plan to marry in two weeks. It is you, my dear. And I believe you have just shown us all how accustomed to me you have become. Therefore, the matter is closed.” She stared at him aghast, unable to close her mouth. He had not changed his mind? He had not changed his mind! “Oh, no—it is most definitely not closed!” Once again her father materialized to take a position between the pair. “Now, Nick, don’t go getting yourself in a twitter. You knew about the arrangement. All we’ve done is move it up a little. That isn’t so bad now, is it?” Foolish tears filled her eyes. Not so bad? Her father, with Blake’s help, had taken away her dreams. She had tried to gain her freedom—and failed. Teddy could not possibly intervene in two weeks time. Humiliated by her emotional display, Nicki flung the teacup and saucer to the carpet and fled the room. She paused in the hall. Her gaze went to the door, then back toward the staircase. Escape. She had to get away from here. Angelica would surely come hunting her and she wanted to be somewhere her stepmother would not dare go. A few minutes later, Nicki pushed open the stable doors and slipped between them. Enveloped in the dimness of the interior, Nicki paused and let the familiar    scent of fresh hay, leather, and horses pass through her frayed emotions. Sniffling, but calmer, she passed a small, pot-bellied stove and paused to enjoy the warmth that emanated from it. Her slippers whispered through the dusting of straw that covered the planked flooring as she moved on to a bale of hay pushed up against the wall outside the feed room. The four lanterns positioned at the braces between beam and wall cast a cozy glow over the tidy “waiting room” as Nicki called it. The lines of stalls beyond were darker, less welcoming. “Andrew?” Silence. Of course, she had forgotten that the horse trainer and his youngest son, Lee, had planned to take some of the Thoroughbreds down to the north pasture for a run this morning. Good. Andrew, with his kind dark eyes, had a way of drawing her misery out until it had no place to go but onto his shoulders. She did not want that in this instance. He would never understand. With a heavy sigh, Nicki sat down on the bale. She leaned back against the rough boards and drew her knees up close to her chest. Despair filled her, overwhelmed her, until it spilled out in hot tears that cascaded down her cheeks and turned to salt on her lips. She clutched her arms about her legs, then rested her forehead on her bent knees. Not only had she embarrassed herself, she had caused Mina to look like a cake as well. Her assertions to the earl that she could never be a proper countess had been drawn into the harsh light of day, yet he had chosen to hold her to the engagement—had obviously never intended to release her from it. She could never face him again. It would be hard  - enough apologizing to her sister, and her father, not to mention Angelica. Why must she always be such a muttonhead? “Angelica said I might find you here.” Nicki gasped, quickly wiping at her face with her hands. “I would much prefer to be left to myself, my lord!” She realized her seating arrangement must be revealing a good deal of petticoat, and quickly dropped her feet to the floor. With a rustle of hay, Blake sat down next to her. The familiar smell of the stables fled before the spicy male fragrance belonging solely to the Earl of Diamond. Nicki kept her gaze averted, uncertain what Blake would do, and completely at a loss as to how she should react. “I apologize for the misunderstanding, Nicole. I never thought you would bedevil Mina with your absurd proposal before I had a chance to speak with you. Did you honestly believe I would choose not to marry you?” She sniffed. “Yes, I did. Mina is much more accomplished than I, even though she is younger. She would suit your needs to perfection.” “You know nothing of my needs, Nicole Langley. If you did, perhaps you should have kept running. As matters stand, you suit me very well.” “But I am such a goose. I forever trip on my tongue and offend people. At least here in the country I have little opportunity to do much damage.” Blake chuckled and the sound of it brought sunlight and moonbeams to her mind. “You are a rare gem. Our life together shall be interesting, to say the least.” Nicki snuck a glance from behind an untidy fall of    hair. “You should be angry with me for shouting at you.” He reached out to tuck the stray strand behind one ear. Nicki ducked her head, but Blake’s finger lifted her chin gently. “You need never fear me, Nicole. I prefer your honesty and I would have it now. Something else is disturbing you.” “I… I do not know what you mean.” She tried to avoid his gaze, but the earl seemed to possess a mysterious enchantment that rendered her incapable of acting on her own will. His thumb moved along her jaw, lightly, yet increasing the hold he had over her. “Tell me, my dear. I am not so conceited that I believe you are concerned what other people might think of me if I take you to wife.” Those hateful tears sprang up in her eyes again. She must tell him. Why, she did not know. “I have learned the truth about you.” A wall of coldness slammed down between them, turning Blake’s features into a mask of indifference. “Have you? Please, share it with me.” He withdrew his hand, and though he did not move away Nicki felt a sense of alienation. She brushed her cheek where his hand had touched her. “Angelica told me that it was you who ruined my father financially.” “Is that all?” She stiffened her spine. “So why did you allow me to humiliate myself in your bedchamber…” “Which time?” “You know very well which time! The night I asked you to reconsider your rejection of Melton’s 0 - offer. The night you listened to my story of woe because our family had been ruined!” He leaned back against the rough boards of the feed room and lifted one knee to rest his arm upon, though his intense stare did not once leave her face. So casual. Was there no situation in which he did not hold the upper hand? Nicki squirmed on the hay, glanced over at the wood stove, then at the tidy array of horse grooming utensils hanging from pegs driven into the wall. “So offended pride was your true reason for wanting out of the marriage. I see the way much more clearly now.” Nicki swung her gaze on him as hot anger surged through her. “Pride? You hate my family so much that you would take from them everything they have and you say I am proud?” A flash of emotion crossed his silver gaze, then quickly disappeared. “I am not marrying your family, Nicole.” “Yet you know how much I care for them. Will destroying me be your final blow? Is that what I have to look forward to?” He reached out to touch her cheek, but Nicki jerked away from him, though she continued to watch him steadily. He shrugged and dropped his hand. “I never intended to hurt you. By marrying me I hoped to give you financial stability, children to keep you occupied and to continue my family lines—with no foolish emotional requirements. I intended to protect you.” The words were sincere. Nicki closed her mouth, which had dropped open in amazement. The cold,    businesslike arrangement he outlined seemed entirely appropriate to him. “And love would be one of those foolish emotional—what did you call them—require-ments?” “Love is most certainly at the top of the list.” She nodded, scooting forward just enough so that she could turn her body toward him. “Have you never been in love then, my lord? Or did you love someone who broke your heart?” He remained silent for so long Nicki wondered if he had heard her. Then he spoke. “What is love, my dear, but weakness. Do you see any weakness in me?” No. She could not. He hid his emotions quite skillfully behind that facade. But much lay beneath the surface, if one could ever find the chink in his armor. “I see no weakness. But I do see loneliness.” Blake laughed. “You are an original, Nicole, I will grant you that.” Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to dry them. Blake handed her a starched kerchief. She knew the subject was ended as far as the earl was concerned, but he did not yet realize Nicki’s tenacity. Nicki sniffed. “I cannot fathom what is causing me to carry on so.” She used the kerchief to dab at the moisture beneath her eyes. “I promise you I normally refrain from hysterical outbursts. Perhaps I am merely overset by the events of the past few days.” Her face sufficiently dried, Nicki blew her nose, wadded up the linen, and held it out to the earl. Blake took his handkerchief carefully, then folded it into a more tidy bundle before slipping it into the inner pocket of his jacket. “That is certainly understandable. I have not quite been myself either. We are  - faced with a wedding in just a few short weeks. Marriage is difficult in the best of circumstances, and we are making a rocky start—but I believe we shall suit each other. I cannot promise to be the most agreeable person to live with, though I will make an effort.” The simple speech brought tears rushing back to her eyes. She knew the earl was doing his best to be nice, but in doing so he intended to snuff out her dream of marrying for love. Blake brought forth the crumpled kerchief once again. Nicki took it and snuffled loudly into the scented folds. It was no more than she deserved, to be chained to a man she did not love and who would most likely scarcely tolerate her when he knew her better. It had been entirely too selfish to attempt to fob poor Mina off on Blake when it was Nicki who had caused this chaos to begin with. “Thank… you.” Blake took the linen from her clumsy fingers once again. He lifted her chin. His expression became stern with concentration as he gently dabbed at her cheeks, then held the cloth to her nose while she blew. It was an intimate gesture, and comforting, almost like something Teddy would have done. He finished and tipped her face up to his to examine his handiwork. “There, now, I believe the rain has stopped.” Nicki smiled shyly at him. “And the sun has come out.” She laughed. “I truly cannot imagine why Mina is so afraid of you. For all your bluster, you can be devilishly charming.” The lightness left his face and his gaze turned to ice. “Do not be so sure. By marrying me, you may find    yourself in a nightmare you will not awaken from.” “Then why can you not forget this entire matter? Return to America or to London, wherever it is you must go. You can say that I cried off.” “You are no longer a child to be chastised and sent on your way. When you came to my room that night, you made a choice. As a woman, you must accept the repercussions.” Nicki sighed and dropped her gaze to her lap. She plucked at the pieces of hay clinging to the fabric and dropped them to the floor. “Your sense of honor certainly runs deep, my lord.” Blake stood, holding out his hand to her. “You cannot accuse me of possessing that reprehensible trait. I simply refuse to give London any further ammunition for their gossip. By marrying you, I will halt any rumors, and I will also efficiently dispense with the husband hunting females of London Society.” His hand enveloped hers in a grip that possessed, even as it remained gentle. Nicki allowed him to pull her to her feet until she stood within inches of his impeccably tailored coat. Her gaze followed the fabric upward from his striped vest to the dark cravat, his wide bronze neck, strong chin, and unsmiling mouth. She recalled the feel of those lips upon hers the night before and a flame flickered to life, infiltrating her body until it consumed her. Should she lean toward him? Blake drew her close with his free arm and their hands, still intertwined, were crushed between their bodies. Nicki tilted her head back. The earl needed no further encouragement. As Nicki waited for the touch of his mouth, her body tingled in anticipation of the magic his kiss  - contained. When his lips brushed hers, she kept her eyes open in order to study the enigma of this man. Dark lashes brushed his tanned cheeks, a lock of coal hair dropped in reckless abandon over a finely made forehead. How could a man whose face was sculpted in such harsh lines touch her with so much tenderness? His lips moved like silk over hers, gently cajoling a response she eagerly provided. Blake stiffened and drew back slightly, opening his eyes. “Is there a problem?” She sighed ecstatically. “Oh, no. Certainly not.” “I am not accustomed to an examination whilst I make love to a woman.” She smiled at his consternation. “I was merely curious.” Blake’s cheeks darkened and he scowled. “Oh?” “Yes. I had always thought kissing to be a messy, intrusive act and guaranteed to spread all types of illnesses. But with you, I truly see why it is such a popular pastime. You are quite accomplished.” The corner of Blake’s mouth twitched slightly, though his gaze remained stern. “I am not certain if I should thank you for that observation.” Nicki leaned closer, removed her hand from Blake’s and rested it against his chest. She could feel the harsh beat of his heart against her palm. “Oh, it was a compliment, I assure you. I very much enjoy your kissing.” “I would much prefer it if you would refrain from staring at me while I inflict such enjoyment. You certainly have a way of throwing a man off, Nicole.” She searched for some small peace offering to sooth his ruffled feathers. Each word she spoke only    seemed to irritate him further. With a sigh, she grasped his coat lapel and drew him with her to the bale of hay, holding on to him while she stepped up. Before she could lose her courage, she wrapped her arms about his neck and planted her mouth on his. Blake stumbled backward slightly, obviously taken by surprise at the force of her attack. He wrapped one arm around her waist and her feet left the safety of the solid surface. Blake took over her amateur performance. His other hand stabbed through her hair to cradle the back of her head. His kiss deepened and Nicki opened her lips slightly to accommodate him. She clutched his shoulders, the one stability in a world that swirled about her in a kaleidoscope of color. He truly was a wizard. “Release that girl this instant!” Blake pivoted toward the intruder. Nicki’s skirts swung away, picking her up like the tail of a kite. She hung on for dear life as she struggled to see the door to the stables. Surprise jolted through her. Blake eased her down until her feet touched the floor. She lifted her hand to her throat. “Is it…?” The deep voice gained a lighter tone. “It is.” With a squeal, Nicki ran to the man and launched herself into his arms. Tears spilled from her eyes, yet she threw back her head and laughed as the young man spun her about. “Teddy! Oh, Teddy, you have come back!”  
 Chapter 7 
Nicki sensed Blake’s gaze on her. Recalling the icy undertones in his voice as he greeted Teddy in the barn, she thought it best not to look in his direction. The arrival of her childhood friend had filled her with joy, but Blake seemed scarcely capable of civility. And Teddy’s reaction to Blake could not be described as anything less than total dislike. She had wanted Teddy in England. But she had not fully realized the position his arrival would place her in. She was engaged to the man who had taken Rosewood from him. Rosewood, the last tie that bound him to English soil—unless he counted Nicki. She squirmed uncomfortably in the chair and chanced to look in the earl’s direction. His silver gaze pierced her calm facade. Nicki looked away swiftly. The brief contact left her trembling inside. He had an uncanny ability to touch her without moving a muscle. Merciful heaven, these two made her feel like a mare caught between two stallions—a deucedly unpleasant sensation that promised to get worse. She folded her hands primly in her lap and returned her attention to Teddy.    How charming he was, just as she remembered. Color rose in his cheeks as he regaled the group with tales of the exploits he had shared with Nicki in their younger days. His current story was of his antagonistic relationship with Angelica’s terrier, Patriece. How he had tormented that poor animal. Eventually, the dog had simply run beneath a piece of furniture at the first hint of Teddy’s arrival. Then Teddy would prod at it with a cane or fireplace poker, or some other instrument of torture, sending the dog into frenzied barking and snarling until Angelica would come put a stop to the teasing. Nicki looked at Angelica. The smile froze on her face. Was that pain in her stepmother’s eyes? She tried to remember back and recalled the small terrier had been a birthday gift from her father. Even as a puppy, Patriece had never been playful or fun, much like her mistress. Nicki had liked Patriece well enough because she loved animals, but the dog had definitely preferred Angelica to anyone else in the house. Teddy had taken a singular pleasure in tormenting Patriece merely because the dog disliked him so intensely. Tears of amusement slipped from Teddy’s eyes as he told about the dog charging from the house and leaping into Lord Blackthorn’s carriage just as the man was about to climb inside. “Lord Blackthorn recovered his balance and reached in to remove the cute little dog from beneath the seat. The dog’s teeth clamped onto his lordship’s hand. You should’ve seen him trying to shake the thing off!” The others laughed politely, but Nicki could not look away from her stepmother’s face. Angelica lifted her lace kerchief to her mouth in an attempt to hide  - her expression. The memory hit Nicki full force and she snapped her mouth shut to keep from shouting at Teddy to stop. Lord Blackthorn had gone to the magistrate over the dog bite. The next day Patriece was gone, and Angelica had never gotten another pet. Teddy launched into another tale of their villainous escapades. Somehow the pranks did not seem quite as harmless as they had before. Nicki watched Teddy, feeling as though he had suddenly become a stranger. He certainly seemed like the same Teddy. His mannerisms were precisely executed to perfectly enhance his words. When he laughed, his straight nose crinkled just enough to lend his face a consummate boyishness. From the top of his curly blond head to the tips of his polished Wellingtons, Teddy cut a dashing figure. He truly was the prince of her dreams, but… Had his chin always run into his neck to the point that he seemed to have none at all? When he smiled, his face was not transformed by the act. No, it seemed his smile was just too ready, too easy. She had always thought Teddy a large man, but he was actually quite slender. His breeches of tan emphasized his slim hips and the cut of his tailored jacket of powder blue spoke of the finest tailor in London. The corners of his starched cravat nearly poked him in the ears when he turned his head. Yes, Teddy cut a dashing figure. So why did her heart not turn flip-flops at one glance from his bright amber eyes? Why did just the thought that Blake might be watching her send heat rushing to her cheeks? “Nicki? Nick, stop gatherin’ wool, girl. I say, remember the time we…”    She murmured what must have been an appropriate response, for Teddy laughed and embarked on another tangent. Nicki wished someone would take over the conversation. Why did Teddy insist on monopolizing their attention and embarrassing her in order to do so? Nicki shook herself mentally. What was she about? This was Teddy, her best friend since childhood. Yet as each story unfolded, she distinctly recalled the unpleasant repercussions—which had only affected her because of her desire to protect her friend. Just as Mina said. Then Nicki remembered the first time Teddy, then eleven years old, crawled into her bedroom window, his dirty face streaked with tears, one eye swelling so that he could not see and a horrid split in his lower lip. His father had punished him over one of their adventures. From that moment, Nicki knew she would do anything necessary to keep Teddy safe. She regretted not one moment. Still, it would be nice to remember one time that Teddy, older and wiser, had cautioned Nicki as to the repercussions sure to occur as a result of their actions. No matter. Teddy had come, and it could not have been an easy feat for him. That was something… “Nicole, the earl wishes to take his leave. Perhaps you could escort him to the door.” Nicki jumped like a cat with its tail stuck in a slammed door. All eyes were trained on her. She looked at Blake, a slow burn crawling up her neck. The man was practically snickering. Forcing a smile to crease the stiffness of her face, Nicki moved to take his arm. “Of course. I am so sorry you must leave, my lord…” 0 - As soon as the parlor door snapped shut behind them, Nicki jerked her hand from his arm. “You might be a little more agreeable, sir!” Blake watched her, his expression one of exaggerated alarm. “Oh? I thought I was extremely well behaved— considering the situation.” She slanted him a glance, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm once again. “I would think you could be a little generous. After all, you have taken Teddy’s inheritance away from him, and…” “Pray continue. I would like to hear what else I have stripped from Theodore.” What had she gotten herself in for now? She led him toward the door, but could stall no longer. “Me.” His arm tensed beneath her hand. “I had not realized you belonged to him. How is it he left you here alone for all these years?” Nicki’s throat tightened. These damnable tears. Blake certainly had an uncanny talent for bringing them about. “That is none of your business!” “Perhaps. But remember one fact, Nicole.” She looked up at him, fighting the strange rush of blood through her body that sent her equilibrium spinning. “You belong to me now and I will not let you go. You are a prize worth fighting for, my dear.” The intensity of his gaze held her spellbound. Nicki snapped her open mouth shut, realizing she must have been gawking like a halfwit. “I think you are a man who enjoys a challenge, my Earl of Diamond. What will you do if the prize that awaits your victory is a disappointment?” That dazzling smile broke free from the harshness of his features. “Oh, I never go after anything unless it    has great value. I do not fear disappointment, Nicole. I am an observant man and I like what I have seen. Good day.” Nicki watched as he took his cloak from one of the hooks on the wall nearby and swung it across his wide shoulders. As he placed his hat on his raven hair she rushed to open the door for him. Blake offered her a cheerful wink that set her heart to fluttering as he passed her and strode across the threshold. Her fingers bit into the cool wood as she watched him stalk down the path to the gate, where a boy waited with his horse. She continued watching until he rode out of sight amidst the stately trees lining the drive. Unbidden, unwanted joy squeezed her heart— inappropriate, unruly, hopeless joy. He liked what he had seen. After closing the door Nicki pressed her forehead against the wood, struggling to bring her wayward emotions under control. A smile broke free just the same.  A lightness in her step, Nicki returned to the parlor. She opened the door, certain she could have easily danced on the clouds. “Nicole, I have invited Theodore to stay with us while he is in England.” Angelica certainly did not seem pleased to make the announcement, but Teddy positively beamed. Nicki glanced around the room, surprised to find her father and Mina absent. “How wonderful! We have much to catch up on, Teddy.” Angelica rose from the settee, graceful as a deer.  - “That can wait. I am certain Theodore would like to rest. Mina has gone to inform Em we shall have another for supper, and your father is arranging for Theodore’s belongings to be transported here from the hostelry. Nicole, perhaps you would show our guest to the Hunter’s Suite.” “Come along, Teddy. I am sure your things will arrive soon. They shall most likely be waiting for you when you awaken from your nap.” Teddy moved from the fireplace to pause before Nicki. When he took her hand she noted the smoothness of his skin, immediately comparing it to Blake’s rougher, stronger touch. “As long as you await me, I shall need nothing else,” Teddy said, a sparkle in his amber eyes. “You say that now, but I will not hold you to it when you would like a clean shirt!” A warm chuckle gurgled from low in his throat. “You are like a breath of fresh air, Nick. I feared you would have grown up and left behind that delightful originality.” “Have no fear, Theodore.” Angelica cleared her throat, eyeing Teddy and Nicki’s entwined hands. “Nicole’s individuality transcends any amount of preaching, teaching, or cajoling.” Teddy brought Nicki’s hand toward his mouth. “She is priceless just as she is.” Before he could brush her fingers with his lips, Nicki withdrew her hand and clutched her skirts. “You embarrass me, Teddy! There is not enough sun to cause your delirium so it must be exhaustion. We had best get you to your room at once.” Angelica held out her hand to Teddy, who took it    and bent over her fingers, though Nicki noted he did not hold hers so close as he had Nicki’s. “Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, Angelica.” “You are welcome here for as long it pleases you to stay. Though I must warn you things will be extremely hectic during the next few weeks with all the preparations for the wedding.” “Wedding?” Nicki stiffened. “I am to be married…” “In two weeks time. So you see, we have many preparations to complete,” Angelica interrupted. A whiteness touched the skin about Teddy’s mouth. “I assume Blake Dylan to be the lucky groom.” The ultimate betrayal. She had not waited for him. “He is,” Nicki said, her voice scarcely above a whisper. “I saw Diamond only a few months ago in America. Surely you cannot have known him very long, Nick?” What could she say? “I… he…” “What Nicole is too shy to express is that she has only known the earl for a short time, but they have quite been swept off their feet—so to speak. He learned only this morning that business matters require his attention in America. The earl does not wish to wait until his return to England for the wedding to take place.” Teddy glanced from Angelica to Nicki, who opened and closed her mouth, much like the poor trout Shelby hoisted from the stream. The pain in Teddy’s eyes became hers. She would gladly give all she was to save him this hurt, but she had not one inkling where to start. He drew himself up stiffly. “It seems we have a  - good deal more to catch up on than I first realized. Diamond has managed to surprise even me. I had not thought you would be so susceptible to his—charms. And certainly not so quickly.” His tone rent her heart, laying it bare. Nicki summoned a strength from deep within her and released her breath slowly. “A girl could turn into a dried up old crone waiting for some men to come around. Blake is willing to help Papa in arranging for Mina to have a Season, and—” “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, hot and scorching. He clenched his fists. If he had acted on his first inclination, he would have jerked his fiancée away from the man and planted him a facer. The only problem with that plan of action would have been Nicki’s response. 0 - 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 masters of his past and 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 go off. No polite chit-chat.” “Has there ever been that between us?” Blake crossed his arms over his chest and backed 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, Dylan?” Blake’s stomach churned with fury, but he had trained himself to hold his emotions deep inside. 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 the casualness of his 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, Dylan, 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 upsetting 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.” “I shall do my best, sir.” Blake sipped the hot liquid and winced at the bitter taste. “I have some business to attend. In under an hour I shall have several letters for Smith to take with him to London posthaste. Please notify him that he  - must prepare to leave immediately upon my word.” “Mr. Smith has been anxious to be on his way, sir. I shall inform him of your instructions at once.” Once again Chester exited the room and closed the door to leave Blake alone with his thoughts. With a grimace, he raised the cup to his lips and downed the drink all at once. The burning eased almost immediately. Blake set the cup on the mantle, then moved to the window and drew back the heavy drapes. A stale mustiness filled his nostrils. Perhaps the house needed some redecorating after all. Or at least a good airing. Weak sunlight filtered in through the paned glass. The wide expanse of lawn leading to the forest that separated his property from the Langleys’ drew his gaze, but Blake’s thoughts again turned to Nicole. It was through those woods she had traipsed without the slightest reservation. In years past she must have traveled that same route to reach Teddy. Chester said she had followed him about like a puppy. Such devotion, yet without expectation that the same emotion would be returned. Blake released the curtain and absently watched the meager light disappear. The thought of Nicole climbing the trellis outside to reach Teddy shot whitehot anger through him. Bartholomew did not deserve her love, and when Blake and Nicole were married, she would see the folly of her unflagging devotion. He glanced at his desk to the two folded and sealed missives. One addressed to his solicitor in London, the other to his aunt, Lady Sophia Ransom. If he were thinking clearly, he would tear up both and toss them into the fire.    From across the room they drew him. He lifted the letter to Sophia. She would not expect to hear from him and certainly not by letter containing a request for her assistance. Though she was his father’s only sister, they had never had what could be termed a close familial relationship. In fact, Blake easily recalled listening to shouting matches from his father’s library, usually centered on Aunt Sophia’s financial difficulties. The Earl of Diamond had little sympathy for what he considered weaknesses in human character and Sophia’s husband, Leopold, possessed more than his share. The man had a penchant for investing, gambling, and expensive possessions—though he had no talent for choosing appropriate investments or horses, and heavy losses did not support the lifestyle he and his family enjoyed. As the head of the family, Sophia expected her brother to contribute to her support as needed. Blake’s father had not shared her belief. Still, the Diamond name did mean something and he intervened at the last possible moment, keeping Leopold and Sophia from disgrace. His intervention never came without a price, and Sophia had paid it time and again. Absently tapping the letter against his palm, Blake sighed. Sophia must have thought her hopes answered when her brother died and Blake had been gone from England without word for years. With Blake’s reappearance, her hopes that her son Harry would inherit the title under the desertion clause of her brother’s will were soundly dashed. She might even believe Blake would take over his father’s practice of withholding money. Yet he now asked for her help.  - Blake tossed the envelope atop the other addressed to his solicitor. After careful thought, he had chosen the best course open to him and he must follow it, no matter how it went against the grain. Having so much to lose, Sophia would not turn him down. His solicitor would be surprised, but then Blake had never been the most circumspect of clients. He supposed everyone would just have to accustom themselves to his new eccentric turn of mind. After all, how could anyone be the same after coming into contact with Nicole Langley?    
Chapter 8 
Nicki eased the door to Mina’s bedchamber open. Her gaze moved to the form lying on the white coverlet. Their lives had become curiously similar to a carriage gone out of control, and they careened toward the unknown at an astonishing rate of speed—all due to Nicki’s inability to control her own rash impulses. Somehow she had managed to embroil her sister in this predicament. “What are you hovering in the doorway for, Nicki? Come over here where we can talk. I promise not to do you physical harm.” Relieved, Nicki hurried to do her sister’s bidding. “After the mess I have made of things, I would not blame you a bit if you tried to toss me out the window.” Mina sat up, motioned for Nicki to join her, and scooted toward the middle of the bed. “That’s an extremely good idea, but it would make such a mess and you know how Angelica despises clutter. Besides, the earl might demand my hand in marriage to make up for your loss and I would be right back in the position you nearly had me in this morning.” “Sometimes I just do not think things out clearly,  - Mina. Please forgive me?” “Sometimes? When have you ever thought anything out clearly, sister? I find it a frightening prospect to imagine what goes through your mind at times.” Her expression softened. “Still, you most always mean well and I can’t fault you for that. You’re forgiven, as if you ever had any doubt!” Nicki leaned back against the fluffy lace covered cushions and pillows at the head of the bed. “I have certainly got myself into a corner this time. Teddy complicates the situation to no end. The earl continues to insist that he will not release me from this marriage. Only moments ago Teddy roasted me for falling victim to the earl’s diabolical schemes. I am so confused, Mina!” “What confuses you? If you truly want Teddy, I cannot imagine the earl holding you to the marriage. But you must be certain he is what you want, Nicki, and that he wants you.” “I know you do not care for either of them, but they both have admirable qualities. Teddy is—well, he is Teddy. He is like a windowpane and I can see straight through to his heart. But Blake—one moment he is light and teasing, then the next it is like slipping beneath the ice that covers our pond. I cannot see past the barrier he draws about himself. It frightens me to imagine living the rest of my life with a man who holds so many secrets buried inside.” “Yet you are intrigued.” Nicki drew her knees up and clasped her arms about them. She suddenly felt like crying, and had not the faintest notion where the urge came from. “I think he has been hurt deeply, and yes, it intrigues me.    Perhaps I want to be the one to thaw the ice. I feel drawn to what I know dwells in the heart of…” Mina grinned. “The heart of the Diamond?” “Am I truly crazy, Mina? How can I want two men?” “Are you so certain you want both? You are loyal to a fault, Nicki, and you’ve loved Teddy for as long as I can remember. Perhaps it is time to look more closely at your feelings. Only you can decide which way you must go.” Nicki buried her face in her arms. “But I am engaged to Blake!” “That’s not like you, sister. You’ve always made your own choices. Look at what drew you to Rosewood the night you became engaged. You went there because you wanted out of a marriage, and you intended to find some way to do that. What happened wasn’t what you expected, but it accomplished your goal. If you truly don’t want to marry the earl, you’ll find a way out. But perhaps you don’t want out. Only you can decide.” “If I could be certain Blake could ever care for me…” Mina put her arm around Nicki and squeezed. “I think if you want Blake, you will not rest until you’ve won his heart. But first you must decide if you want him. Now that Teddy is here, the decision may be more difficult.” Nicki rested her head on her sister’s shoulder, sighing deeply. “One thing is for certain.” “What is that?” “The weeks to come promise to be extremely entertaining.” Mina giggled. “As long as you keep me in the role of spectator and not participant, I shall enjoy the show.” 0 - “I promise not to make you a scapegoat again. But watch them closely at dinner tonight. If you should decide you want either man, you will let me know? It would make my decision much easier.” “Nicki!” “Very well. A spectator you shall be. And I shall remember your unwillingness to assist me if you should ever need my help in the future.”  Nicki fiddled with her silverware as she listened to Teddy’s outrageous account of his voyage from America. His amber eyes absorbed the light from the many beeswax candles positioned in brass holders along the table, and gleamed as brightly as the golden cherub statuette centerpieces. With his constant smile creating that dimple in his right cheek he was so completely unchanged from the Teddy she had known that Nicki found it easy to step back into the comfortable friendship they had shared before. Nicki intercepted a sharp glance from her stepmother and laid her fork down next to the spoon. She buried her hands in the soft silk of her gown to keep them occupied more quietly. The action only reminded her of the pains she had taken with her appearance. Pearl earbobs that had once belonged to her mother pinched her earlobes, which were charmingly displayed by her upswept coiffure. Curls brushed to the sheen of pale gold tumbled in careful disarray down her neck and back, several slipping over one shoulder. Lucy had outdone herself,    impressing even Nicki, who usually had no patience with such frippery. She only hoped she did not look a mess by the time Blake arrived. Somehow, she knew something would be amiss. Already a strand of hair had slipped free and tickled her cheek. So why did she feel a jolt of surprise when she caught Teddy’s gaze on her with something more than comradely affection sparking in their depths? For as long as she could remember, she had expected to marry Teddy Bartholomew; had promised she would never love another. She should be ecstatic that he seemed attracted to the woman she had become. It was all Blake’s fault. If he had not interfered with her life, she could have been more thrilled with Teddy’s presence at Langley Hall. She still could be. If only she could think of some way to set matters to rights. Her gaze wandered down the white lace cloth that covered the table, over the silver plates and platters to the empty seat at Teddy’s side. Why had Blake declined to come to dinner when his parting words to her this afternoon had seemed to communicate his willingness to enter the battle to keep her as his intended? Backing down from his first opportunity to enter the foray showed a much different frame of mind. Not that she wanted Teddy and Blake at each other’s throats. Looking up, Nicki caught Teddy’s stare locked on her once again. She reached for her crystal goblet half filled with red wine and took a quick sip. Her appearance had affected one person, but she would have liked it much better if he would not behave as though  - she was the main course after a fast. She wanted him to be the same old Teddy. “America would suit you, Nick. I know we’ve always thought the colonies somewhat barbaric, but there’s a vitality in the very air that stirs the blood. I think even cynical Blake enjoyed his stay there.” Ignoring the reference to the subject of her thoughts, Nicki leaned forward slightly. “Will you return to America, Teddy?” He smiled sadly. “Several months ago I thought England lost to me forever. Now—perhaps I shall find a way to stay.” Nicki longed to recall her careless words. Of course he thought England lost to him. At this very moment, a stranger lived in his ancestral home. “I hope you will stay. We have all missed you.” Her father cleared his throat. “Ladies, I believe Ted and me will retire to the study for a bit. Dylan should be here shortly.” Angelica took her cue. “Of course, gentlemen. Mina, Nicole, we should freshen up a bit. We will await you in the music salon, Jonathon. You will not keep us waiting long?” As Nicki started to rise, Teddy reached across the table to take her hand. Startled by his action she stumbled, then recovered and met his unwavering gaze. “I have already kept you waiting too long.” His whispered words careened through Nicki’s mind. Before she could think, she snatched her hand away. Instantly, she was contrite. Whatever was the matter with her? She cast a furtive glance at her family to ensure they had not witnessed the spectacle.    Mina winked, the scamp. Nicki managed a weak smile in Teddy’s direction before bolting from the room. What had she gotten herself into? Good Heavens, the evening had only just begun.  Blake paused with his clenched fist inches from the swirls and leaves carved into the front door of Langley Hall. What was he doing? Entering the home of a family, Billington’s family, with the harshness of hatred burning in his heart like the lanterns lighting the threshold upon which he now stood. The eyes of the signet ring on his index finger sparked, reminding him of his father’s unwavering strength in the face of sentimental foolishness—and lending him fortitude. He had set a course. The anger inside of him would continue to fester and bleed like an uncauterized wound. Until his revenge was complete he would never be healed. He had landed crippling blows to Billington’s and Bartholomew’s finances. Now to deal them their final hands—the losing hands that would cost them emotionally. Then the wound would finally be cauterized. At last. Before Blake could rap his knuckles against the wood, the door swung inward and the skeletal butler stood expectantly in the opening. Simms. That was his name. “I apologize, my lord, but the footman should have escorted you to the door,” Simms said through thin lips held as stiffly as his posture. As the man bowed at the waist, Blake stepped into the foyer illuminated in coruscating light by the dozens  - of candles amidst the prisms of the chandelier. “The footman did not know I had arrived as I did not take my carriage around to the courtyard. I do not intend to stay long.” “Very good, my lord.” The man’s faded blue gaze glanced swiftly outside to Blake’s chaise and the two footmen standing next to it. “I shall have a warm toddy taken out to your men.” “As you like.” Blake removed his cloak and hat and placed them in Simms’ long, slender hands. He tugged his riding gloves off and passed them over as well. From down the hall drifted the tinny notes of a pianoforte accompanied by feminine and masculine voices raised in song, and interlaced with bursts of laughter. For the briefest instant, Blake thought he heard Nicki’s impish giggle. He tensed. She had every reason to be happy. Teddy had returned. Simms turned over Blake’s accouterments to a young blond man in a blue and silver uniform. “This way, my lord. Everyone is gathered in the music room.” “So I hear.” Down the hall they went, beyond the grand staircase, past Billington’s library. When Simms took a right, the music immediately became louder. This smaller hall, with no chandelier overhead, lacked the brightness of the main foyer. It was instead lighted by brass wall lanterns with etched glass sconces positioned between each closed door. At the end of the hall Simms paused and opened the last door on the left. Blake unclenched his fists. He had not realized he was so tense until this moment. He paused in the    doorway and his gaze immediately went to the petite golden-haired girl seated at the pianoforte—next to Bartholomew. A primitive urge came over him to storm across the room, shove the popinjay off the bench—and take his place. Simms cleared his throat. As the music came to a clattering halt, all eyes in the room turned to the door—all save those he most desired to see. Blake forced unfamiliar emotions down into the dark reaches of his heart where such impulsive feelings belonged. With a wry smile, he took in Angelica and Billington seated on a red velvet settee facing the pianoforte. Mina, wide-eyed, sat upon a low stool with a golden harp before her of such size that it dwarfed her small frame. Nicole, still facing the piano keyboard, hands folded primly in her lap, stubbornly refused to turn and meet his gaze. Color stained the side of her face visible to him and he knew his arrival was to blame. The thought irritated him to no end. She had no reason to fear him. Damn Bartholomew and his interference. Angelica broke the suspension of time and rose from the settee. “Lord Diamond, welcome. We had almost believed you would be kept away from us altogether.” With a wry smile, Blake stepped into the room. “I would not have missed this evening for the world. I apologize for my absence at dinner, but business matters continue to bedevil me. We are somewhat isolated out here and my retainers in London and America appear fearful that I shall drop off the face of the earth if they are not sending messengers every hour on the hour.” “We are glad you could tear yourself away.”  - Angelica smiled politely. “Shall we retire to the sitting room?” Blake glanced to Nicole and caught her gaze before she could look away. Something—not fear—confusion, perhaps, darkened her eyes to the color of emeralds against a black velvet cushion. The expression wrenched something deep inside him. “Nonsense. Continue on with your music. From the hall it sounded most enjoyable.” Movement at Nicole’s side drew Blake’s gaze and he saw Teddy lean forward to whisper to Nicole. The anger returned, but he had learned from experience that rage was not the way to deal with an unpleasant situation. He surveyed the room decorated much the same as the sitting room, but with red and gold as the predominant colors. It was rich, lush, and brightly lit by a chandelier set in the arched ceiling with prisms of light that reflected off the white walls. Candles positioned near the musicians lent them sufficient light to see their music sheets. Obviously, the Langleys had taken all their heirlooms from the homes they had been forced to sell and made Langley Hall elegant, if not simple. A gilded music stand stood before a delicate stool in the corner. Nearby stood a cabinet much like a wardrobe, but with glass doors. Through those doors Blake could see various instruments resting on pegs set in the velvet covered back—a flute, a miniature lyre, and several polished violins. Blake moved around the settee where Billington and Angelica had taken their seats again, perched like great tropical birds prepared to take flight. He strolled around    the clawfooted table and the lamp with its shimmering crystals on to the cabinet where he flicked the clasp. “May I?” He looked to Billington, who nodded hesitantly. Blake reached in and took one of the violins, then took the longer of the bows. The silence in the room made every movement he enacted echo as though he was in an empty cavern. “I believe you were playing a Mozart concerto when I arrived?” He directed his question at Nicole, whose curiosity had gotten the better of her. He had her attention. She nodded. “Concerto number three, though not very skillfully, I must admit.” As he strolled past the blazing fire Blake put the base of the violin beneath his chin and held the bow away from the strings, instead plunking them with his fingers to test the tuning. “I have always enjoyed music, though I have little time to pursue such a frivolous pastime.” “But everyone needs some enjoyment, my lord,” Nicole said in a low voice. Blake smiled and lowered his hand to his side. “So we do.” He moved near Bartholomew whose flushed face revealed the state of his temper. With a flourish Blake transferred the bow to the strings, causing Teddy to flinch away as though he believed Blake meant to strike him. Not a bad thought. But not at all his style. Onward he moved around the back of the pianoforte, all the while holding Nicole’s gaze with his. Her eyes had become lighter, more the shade of aquamarine. Good. She was intrigued and had forgotten  - her earlier trepidation. Very good. He paused near the piano and leaned a hip against it so that he could focus all his attention on Nicole. Then he pulled the bow across the strings and the room filled with the lilting, fairy tale notes of Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 3. Surprise flickered in Nicole’s gaze and the slight smile that graced her elfin face stiffened. Blake let the music take hold and swell inside him. He had not picked up a violin since his sixteenth birthday when his Aunt Sophia had gifted him with a hand crafted instrument of such beauty and grace—and his father had argued with Sophia and destroyed the violin in a rage. Blake had never gotten another. Now, as he darted and slid his fingers over the strings and heard the notes flit like magical creatures into the air, Blake realized how much he had missed his music. Eyes shining, Nicole put her fingers to the ivory keys, then Blake heard Mina join in with the ethereal strains of the harp. On and on they played. Nicole continued to meet his gaze without hesitation. As the music slowed to a quieter stretch, Blake noticed Nicole’s breathlessness, the way her breasts pressed against the fabric of her gown. The grace of her hands on the keys summoned visions of her hands moving up his arms, stroking lightly over his shoulders. He wondered if she imagined his own hands on her body. Whether she felt the slightest curiosity as to how his fingers would feel sliding up her delicate spine, playing her like the instrument he held in his hands. Nicole’s eyes darkened as though she read his thoughts. A flush the hue of plum blossoms touched    her cheeks and her tongue darted over her lips. Staring at her mouth, Blake remembered their earlier kiss. He wanted to taste her sweetness again, to drown in the purity of her. The muscles of his arms tensed and he missed a note. Nicole’s fingers stumbled as well and almost simultaneously they created a horrendous unmelodious clamor. Nicole burst out laughing and Blake dropped the violin away from his shoulder, a chuckle breaking free from his throat. Applause from Angelica and Billington brought Blake clattering back to earth. Nicole seemed startled as she brushed nervously at the wayward wisp of spun-gold hair at her cheek. Her pink lips turned up just a little in a self-conscious smile. She was exquisite. Beautiful. And soon she would belong to him. “That was certainly interesting. You missed your calling, Dylan. But then I suppose being a traveling minstrel would be too tame for you.” Teddy’s dry tone caused Blake’s pleasure to slip—but only a little. The smile still on his lips—but forced—Blake met Teddy’s hostile gaze. “I have always been fond of the adage that one should never put all one’s eggs in the same basket. It has served me well. My activities are diverse and therefore my enemies have to be as imaginative as I in trying to bring me down.” A scowl marred Teddy’s Grecian features and a wave of red swept upward from his neck to his forehead. “Of course you would think in a predatory context!” “Is there something wrong with that?” Teddy moved to rise, but Nicole’s hand placed lightly upon his arm held him in his seat. “I suppose not,” he 0 - muttered, covering Nicole’s fingers with his own. The sight caused Blake’s blood to speed its journey through his veins. He looked away from the pair to Angelica. “Is there another song you would like to hear? My repertoire is limited, but I shall do my best.” “You play beautifully, Lord Diamond. Goodness, I cannot think of any songs. Can you, Jonathon?” Billington looked at Angelica as though she had just asked him if he had been chasing the maid. “Can’t say as I can think of any just now. But that was real nice, Diamond. Enjoyed it.” “How about this one?” Nicole put her fingers to the keys to perform the first few notes of a lively tune many ballrooms played for their country dances. One of Strauss’ polkas. With a grin in her direction, Blake tucked the violin beneath his chin and counted the beats before touching the bow to the strings. Teddy sat upright, pasting on a brilliant smile when Nicole would glance his way. Blake understood his irritation—certain it mirrored what he felt just by being in the same room with Bartholomew. Was it because Blake could see that Nicole cared deeply for Teddy? He watched the brightness of laughter touch her face with radiance as her hands moved gracefully over the ivory and black keys. The thought that Bartholomew’s presence had put the light there ate at him. This afternoon she had run from his arms and thrown herself with such abandon into Teddy’s. Damn it, she was Blake’s fiancée. Her first loyalty should be to him. But he had seen today that she may be rightfully his according to the laws of society, but Bartholomew held on to her more tightly with the threads of the past. Looking into those glorious eyes, Blake vowed    those bonds would be severed before long. Nicole Langley would look at no other man with adoration— no man but him. And for that to happen, he had to rid her heart of Teddy Bartholomew. The question left to him now was how—how to win the lovely Nicole. The question surprised him. Over the past years Blake had found women to be dispensable articles, easily discarded. Perhaps it was because Blake had chosen Nicole as his mate—to bear him children and to keep his house comfortable—that he wanted her to care for him. Nicole licked her lips, the green of her eyes darkening. Blake imagined his child growing within her and experienced a hunger so deep and so strong that he caught his breath. Desire, hot and liquid, sped to his groin. He knew she would be passionate—had already proved herself to be more than a little adventurous. And she would be his. Just a few short weeks, and he would have her in his bed. If not before. One thing stood in his way. He had set aside the next day to begin getting Rosewood in order. Now he had one more project to add to his list—to win the affection of the woman he had vowed to marry. Nicole ran her hands down the keys, leaning in front of Teddy without any shyness or trepidation. Blake saw the man take advantage of her position to lean close to her lovely neck. He knew Teddy’s thoughts. And could have killed him for having them. But could not blame him. She was a treasure any man would want for his own. But she was Blake’s prize, and Teddy tread on dangerous ground. Very dangerous ground.
Chapter 9 
Blake arose early in the morning to meet his tenants and familiarize himself with the lay of the land. From his previous examination of the estate accounts, it seemed Teddy had handed him quite an albatross. Already he had spent a small fortune to bring the minute staff current with their wages. Then there were the debts outstanding at the local merchants for supplies used to keep the house in operation over the years, as well as feed for the horses and livestock and numerous other miscellaneous expenses. He had instructed Chester to hire an adequate staff, since the butler had heretofore been running the entire household with only the assistance of his wife and three daughters. The dozen or so tenant homes were situated nearby each on a half acre of land. A mile or so from the permanent shanties was the long building that housed the temporary workers who traveled from estate to estate during harvest time. That edifice would be deserted for several more weeks. At the first of the small stone cottages, a man left the house and approached Blake before he could dismount.    Tall, with a lanky frame, the farmer had pale hair springing from beneath a worn straw hat. He looked to be no more than twenty-five. After pausing before Blake’s horse, he reached out to stroke the horse’s muzzle while he squinted against the early morning sun reflecting off large puffs of grey clouds. “Good morning. I’m the new owner of Rosewood. Blake Dylan.” The man spat, then wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his brown wool coat. “Aye. We ‘eard about ye. Th’ Earl o’ Diamond.” Blake tensed at the thinly veiled hostility. His horse moved nervously beneath him. He kept his voice level. “Is this your farm?” “I lives ‘ere, but it’s yer farm.” “I was not certain the tenants had remained after the Bartholomews left. I have been examining the estate books and…” “We stayed.” The man’s hands clenched into fists at his side. “Isn’t like we ‘ave any place to be movin’, now is it?” If there was one lesson Blake’s father had instilled in him regarding the management of an estate, it was never to talk down to the workers. He grasped the mane of his horse and swung to the ground, forcing the tenant to step back or be knocked over. “There. I like talking to a man face to face. I believe I shared my name, but you have yet to provide me with yours.” “Samuel Willis,” delivered in sullen tones. “Good. Samuel. I was attempting to explain that in examining Rosewood’s accounts I did not see any entries relating to the tenants. Have no crops been  - planted or sold?” A brisk wind sped across the yard bringing with it the scent of damp earth, leather, and horse, and dislodging Samuel’s hat. “Ye’ll be thinkin’ we’ve been livin’ ‘igh and enjoyin’ the run o’ the place,” the man said gruffly as he grabbed for his hat before it could blow away. He held it crushed against his thigh. Blake took his time surveying the yard impeccably free of debris, the front door freshly white washed and early spring flowers blooming in window boxes. The fences separating the yard from the field stood solidly upright. He returned his attention to Samuel. “I prefer to hold my opinions until I learn the facts. If I were to form a conclusion, it would be that you have been working very hard and your place is in fine condition. Have you any arguments with that assumption?” Samuel, unable to mask his surprise, turned slightly to follow the path Blake’s examination had traversed. Some of the hostility left his gaze and he stood a little taller. “No arguments—sir.” “Good. Then perhaps you would apprise me of the condition of the other farms and the crops.” “Me da took care of most of the book work for Sir Thomas, but ‘e died six months afore the Master and young master left for good. I knew what to do from watchin’ me da. It suited the other families for me t’ take over. We been takin’ care of the plantin’ and ‘arvestin’ and marketin’. The master’s share we put in a safe place. We cheated nobody, if that’s what ye’re thinkin’.” Blake raised a brow and crossed his arms over his    chest. “I had never realized I was such a suspicious sort. You obviously are expecting a certain behavior from me. Let me see. Shall I scowl and stomp about the yard? Yes, that might be good. And then I will insist you return all that you have stolen from me or I shall throw you and your family out of your home to starve or freeze to death. There, that should please you, I suppose.” Samuel took a step back then drew himself up proudly. “Ye’re the master here. Ye don’t ‘ave to be pleasin’ the likes o’ me or mine.” Blake held out his hands, palms up, with the reins dangling loosely from his fingers, and shrugged. “I have a weakness, Samuel. I like to take stock of a man before I judge him. My goal this morning was not to harass you or threaten you. I merely wished to meet the tenants. If I offended you, it was not intentional. From what I have seen thus far you have done an admirable job maintaining the farms and I appreciate that.” “I’ll be askin’ for yer pardon, then, M’lord. It was wrong o’ me to take on so.” As if sensing the change in mood, Blake’s horse Banbury pawed at the earth and tossed his head. Blake grabbed the leather bridle strap and murmured a soothing word. He looked at Samuel, whose close-cropped straw colored hair stood on end without the calming effect of the cap. “I think we are off to a much better start. Now, I would like you to be my guide and introduce me to the others. I hope you can take time away from your work to bring your accounts up to the house so we can discuss your continuing on as manager of the farms.”  - Samuel nodded without hesitation. “I’ll get me horse, M’lord. I won’t be but the swish of a pig’s tail.” As the man hurried off, Blake remounted. At least he had one less problem to deal with on his own. The remainder of the day passed quickly. With Samuel at his side as an ally, the other farmers took to Blake instantly. He traversed the green grass of the meadows as they worked to turn the soil and prepare the ground for planting in the early spring, and he admired the efficient layout of the fields. When the farmers took a rest for lunch, he perched on a fence rail with them and shared their fresh-baked bread and cheese washed down with a mug of frothy milk. Later in the afternoon, rain started. In a short time the ground was saturated. A workman’s cart slipped off the nearby road to became buried to the axles in a ditch. When Blake saw it, he rolled up his sleeves and lent a shoulder as the sturdy oxen struggled to drag it free. His muscles ached and mud covered his lower body making his breeches cling to him, chilling him to the bone. But damn, he felt good. Because as long as he could exhaust himself physically, his mind could not plague him.  Indignation gnawed at Nicki’s insides. She reached up to run a finger along the inside of her bonnet. This morning she had awakened excited and anxious for the day to begin, taking extreme pains with her appearance, only to wait in vain for Blake’s arrival. She glanced over the rolling green meadows    crisscrossed with low stone fences and stuffed her hand back into the warmth of her fur muff. At her side sat Teddy, skillfully guiding the carriage over familiar roads that took on a new freshness through his enthusiasm, though little had changed during his absence. The crisp breeze splashed her face, tearing her eyes. Poor Teddy. Seeing the simple pleasure he took in being back home, Nicki marveled at Blake’s callousness in taking something of such importance from someone, even if they had been reckless enough to risk losing it. Yet, if she were honest with herself, that harsh side of Blake intrigued her. Something had happened in his past to bring him teetering at the edge of cruelty. His actions toward her father were not those of a kind person. But it was his gentle patience with Shelby, his attempts to comfort her—to these gestures she held fast. As long as the brief instances were there, he would continue to balance on his precipice without falling. He could be saved. With a jolt of surprise, Nicki realized the earl posed a challenge. A mystery. For the briefest instant she had experienced the absurd desire to be the one to rescue him from himself. “You've disappeared on me again, Nick. Where is it you keep going? As it’s obviously more exciting than here, I’d like to go with you.” Nicki shook off her thoughts and grinned at Teddy, earning a responding sparkle from his topaz eyes. “It has always been the other way around, Teddy, and you know it. I have ever traipsed about after you because I was certain wherever you would go had to be much more fun than where I was.”  - “I’m flattered, dearest.” “Usually it meant much more trouble than I would have found on my own.” Teddy cast a questionable glance in her direction. “You were so naive and so honest. All you had to do is tell one little fib to save yourself, yet you would be noble.” A chill ran up Nicki’s spine and she leaned closer to Teddy, burrowing her fingers further into her muff. “I prefer honesty, no matter the cost.” “I always said you were a dreamer, Nick.” She knew he could not have forgotten the horror of his father’s drunken rages. Teddy could not have forgotten. Nicki would hold those horrible memories for the rest of her life. “Tell me, Teddy, how has your life been since we parted? The truth, please, not entertaining stories. I know it must have been hard for you when you and your father left England. Whatever happened to him, bye the bye?” It was as though Teddy drew away from her, though he did not move. “Several months after we arrived in America, my father was attacked outside our hotel, beaten, and robbed. He was cut, on his arm, clear to the bone. It took him several weeks to die from his injuries and he was in terrible pain the entire time. The physician wanted to remove his arm, but he flatly refused. Pride you know. It was the gangrene that killed him.” Real tears pricked at Nicki’s eyes. No matter what demons had eaten at Randolph Bartholomew, he was still Teddy’s father. She withdrew one hand from her muff and slipped it through his arm.    “It must have been a nightmare for you.” “I had no money to pay the doctor, so I gave him all my father’s clothing.” Teddy squeezed Nicki’s hand against his ribs with his elbow. “I thought that satisfied him, but he returned with the sheriff, saying I had not paid him anything.” “How horrible!” “You don’t want to hear this, Nick. The amusing stories are much more fun to tell.” “I do want to hear.” Nicki pressed her fingers into the scratchy wool of his jacket sleeve. “I am your friend, Teddy, I always have been.” He shifted the reins into one hand and pressed Nicki’s fingers where they dug into his arm. “I know, little one, but some things I could never share—not even with you. It’s best to forget.” “I do not believe you can ever forget, but having someone to listen sometimes makes it easier to leave incidents in the past where they can no longer hurt you.” Teddy looked at her in surprise, then drew the horses to halt. “You’ve grown into quite a young woman, Nicki Langley.” “After the sheriff came, what happened then?” “If I’d had the money, he would’ve let me go free. But I’d just paid up the bill on our hotel room with the last of our coin. I tried to explain to the sheriff that I’d given the doctor my father’s wardrobe, which was worth much more than the fees. The doctor said I was a liar. I think the sheriff believed me, but the doctor was a respected citizen. I, on the other hand, was a foreigner. A foreigner whose country was at war with theirs. He took me to jail.” A cry of dismay escaped her lips before Nicki 0 - could stop it. “But how could you get the money if you were imprisoned?” “Somehow Blake Dylan learned I was in jail and he came and paid the money to gain my release.” “Blake? But why? I thought you only met him in America.” Teddy’s expression revealed the distance of his thoughts. “I knew Blake in England. I don’t know what possessed him to come to my rescue, but he did. He gave me money to find new lodgings, since the hotel tossed me out after learning I had no more funds. He suggested I find a job. I assured him I would pay him back, but he said he never wanted to see me again.” “How odd.” “I found a room for rent in a house run by a kindly old widow. She helped me find a job cleaning up in a saloon after hours, and setting the place up for business the following afternoon. I had never worked a day in my life and suddenly I was cleaning up vomit, spilled liquor, and tobacco juice. It was all I could do not to end my life at that point.” Pride at Teddy’s courage and heart-wrenching sorrow at his pain constricted the muscles of her throat. “It was very brave of you, Teddy. Some people in the same position might have given up. I am proud of you.” “I’m not so sure you should be, Nick. At any rate, the saloon keeper liked me. He promoted me to dealer at the blackjack tables. It paid well, and I was good at it. The customers liked me. It was then Blake entered my life once again.” “You make it sound like a curse.” Teddy offered his best grin, guaranteed to soften the hardest of hearts, but Nicki sensed the anguish    behind the smile. “I’ve no notion of the wrong he feels I’ve committed against him.” He sighed deeply. “At any rate, he always came to my table. He seemed to enjoy flashing his money about, as if to show me what a success he had made out of his flight from England. Night after night he came. Finally, he challenged me to a game at another club where the stakes weren’t limited. Fool that I was, I agreed. Perhaps in my pride I wanted to prove to him I was as good as he. That was the night I lost Rosewood. I hadn’t seen Blake again until yesterday, in your stables. When I saw you in his arms, I thought surely my eyes were deceiving me. I thought my heart had been ripped from my body.” With her chilled hand, Nicki wiped tears away from her cheeks. “You must accept the marriage, Teddy. I cannot change anything, though I tried. If you are my friend, you will support me.” Teddy turned to her, the features of his face distorted by fury and frustration. “He’s a monster, Nick, and he’ll destroy you if you let him. Come away with me now, today! Marry me and there’s nothing he can do. He’ll go away then, back to hell where he came from. And he’ll not have you.” “I cannot run away! If I am anything, I am no coward.” “Is it cowardly to choose the man you love over a devil who wants only to crush you beneath the heel of his boot? Is it such a noble thing to sacrifice yourself to a life of bitter unhappiness?” She returned her hand to her muff, shivering within the folds of her fur-lined cloak. Her own fears echoed in Teddy’s words. What kind of marriage could she have without love? Once again the vision of her  - mother’s mournful eyes rose to haunt her. Could she consign herself to the same fate? “If you care for me, you will stop this at once,” she murmured miserably. Teddy took her chin in his gloved hand, drawing her face to meet his gaze. “How can I watch you go to this marriage like a fatted calf to the slaughter? You ask too much.” “It is you who ask too much! Had you come back years ago, none of this would have happened. Then I was free to marry you, Teddy. I might have known you would come back into my life at the precise moment I became lost to you forever.” His eyes shimmered golden with moisture and Nicki instantly regretted her words. “Do you hate me so, then?” As she drew back from his hand, he did not try to hold her. “I could never hate you. But I waited for you—I waited a very long time.” He watched her for a long moment, then slapped the reins crisply. The horses lunged in the traces and the carriage jerked into motion. “It seems I have some reparations to make. But have no doubt, Nick, this is far from finished.” Huddling further into her cloak, she clutched her cold hands together within the softness of her muff. The joy of the afternoon had fled. A light drizzle sprayed their faces as the carriage rolled briskly over the narrow road. Shortly, it turned into a heavy rain. Teddy turned for home. If Teddy only knew how tempting his offer was—how easy it would be to throw caution to the wind and ride away with him. The carriage soon rounded a curve in the road and    Nicki saw a cart off to the side of the road, mired in sludge. Three men pushed the cart from the rear while one stood at the heads of a pair of sturdy oxen who struggled within the traces, mud splattered over their heaving sides. Teddy glanced at the spectacle then back to the road, obviously uninterested, though the rain had diminished to a drizzle once again. One of the men at the back of the cart stood head and shoulders over the other two. Wet mud covered him from foot to the waist; dotted the back of his white shirt and the sleeves he had rolled up to his elbows. Nicki recognized that mud bespattered posterior immediately. Blake. She flushed at the direction of her thoughts, and attention, then raised her gaze to the wet raven hair. Good Heavens, what was he doing rolling about in the mud? “Good afternoon, my lord,” she called, waving. He looked around sharply in apparent surprise. At that moment the cart lurched backward. Nicki watched in horror as Blake slipped and went down on his back. The other two men desperately tried to hold their positions, but without Blake’s help were unable to keep the wheels from rolling backward—toward the earl. “Blake!” Icy fingers of fear clenched Nicki’s heart. “Merciful heaven, what have I done! Stop, Teddy. Stop!” Before the carriage rolled to a halt, Nicki had tossed her muff aside and clasped her skirts away from her feet to leap from the vehicle. The heels of  - her low-topped kidskin boots sank into the wet earth of the road. Her only thought consisted of getting to Lord Diamond—to make certain he had not been injured as a result of her distracting him. “Blake!” Nicki startled the two mud-covered farmers standing at the rear of the cart when she stumbled from the road and down the low bank. The black ooze immediately sucked her down several inches, forcing Nicki to drop her skirts and use her flailing arms to maintain her balance. She dragged her feet from the mud one slow determined step at a time to continue her journey to the earl. “Where is he? Help him!” she cried, finally reaching the rear of the cart. The farmers continued to stare at her, still and silent. Pushing past one of the men, Nicki dropped to her knees and half crawled beneath the wagon. Desperately, she searched the area under the cart, certain she would find Blake’s body, broken and bleeding. All her fault. What had she done? There he was. But instead of being unconscious and badly injured, she saw his mud covered face break into a smile. “How kind of you to join me, my dear, but unnecessary.” With her sudden relief came a distinct feeling of discomfort. Chilling water soaked through her gown where she knelt and she could feel muck fill her fragile boots that were better suited to riding than traversing through ditches. Embarrassment sent heat rising up her neck and past the silk bow tied beneath her chin to come to rest in her cheeks. “I say, Nick, is he hurt?” At the question Nicki craned around one of the farmers to see Teddy standing    up in the carriage. Blake chuckled and Nicki brought her gaze back to him. “I am thrilled you find this so amusing, my lord.” She had meant to sound daunting, but the words came out peevish. “On the contrary, my dear. I am flattered.” He reached up and grasped the back of the wagon to rise. He dragged himself toward Nicki, who quickly got to her feet and sidestepped away to avoid being knocked down. When Blake stood and faced Nicki he more resembled some nightmarish gnome creature from the pages of a child’s storybook than a titled earl. The other men, joined by their counterpart who had held the oxen in tow, converged about Blake, obviously concerned for his welfare—though somewhat belatedly, in Nicki’s opinion. He shook mud from his hands and wiped them on his shirt front. The earl laughed away their concerns, and finally turned to Nicki. “These men need to be on their way.” Feeling out of place, Nicki turned to leave. The hem of her skirts had become saturated and heavy. “Of course. I shall just wait for you on the road.” She went to take a step, but the mud hung on to her boot and only her stocking foot came free. Blake bent and tugged her shoe from the mire. Without warning, he swung Nicki into his arms. All she could do was hold on to his strong shoulders as he strode up and out of the ditch, deposited her on the road, then handed over her shoe. Before she could speak, he turned on his heel and returned to the cart. Dripping footwear in hand, Nicki wondered at her  - odd behavior. She should be just a little disappointed that the earl had not been squashed flat, as such an occurrence would have freed her from the engagement. But all she felt was relief that he was safe. Within moments, the men had pushed the wagon free and the oxen lunged back onto the road. Nicki took advantage of the time to pour the muck out of her boot and put it back on. She assessed the damage she had done to her clothing by charging into the ditch like a madwoman—not to mention what had transferred from Blake’s clothing and arms to her when he picked her up. “What were you thinking, jumping out of the carriage like that, Nick? You could have been badly hurt.” She avoided Teddy’s gaze as she swatted ineffectually at the mud caking the front of her skirts. “I suppose I was not thinking at all, Teddy. That is my way, is it not?” Irritation made Nicki’s words sharp. Already she was regretting her impetuous behavior and imagining Angelica’s expression when she returned from a harmless carriage ride drenched and looking as though she had been in a stable yard tussle. “Get in the carriage and let’s get you home and into something dry.” After examining the back of her cloak Nicki looked to the fine leather of the seats. This was the only carriage her family had managed to hold on to, the others having been sold to pay the creditors. “Perhaps I should walk alongside, Teddy. I’ve ruined my gown, I should not want to destroy the carriage as well.” Nicki heard the cart rumble off down the road and turned to see Blake striding toward her leading the    handsome bay he had ridden yesterday. Somehow, he had managed to wipe away most of the dirt from his face. A lock of coal hair dropped over his forehead. Despite the chill, he had not redonned the black coat slung across his saddle. He looked devastatingly masculine in his shirtsleeves with his sodden leather pants clinging to his body—and leaving little to the imagination. He flashed a very pleased grin. “Bartholomew. I had no idea you were here, but there you are, sitting in the carriage. Far from harm’s way.” Blake motioned in the direction of the disappearing cart. “Did you not recognize some of the farmers from Rosewood? I should think you might have said hello.” Unwilling to believe she had just heard Blake’s words, Nicki looked at Teddy and the rage she saw in his face assured her that her ears had not deceived her. Before Teddy could speak, she turned to the earl. “I missed you this morning, my lord. I thought you meant to come for tea.” His silver gaze flashed to her, intense. “I did not realize my presence would be missed. I shall not be so derelict of my duties in the future.” That answer was not at all what Nicki had meant to glean, but at least in speaking to her he did not bait Teddy. “I realize you must be busy. I… well, I merely wondered. It is not as if I pined away all morning.” A slight smile turned up one side of his mouth and he placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me, my dear. I had hoped—” “Stop being difficult, my lord.” She met his gaze. “Are you hurt at all?” “Only my pride. If I had known you were watching  - I would have demonstrated my masculine prowess, not landed on my back in the mud.” She attempted to appear austere, but a smile escaped. “I am devastated that I nearly caused you to come to harm.” “Then it was well worth the humiliation.” Nicki thought he did not behave as though he had been embarrassed. In fact, she wondered if there existed anything on the face of the earth that could shake Lord Diamond’s imperturbable calm. “If the two of you are finished, Diamond, I’d like to get Nicki out of the weather.” Teddy’s voice held an edge of frustrated fury. She brushed at a strand of hair that had somehow managed to escape the confines of her bonnet. “Will you come to dinner tonight?” Blake met Nicki’s gaze. “I must decline, much as it pains me to do so. I have made arrangements to go over Rosewood’s tenant accounts with Samuel Willis.” He fastened Teddy with a cold stare. “You remember Samuel, Bartholomew? His father used to do the accounts for your father. Nice man. I think I shall enjoy working with him.” “You bas—” Teddy broke off his words and made to rise, but Nicki lifted her filthy skirts and scurried to the other side of the carriage. “We should be going.” She made several attempts to climb inside, but the weight of her damp gown and the lack of a stepping stool impeded her progress. As she felt herself grasped about the waist and lifted from behind, Nicki caught her breath. Quickly, her feet touched the floor of the carriage and Blake released her, but she continued to feel the strength of his hands    blazing into her skin through her clothing. Such talented hands, creating heavenly music the night before, then put into service to help those farmers today. Her knees buckled unexpectedly and she collapsed into the seat. Trying to appear nonchalant, despite the frantic racing of her heart, Nicki met the earl’s amused gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, then changed her mind. Any words she might have uttered would surely make no sense with her faculties in such turmoil. His grin broadened. “I will see you tomorrow. I promise.” She flushed, feeling as though he had been inside her mind listening to her thoughts. Before she could respond, Teddy slapped the reins smartly and the carriage jolted into motion. Nicki retrieved her abandoned muff and slipped her cold hands inside. She dared not look back. But then, she did not need to. The earl’s image had somehow become burned into her mind. Fragile drops of rain once again escaped the molten grey skies overhead and Nicki lifted her face to accept their sweetness. She knew if she asked him to, Teddy would keep moving and never stop, thus taking her away from Blake forever. But she could not let that happen. Not yet. What held her was such a tenuous thing, but it held her just the same. No matter what manner of vile creature Teddy believed Blake to be, Nicki saw something more. She could not flee without knowing for certain what lay in the deepest heart of the Diamond.  0 - Blake held the reins in his mud caked hands and watched the carriage move swiftly out of sight in the rain. His fiancée. Rushing off with another man. Nicole raised her face to the sky and he imagined her lips curving upward in a secretive smile. So lovely. And she must be extremely happy. After all, she sat next to Teddy. As the carriage disappeared around a bend in the road, Blake experienced a chill that burrowed deep beneath his skin and turned his insides cold. He pulled his jacket off the saddle and shoved his arms into the sleeves, but the garment did little to warm him. Best to get back to Rosewood and partake of a glass of brandy while he soaked in a steaming hot bath. Soon it would be time to meet with Samuel. He climbed into the saddle and urged his horse in the opposite direction from Teddy and Nicole. The wet wind in his face smelled fresh and clean, unlike the black air of London, and the stench on board the ship that had brought him to England. The rolling meadows of Shropshire worked on his nerves like a soothing drought. Today he had managed to avoid thinking of Bartholomew and Nicole, instead concerning himself with problems he could easily solve. Now he almost wished he had agreed to go to Langley Hall tonight, to remain at Nicole’s side every moment so that Teddy would not be free to spill his vile poison into her ears. But what could Teddy tell her that was not true for the most part? Blake imagined having time enough with Nicole to allow her to know him and he to know her before unveiling the past and all its painful secrets. Already she had learned he had been behind her    father’s financial ruin and that had resulted in her desperate attempt to fob Mina off on him. That thought brought a smile tugging at his mouth. Perhaps he should let her go. Obviously she wanted Teddy. Who was he to hold her to a marriage he had trapped her into? 
 Chapter 10 
Nicki ran the brush through her hair with long, methodical strokes. She watched the flash of the shining brass against her blond curls in the gold-framed wall mirror. No extravagant coiffures tonight, no special pains taken with her appearance. She laid the brush next to the comb on her dressing table and flicked open the tarnished clasp on the carved wooden box containing her collection of hair ribbons. Emerald, she thought. Emerald to match the silk trim of the brown dress she had chosen to wear. The velvet caught gently at her hair as she wound it through her curls to pull it tight and tie it in a small bow over her ear. She attributed her lethargy to the hot bath she had taken after her afternoon outing with Teddy. Then there was the frayed state of her pride every time she remembered leaping from the carriage and throwing herself into the mud without the slightest hesitation. Those feelings certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Blake Dylan did not intend to come to Langley Hall tonight. As far as Nicki was concerned, he could just hold up inside Rosewood forever.    But his assertion yesterday afternoon that he intended to fight for her doused cold water on that hope. He would return. And once again she would find herself the peacekeeper while the earl baited and Teddy grasped each barb with angry vigor. Nicki jumped to her feet and stormed to the window. Staring into the darkness beyond the glass she recalled Teddy’s desperate plea of the afternoon. Run away with him and let Blake return to the hell of his life. Emotion caught in her chest. What had turned Blake’s life into such torment, and what had happened between him and Teddy? Her father’s initial reaction to Blake had been to call him a fiend from hell. Teddy’s reaction was much the same. Something had happened between Blake and her father to drive the earl to ruin their family, but she knew her father and could not imagine anything that would cause someone to hate him so. How could she marry the Earl of Diamond when he had already alienated the two most important men in her life? A soft knock sounded. Nicki turned at the sound. “Come in.” With a slight rattle of the knob and a sigh, the door swung open and Angelica entered the room. “You were late coming down. I came to see if there was a problem.” Nicki quickly masked her surprise and shook her head in denial. “I merely lost track of the time.” Angelica wore a gown of forest green that turned her eyes to the hue of emeralds. That glittering gaze took in Nicki’s appearance in one swift movement. “So you were informed the earl will not be at dinner tonight?”  - “Teddy and I happened upon him on the road today and he said he had a prior engagement. Perhaps he has lost interest in me and will return to America,” she sighed, “and leave us in peace.” “Peace—in this household? That is some vague ideal I have not found since marrying your father. But I have found something much more precious than peace. I have found love.” Nicki faced the window again. “Then you are lucky.” With a murmur of silk, Angelica came to lean against the window casement opposite Nicki. Her fingers traced the scuffed paint on the lower sill. “I am concerned for you, Nicole. Since your father made the marital arrangement with the Duke of Melton you have behaved quite irrationally. Now I fear you are in a situation of your own making and you are at a loss as to how to extricate yourself from it.” “As you said, it is my situation. I shall deal with it, have no worry.” “Nicole, I have watched you grow from a child who was small and fragile for her age into a beautiful young woman. Your behavior has concerned me because I feared you would be hurt. I think you always felt I was attacking you, but—” A harsh laugh escaped Nicki’s lips. “You never attack, Angelica. No, you are much too subtle for direct assault. It suits you much better to issue painful barbs and disdainful remarks that cut much deeper than any open honest criticism.” “It seems we are both guilty of that. The more I tried to be your mother, the more you withdrew into rebellion.”    “I never asked you to be my mother, Angelica.” The words felt as though Nicki had ripped them from her throat. “Of course not, I meant only that—” Abruptly, Nicki pushed from the window. “Let it rest. Soon I shall be out of this house and out of your life. We do not need to hash over the past at this point.” Angelica straightened. “Very well. I merely wanted to make you aware that I do care what happens to you, Nicole. No matter what you believe or what I have led you to believe, I care—deeply.” As she stood to face her stepmother with her hands squeezed into fists at her side, tears burned behind Nicki’s eyes. Stubbornly she banished them. “Did Papa send you?” “No. Your father has been blissfully ignorant of the true extent of your animosity for me.” Nicki clutched her skirts to hide the sudden trembling of her hands. “Be content with your conquest of Mina. I was older and not so naive.” “Nicole, please…” “Stop! I prefer our hostile silence to this.” Angelica stepped closer, hand outstretched, but Nicki backed away. “I want to help you. I know how you suffer from the indecision. Perhaps if you talked it out with someone older…” Nicki bumped into the Hepplewhite dresser, barring further retreat. She turned around to lean against the wood. The handles dug into her thighs. Her breath came in harsh gasps. Marguerite’s white face danced before her eyes, terrifying and horrible because it was a mask of death and hopelessness. She drew in a steadying breath.  - “Mina has always needed you and you were there for her. I am grateful to you for that. But you and I— we are a chapter that was closed before it began. Leave it at that.” “I have never understood your hatred, Nicole.” Nicki closed her eyes. She dismissed the visions and summoned the screen that protected her from the madness that dwelt with the nightmarish memories. “The others will wonder what we have been up to.” Nicki looked up to meet Angelica’s gaze in the small mirror that stood on the dresser. With the slight squaring of her shoulders, Angelica’s control was restored. “Simms was searching for you. He had a message from Andrew.” Nicki nodded. A sigh, then a thud as the door closed. Blessed silence. Trembling with reaction, Nicki stumbled to her dressing table and dropped onto the stool. The last thing she wanted to deal with now was a kinder, more sympathetic Angelica. Best to leave their relationship as it stood than to delve into the emotions secreted deep in the recesses of her heart. Better to think of something else. Andrew’s message. That meant a late night call to the stables. But first, she must get through the evening. That should be easy with Blake spending his time at Rosewood.  Blake turned page after page of the first journal provided to him by Samuel. He made several notes on a sheet positioned on his desk next to the books. After making his way through nearly half, he paused and set    the pen down. Samuel sat up in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. “M’da taught me. I can’t say I ever spent a day in a schoolroom. But th’ figures, they’re complete.” “There you go jumping to the defensive before you have been attacked. These books are impressive, Samuel. I do not think there is much I would change.” Samuel reached down to touch the wooden chest at his feet, obviously to reassure himself it had not disappeared in the few moments since he had last checked. “Yer money’s here, m’lord. Ever’ last copper matches the ledgers.” “I have no doubt. You have been running the farms for quite some time, and I would like you to explain to me all that you do. One change I would make is that from this point you should deposit the rents into an account I have arranged for that purpose. All you must do is complete the forms and Chester will see that the moneys arrive at the bank in London.” The young man took the bankbook tentatively. “I… I ‘aven’t th’ first notion—I never set eyes on a bank.” “That is the purpose of our meeting. I will answer your questions and you shall answer mine. We will learn together.” Understanding dawned, and Samuel leaned forward. “It’d be an ‘onor t’ learn from ye, sir.” “My father taught me a great deal, just as yours taught you. Let us draw on their wisdom and perhaps find a little of our own as well.” “There was ideas me da had tha’ Sir Randolph wouldn’t ‘ear of, an’ I think they was good ones. Master Ted never wanted nothin’ to do with farmin’, bein’ partial to th’ city.”  - Blake leaned back in his chair, rested his elbows on the padded arms and watched Samuel over his tented fingers. “Ah, the city. I think the world turns faster in town and all the people must rush about to keep from falling off and being left behind. It is great fun for a time, but one must return to the country to slow down and reflect, and get down to what life is truly about.” “Da took me to London once. It’s a terrifyin’ thing, all them folk. A body could be crushed an’ no one’d pay any mind.” “If they stop, they might be run over by someone else. Self preservation demands constant movement.” “It doesn’t seem ye like the city much yerself.” Blake shook his head. “London is a necessary evil, Samuel, but one I shall be blissfully free of for at least several weeks. You may have to deal with my solicitor in London but that can be done through the post.” He pushed several journals aside and pulled a sheet of paper from beneath a stack of books. “This is his name and address.” Samuel stood to retrieve the folded page, then took his seat again and tucked the address carefully inside the bank book. He remained obviously ill at ease. “Ye’re a trusting soul, m’lord.” Blake returned the open journal to the stack before him. “You are mistaken, I assure you. If you had not already proven your worth by your actions over the past few years we would not be sitting here now discussing your future in my employ. You would most assuredly be packing your belongings.” “I hope I can continue t’be of value t’ye, sir.” Blake kept leafing through the journal pages. “That is up to you.”    “I’d be askin’ a favor of ye, sir, of sorts…” Glancing up, Blake saw crimson stained the man’s face. Casually, he returned his gaze to the pages before him. “You may ask.” Samuel swallowed audibly. “M’daughter, sir. She’s just turned fourteen—and she’s a gem in the kitchen.” Blake rubbed his chin absently, to give the impression the books thoroughly absorbed his attention. “Chester is continuing with interviews for potential staff members in the morning. Have your girl come around at ten o’clock. I will inform Chester to expect her.” “Thank ye, sir. She’s a good girl, an’ bright. The wife an’ me, we teaches all the little ‘uns to read and write.” “That is very wise, Samuel. I see here that each farm is tallied separately. Why is this farm such a high producer?” Samuel stood and came around the desk, the last vestiges of misgiving gone. Blake stifled a smile of satisfaction. He rather liked playing lord of the manor. Perhaps there was more of his father in him than he had thought.  Nicki eased her bedroom window open and slipped out. Maneuvering through the tree limbs with experienced ease, she dropped to the ground moments later. Damp leaves and twigs crunched beneath her feet as she hurried through the darkness, around the edge of the house to the graveled pathway that lead to the cobbled courtyard and the stables. 00 - Immediately upon entering the long building that housed the Langley champion Thoroughbreds, the familiar, comforting scents of straw, horses, and leather surrounded her, enveloped her. A lantern hung on a long nail outside the entrance to one of the stalls. Its light cast shadows on the dark openings of the other compartments. Nicki retrieved an apron from a peg on the wall outside the feed room and donned it as she hurried to reach the lighted stall. Just as she knew he would be, Andrew, the senior stable hand, knelt in the straw next to Aphrodite, his dark head bent close to the mare’s. Nicki heard the soothing murmur of his deep voice and paused, clutching the top of the half door. “I knew ye’d come,” said Andrew without looking up. “Of course I came. How is she?” He stroked the mare’s sleek white neck tenderly, then stood. “She’s doin’ just grand, m’lady. She’ll give us a fine little beauty afore mornin’.” Nicki released the latch and slipped inside. Aphrodite nickered softly at her approach. “There’s my girl.” As she dropped to her knees in the straw, the mare lifted her head and moved to rest it on Nicki’s pooled skirts. With a catch in her throat, Nicki placed her hand on the delicately arched neck. Aphrodite was their prize mare, and Nicki’s favorite. Two years before she had given them Zeus, a coal black colt who lived up to his exalted name to become king of the stables. Nicki grinned as she recalled Adonis’s discomfiture at the young stallion’s arrogance. Eventually the elder horse had stepped aside, though not far. Diana,   0 also a black, would have Adonis’s foal in early spring. Andrew leaned back in the corner of the stall, arms crossed over his narrow chest. His weathered face was like a saddle that had never been oiled or cared for. Nicki met his obsidian gaze. “Thank you for sending the message.” He acknowledged her words with the briefest movement of his head. “It calms ‘er ta ‘ave ye ‘ere.” Nicki returned her attention to Aphrodite. Angelica would most likely swoon dead away if she knew Andrew summoned Nicki for every birth in the stables, but the reward far outweighed the risk. She agreed with Andrew. Her presence seemed to relax the horses and make the birthing process easier. Would she be here in the spring for Diana’s first foal? Nicki banished the thought swiftly. Aphrodite needed her now. She dared not think of the future. Just then a sharp crack sounded in the stall next to them. Nicki started before she realized the cause of the noise. “Stop that this instant, Hera! If you would ever leave off biting the stallions perhaps you could have some of this attention!” An answering whinny from behind the wall brought a giggle from Nicki and a quick grunt of amusement from Andrew. “Minx,” he grumbled tenderly. “Does she still chase Achilles?” “Sure ‘n she cornered ‘im down by the creek this mornin’. ‘e ain’t been no good to none o’ the others since she’s been pesterin’ ‘im.” Nicki ran her hand along Aphrodite’s smooth white neck. “I think she likes him.” “Well ‘e don’ like ‘er none, long as all she does is trap ‘im so’s she ken take a bite out o’ ‘im.” 0 - Nicki laughed. “Maybe she wants him to stop being such a gentleman.” “Mayhap she does. If she keeps up ‘er tormentin’, she’ll git ‘er wish.” A sudden realization struck Nicki—perhaps her own situation resembled Hera’s a little too closely. She had thought dinner would be a pleasant affair without the earl, but she could not help but compare the rather mundane game of whist to the boisterous fun of the evening before in the music room. If she had not received Andrew’s message, she might now be climbing up the side of Rosewood to the earl’s bedchamber to hand him a royal dressing down for avoiding her. She would also have demanded that he release her from the engagement if he was as uninterested as he seemed. Reflecting on the speech she had practiced in her mind at dinner, she thought it probably best she was here in the stables. Blake Dylan did not seem the type to be much affected by irate females, and Nicki preferred to see the results when she roasted a person. Deuce take it, why could she not face the truth? She missed the devil. And it hurt that he did not seem to feel the same. It hurt deeply. Throughout the evening, Teddy had watched her with concern evident in his gaze. Let him watch. His solution was preposterous and Nicki refused to consider it. Run away, indeed. She had never run from anything in her life—except perhaps the engagement to the Duke of Melton. But that was different. Nicki paused at that thought and attempted to rationalize how it was different. Of course, the engagement to Blake had been of her own doing, in a   0 roundabout way. The Earl of Diamond was young and handsome, while the Duke was a lecherous old man of thirty-five. Nicki nibbled at her lower lip. But Teddy was at least thirty and he did not seem so old. The earl was almost Teddy’s age. So why was he not a lecherous old man? Perhaps she should take a few lessons from Hera. A well placed bite here and there and she would be free of both men, and any other that might try to interrupt her comfortable existence. But what about Teddy’s easy laughter? And Blake’s kiss that wound insidiously throughout her inner soul until she wanted nothing more than to be his completely. The mare’s behavior rebuffed kindness. As a result she had to chase after Achilles and suffer his attempts to avoid her. That did not seem to be such a good plan after all. Aphrodite made a groaning sound and Nicki leaned closer and murmured softly in an attempt to calm the mare. “Soon, my love. It will not be long now.”  “She’s a fine un, m’lady. Jus’ look at ‘er.” Tears blurred Nicki’s vision. She wiped them impatiently away. The foal stood on impossibly long legs that twitched and trembled, and threatened to buckle at any moment. “She certainly is, Andrew. I shall call her Calypso because she is the color of the foam on the sea.” Aphrodite craned her neck about to tenderly nuzzle the snow white filly. “That she is, m’lady.” 0 - Nicki backed slowly to the door and exited the stall. She closed the gate carefully not to startle the new arrival. Weariness settled over her, but could not dampen her joy at witnessing the miracle of another life coming into the world. Andrew glanced over the gate one last time before turning to her. With a deep sigh, Nicki reached out to give his rough hand a quick squeeze. “I had best return to the house before I am missed. This birth was a long one.” Andrew nodded solemnly. “’Tis well past midnight.” “Good night, Andrew, and please send for me at once if anything untoward should happen.” “I plan to ‘ave m’ boy Tamm set up wit’ ‘er. I’ll get some rest, then return first thing in the morn.” Nicki nodded, anxious to get to bed. A wooden stand near the door held a bucket filled with water. She removed the apron that partially protected her skirts during the birth and hung it on a nearby nail. Andrew would see it was cleaned and returned to its place for the next event. The icy water chilled her to the bone and encouraged her to wash quickly. On a shelf above the washstand rough squares of linen were folded and stacked neatly. She took one and dried her hands. As she slipped through the stable doors, the night surrounded her in a shroud of nebulous darkness. Though heavy clouds obliterated the stars that had shone earlier in the evening, Nicki could have found her way back to the house blindfolded. The lamp she had left burning on the table next to the window in her room worked to guide her up the trunk of the tree and into the upper branches.   0 Anxious to reach the warmth of her bed, Nicki inched deftly along the limb to the roof overhang. “I see you shared my opinion that it is a glorious evening for a climb.” Nicki gasped, simultaneously losing her footing and nearly falling before a strong hand snaked out to steady her. “Damnation!” erupted from her lips in a rush. With a wide grin, Blake drew her against him, lifting her until her feet left the branch. “Such language!” He backed toward the window with an ease that put her efforts to shame. “I think I shall have to take serious measures to curb your tongue once we are wed.” Blake held her clasped firmly against the hard planes of his body. “So there is still to be a wedding? I had thought perhaps you would return to America after the fiasco this afternoon.” He quirked one dark brow questioningly. “And leave you behind? The thought is ludicrous. I was extremely touched by your concern.” “How reassuring!” She caught her breath as Blake turned and perched her on the windowsill. She had to cling to the wood to keep from sliding off. He remained near, his body positioned intimately between her spread knees. “Perhaps you believe me to be ludicrous as well to entertain such a notion.” “Did you miss me so much, darling Nicole?” He grinned. “Is that the reason for your irritation?” Tingling heat crept up her neck, and she stifled the unladylike desire to give him a good sound smack. “I am not irritated. It is just that you did not come in the morning, and then you missed dinner tonight. I hardly 0 - expected you to appear outside my window in the early hours of the morning.” “I did not arrive in the early hours of the morning.” His warm breath turned to mist in the space between their bodies and drew Nicki’s gaze to his mouth. “I have been sitting here since well before midnight awaiting your return from wherever it is you disappeared to.” She scooted back slightly for better balance and found she could release her hold on the sill, but the earl still remained too close for her own comfort. “If I had known you planned to make an appearance, I should have made myself available to you. But I hardly took you for the tree climbing sort.” Blake enfolded her hands in his, somehow slipping closer though Nicki had not noticed him take a step. “Your hands are frozen. Where have you been?” Their hands, intertwined against the dark green of her threadbare wool skirts, held Nicki’s attention while she mentally mulled over several possible stories. With a sigh of defeat, she raised her gaze to his face. “You will think worse of me than you already do, but I cannot lie to you.” “Oh?” The grip of his fingers stiffened slightly. “Aphrodite just gave birth to a beautiful daughter and I have called her Calypso.” His skeptical expression told Nicki he thought her claim to honesty most certainly a lie. “Might I be so bold as to ask who Aphrodite is and why she is willing to allow you to name her child such an odd name?” “Aphrodite is one of our prize mares, and Calypso is a breathtaking filly of the purest white—just like a fresh snowfall. She will be a champion just like her mother.” Blake’s gaze narrowed. “Do you mean to tell me   0 that you have just witnessed the birth of a horse?” She might have known he would react badly, but she forged on, anxious to get the entire truth said and behind her. “I make certain I am with all the mares when they give birth, to calm them.” “I see.” His brows drew together in apparent exasperation. “Your parents must be overjoyed with that habit.” “No one knows but the trainer, and his sons—and now you. I warned you that you might not like the idea. If Angelica knew she would chain me to the bed post.” Blake’s grin returned, broader this time. “An intriguing idea. Perhaps I shall employ that tactic as well—once we are wed, of course.” “You, sir, are much too fresh.” He released her hands to place one palm over his heart. “Forgive me, Lady Nicole, I am severely backward when it comes to conversing appropriately whilst standing on a tree branch.” “Why did you come here? You could have come to tea tomorrow.” Blake chuckled softly. “I was in the midst of reviewing Chester’s voluminous list of new staff members when I was overcome with the need to speak with you.” Nicki’s heart skipped a beat, then hammered in her chest. “Do you mean to say your heart told you to come here in the middle of the night?” His amusement abruptly disappeared. “My heart has nothing to do with my decision. I merely felt some remorse for having been forced to abandon you to suffer Bartholomew’s company this evening.” 0 - “I believe remorse is an emotion one feels in one’s heart, my lord.” “Blast it, Nicole, I told you my heart was not involved in the decision!” She folded her arms and clutched her waist with her cold hands. “You need not snap, sir. I cannot help it if I felt flattered you would act on such an impulse. Now that you have convinced me it had nothing to do with your feelings, perhaps this meeting should end. I am tired.” Blake brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face with the back of his fingers. “I have hurt your feelings.” “It is a failing of mine to be swept away by my emotions. I do not expect someone of your supreme self control to understand.” His expression turned wistful. “Such honesty. Whatever am I to do with you, Nicole? I could resist you if you were deceitful, pretending to be something you are not, but there is no pretense about you. You forge straight ahead, giving me no time to launch my defenses.” Nicki looked away, confused by his words. “Whyever should you wish to defend yourself against me, my lord? I am no threat to you.” A harsh bark of laughter startled her and she slipped backward. Once again, Blake quickly captured her elbow, holding fast until she steadied her perch. “You are perhaps the greatest danger I have faced in my life—more so because you do not realize the extent of your power.” “It is very late and I am in no frame of mind to untangle riddles that make no sense. I assume you had   0 a reason for this visit.” The earl lifted her hand and turned it over, staring intently at her palm. Nicki squirmed uncomfortably. Her fingers were cold and the tips puckered from the icy water she had used in the stables. She had the oddest desire to jerk her hand away before he could notice. With calculated slowness, Blake lifted her palm to his lips. Nicki gasped at the sensations that spiraled upward from the place his lips touched. She had the insane urge to slip her fingers into his thick dark hair, to draw him near. Chills that moved like a cool breeze across her skin returned some semblance of sanity to her crazed emotions and gave her the will to attempt to pull her hand away. Blake held her fast, raising his head slightly to look at her. “My reason for this visit? Something so simple, you see. Just to touch you, to see you, nothing more.” Mesmerized by his mouth still poised over her hand, Nicki managed to force her voice from her throat, low and breathless. “I suppose there is no harm in that.” He folded her fingers into her palm gently, his touch more tender than she could have imagined possible from such a powerful man. As though by magic, he slipped close and cupped the base of Nicki’s jaw in his hand. Her gaze clung to his, and without meaning to, she moved her thighs together thus framing his hips intimately. A liquid heat flowed in her veins where she could have sworn she once had blood. Magic. Tenderly, he turned her face up to his and brushed her lips lightly with his mouth. “I shall come by around nine o’clock on the morrow.” She nodded without hesitation even as she closed 0 - her eyes and tipped her face up for his kiss. But the earl’s mouth slipped like velvet stone along her cheekbone until his breath teased her ear. “Perhaps you would be so generous as to share the company of your Calypso with me?” At first the sound of the words were mere sensations. A delicious, sensual reaction fluttered through her until her toes curled inside her leather shoes. Then the meaning sent a thrill of pleasure singing into her heart before Nicki could attempt to stifle the foolishness. Embarrassed at her wanton behavior, she drew back and banged the back of her head on the glass. “I would love to show you to her—or her to you, I mean—of course.” The enigmatic smile returned and Blake backed a slight distance. “I leave you then, hopefully with pleasant dreams.” With her hand still clenched, Nicki nodded. She hastily swung her legs around so she could slip inside. When she turned back to the window, Blake was gone. She reached up to snap the window closed. “Why must he be so deucedly charming? How can I resist him when he behaves so—so irresistibly?”   
 Chapter 11
 “You did not exaggerate, my dear. She’s extraordinary.” Nicki, her heart swelling with pride at the earl’s obvious admiration, attempted to maintain some semblance of clarity. “I’ve spent years studying various breeds. We had an average stable, with a few truly fine Thoroughbreds. Then my father met an elderly man in the neighboring county and introduced me to him. He had a mare he claimed was a descendant of one of the three champion Arabs Queen Anne had imported into the country.” “Which of the three? Byerly Turk, Godolphin Barb, or Darley Arabian?” Blake’s knowledge surprised Nicki, though she supposed nothing about him should have. “I was able to trace Winter Eclipse back to one of the descendants of those stallions, Eclipse. I was extremely excited about that discovery. Though her bloodlines were not pure, she was a spectacular animal in her own right. Papa tried to buy her, but Lord Charles would not sell. Several months later the old lord died and left Winter to us in his will.” She flushed, realizing she had been rambling.  - “Aphrodite is her second filly. I wanted a woman’s horse, spirited, yet not as large as a standard Thoroughbred. Calypso is the first attempt at breeding one of our Thoroughbreds to an Arab stallion we purchased last year. I hope we will have as much success with her as the others. The demand over the past year exceeds the number of horses we can provide. If we can open a market directed at female riders, our sales should double.” Though separated by the split stall door, Aphrodite pressed her silken nose forcefully against Blake’s chest, drawing his attention from the long-legged filly across the stall. He rewarded her with sugar retrieved conveniently from a handkerchief pulled out of his jacket pocket. “I see the reason for your fame. These are some of the finest horses I have ever seen.” “You have made a friend for life. She has a taste for sweets.” “After the night she spent, she deserves a treat.” Nicki stroked the mare’s long white neck. “She certainly does.” Blake stepped away from Aphrodite’s stall to saunter along the row of other cubicles, now mostly empty with the horses allowed to run loose in the fields. He paused next to Hera’s stall to offer sugar. Hera leaned over her stall door expectantly. “Wait!” Wincing, Nicki rushed forward to save the earl from a nasty bite. She stopped mid-stride as Hera nuzzled the sweet from Blake’s hand with delicate care. He dusted off his hands and replaced the handkerchief before stroking the white diamond on Hera’s dark chestnut head. The mare snorted in pleasure.    Catching sight of Nicki’s expression, Blake arched a dark brow. “Have I grown a tail, Nicole?” “I… I have never seen Hera behave so—pleasantly. She has been the most disagreeable animal from the moment of her birth. Papa and I dared not attempt to sell her. We hoped she would join the breeding stock, but she has managed to terrorize the stallions into avoiding her.” Blake leaned back to stare into the deceptively mild gaze of the horse. “She certainly seems affable now.” Nicki eyed Hera suspiciously. “She certainly does. If she would only show Achilles such courtesy, she might begin to earn her keep. To this point she has been quite worthless.” “Speaking of worthless,” Blake interjected, “where is your precious Teddy?” Nicki started to speak but was interrupted. “Precious Teddy…” Bartholomew spoke from near the door, then walked forward. Nicki spun to face him, her heart pounding. “… waited for the past half hour to partake of breakfast with Nicki, and was then informed she had left the house with the Earl of Diamond. Whatever are the two of you doing out here at this ungodly hour?” Tension sent taut white lines to the corners of Blake’s wide mouth. “Nicole generously offered to show me the new foal.” Teddy, in his lime colored suit and green, white, and black striped cravat, seemed out of place standing beside Blake dressed in shades of grey. Teddy craned to see into Hera’s stall. “So—you have not given up your infatuation with the horses. I thought you might  - have outgrown that penchant—perhaps to follow more feminine pursuits.” “But—” “I believe it would be a damned shame if a talent such as Nicole’s went to waste on needlepoint, Bartholomew.” Blake’s voice cut through Nicki’s reply. “Teddy meant no disrespect, Blake—did you, Teddy?” Nicki clutched the earl’s sleeve, anxious to avert a situation that had the symptoms of escalating into an all-out brawl. For a long moment, Teddy’s topaz eyes stared coldly at Blake. The scathing glance softened as it transferred to Nicki. “You know I approve of whatever you might choose to do.” The earl’s arm stiffened beneath Nicki’s grip, but his voice remained deceptively soft. “I would not go so far as all that.” A thunderous crash sounded from beside them. The door to Hera’s stall flew open, slammed back against the wall, and the horse plunged through the opening. Nicki froze in stunned surprise as Hera charged full speed toward Teddy, who spun about and ran toward the large door leading to the courtyard. The horse chased Teddy, and Blake rushed after the both of them. Like a statue, Nicki stood rooted to the planked floor. She could only watch in horror as Hera stretched out her long, graceful neck to nip at Teddy’s coattails. With a horrendous screech, and in a feat of inhuman effort, Teddy leaped into the air and landed on the middle rung of the ladder leading to the loft. Like a great, green spider he scrambled up the remaining slats and hoisted himself onto the upper floor of the stables.    Hera snorted and pawed the ground. A scrap of chartreuse fabric hung from her teeth like a prize of war. Nicki watched Blake ease up next to the mare, murmuring softly, and though Hera trembled at his touch, she made no move to continue her attack. Now seemingly docile, she waited for Blake to retrieve a halter and slip it over her head, even going so far as to relinquish the piece of Teddy’s coattail. Blake’s gaze shot to Nicki. “Where shall I take her?” Nicki made a motion toward the double doors behind her. Where had her voice gone? As Blake passed by her leading Hera, she looked up to where Teddy perched on the hayloft. Cheeks mottled white and red, his amber eyes shone over-brightly. He was the picture of injured dignity. Shaking off the stunned amazement that had held her paralyzed while her horse attacked her best friend, Nicki hurried to stand next to the ladder. “She is gone now. Please come down.” “I will not. That animal must be destroyed at once!” Alarmed, Nicki cried out. “She meant no harm, Teddy! It must have been the color of your suit that set her off. She might have mistook you for a patch of grass.” Teddy’s eyes filled with impotent fury. “I don’t care what caused such an exhibition, but I cannot believe for one moment you’d allow such a dangerous animal free reign of the place! All of you are in mortal danger.” Bits of straw rained down from the loft as Teddy gestured wildly. “Think of Shelby, and Mina.” Irritation wormed its way to the forefront of her thoughts. “Shelby and Mina have had no problem with  - Hera, or with any of the other horses. I honestly believe your style of dress enraged her.” At Nicki’s sharp retort, Teddy gained a level of calm. “Do you mean to say that a horse took offense to my clothing?” “She has never behaved so violently toward a human before.” Teddy scooted to the edge of the floor and allowed his legs to dangle before he reached out to grab a rope used to hoist hay and barrels of fodder up to and down from the loft. With admirable ease he swung to the floor, proof that his agility of moments ago had not been triggered by the imminent threat of danger. “I had no idea horses were so discriminating in the country,” he said acidly. Nicki gave a sheepish grin. “Not discriminating, just aggressively hungry.” He appeared to relax slightly, though angry color still stained his cheeks. “I suppose I might not have been so offended if I had not behaved like a complete muttonhead.” Blake joined them and Nicki noted with surprised admiration that he had not broken a sweat, or damaged his appearance in the least. He impaled Teddy with his gaze. “Are you injured?” “Just a bit ruffled,” said Teddy, still bristling. Nicki touched Blake’s arm. “Did Hera settle down?” As he glanced down at her hand on his arm, Blake’s jaw seemed to tighten for just an instant before he met her gaze. “The moment I released her she charged after a handsome bay. Luckily, he was on the other side of the fence.” “Poor Achilles. I had hoped she would win him    over with charm, but she seems intent on bullying him.” An expression of moderate distaste crossed Blake’s face and he returned his attention to Teddy. “What is that odor?” Teddy flushed crimson, and Nicki noticed a smell similar to that of damp hay after it has lain in the fields. “I believe it is my cologne.” “Are you sure? Perhaps you rolled in some old hay in the loft.” Nicki provided in an attempt to help. “This is the first time I’ve worn a cologne I purchased in America. It’s called ‘Essence of Spring’.” The corners of Blake’s mouth twitched. “Perhaps that is what excited the mare.” “Thank you both for your helpful conclusions. Nicki believes the animal took offense to my suit and you have determined it is my smell.” A giggle erupted before Nicki could stifle it. Blake and Teddy looked at her in surprise, then at each other. The more she tried not to think about Teddy fleeing through the stables, the more clearly became the vision in her mind. Blake shook his head and chuckled. Nicki could hold back no longer. Teddy finally snickered, somewhat forced at first, then he relaxed and the sound deepened. Tears of mirth streamed down Nicki’s cheeks. “I am sorry, Teddy, but you must admit it was funny. Did the merchant who sold you the cologne warn you of the side effects?” His eyes warmed her like the sun. “He said it was irresistible.” “But did he tell you it would inspire a horse to demolish its stall to get to you?” Blake obviously  - attempted to gain his normal calm, but his voice trembled with suppressed laughter. Teddy stiffened in response to Blake’s amusement, but looked at Nicki and smiled broadly. “He failed to inform me of that small detail.” The sound of carriage wheels on the cobbled stones of the courtyard outside drew Nicki’s attention, and she left Blake and Teddy to go to the outer door. Andrew met her at the entrance, his weathered face a mask of stunned alarm. Over his shoulder Nicki saw not one vehicle, but dozens. “Who on earth are all these people, Andrew?” He glanced back, looking as though the Hounds of Hell had just appeared at his back. “I dunno, m’lady, but they’ll be needin’ some ‘elp wit’ the coaches. I was after me sons.” “Do what you must. I shall investigate.” Blake’s voice sounded at her ear. “It seems you have company,” he surmised in dry tones. With what she hoped was a withering glance, Nicki left the security of the stables. The jingle of harnesses, the snorting of over-excited horses, and the shouting of groomsmen echoed through the courtyard. Nicki approached the nearest vehicle, a glossy black coach with a coat of arms emblazoned in gold on the side. The door swung wide, forcing Nicki to halt abruptly. “Aunt Josephine?” The woman departing the vehicle looked up in surprise and stumbled on the step. Though she recovered herself quickly, her bonnet slipped askew and a feather tipped dangerously close to her eye. “Good Heavens, is that you, Nicki?” “Yes, it is me, Aunt! How wonderful to see you.”    Josephine toppled again on the final step, and Nicki rushed forward to offer her shoulder. Her aunt leaned her rather generous girth across Nicki’s shoulders, nearly unbalancing them both. Just when Nicki felt her knees would give out, Josephine stood upright, straightened her bonnet and swept the feather aside. Her hand glistened with jewels in the meager sunlight. “Goodness, the last time I saw you, you were just a skinny little girl with a very red nose and eyes. Let me see, was it a cold?” “No, Aunt.” Nicki was distracted as she saw Andrew’s youngest son, six-year-old Georgie headed in her direction at an all out run. She quickly stepped back to allow him to pass before moving back to her aunt. “It was my mother’s funeral. Remember?” Josephine clucked her tongue, ignoring the interruption. “Of course. Such a tragedy, dear Marguerite. Time goes by so quickly, and now you are to be married.” “Buried? Who’s to be buried?” A voice rasped from the inner recesses of the coach, causing Nicki to back away in alarm. Josephine leaned her upper body back inside the coach. “I said married, Grampa! Look who’s come to greet us. This is Nicki, Jonathon’s oldest.” A scuffle ensued at this bit of information. Uncertain what she should do to help, Nicki stood hesitantly by. Blake made an opportune appearance. “Might I be of some assistance?” He attempted to see into the carriage. Josephine backed her upper body out of the coach, her bonnet dropping to its former precarious position just below her eyebrows. She craned her head to see who had addressed her. 0 - “Oh, why yes. It’s Grampa. He has some difficulty getting in and out of the coach, you see.” Blake stepped around Josephine and glanced inside. A bent old man crabbed into the doorway. Blake took his arm in a steadying grip. “Worthless contraption, if you ask me. Damned nuisance, rattling about the countryside. Give me a good horse any day. Who’s that there? I say, Josey, are we being robbed?” “No, Grampa Giles! This kind gentleman wishes to help you down!” The old man’s skeletal hand clenched around a cane, which he slammed back and forth against the doorframe, as though testing the width of the opening. Blake received a sharp smack on his right hand where it held on to the intricate gold trim lining the doorway. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place? I was just about to hide my purse. Damned highwaymen. Can’t travel the roads without bein’ set upon.” Taking his cue from Josephine, Blake raised his voice. “It might be best if I hold your cane, sir, just until you have exited the coach.” Nicki admired Blake’s patience as the old man refused to relinquish possession of his cane. The earl stoically maintained his grip on Grampa’s arm, though the cane struck him several times before the older man stood safely on the ground. Sharp brown eyes below jutting white eyebrows surveyed each person in turn, pausing to look Nicki over thoroughly. “I say, is it that Dalton girl?” “Grampa, you remember Nicki, my brother Jonathon’s eldest daughter? Hasn’t she grown into a beauty?”    The old man captured Nicki’s hand in his cold, claw-like grip. She had a vague recollection of seeing this man at her mother’s funeral. Of course, Aunt Josephine’s father-in-law. “Good day, sir. I hope your journey was pleasant.” The gaze remained focused sharply on her face, while his lips smacked together several times before words issued forth. “Pheasant? Don’t mind if I do. Josephine damn near starved me, she was in such a hurry to get here.” Blake leaned close to Nicki’s ear. “Are all your family members so colorful, my dear?” “Aunt Josey, Grampa Giles, may I present the Earl of Diamond, Blake Dylan.” Josephine offered her hand, simpering and batting stubby black lashes. “I might have known our Nicki would find a titled husband in the middle of the country. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, my lord.” Taking her fingers gallantly, Blake arched a dark brow as he bowed slightly. “The pleasure is all mine, my lady.” Nicki’s attention wandered to a group of people gathered near a carriage across the courtyard. Voices were raised in angry tones; hands gestured toward the carriage, which Nicki could see sat oddly askew. Andrew’s eldest, Tamm, struggled to release the horses from the traces. Nicki glanced over her shoulder, but Teddy had either chosen to remain in the stables or had managed to escape to the house. “I must admit I am confused, Aunt. How did you know I was to be wed?” “The invitation, silly girl.” “Invitation.” Nicki looked at Blake, who shrugged  - broad shoulders. She returned her attention to Aunt Josey. “Do you know who all these other people are?” Josephine peered over the backs of her own perfectly matched bays to the array of coaches and carriages. “I believe those two vehicles belong to your Uncle James and Uncle Julian. Oh, look, they’ve brought their families. That damaged carriage looks to be— why it’s your father’s best friend from school. James must have run into him. He’s never been adept with the laces.” “I realize you must be exhausted, Aunt, but would you mind terribly greeting them all and bringing them into the house? I shall inform Angelica of your arrival.” “Of course, dearling. You can depend on me.” Nicki nodded and with one last glance at the chaos, rushed toward the front of the house. She had just twisted the front door latch when Blake’s voice brought her up short. “Have you forgotten your handsome marital catch so quickly?” She turned to him, slightly irritated. “Did you have something to do with this?” He touched his chest in mock chagrin. “Me? I merely followed your father’s wishes by inviting his immediate family. I am as baffled as you are by the appearance of what appears to be all of London, my dear.” Nicki fought the waves of panic threatening to engulf her. She had thought to have time to convince Blake not to go through with the wedding, but how could she plead her case when guests were arriving in droves? “But who could have done such a thing?” Blake’s expression turned grim. “If you will excuse    me, Nicole, I believe I shall leave you to settle your guests. I have a strong suspicion that I may have a similar fiasco taking place at Rosewood.” “You know something. Tell me.” With a bow, he backed down the stairs. “All in good time, my dear.”  Blake surveyed Rosewood’s empty courtyard with relief. Perhaps Angelica or Jonathon had sent out additional letters, though he could not imagine them doing so when they knew Blake had forwarded their brief list to his aunt. The word ‘invitation’ gave him pause. It spoke of formality versus a simple letter requesting the presence of relatives. A wide-eyed boy darted from the stable entrance to slide to a halt near Blake and wait for him to dismount. After handing over the reins, he ruffled the lad’s mop of brown curls before heading around to the front of the house. His stomach could do with a bite to eat now that he was certain his own residence had not been set upon in his absence. He heard a low, incessant hum as he came up onto the porch. The sound increased when he opened the door. As Blake paused in the doorway, a sudden pain shot through his head. The noise came from the mouths of more than fifty people crowded into his foyer. There, turning this way and that like a cork adrift in a tumultuous sea, bobbed Chester, and just behind him a woman extricated herself from the midst to advance on Blake. He slammed the door and leaned back against the wood.  - “Darling nephew. I had hoped my letter would arrive before us, but apparently it did not.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Blake forced his temper under control. “Aunt Sophia. I had just decided you were not at the root of this scheme, and here you are to prove me wrong.” She fluttered her long sooty lashes, but the gesture did not soften her glacial grey eyes. “You have nothing to worry about, Blake. There was some confusion and the coach bearing the seamstresses and fabrics came here. I sent them on to the Langley residence with one of your stable lads.” “So you did follow one of my instructions.” His aunt slipped her fine boned hand into the crook of his arm and pulled him away from the door. “I knew you must have intended that I arrange the remainder of the details, since you had given me the task of procuring the finest dressmaker, as well as convincing that horrid man to issue a special license. This is just too romantic, Blake. Another Earl of Diamond making a love match! It was just too rich to keep quiet.” “I trusted you to try.” Sophia slanted him an amused glance. “Really, Blake, is it so upsetting to you that your family wished to be present upon such a joyous occasion?” He gave the faces of the crowd a cursory glance. “I do not recognize half these people, and certainly do not recall being related to them.” “But you have been out of the country for six long years. Harry! Harry, over here. Look, it is your cousin.” A tall slender man separated himself from several other brightly dressed gentlemen. Blake recognized    the petulant expression beneath those tight black curls instantly. No matter that the boy had become a man— that pout would remain ever unchanged. He met the hostile gaze squarely, aware that his own must appear equally wary. Harry held out his hand. “Blake. By God, you’ve changed. I thought Uncle Barrett had risen from the grave.” Taking his cousin’s hand, Blake was surprised to find the grip nearly harsh. “Harry. Full of compliments, as usual. Speaking of fathers, where is yours hiding?” Harry withdrew his hand abruptly. “Father had to stay behind in London. He’s got some business dealings going on and dared not leave at such a delicate point in the negotiations.” “Then I am certain I shall see him before long, hand outstretched.” Sophia interjected herself physically between the two men. “Really, Blake, you not only look like Barrett, but you’ve adopted his cruelty. I had hoped such unkindness behind me with my brother’s passing.” Blake glanced down into his aunt’s upturned face, and saw a pleading in her eyes. He sighed. “I apologize to you both. My comment was uncalled for. Perhaps I am merely overset by the appearance of unexpected guests.” She looked away in apparent distraction. “Your butler—Chester is it?—is an absolute gem. He has assigned rooms and dispatched luggage with amazing efficiency.” “Chester is the one thing in Rosewood I have not been disappointed in.” Sophia’s glance centered on a woman standing just  - outside the room. “Ah, that must be the cook. Excuse me while I meet with her regarding the meals. I brought Jacques and several undercooks because I had a feeling you had not brought your own staff with you. Harry, introduce Blake to your wife… and your friends. Shall we meet in your library at two o’clock, nephew, to discuss the entertainment?” “Entertainment? Of course, Sophia. I look forward to learning about all your plans.” With an absent smile, she was off, the crowd parting before her elegant figure like waves split by a ship’s hull. Blake returned his attention to his cousin. The pout had returned, and he realized he preferred open hostility to this sulking overgrown boy. Harry caught his look and straightened proudly. “I know what you think of me and my family. I’ll introduce you to my wife, but I won’t have her feelings hurt. She’s not used to your kind. There’s not a mean bone in her body.” So his cousin thought he would frighten his prim and proper little wife? Blake nodded brusquely, experiencing an unfamiliar twinge of guilt that he had given such a poor impression. “Contrary to your beliefs, I can be quite charming when it suits me.” “Yes, well, so can a cobra, but I’d just as soon not snuggle up next to one.” “Blake Dylan! Or should I say, Lord Diamond?” With a quick turn, Blake met a set of beguiling brown eyes. “Jane. What on earth possessed you to come to the country?” The stately brunette linked her arm through Harry’s. “I am married to your cousin, you scoundrel, and family events are more important than the same old    social happenings. Besides, you know very well London is quiet until March when Parliament convenes.” “How could I forget, dear Jane. When did you and Harry wed?” She glanced at his cousin, her face nearly level with Harry’s. The softness that entered her features surprised Blake, for he had known Jane Olson to be a shameless flirt, never showing a preference for any one man. Apparently that had changed. “We were married four years ago. I never imagined marriage could be so wonderful. Love can change your entire life, but I don’t have to tell you that. I am so happy for you, and I cannot wait to meet the girl who brings Blake Dylan to the altar.” Thinking of Nicole’s bright gaze, Blake smiled. “She is an Original, Jane. The two of you should get on very well.” “I beg your pardon, sir, but might I interrupt you for a moment?” Chester bowed toward Harry and Jane, his color unusually high. Harry tucked his wife’s hand more firmly in the crook of his arm. “We’ll talk further after Jane has had a chance to rest, Blake.” The couple climbed the ornate staircase, their heads close together in conversation. The sight made him think about Nicole. The top of her head barely reached Blake’s shoulder, forcing him to bend to reach her level. Somehow, the thought did not seem so unpleasant. He turned to the butler. “What is it, Chester?” The Butler’s stance had relaxed slightly from its usual rigidity, revealing his weariness. “It seems there are two gentlemen left over after the rooms have been  - distributed, and they insist they will not share quarters with anyone. The other guests have retired to their rooms. I… I apologize, my lord, that I failed in this regard.” Blake glanced over Chester’s shoulder to two men leaning negligently against the carved balustrade of the grand staircase. He studied them for a brief moment, then with a grin stepped around the butler. “I can take care of these two scalawags. I think we have room in the stables.” Laughing, the pair pushed themselves from the support and advanced on their host. Curls the color of gold-streaked honey were skillfully arranged in the windswept style made popular by Napoleon. Laughing sets of hazel eyes—it was like looking at a double image. “Carlton, Percy, where in God’s name did Aunt Sophia dredge up the two of you?” The three clasped hands in turn. Carlton, ever the spokesman for the twins, clapped Blake on the shoulder. “She found us at a small soiree. We’ve become deucedly respectable, y’know. As the pickings were slim in town, we agreed to accompany Lady Ransom to what promises to be a very entertaining wedding.” “Still hunting wives? I would have thought by being so respectable you would have found someone suitable by now.” “It’s damned difficult finding two women enough alike to suit the pair of us,” Percy offered. Blake shook his head in disbelief. “Did it ever occur to either of you that one can marry without the other’s approval? It seems we have much to discuss. Perhaps you will not feel slighted if you are invited to share the host’s sleeping chambers?”    “Wouldn’t want to crowd you, being a bridegroom and all,” Carl’s grin disputed his apparent concern. An almost irresistible urge to shove Carlton, as he had done when they were younger, came over Blake before he regained stiff control. They were now men full grown. “I shall have two cots set up. Follow me. You can rest on my bed until Chester is able to make the arrangements. Damn, it’s good to see the two of you again. Perhaps I will not wring my aunt’s neck after all.” As Blake motioned his friends upstairs and followed, he mentally made plans to immediately visit the stables. While watching Nicole this morning with her horses—the glow of pride shining in her eyes—he had come to a decision. He would have the dilapidated stables of Rosewood remodeled to the specifications of those at Langley Hall as a wedding gift for his bride. They reached the landing and Blake smiled at some comment Percy made. He lead the way to his bedchamber as his thoughts returned to enact the scene certain to occur when he surprised Nicole with her very own stables. It pleased him to imagine he could make her happy. But that would not be for a few more weeks, and he had a great deal to do if the work was to be completed in time. First, he would dispatch the head groomsman to Langley Hall to get an idea of the design. He opened the door to his bedchamber, holding it wide for the twins to enter. Then he reached into the pocket of his jacket and removed his watch to consult the time. Of course! The groom could say he had been sent to locate the earl’s lost watch. 0 - “If you two will excuse me, I have some business to attend to.” Percy paused just inside the door and surveyed the room with cool disdain. Following his gaze, Blake noticed threadbare carpet, cracks in the plaster, peeling paint—details he had not been concerned with before. With a shrug, Percy went to the bed and spread himself out atop the faded emerald coverlet. “You attend to your business. We must get our beauty sleep before the ball tonight.” “Ball?” Blake remembered nothing about a ball, but then he had not been made privy to Sophia’s plans as yet. “Yes, the ball. Your aunt brought along a small assemblage of wonderful musicians and sent them on to Langley Hall—for the ball.” Blake shook his head in awed admiration of Sophia’s efficiency—at causing trouble. “The Duchess of Billington certainly has her work cut out for her. I only hope I can find my intended amongst the crush.” Carlton joined his brother on the huge bed. “If you cannot—we’ll take good care of her.” Stepping back to the doorway, Blake cast a threatening glance. “You do recall I am an excellent shot?” The elder twin maintained a somber mien, though his dark eyes sparkled with deviltry. “And you are skilled at fencing, boxing, and street brawling. I merely meant we would do everything possible to speed the girl on her way to you.” “That is what I thought you meant. Rest well, gentlemen.” Blake stepped into the hall and closed the door.    He paused, listening to the drone of voices. The house might have been invaded by swarms of bees— large bees thumping about like a brigade of warhorses. Blake recalled Nicole’s panic-stricken face as she rushed to inform her stepmother of the arrival of guests. He hoped she fared well. The thought that she might get into trouble because he had foolishly trusted his aunt did not set well. He would have protected Nicole from a den of wolves, if necessary, but he sensed Angelica could be much more dangerous.  – 
Chapter 12
 After announcing to Angelica the arrival of what appeared to be half the town of London, Nicki played the coward and retired to her room where she huddled in her cloak before the window. Blake said her father had provided him with a list, but Nicki knew by Angelica’s stunned expression that her stepmother had nothing to do with arranging for the deluge of wedding guests. The answers obviously lay with the Earl of Diamond, and prying information from him was like avoiding a blackmail from Shelby. If she listened carefully, she could hear the commotion in the downstairs foyer—a scene so similar to her mother’s funeral, yet with an ambiance of joy rather than mourning. If only she shared the enthusiasm. After all, it was her wedding. Nicki leaned against the window frame and touched her fingers to the cold glass. How would the guests react if they learned she had brought about her own engagement by a foolish action no responsible, respectable young woman would have dared? Not even Teddy knew the truth. It hurt to keep anything from him when she never had in the past, but this she must.    Somewhere below her window, Nicki heard the excited neighing of a horse and recalled the fiasco in the barn earlier. Obviously, Teddy must have still been over-taxed from his journey or he would never have been so sour when the whole incident had actually been quite amusing. She smiled. And that rogue, Blake Dylan. He had certainly not helped matters by goading Nicki into laughing at Teddy. Still, if she were honest with herself, she would admit that if Blake would let go of his reserve more often, she could easily fall under his spell. She only hoped he did not discern that fact. He was much too difficult to resist as it was. Who did she think she was fooling? From the moment he first touched her, she had been like a fly firmly trapped in the spider’s silken web. Nicki clutched at the maroon velvet of her riding skirt, wondering how she had come to such a pass. Her mind had simply become clouded by the earl’s charm. The branches of the tree outside bent and swayed slightly in the wind. What she needed was a quick ride over the fields with that same wind in her face, so the crispness of the air could chase away the clouds of confusion fogging her common sense. Yes. Most certainly a horseback ride. The decision made, Nicki raised the window and slipped out. Moments later, and thankfully unnoticed, she entered the stables to find Tamm brushing down a long-legged chestnut gelding. Tamm nodded a silent greeting. “I have decided to take a quick ride, Tamm. Would you saddle Achilles for me?”  - Tamm set the grooming brush aside on a nearby shelf. “Achilles be in a temper on account o’ Hera, m’lady, an’ all the strange ‘orses arrivin’. Zeus, though, ‘e’s been an angel.” Nicki sidestepped around the chestnut, careful not to get close to its back feet since she did not know the horse or its temperament. “Zeus will be fine.” As the young man hurried away to find and saddle the stallion, Nicki retrieved a spare set of riding gloves from over the wash stand. She pulled the supple leather over her fingers, then realized she had left the house without a bonnet. That meant she would most certainly have to avoid being seen by the guests upon her return. From the opposite end of the stables she heard the sound of one of the outer stall doors creaking open. Nicki hurried down the long aisle to the last opening on the right. She paused at the half door of Zeus’s cubicle and watched as Tamm settled the saddle into place over a dark blanket, then tightened the cinches. “Thank you, Tamm,” she said as she flipped the latch and stepped into the stall with a whisper of her velvet skirts against the fresh straw. Tamm stroked Zeus’s sleek black neck, and Nicki was startled to see the boy’s cheeks turn as red as ripe strawberries. “You’ll be needin’ a groom to ride with ye, then?” That brought her up short. “Whatever for, when we’ve all these extra animals to tend to?” His mouth tightened. “There’s lots of strangers…” “Who are mostly family. Besides, they are in the house.” Nicki went to the corner of the cubicle and picked up a step stool, which she carried over to place    beneath the stirrup. She met Tamm’s gaze squarely, and held out her hand for him to take while she climbed the ladder and mounted. He looked up at her, concern etched into his features. “Be careful, m’lady. It’ll be dark soon, an’ a storm’s brewin’.” “I will be back before you know it.” Nicki settled her skirts, positioned her right leg securely over the horn, then pressed her heels into Zeus’ side and turned him to leave through the doorframe that led to the field outside. For a short time she held the horse to a walk, keeping parallel to the fence line that separated the mares from the stallions. When Hera made an appearance, Nicki stopped to pet her over the fence rather than risk the mare chasing after them in irritation. Soon Hera had her fill and trotted back in the direction of the stables. Grey skies glowered down but held the rain firmly in check. Across the soggy fields Zeus cantered, the goal being a stand of trees in the distance. A flock of winter birds fluttered into flight only a stride ahead of them. Experiencing a twinge of envy, she leaned low over Zeus’ powerful neck. With a single command and the slightest pressure of her heels he surged forward. The wind struck her face with stinging fingers of ice, causing her eyes to tear. But for an instant she felt as though she could join those birds in the sky to fly away from the tangled snarl she had made of her life and cling to the freedom of the open skies. Zeus’ great strides ate up distance quickly. In moments the trees of the small wood loomed near. Instead of slowing the horse to enter the woods, Nicki  - turned him to run along the forest edge. The feel of the powerful animal, the thud of his hooves against the ground, and the sweet winter breeze in her face—it was just what she had needed. Before she knew it, Nicki passed close to Rosewood, but she refused to spare a glance for the brooding structure and outbuildings. She had come out to forget the earl. So she urged Zeus on, across the rolling fields, leaping low stone fences and narrow creeks. The hem of her skirts became soaked and spattered with mud, but Nicki’s exhilaration could not be dampened. She would go to her secret place—the castle that had listened to her dreams from childhood. There she would find the answers she sought— without the presence of the Earl of Diamond to distract her.  Blake left the dark Rosewood stables satisfied he had sufficiently relayed his plans to the young stable hand. Owen Carson had his hands full with a stable of new workers and more vehicles and animals than Rosewood had room for. But he agreed to send a lad on Blake’s errand at once. Blake glanced up at the clouds growing heavy with pent up rain. The thought of returning to the house did not appeal to him. There were too many people there. From the corner of his eye, Blake saw movement. When he turned his head he saw a flash of color so far away he could scarcely make out the shape of a horse and rider dashing recklessly across the low green grass    of the meadow. He tensed, and squinted his eyes. The garment the rider wore appeared to be the same shade of riding dress Nicole was wearing earlier. Surely she would not be charging about the countryside so soon after the arrival of guests. Of course she would. Already the pair slipped over the rise out of sight, headed north. Blake turned on his heel and strode back into the stables, not pausing to consider the wisdom of his actions. All he could think of, all he desired at this moment was over the hill. The men and boys taking care of the animals paid him no mind as he moved down the rows of stalls separated by slatted boards, not solid walls like the Langley stables. He paused before Banbury’s enclosure, then changed his mind. Nicole most likely had taken one of those stallions of hers, so he continued down the row and came to a dapple grey gelding he had brought from his father’s London stables. At this end of the barn, away from the busy activity, the horses had more peace and quiet. Tarnish, obviously so dubbed because of the patches of black on his muzzle and legs, whickered softly in greeting as Blake entered the pen and grabbed his halter. Blake returned to the tack room with Tarnish in tow. He heard Banbury stomping and pawing at the straw laden dirt floor but he had no time to sooth hurt feelings. He meant to catch up to Nicole, and she already had a good head start. It took only a moment to replace the halter with a bridle and saddle the horse. Blake led Tarnish into the  - corral, mounted and turned north after the mysterious rider. Leaning forward slightly, Blake balanced himself against the jarring as the horse’s hooves pummeled the ground. What if he chased not Nicole but one of his neighbors he had not yet met? He would certainly look the fool charging after them without hat, cloak, or gloves. But he had already surrendered to the fact that his behavior took an odd turn where Nicole was concerned. As the horse topped the rise, Blake quickly scanned the expanse of countryside from the wooded area to the left, then back again toward the first of a series of hills. He saw her at the foot of the next rise. Not too far. He urged Tarnish on and the horse gladly complied, true to his Thoroughbred heritage. Any doubt he may have had as to the identity of the rider disappeared long before Blake drew near enough to get a good look. Only Nicole Langley would give herself up to the wild exhilaration of such a reckless dash across damp fields. He gained ground on her until he could see the gilded brightness of her hair escaping its pins to cascade down her back to reach her trim waist. That hair belonged down and spilling about her—about him when he swept her into his arms. Their mounts were finally within yards of one another. Though Blake knew she could not have heard his approach, Nicole looked back. For the briefest instant her eyes widened as though in fear. Once again Blake experienced a tightening in his chest—he had no desire for her fright. His body craved a more friendly emotion. Quickly, she faced forward again, and did not slow her horse.    He brought Tarnish abreast of the black stallion, and waited for Nicole to acknowledge his presence. She continued to stare ahead. Blake thought with amazement that she intended to ignore him, as though he would go away. Then she flashed a green-eyed glare in his direction. “Are you spying on me?” She shouted over the thundering hoof beats and the cry of the wind. He grinned, and raised his voice. “A novel idea, but rather too easy since you continuously show up wherever I am.” With a swift movement, Nicole drew back on the reins and brought her horse to a skidding halt. Blake had to react just as swiftly. He backed his horse up to hers. “I most certainly do not follow you about!” “You passed by Rosewood only moments ago. I am certain you signaled to me.” Cheeks flaming, she slashed him once again with those incredible eyes of hers. “I came out here to be alone. And how could I have signaled to you from more than a mile away?” Blake looked at the way ahead for a moment, enjoying her irritation immensely. She was a beauty at any time, but no more than when her temper blazed. “Perhaps your horse merely swished his tail.” Beneath Blake, Tarnish stomped and moved nervously, his sides heaving, and mist puffing from his nostrils. Blake looked at Nicole. “My mistake.” “Do you mean to say you cannot tell my movements from those of my horse? I believe I shall do myself in at once if that is the case!” Blake laughed. “I did not mean to put you in a rage, 0 - Nicole.” He glanced at a pile of large stones about a half-mile ahead. “Race me to that rubble. If you win, I shall go away and leave you to yourself.” She nibbled at her lower lip, staring at the rocks, suspicious. “And if you win?” With a shout to Tarnish, Blake dug in his heels and slapped the reins against the gelding’s flank. The horse lunged forward. Blake intended to win this race. The prize would entertain them both immensely. But perhaps she would scorn his challenge. She wanted to be rid of him after all. A sudden heat burned upward from his neck to his face at the mental picture of himself riding away from Nicole while she went just as swiftly in the opposite direction. He glanced back. There she was, right behind him, and closing fast. With a slight smile, Blake turned and leaned his upper body further over Tarnish’s neck, still seeing Nicole’s brows drawn together in determination, her lips parted. It was almost as though she whispered sweet words of encouragement to her mount. She sat a horse side saddle with more confidence and control than many men could sit astride. From the corner of his eye he saw the muzzle of the stallion. Nicole meant to defeat him. To be rid of him. But she would soon realize he did not like losing —had made it his goal in life over the past six years to be the victor. At any cost. The finish line lay only twenty paces ahead. In a maneuver planned to surprise Nicole, Blake tugged the rein gently against the left side of Tarnish’s neck, forcing the horse to move toward the stallion. At the same time he dug in his heels. The shoulder of the black stallion bumped into    Blake’s leg, then the horse shied away. And slowed. Tarnish’s powerful legs drove into the ground, covering the last stretch with lightning speed until Blake pulled back on the reins and the gelding skidded to a halt before the pile of stones. Blake turned to face Nicole’s equally sudden stop. “You cheated!” She snapped before the stallion had regained steady footing. Blake proudly noted again the ease with which she retained her seat, even as the horse pranced and reared slightly in nervous excitement. He arched a brow. “Whatever do you mean, my dear?” Obviously disgusted, eyes flashing with suppressed ire, Nicole lifted her leg over the saddle horn and leapt gracefully to the ground. “You rammed my horse, and you bloody well know it!” “I bloody well never touched your horse,” he said calmly as he dismounted and came to stand before her. “Let me see your leg. I am certain there must be black hairs on your trousers.” He could not resist laughing, which further enraged Nicole. “Shall I shuck them first, or would you prefer I merely lift my leg for your review?” In an effort to appear haughty, Nicole lifted her chin. “Neither. I simply shall not concede you are the victor.” With that speech, she lifted her skirts and brushed past him. He smiled as he followed her progress with an appreciative eye. She stepped delicately over chunks of debris that littered the ground along the base of giant, moss-covered stones, until she finally turned to her right and disappeared from sight. Blake glanced back to the black stallion nibbling  - on tufts of tender green grass. Apparently Nicole held no concern the horse would wander off as she had left the reins dangling, but Blake retrieved and tied the ends to a rusted bar protruding from the crumbling wall. He led Tarnish five paces further down the structure where the stacked stones began to curve and looped his reins over a second bar before tracing Nicole’s steps. A bird screeched a warning as Blake came to an opening in the edifice. Bracing his hand on the rotting wood of the doorframe, he glanced about inside of what appeared to be the ruins of an ancient tower. The disgruntled bird took flight with a noisy pumping of its wings. Blake could hear its complaints fade as he stepped over the threshold. “Nicole?” No response. That prompted him to move further inside. Slowly, Blake turned as his gaze scanned the monstrous squares of granite that still formed a circular enclosure, though a somewhat lopsided one. Part of the structure had fallen outward, but some of the walls leaned inward, creating dark shadows along their base. He stepped closer to the center where the light trickled down from the sky unhindered. The wooden ceiling had long since decayed away. His boots sank into the spongy ground in places, and slipped on pieces of wood and stone in others. The wall ahead of him stood at least fifteen feet high with a narrow arched window half the way up. “Welcome to Winterhaven.” Blake spun toward the sound of the whispered words. “Nicole?” Like a specter, she materialized from the gloom.    “Who did you think? The lady of the castle?” “Castle, is it? I had first thought it merely a pile of rocks. Now I see it must have been a medieval stronghold.” She moved toward him, her steps sure and confident. Blake knew at once she had been here many times. “Winterhaven dates back to the Crusades, I believe. Once I went through some old journals in my father’s library and found a mention of this place. It was built by my ancestor, Jasper Langley, to keep his family safe whilst he fought at the side of King Richard in the Holy Land.” She paused and absently twisted her fingers into the velvet of her skirt. “When he returned, his wife had been forced to turn over part of the land to the sheriff for taxes. Winterhaven stood on that land, but she and her children were allowed to stay for payment of rent, which was more and more land. Winterhaven now belongs to you, my lord.” “I am not the evil sheriff.” Nicole stepped closer and tipped her head back to look into his face. A tiny smile graced her lips. “Then you must be the warrior returning from battle, bone weary and disillusioned.” He shrugged. “I ask only for my reward, fair lady.” She shook her head. “You are nothing if not persistent. Very well, what reward do you seek?” “A simple action on your part.” Blake took a step, and Nicole retreated. “A small prize indeed for a victorious soldier.” The grin left her face and she continued to back away from him. Into the shadows they went, advancing, retreating, until Nicole backed up against the stone wall. He placed his hands against the rock at either  - side of her head, encasing her within the bands of his arms. Did she think of her precious Teddy now? A long sliver of weak light came from the arched window at his back and slanted across her face. Beautiful, ethereal. Before this day was finished, she would think only of him. “Have your words been stolen from you, maiden?” His voice sounded gruff in the sudden quiet. Her gaze searched his face, confused. “Indeed they have. By a man I do not know. Is this the Earl of Diamond or a kinder, gentler man masquerading as the earl?” Slowly, Blake bent his arms. He leaned closer to her. “There are many facets to a Diamond, my lady. Have you not realized that by now?” She stared at his mouth. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. A wrenching grabbed his insides. Blake could wait no longer. Without warning he brought his mouth down on hers. Sweet. Like sipping pure nectar. He drank and drank. Blake had known many women, some experienced, some not. But this one. This one could be the end of him. But he could not stop his feelings for her. Finally, he drew back. Nicole’s eyes remained closed, her mouth slightly open. His starving gaze devoured every feature. He watched the frantic pulse at her neck, her breasts pressing against the fabric of her gown as she breathed. And he saw her hands clenched into small fists at her sides. She would be his. With a groan, Blake kissed her again. He forced    her mouth to open beneath his. Perhaps he wanted her to be afraid. If she pushed him away, he would not force her to accept his attentions. And he could regain some balance, some control. But Nicole’s lips parted. Her palms flattened against his chest, then slipped upward to his shoulders. That gentle touch consumed him in a heat like none he had ever known. She moved her body against his. He had not yet touched her with his hands, keeping her enclosed within the bands of his arms. Slowly, he wrapped one arm about her slender waist, jamming his fingers into the mass of silky hair at her neck to cup the back of her head with his other. Her body fit against his perfectly, melding with him so closely he knew she must feel his arousal. He deepened their kiss, thrusting his tongue lightly into her mouth, then withdrawing it. Again. She stiffened. Blake thought she would pull away. Nicole drew back, though he continued to hold her body against his, to rest his hand against the fragile column of her neck. With eyes shining, she searched his face, then touched her fingers to his mouth. “Is this your reward, then, to prove the depth of my weakness?” “My reward is the gift of your kiss freely given.” He kissed the tip of her nose. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “It is an easy gift, my lord. I only wish…” Blake experienced a sharp twisting of his heart. She had not said the words, but he knew what she wanted. Something he would never give–could never give. Love. “Do you know how lovely you are?”  - Disappointment entered her gaze, then just as quickly went away. Nicole wrapped her arms tightly about his neck and held on, her face buried against his throat. Moments passed before she lifted her head and kissed him—urgently—passionately—until he felt the same desperation overwhelm him. No one would take her from him. No one. Desire consumed him until he knew he would do anything to keep this woman. He pressed her against the stones. His hand slipped slowly along her neck past her throat down to cover one breast. Nicole arched into his hand. He stroked her gently until the nipple grew hard and pressed into his fingers through the cloth. He thrust his hips against the thickness of her skirts seeking the release hidden within. Blake broke from her mouth to kiss his way along her fragile jawline to her ear. Her breath came in short gasps that inflamed him further. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. All he had to do was lift her skirts and her virginity would be gone. Taken while pressed against the cold stones of a crumbling tower. Like a serving wench. He lifted his face from her neck. Her eyes were still closed, but tears streamed down her cheeks. Good God, what kind of monster had he become? This was Langley’s daughter. He should not care about her feelings, about her reputation. But he did. He was a damn fool. Control. Blake took a deep breath and stepped back. He kept his hold on Nicole long enough to steady her, then released her. Cheeks flushed, she swiped at her hair, then began to straighten her gown, all the while keeping her gaze averted. “We had best get back. I understand there is to be a    ball this evening,” he said with forced normalcy. Nicole raised her chin and met his gaze squarely. “Will I see you there?” He nodded, suddenly unable to speak for the knot in his throat. Damn it, he should explain his actions, but he did not know how. For too long he had done as he pleased without excuses, without explanations, without recriminations. “I shall forget this occurred if you will.” Her voice trembled slightly. She stared at him for a long moment, but still Blake did not speak. All she needed to hear from him was that he was sorry, that he wanted her desperately—just not like this. He could not bring himself to utter the words. Blake saw her throat muscles contract. She nodded as though he had given her the answer she required. She swept past him. Blake pressed his fists against the stones and lowered his head between his extended arms. Gradually, he became aware of the wind whistling softly through the crumbling tower past the emptiness of his soul. Over the moaning breeze he heard the sound of hoofbeats fade into the distance. Silence. He leaned his head back to stare through the gaping ceiling of the fortress to the darkening sky. She had gone. And Blake knew he might have just made the biggest mistake of his life. 
Chapter 13 
Blake paused in the double doorway of the Langley ballroom. He surveyed the crowd with a purposefully unconcerned air. The great hive of colorful bees hummed loudly in an effort to be heard over the lilting strains of the orchestra. It could have been one of those damnable crushes the ton so adored in London. An enormous chandelier of sparkling crystal reflected light off the massive wall of etched glass across the room. His own guests intermingled with those belonging to the Langleys, though for the life of him Blake could not distinguish between them. Relations, Aunt Sophia had said. My eye, he thought disagreeably. “Lord Diamond, welcome.” Angelica slipped between two serving maids, her velvet clad elegance a striking contrast to their tidy black uniforms. She paused next to Blake, holding out her hand. “I had nearly given up on you.” Blake took her fingers lightly in his. “And miss all this? Never.” With a distracted smile, the woman’s green-eyed gaze searched the packed room, eventually coming to    rest. Blake saw her watching a particularly large group in a far corner away from the dancers. Then he saw the focus of the circle—his fiancée, an exquisite flower in ice blue silk. “I think our households have managed quite nicely thus far, since we did not expect this volume of people. You were as surprised as we, were you not?” Angelica inquired. He stifled a chuckle at the lightly veiled hostility. “It seems my aunt, Lady Ransom, took it upon herself to send out an army of messengers with invitations over and above those requested by your husband. I asked that she procure a special marriage license as I felt no need for the presence of family members. Yet they are here. She was quite efficient, do you not agree?” The corners of Angelica’s lips trembled. “I am certain I could not have been quite as expeditious.” “That is my aunt, though she did have a strong plus in her favor. All of London would have run each other over to be the first to investigate a scandal.” “Scandal? Whatever do you mean? I have been spreading the story of how Nicole wrote to Teddy in America and Teddy, learning that the two of you shared an interest in horses, suggested you correspond. Of course you did so and eventually you determined that as you were to be in England to take care of your father’s estate, you must meet her in person. Your hopes were realized and you knew at once you had found the woman you would marry. Pressing business in America forces us to move up the wedding date as the two lovebirds did not wish to be apart any longer. Am I mistaken on any count?” 0 - Blake nodded to a passing acquaintance whose name he could not recall. Admiration for Angelica’s savoir-faire rose to the forefront. “I am truly impressed at the depth of your understanding of the situation. I shall be certain no variations occur from my quarter. Have you thought to share this touching love story with your daughter?” Reflective, a little pensive, Angelica watched Nicole. Blake turned to see one of the men break away from the throng to lean over Nicole in an attempt to gain her attention. “I spoke with Nicole, my lord, but it is Theodore I worry about. Though Nicole said she would speak to him, I fear he will do whatever furthers his own interests.” “And at the moment, his primary interest appears to be my fiancée.” “It appears so.” He furrowed his brow in irritation as Teddy captured Nicole’s hand and brought it to his lips with a flourish. So much for his efforts earlier in the day to make her forget the popinjay. “It is much like having an adder for a pet. Will it protect you from your enemies, or will it turn and bite the hand of its master?” Angelica’s gaze searched his face with obvious concern. “I am hoping we can trust in his regard for Nicole.” As Blake returned his attention to Nicole, he noted that she had spied him and waved one hand emphatically, her movements coming perilously close to blinding one of her admirers. A spark of pride flickered inside him as she immediately excused herself to embark on the formidable journey through the crushing profusion of people to    reach him. “If there is a woman alive able to reform a man, I believe it must be your Nicole.” “She has always been filled with such trust. Somehow it leaves a person longing to live up to her every expectation. One is destined to fail.” A sadness trembled in Angelica’s voice. Blake glanced at her sharply, startled to find a sheen of tears welling up in her eyes. Never at ease in the presence of an emotional woman, he cleared his throat and hoped for divine guidance. “You care for her a great deal.” With relief, Blake watched her rapidly blink the moisture away. “I love both of Jonathon’s girls as much as my own Shelby, but Nicole has refused my every attempt to become closer. If I did not know better, I would almost believe she hated me long before she knew me. Sometimes, when I meet her eyes unexpectedly, there is such animosity…” “My lord!” Nicole came to a breathless halt before them. Blake noted the subtle stiffening of her body as she looked at her stepmother. “Angelica. I feared you had been kept away, Blake. Is this not the most wonderful party! Just think of it, they have all come in our honor.” Blake smiled while his gaze lingered on Nicole’s flushed cheeks and her lustrous blue green eyes. Any concern he might have that she would be cool after their afternoon venture dissipated before her obvious good humor. “You are quite beautiful tonight, my dear. Every man in the room must be boiling with envy of me.” Without hesitation, Nicole slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “You must introduce me to your  - family. There are so many people here I have already forgotten most of them.” “I suppose the first person you must meet is my aunt, Lady Sophia Ransom. She seems to have unearthed relations I was not aware I had. That is her in the purple velvet standing next to the tall, sourlooking gentleman whom I must claim as my cousin, Harry. He wore that same pout when he was a boy.” Nicole bestowed a chiding glance on him. “You are unkind, but he does rather appear to be sulking.” Blake met Angelica’s gaze over Nicole’s golden curls. “Would you care to join us?” “Thank you, no.” Angelica searched the vast room. “I must find Jonathon. I fear Josephine has cornered him somewhere and he must circulate amongst the guests.” As Angelica took her leave, Blake noted that Nicole had gained an extraordinary fascination for the white marble floor. Gently, Blake tipped her face to his. “She is trying very hard, you know.” “We have only until the wedding to tolerate each other, and then I shall be gone.” “What is it that makes you so bitter?” Her eyes darkened and Blake had the sudden longing to erase the pain he saw there. Then Nicole looked away, breaking the tenuous contact. “You have your secrets, my Lord Diamond. I have a few of my own. If you should decide to share yours, then perhaps I may return the favor.” Blake stiffened. “You think I possess secrets, do you?” She nodded solemnly. “A great many. In fact, it seems your entire life has become one monumental enigma. Perhaps you have become so used to your    situation that you will never seek to release yourself from the suffering.” The perceptive speech struck a nerve. “I want to enjoy myself tonight, Nicole. I do not wish to dwell on matters that are best left in the darkness of my soul where they belong.” “My soul has its shadows as well, Blake. When you are able to bring yours into the light, perhaps mine shall follow. Maybe in doing so, we can heal one another.” Unable to bring himself to look at her, Blake instead grabbed her arm and forged into the midst of the crowd, maneuvering her with a light touch. Thoughts that he might see his own pain mirrored in her lovely eyes sent fear racing through him. This girl should not mean anything to him. The daughter of Jonathon Langley, the woman Theodore Bartholomew loved—she was the perfect pawn in his game of revenge. Yet he had vowed to himself not to hurt her. He stood tall enough to see over the heads of the guests and made straight for his aunt, who noticed his approach and moved to meet him. “Aunt, I would like you to meet Lady Nicole Langley, my fiancée. She prefers to be called Nicki.” Sophia looked from Blake to Nicole for a moment before a genuine smile of pleasure broke through the normal haughtiness of her expression. “Then I shall call you Nicki, for any girl capable of winning a Diamond is someone I wish to please.” “You are very kind, but perhaps too complimentary, Lady Ransom.” Blake tightened his hold slightly on Nicole’s elbow. “And you are too modest, my darling. I will be  - the first to admit it was your very uniqueness that encouraged me to ask for your hand.” Color swept Nicole’s cheeks and Blake noted the faintest tremor along her delicate jawline. “And it was your excessive charm that swept me quite off my feet. I had envisioned someone very different when I met your nephew, my lady.” “I hope you were not disappointed, Nicole. This is the first I have heard of any shortcomings on my part.” The comment earned Blake a dangerous look from Nicole’s incredible eyes. “Not disappointed exactly—I would say dumbfounded. You were not at all the man I expected you to be.” Sophia tapped her fan gently in her palm, obviously enjoying the exchange immensely. “I have often found that about the males in the Diamond clan. They say still waters run deep, my girl, and none more so than in the Earls of Diamond.” “Then I must be perilously close to drowning,” responded Nicole dryly. “Do not depend on my nephew here to rescue you. The women destined to spend their lives with these men, whether by blood or marriage, must find their own savior.” Blake glared at his aunt. “Perhaps you would like to tell Nicole about the custom ‘we Diamond men’ have of murdering our first wives and displaying their heads in the study?” Both women burst into laughter at his sour remark. Nicole leaned close to Blake, surrounding him in the diaphanous scent of wild roses. “Then we are sure to have an exciting marriage, sir. The Langleys are known    to drive their mates straight into Bedlam.” “Ah, a worthy opponent,” he retorted, but could not resist a grin. Aunt Sophia snapped his arm with her folded fan. “This is your intended, you wretched man! You mustn’t speak to her so.” “Do not worry, my lady, I do not fear competition,” Nicole intervened. “But I would know the stakes, my lord.” He looked deep into her eyes. “That, my dear, is up to you.”  Several couples twirled past then disappeared into the colorful blur of dancers surrounding Nicki and Blake. She moved her hand nervously on the fabric of the earl’s sleeve, searching for a topic of conversation that would not send him dashing behind that wall of indifference he so liked to erect. A difficult task when the feel of his hand on her waist, the closeness warranted by the waltz, sent her emotions and thoughts scattering. He looked so elegant and refined in his evening clothes of black and white— every inch the titled earl. But in his touch remained the fire that had engulfed her within the stones of Winterhaven. She avoided Blake’s gaze, not wanting him to see her feelings. Did he find it easy to forget what had happened between them only hours ago? As a girl, Nicki had lain in the center of those magical walls and stared up at the heavens, dreaming of a knight in flashing silver armor who would ride up to the tower and kill  - every last one of her dragons. Today Blake had entered her fantasy world, whether he meant to or not. Had she at last found her knight? She had gone to Winterhaven to determine the path her future meant to take, but once again the earl had second-guessed her. And in doing so, he had made her choice for her. Stop this! A safe subject guaranteed not to raise Blake’s hackles, that is what she had meant to think about. Not about passionate kisses or broad shoulders with hard muscles that flexed beneath her fingers. She turned her face up to his. “Calypso allowed me to touch her this afternoon. She is such a little lady, just like her mother.” A half smile touched Blake’s face, so dark against the white of his cravat. So handsome. His hand tightened slightly on Nicki’s waist, and her breath caught in her throat as he spun her in a particularly complicated maneuver, all the while remaining in perfect time with the orchestra. “Oh? Was that before or after your ride?” “After.” A slow burn started at her neck at the subtle barb, but Nicki forced her feet to match the earl’s stride. Thank heaven her dancing instructor had emphasized a more athletic approach to dance steps. “It was all I needed to calm my frazzled nerves. As you can see, it worked wonders. I am quite recovered and I managed to stay out of Angelica’s way. She had enough to worry about without watching me to ensure I did not humiliate her in some way.” He nodded solemnly, as though in understanding. “Best to be with your horses who demand nothing of you.”    “Is that so horrible? They accept me as I am, without censure, without expectations I cannot live up to.” “Odd. Angelica said much the same about you.” Surprise brought Nicki’s full attention to Blake, and she missed a step. “Blast! Why would she say something like that to you, of all people?” Skillfully, he guided her back into cadence, making her misstep scarcely noticeable. “Perhaps if the two of you ever managed to set aside your differences long enough to talk to one another you might learn the answer.” She eluded his probing look, instead flashing a smile at a couple close by. “I prefer to maintain my relationship with Angelica as it stands. Do you plan to make a fresh beginning with my father—for the sake of family, of course?” “Touché, my dear.” Blake bowed his head politely in the direction of an elderly couple. “Once again we have ventured into forbidden territory. Tell me about your Calypso.” “Forgive my silliness. I forget that not everyone shares my enthusiasm for horseflesh.” The earl put on an injured front. “Can it be you have forgotten the very subject that brought us together? Were it not for our mutual love of horses, we might never have met.” Nicki could only shake her head in admiration. “You learned your part in this charade amazingly well, my lord. But then I’m sure you make certain you master every facet of your life, no matter what it is.” “And you, my charming lady, ensure that your blinders are securely in place so you may charge through your life with only one purpose in mind.”  - “And what purpose is that?” The harsh planes of his face broke into one of those elusive smiles that transformed him from a man of ice into warm flesh and blood. “The answer requires further investigation on my part. You are truly an Original.” Nicki was not certain she liked being an Original, so she chose a new theme. “Angelica has planned a hunt for early in the morning. Will you accompany me?” “Dare I?” She slanted him a withering glance. “If you believe I plan to disgrace the family by wearing trousers you are mistaken. Angelica has managed to keep us all clothed in the highest fashion. I shall be wearing a riding habit of sky blue and the hat is adorned with a small peacock feather. I am certain I shall quite take your breath away.” Blake’s silver stare ignited a flame in the pit of her stomach that quickly enveloped her entire body. “I have already formed a picture of you in those breeches you wore in my bedchamber. That takes my breath away.” “My lord!” Panic-stricken, Nicki glanced swiftly to the nearby dancers, though no one appeared to have heard. “I care nothing for scandal, but I do not wish my stepmother to have further reason to make my remaining days under this roof any more miserable than usual.” His laughter managed to draw the attention his comment had failed to do. “I merely expressed an honest opinion.” Nicki pasted on a pleasant smile for the benefit of their audience and spoke through clenched teeth. “You—sir—are a hopeless scoundrel! I would even go    so far as to call you extremely contrary!” “Ah—she is the light of my day, the moon of my night—yet she cuts me to the core of my being with her unkind words.” “Not even the moon of your night could break through those clever shields of yours, my lord. And if you expect me to believe you feel I am the light of your day, it is not likely!” His smile faded, but a devilish gleam remained. “Angel—are you irritated with me? Tell me it is not so before I perish!” Despite her efforts to maintain proper decorum, Nicki chuckled. “The wilderness of America did little to dull your polish. You must have broken a great many hearts when you left England.” The icy veil snapped into place. “Only one.” “Did you love her very much?” Where did the catch in her throat come from? “I do not recall saying the heart belonged to a she.” Frustrated, Nicki furrowed her brow before recalling appearances. “How shall we ever get on together if you refuse to reveal to me any facet of your life!” In answer to her show of temper Blake’s eyes sparkled. At least she knew how to get a real smile out of him. “Very well. Ask me one question and I will try to answer it honestly. But beware of those subjects I have marked as a closed book. You will only waste your opportunity.” Nicki thought for a moment, feeling rushed as the dance was certain to end at any moment. Every question she touched upon was certain to be rejected, until she came to the one question perhaps most important to her. Did she dare take the risk? 0 - Her throat tightened around the words and she took a fortifying breath. “I have a question you should be free to answer, my lord.” “I wait with baited breath.” His hand gripped her waist a little tighter, drawing her closer to him. Nicki tipped her head back further to meet the expectant expression on his handsome face. “Do you think… is it possible you might come to love me?” His entire body stiffened and Nicki trod upon his toe before he recovered. “You are certainly skilled at delivering a facer, my dear.” “There you go again, avoiding the question. Next you shall offer some glib response. I will not have it! You made the offer, now show me you are the honorable man I believe you to be and give me my answer!” For the briefest instant a glint of some vague emotion sprang to the forefront of his eyes. Regret— disappointment. Nicki steeled herself against the pain she now knew he intended to hand her. Winterhaven had been nothing more than a fantasy. Her fantasy. Not his. “I am incapable of love, Nicole. Once—years ago —it was something I looked forward to, but that softer emotion was snuffed out. It is gone—forever. I cannot get it back.” She nodded, carefully drawing that inner cloak of blackness about her heart until she could gather her defenses. She should be relieved by his response. This man hated her family, thereby despising her as well. Only a fool would want him—would want his love. Pain pressed in upon her, threatening to devour the protective layer she had erected. He must not see what a fool she truly was. “I    thought—you have shown me such consideration. And then, after this afternoon, I had hoped—” “Stop, Nicole. Put away your little girl dreams that I will become your knight-errant. You will only be disappointed when you find I shall never live up to your expectations. I shall not even try.” His words hit her one by one like stones aimed at the most vital, vulnerable portions of her being. He read her heart so easily. Too easily. After this afternoon at Winterhaven she had almost believed that Blake was beginning to truly care for her—that her dream of a marriage for love could come true. Still hopeful, Nicki met the implacable facade of his icy gaze. “My expectations are not so high, my lord. Perhaps in time—” “No! I will not allow you to hold out for more. You wanted an honest answer and I provided one.” Lifting her chin, Nicki forced her stare to remain locked to his. “Yes, you did. I thank you for honoring our agreement.” He cursed softly beneath his breath. If he found the prospect of hurting her so unpleasant, then he could feel more. As the dance ended, she flashed him what she hoped was her most dazzling smile. Obviously suspicious of her sudden change of mood, Blake eyed her warily. He took her by the upper arm and led her off the ballroom floor toward the open doors leading to the balcony. When he glanced down at her again, the rugged lines of his face softened. Her aspirations sprang anew. With a wrenching in her heart, Nicki knew she had indeed found her knight, though he might need a slight push to accept his new role.  - She could very well be consigning herself to the same fate as her mother, a loveless marriage, yet she knew she could never go back now. She would have her work cut out for her—convincing the Earl of Diamond that he could love someone. No. Convincing him that he could love her.    
Chapter 14 
The crisp morning air rushed to envelop Nicki the moment she left the house. She wrapped her arms close against her waist in a fruitless attempt to ward off the cold. Her breath snaked out in a mist before her face when the warmth leaving her body met with the chilled air. Raising her face to the grey sky, she paused to watch a tiny snowbird drift on the wind, then light in a tree nearby. The last vestiges of night disappeared into a glorious morning. “Do you intend to hide here all day?” Nicki smiled to herself before she pivoted slowly to face the owner of the voice. “Good morning, my Lord Diamond. How dashing you look.” Blake, astride his bay stallion, leaned an elbow against one muscled thigh encased in buff breeches. “You must leave off complimenting me on my appearance before I have the chance to tell you what an exquisite gem you are.” “I shall continue to tell you what is in my heart.” Blake urged his horse closer to the porch; their gazes were nearly even. Nicki tossed her riding crop  - aside and leaned forward to rest her hands on his broad shoulders. She proudly noted he needed none of the padding so prominent in the dress of a good many of the male guests. Their faces were so close Nicki could see black flecks frozen in the silver irises of the earl’s eyes. Diamond eyes, she had overheard someone say last night. Blake reached out to cup her jaw in his hand. “Ah, sweet Nicole…” His lips on hers were cold, yet their softness sent heat raging through her. Remembering their kiss yesterday, she turned her head slightly and opened her mouth just a bit. Blake groaned in response. His gloved hand slipped along her jaw to the back of her neck and Nicki felt herself being drawn once again into that wonderful vortex of velvet passion where Blake Dylan held complete mastery. His tongue teased, flicking across her lips, her teeth, then deeper. Generously, she returned the favor. This man could consume her—could drag her down into the blackness of his soul—and she would not care. As long as there was this. Nicki edged closer. She pressed herself against his warmth, tightened her hold about his neck. Where their bodies melded together scorched her through her clothing, like standing too close to a blazing fire. With a swift movement, Blake wrapped his arms about Nicki’s waist and pulled her before him on the horse. Their lips broke apart and she stared up into his face, breathless, aching for… something. Something only he could provide. “Enchantress.” With a groan, he crushed her mouth    beneath his, as though he too suffered the same insatiable yearning. The horse moved nervously beneath them, but Nicki clung to Blake, pulled against his neck to have him nearer to her—so near that they could never be separated. So close that they were one and the same person. “Good God, Diamond! Nick?” Alarm flashed through Nicki. She broke away from Blake and leapt toward the porch. Awkwardly, Blake held on to her to keep her from falling. Feeling as though she had been doused with water from the stream, Nicki turned to face Teddy. Then it happened. She was struck blind. With a cry of panic, Nicki reached up to her eyes to discover that her hat had slipped down to obliterate her vision. Her hands trembled as she manipulated the delicate velvet cap back into place and bent to retrieve her abandoned riding crop. “Bartholomew. Have you nothing with which to occupy yourself? I find these interruptions damnably inconvenient.” Blake’s voice broke the heavy silence —so calm he might have been discussing the weather. Though he stood several yards away, Nicki could see Teddy’s topaz eyes spark with anger. “Nicki’s father asked me to find out what was keeping her. I had no idea it was you detaining her, or I should have come much sooner.” Nicki finished pinning the hat more securely, but noted the single fetching peacock feather drooped limply over her shoulder. The fragile stem must have broken in the process of repinning. Or had it been crushed while she languished in Blake’s passionate  - embrace? Whatever the case, Nicki thanked heaven Angelica would not be joining the hunt. Her appearance repaired to the best of her ability, Nicki faced the combatants with what she hoped was stern control. “Teddy, I am coming. You need not bedevil the earl for delaying me, for I am as much to blame as he.” Teddy’s lips thinned and the words seemed propelled from his mouth with great effort. “Then I apologize. Shall I tell your father you’ll join us shortly?” When Nicki caught Blake’s smirk from the corner of her eye, warmth rose in her cheeks. She chose to ignore him and kept her attention on Teddy. “No… I… we are quite finished.” As she moved down the steps to the walk, Blake urged his horse between her and Teddy. He leaned down, his breath tickling her ear. “We are far from finished, my dear, but I believe I have proved I am a patient man.” She glared up at him. “Would you please join the others, Blake, before that great beast steps on one of us!” With a chuckle, he pressed his boot heels into the horse’s sides. As horse and rider disappeared around the side of the house, Nicki risked a quick look at Teddy. He stared at the shining toes of his boots, the picture of utter despondence. “He has captivated you, Nick. Why can you not see him for what he is?” “And what is he, Teddy? Do you truly know him so well?” “I know him well him enough to see he’s using you.” Nicki winced at the words, but stubbornly refused    to believe the earl had the capacity for such inhuman cruelty. Still, she was not so naive that she did not realize passion could be feigned, and a niggling doubt wormed its way to prominence in her thoughts. “Do you mean to say he could not possibly have feelings for me? Am I so unlovable?” Teddy grabbed her arm, pulled her to a stop and turned her so they faced each other. Furious color splotched the fairness of his face. “You know that isn’t what I meant. You stubbornly refuse to really see him!” “He is the man I am to marry, Teddy,” Nicki angrily tugged against his hold until he released her, “for better or for worse. I can only hope for the better.” “I could make you happy. You have only to say the word and we can be gone. He’ll not come after you, I guarantee it.” Nicki shook her head vehemently. Only a few short days ago she might have considered Teddy’s offer, but now she knew her feelings for Teddy were merely those of a friend. “Somehow, I think he might come after me. But it does not matter. I will not betray him.” “Listen to yourself!” Teddy gripped her shoulders with force. He held her even more firmly when she would have pulled away. “He doesn’t deserve your loyalty! You would put him before me, whom you have known for years—before your own father!” “Bartholomew, I believe it is now you who are detaining my fiancée.” Released abruptly, Nicki stumbled backward, and was awkward at regaining her balance. She had heard no sound to warn her of Blake’s return. “We were just  - coming, my lord.” Though the horse moved restlessly beneath him, Blake’s silver gaze impaled Teddy with a fury more frightening because of the deadly stillness of his body. “I hope you were not badgering Nicole over a subject that is none of your affair.” “Nicki and I have been friends for a long time.” The pink in Teddy’s cheeks darkened, but he merely tugged down the sleeves of his emerald riding jacket. “I’ll not remain silent when I fear for her well being.” “I do not care how long you claim acquaintanceship with her, she is now my concern and you will stay away from her!” “I will not!” “Then perhaps we will have to settle this once and for all.” Nicki gaped from Teddy’s splotched face to Blake’s features chiseled in stone-like rage. Though he sat his horse casually, a tenseness emanated from him. She hurried to stand between the two. “I believe I just heard Papa calling. You two must leave off this bickering or I shall not speak to either of you!” Without waiting for a reply, she stalked past them. At that moment she did not care if they followed or broke out into fisticuffs. Teddy had ever been hotheaded, but she had truly believed Blake possessed more selfcontrol. Her father had not called, but Nicki could think of no better diffuser for the situation. She was unused to breaking up arguments between grown men who should have had better sense. Her boots soundly impacted the cobblestones of    the walkway, testimony to her frustration. As Nicki rounded the corner of the house, she looked up from the ground to see her father motioning to her from the midst of the stable yard teeming with horses and riders. Quickly, she took note of the few women present and sighed in relief when she realized she was dressed appropriately—thanks to Angelica. Smiling greetings over the growling, baying hounds, Nicki passed through mounted riders on the way to her father, who stood near the front entrance to the stables. He held the reins of his favorite bay gelding as well as a big black stallion. Nicki looked from the horse to her father. “Papa, are you riding Zeus?” “No, girl, you are.” She glanced at Andrew holding the lead chain for the stallion. “I instructed Hera to be saddled, not Zeus.” The trainer slunk back between the two horses. “Uh—er…” “I told him you wouldn’t be taking Hera,” her father interceded. “It’s my mistake, girl.” “One that is easily remedied. It will only take a moment to ready Hera. You surprise me, Papa. I would have a difficult time controlling Zeus amidst all these mares.” Her father ran a finger under his collar and Nicki noted that though the morning was cool he sweated profusely. “I’ll not have you defying me in front of all these folks, Nick. Ride the stallion or return to the house at once.” A chill encompassed Nicki. Papa would never speak so to her unless… “Something has happened. What are the two of you keeping from me?” 0 - “Nick—” “No—I will hear this from Andrew, Papa. Well? What half-hearted excuse will you provide me now? Or perhaps you will have the decency to tell me the truth.” Andrew’s panicked gaze flicked to her father, then dropped to stare at the ground. His shoulders sagged. “It’s ‘era, milady, she’s bad sick.” Nicki tensed. “Sick? She was fine yesterday.” The trainer kicked at the ground for a moment, his mouth working. When he looked at Nicki, tears misted his eyes. “We lost four o’ the youngsters so far. ‘era must’ve bullied ‘er way into their ‘ay and…” The smooth wood of the riding crop in her hands reminded Nicki that she had not worn her gloves. She clenched the crop tighter, and then, as though from a great distance, she heard the wood snap. “We fed them bad hay? How is that possible?” Andrew stared at her hands, all color leaving his craggy face. “Milady—ye’ve ‘urt yerself—” “I will have an answer! How did our horses get bad hay?” Her father tugged the remaining pieces of the riding crop from Nicki’s hands and took her arm. “Let’s return to the house. Perhaps Blake will lead the hunt.” Nicki jerked free. “These are my horses as much as they are yours. I have a right to know the reason they are dying!” “Bad ‘ay, milady, mixed in w’ the fodder,” blurted Andrew. Disbelief overwhelmed her. “There is someone around this stable at all times. No one could have had access…”    She cut off her words as the trainer’s eyes moved to a point beyond Nicki’s left shoulder. When she followed his gaze, she found the earl seated astride his dark bay. “Th’ only stranger about was a man sent by his lordship, th’ Earl o’ Diamond, to look fer a watch the earl lost.” Nicki stared at Blake as the words echoed through her mind. Not Blake—not this. She waited for his face to register something—guilt, pity—perhaps even remorse. There was nothing. She inhaled deeply; the brisk air flooded her lungs. Her eyes began to tear. “Blake—do you have anything to say?” The earl shrugged and shook his head. Nicki could feel the pain working its way through the protective shell encasing her heart. He had betrayed her. She had allowed him to become part of her world—trusted him with the passion and love she had for these beautiful animals, only to have that trust repaid by using her to once again strike out at her father. But he had not used her directly; he had chosen her precious horses as the weapon. She turned to Andrew, who still watched the earl, as though pleading for him to speak. “Take me to Hera. You have made certain she is separated from the other animals?” Andrew nodded wordlessly. Nicki sensed his helplessness. He, too, adored the horses. This was senseless destruction. The fragile strand holding her emotions in check snapped and Nicki swung about, prepared to pour out all her anger and agony. Blake stood only inches from her, though she had not heard his approach. He took her arm in a grip that told her he would allow no protest. “Your Grace—I  - will see to your daughter. Perhaps you should get the hunt underway. The dogs are restless.” Nicki’s father nodded. She stared at him in amazement as Blake led her past him and into the stables. As soon as the stable doors thudded closed, she snatched her arm free. “I trusted you!” She curled her fingers into fists. “How could I have been such a fool?” The earl moved to stand several feet away and crossed his arms over his chest in the casual gesture so much a part of him. “I have allowed your wild accusations thus far because you are distraught. Be warned—from this point forward, I will not listen to further recriminations.” The air in the stables thickened. Nicki struggled to draw breath into her lungs, but the wooden walls spun wildly. Blindly, she reached out toward the darkness creeping across her consciousness. She stumbled, but managed to recover her footing. Then strong arms enfolded her, righting the world, but leaving her still victim to the blackness. She wanted to hide, to go where the pain could never find her. Long moments passed. Gradually, Nicki became aware of small sounds—the soft rustle of straw, the low expectant nicker offered by Aphrodite, the soothing timbre of the voice close to her ear. She had not heard Blake’s words, did not care to hear them. With a supreme effort of will, she thrust herself away from the comfort offered by his embrace. Across the minute distance that separated them, she met his stare. A realization crashed over her, as chilling as the wind outside. Someone purposefully poisoned the horses that were to go to their new owners this    spring—and the only person with a desire to see her father suffer financial ruin stood before her. He was unbending, unyielding, and he refused to offer explanation or supposition. She had trusted him, had given her heart to him, naively maintaining that goodness and honor dwelt beneath that hard exterior despite Teddy’s assertions to the contrary. How could she have been so terribly wrong? Bright red stained his white shirt front beneath his charcoal jacket. Almost absently, Nicki held out her hands to examine the cuts slashed across her palms and fingers, vaguely surprised she felt no physical pain. A thunk sounded and the stable doors swung wide. Andrew entered leading Zeus and Blake’s mount. Nicki stepped back to allow him to pass with the animals, then hurriedly pulled the doors closed after them. As she turned back to the inner chamber, she crossed her arms and carefully tucked her bloodstained hands from view. She did not know what to do—how to feel. Blake took the reins of his horse and waited patiently as Andrew locked Zeus in a stall, then motioned toward another. Nicki strained to hear their words, but their voices were too low. Andrew shook his head adamantly and Nicki soon learned the reason for his reaction. Blake led his horse into Hera’s abandoned stall. The reckless gesture confused her. She forced her body into motion. “Blake, you mustn’t! What if Hera was poisoned here, in her stall?”  - The silver eyes viewed her from behind their icy shroud. “Surely you must know my reasoning. After all, you are so certain I orchestrated this grisly occurrence.” The words snapped over her head like the crack of a whip, yet Nicki did not feel their sting. She realized in that moment she had hurt him—badly enough that he struck out at her in retaliation. “Andrew—we will go to Hera,” she said softly. “I presume you put her in the old stables.” “Aye, milady, but… well… ye shouldn’t be seein’ ‘er like she is.” “His lordship will be with me. You stay here and wait for the hunting party to return.” Andrew appeared about to argue, then glanced at the earl. “We was with ‘er most the night. Me boy went to get some sleep and I ‘ad to ready the ‘orses for the ‘unt.” “I know you have done all you can, Andrew. If she must die—it is best I be the one to ease her passing.” “Aye, milady.” This time when Blake took Nicki’s arm, she allowed his touch. “This way.” Her voice whispered through the heaviness of the air. She led Blake out the back door of the stable and into the corral. At the far end of the fenced area was a gate leading into a second enclosure surrounding an old barn that was now used mainly for the storage of grain and tack. Once inside the dilapidated, windowless building, it took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Nicki froze. One of the stalls had several lanterns hanging from spikes positioned high in the    wooden walls. Beneath the slatted boards, she saw Hera lying down, her head drooped wearily toward the floor. Nicki pressed her fist to her mouth to muffle a cry of despair even as she stepped closer to the opening. Fresh straw created a soft bed, but the mare had passed beyond caring. The heavy silence resounded with the harsh rasp of the horse’s labored breathing. Blake stepped around Nicki and entered the stall. As Nicki watched, he knelt next to Hera’s head. With his gloved hand he stroked her sweat-dampened neck gently. His voice soothed the horse just as it had done for her only moments before. Hera offered no response. As Blake’s hand traveled along her trembling side, the mare’s eyes rolled back to show white. Tears choked Nicki. To think the other horses had died like this—and now Hera. She swiped impatiently at the wetness on her cheeks. The ridiculous peacock feather tickled her hand. Nicki reached up, dragged the pins from her hair, and flung the hat aside. She unbuttoned the short blue spencer and tossed it aside as well. She intended to be with the horse until the very end, no matter how long the vigil might be. She dropped to her knees on the straw beside Blake. When he glanced at her there seemed to be a softening in his expression, but it quickly disappeared —if it had ever been there. “It does not look good for your Hera, Nicole. Perhaps you should return to the house.” She shook her head vehemently, causing her loosened hair to cascade about her in tangles. She drew in a deep breath as she reached back to clumsily twist the loose strands into a knot.  - “I will stay.” Blake stood and removed his gloves and jacket. As he rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, he watched Hera’s every movement. “We must get her on her feet. She’s smothering.” Standing was the last action Hera intended to perform. No amount of cajoling or tugging could encourage her further than into an awkward crouch. Gasping from their efforts, Nicki and Blake looked to each other for some better solution. “We shall have to find some rope and rig some type of sling to lift her. She is too weak to do the work herself, but perhaps with our help…” Nicki nodded, anxious to try anything to ease Hera’s discomfort. She took one of the lanterns from a hook nearby and left the stall, moving to the tack room. Shining the lantern to and fro, she saw an overwhelming jumble of items, some old and useless, some newer. She lifted a heavy loop of rope from a peg on the wall as well as a canvas blanket that appeared to be in fairly good condition. Nicki retrieved a blade used for cutting rope that lay on a wooden counter nearby and a pair of thick leather gloves. Armed with her implements, she returned to Blake. He surveyed her supplies perfunctorily as she replaced the lantern on the empty hook. When Nicki returned to his side, he gave her an admiring look, which brought heat rushing to her face. “I can look for anything more you might need,” she said quickly. Blake worked swiftly and decisively, slashing incisions in the canvas and stringing the rope through the slits. He ran the rope the length of the blanket and    out the other end before cutting it and doing the same on the other side. “The blanket alone would never hold her weight, so I have run the rope beneath the fabric as a support. With the blanket between her and the rope she should be more comfortable.” Nicki nodded. In the space of moments, Blake had once again earned her complete trust. She could not fathom that she had for the briefest instant believed him capable of harming her precious horses. Blake surveyed the walls of the stall, then glanced at Nicki. “I might be able to pull one side, but you…” “I can try. Please, Blake, we cannot give up now!” He held the makeshift sling in one hand and reached out to touch Nicki’s face gently with the other. “We will not give up.” Fighting back tears, she dropped to her knees on the floor next to Hera and stroked her soft muzzle. From there she watched as Blake pushed on the walls of the stall to check their sturdiness, then surveyed the heavy beam than ran several feet above the stall. “Have you an idea?” His silver eyes sparkled. “I believe I do. Wait here.” Blake left the stall. Nicki shivered and continued to murmur softly to Hera, hoping her voice did not reveal her terror. She had always shared a special relationship with the horses and they were extremely perceptive to her moods. In the years she had been helping her father breed and raise the horses, Nicki could not remember any of the animals having more than a scrape or two. Never had she faced a life threatening illness. Even the birthings had gone smoothly. Nicki chastised herself for not studying some sort  - of medicine related to the treatment of horses. Her lack of foresight might cost her Hera. Nicki got to her feet when Blake returned with the bay he had ridden that morning. He left the horse outside and entered the stall with an object in his hand. “Now, my dear, you are going to climb up onto that beam. Then I want you to take this hatchet and chop out a vee shaped chunk.” She looked up at the thick timber high overhead. “Did you happen to bring a ladder with you?” He grinned. “Just a strong back. Place your foot in my hand and I will hoist you up. Step on my shoulders if you must.” “As long as you promise not to drop me.” “Heaven forbid!” Tentatively, Nicki placed her boot in Blake’s intertwined hands. He lifted her easily, holding her until she pulled herself up and straddled the beam. Splinters lodged in her injured hands, but she managed to hold on, hatchet and all. Ignoring the sting of her wounds, she looked down to where Blake stood watching her. “Chop here?” He nodded. “But please, my dear, do not chop all the way through.” The wood resisted her first few attempts, but the more pieces she chipped away the easier the cutting became. Sweat broke out on her brow and she wiped it away impatiently, intent on her project. When she had cut out an indentation approximately two inches deep, she glanced down. Blake had completed his task and observed her movements. “Done.” “Excellent. I am going to throw this rope up to you. I want you run it across the cut and toss it back to me.”    Nicki did as instructed. She noted Blake had secured the blanket sling around Hera, with the ropes tied together over her back. He had then run a single rope through those. It was that rope that Nicki looped over the beam. “What now?” “Can you reach the handle of this bucket?” He held it up for her. “Good. I am going to have Banbury pull. You need to pour water over the rope to keep it from becoming hot and breaking.” “I can do that.” He nodded abruptly, his thoughts obviously focused on his next task. From her vantage point, Nicki watched as Blake went to the tack room and returned with several worn saddle blankets. He urged his horse backward toward the stall before running the rope up over the bay’s back. Blankets were placed to protect Banbury’s chest from the ropes. Finally, he fastened the ends at the front of the saddle. At a look from Blake, Nicki nodded and scooped water from the bucket into her hands to let it trickle down over the ropes. Blake urged Banbury forward. The rope jerked taut and moved several inches. Nicki doused the new portion of rope as it moved again. The procedure dragged on, but Hera’s body was gradually raised from the stall floor. Nicki gave a cheer as Hera put her feet down and stood on her own. Blake took advantage of the mare’s momentary strength and entered the stall to take hold of the several ends of rope lying across Hera’s back. He threw two up to Nicki. She ran them over the beam a foot or so apart and dropped them back down to Blake. He tied 0 - off the ends swiftly. “That should hold her. You can come down now.” Nicki eyed the drop skeptically. “Perhaps I will climb over…” Blake grinned. “While you think about your course of action, I need to finish up.” “Of course. I promise not to go anywhere.” He went to Banbury and worked the ropes loose. Nicki watched with fascination as he was careful to keep the rope taut while he moved to the slatted outer wall. A muscle ticked along his jaw as he tied the rope off on the largest timber running vertically, using the horizontal boards as a catch. When he reentered the stall, Hera whickered softly in welcome. He stroked her neck to sooth her, then glanced up at Nicki. Blushing deeply, Nicki realized she had not given a single thought to her descent, but instead had watched the earl’s every movement. “If you slip over the beam, you can put your feet on my shoulders, then ease your way down until I can lift you to the ground. But hand me that bucket first.” She took the handle of the pail and leaned down as far as she could. Blake’s height and long arms took over from there. He set the almost empty bucket aside and returned his attention to Nicki. Still hesitant, she spotted the hatchet and tossed it into the next stall. Now there was nothing left to do but get down. If she fell… well, she hoped she would not land on Hera. She had climbed up the sides of houses, for goodness sake! It was just that… she was suspended over Blake’s head, and in a skirt no less. Not that he had not had a perfect view of her legs while she straddled the beam. This thought stiffened her upper lip. The    damage had been done and she had not been any the wiser while it was occurring. Nicki swung her leg over the timber and used her elbows to brace herself. She felt Blake touch her calves. With a deep breath, she lowered herself slowly until her feet touched his shoulders. Still holding on to the beam, she looked down. The earl’s head had become enveloped in her dusty skirts. If she fell, or jumped she would likely break his neck. Devil take it. “Blake, can you step to your right, towards the wall? I can hang on to that and you can release my… you can release me and get my skirts away from your… face.” A muffled reply sounded, but he did as she suggested. She grabbed the top of the wall and Blake reached up to lift her skirts off his head. She grinned down at him, noting the ruddiness of his cheeks. “Light as you are, I would prefer to continue this intimacy in much more romantic surroundings. Would you kindly ease yourself down?” She nodded wordlessly. In an instant she was on the ground. “There! That was not so bad.” He jammed his fingers through his tousled raven hair, but a lock slipped onto his brow. “It was a rare treat, to be certain.” Nicki gave him a small smile. “Hera is getting jealous. You had best not pay me too much attention when she is near.” Glancing at the horse, Blake laughed. Hera watched them steadily with an expression that could only be described as offended. “Do not worry your pretty head, my girl. There is plenty of me to go around.”  - As Blake gently lifted Hera’s eyelids, then checked her nostrils, Nicki mulled over his words. Plenty of him to go around? Somehow she did not like that thought by half. As long as he meant only horses, she supposed she could accept that. “How is she?” Blake opened Hera’s mouth and the mare jerked her head away impatiently. “She seems better. Let us see if she will take some water. It would be the best thing for her.” Nicki retrieved the bucket and held it beneath Hera’s muzzle, but the mare turned her head away, uninterested. “Perhaps if you offer it, my lord?” He arched a brow to express his doubt, but took the pail anyway. Hera nearly knocked it from his hands in her eagerness to drink. Nicki giggled at Blake’s obvious surprise. “I do not believe I have ever had a female show me such devotion.” Joy swelled in Nicki’s heart. “You had best accustom yourself, my lord. You shall have more than your fair share from this point forward.”    
Chapter 15
 Blake sat against the rough boards of the wall, his arm across one bent knee, the other leg stretched out before him. He watched Nicole where she slept, curled up in the corner opposite him. Emotions swirled inside him—emotions he had thought long lost to him. She murmured softly, a frown furrowed her brow. So she had secrets. Thinking of her words the night before, he found it difficult to believe someone so pure of heart could possess anything but light and goodness in their soul. He could not recall ever knowing anyone like Nicole before. With every look, she made him feel special, worthy of being loved. He would have to beware of the emotions she evoked. She put such trust in him that with every ounce of his being he longed to earn that regard. But he could not allow her to distract him from his purpose. Hera whickered softly. Blake got up and went to her. She had taken some grain about an hour earlier. After a long day of careful tending, she seemed to be well on the road to recovery. Perhaps now Nicole would feel comfortable leaving her.  - Footfalls sounded on the wooden floor and Blake stiffened. When Angelica appeared at the opening of the stall carrying a basket, he relaxed only slightly. She held a lantern and, seeing Nicole asleep, lowered it to the floor outside. Her gaze focused on Blake as she spoke in a quiet tone. “I thought the two of you might be hungry. You missed two meals, after all.” Blake accepted the basket with a nod. “She refused to go and I could not leave her on the chance something might happen.” “She does love the horses. Since she was a young child she has constantly slipped away to hide out wherever they are.” “It is very late. You could have sent a servant.” Angelica watched Nicole, her expression unreadable in the dim light. “I wanted to check on her myself.” “She refused to give up hope. I honestly thought the horse would die, but I had to try—for her sake.” In the darkness, Blake had the strangest sense of familiarity as Angelica looked up at him. It was like seeing a gossamer vision of Nicole. She smiled and the image shattered. “I see she has pulled you in as well. We have all been the beneficiaries of Nicole’s unflagging willpower.” “You speak of her as if she were a force of nature, not a young woman.” “Do I? Perhaps that is the way I see her. I have tried so very hard to give her some sense of stability. She fights me at every turn.” Blake glanced at Nicole. She slept on, oblivious to her surroundings. “You are a forceful woman yourself. Perhaps you threaten her.”    “No matter. I would be content to see her happy. If you will allow it, she could find that happiness with you.” He set the basket aside. “I will make a home for her, but I will not promise more.” Angelica moved to lean wearily against the wall Blake had recently abandoned. “Will you spend the rest of your life beating yourself against a wall of revenge?” He met her gaze squarely. “That is none of your business.” Her lips twitched slightly. “Perhaps not. But I see what you are doing, even if Jonathon chooses not to. He believes you will forget the past. He cannot imagine anyone carrying such hatred in their heart that they would destroy a young woman—and anything or anyone else just for the sake of vengeance.” “Would you behave any differently?” “I have, Lord Diamond. Once everything I held dear was stripped from me. I thought I would never feel anything but agony and despair. I was wrong. Life goes on. You can dwell in the past and torture yourself every waking moment, or you can go on. I chose to go on—and eventually all that I had lost was returned to me.” Blake concentrated on a sliver embedded in his forefinger. “What I have lost can never be replaced. My father died alone because I could not be here with him.” He fastened his stare on her. “He died before I could tell him I was sorry—tell him the truth. Now—I can never tell him.” “He knows, Blake. You were his son.” He could not fathom the reason he had revealed so  - much. He owed this woman no explanations. “You said it exactly. I was his son. I will never see him again in this lifetime because of a foolish weakness on my part. Now you ask me to show the same weakness and forget all that was done to me. I will not. I cannot.” A rustle of straw behind him alerted him that Nicole had awakened. He turned, the harshness in him subsiding of its own accord at the sight of her. She smiled sleepily. So damn trusting. Nicole looked from him to Angelica and a guardedness entered her gaze. “What are you doing here?” “I brought food.” Nicole blinked in surprise, stood, dusted off her clothes and plucked straw from her tangled hair. “That was thoughtful of you.” “It is quite late, Nicole. Shall I have a bath drawn for you?” Glancing at Blake, Nicole hesitated. “I… I truly do not wish to leave Hera.” Blake stroked the horse’s neck. “She is well on her way to recovery, Nicole. Tomorrow I shall return and, with Andrew’s assistance, remove the sling.” “But—” “Have your meal here with Blake.” Angelica went to the stall opening, then glanced back. “In an hour a bath will be waiting for you. Then you should sleep. I have informed the guests neither of you will be joining in the card games tonight.” Obviously softening, Nicole smiled again. “Thank you.” “An hour, Nicole. No longer. I will not have you making yourself ill.” And she was gone. The stable once again declined    into silence. Nicole moved to the basket and removed the folded cloth covering the contents. “Since you are so clever at construction, my lord, perhaps you can find an appropriate dining area.” Blake retrieved a decrepit crate nearby and stood it on end between them. With a flourish that startled Hera, he dropped the cloth over the surface. Nicole chuckled and proceeded to unpack the basket. Freshly baked bread, two ceramic tureens of soup, and a crock of milk. Simple fare but manna for two starving people. Blake took the soup bowl and spoon offered him. Nicole poured the milk into two mugs. She took a drink then set her cup aside. A mustache of white rimmed her upper lip and Blake reached out to wipe it away gently with his thumb. An enchanting flush rose in her cheeks as Nicole licked the path he had traced. The action propelled him back to the remains of Winterhaven—reminded him of the sweetness of her mouth and the heat generated by their bodies melded together. He saw the frantic flutter of Nicole’s pulse at her neck, wondered what it would feel like beneath his lips… With a sharp intake of breath, he dropped his hand. “I think we work very well together,” he said matter-of-factly to hide his sudden desire. Nervously, Nicole picked up the spoon next to her bowl. “I am so grateful for all you did today. If not for you, Hera would surely have died.” “I might have put her out of her misery, but you have a damnable manner of making a man feel he can conquer the world.” “It bothers you that I believe in you?” She met his gaze steadily.  - Blake reached for the bread and broke off a large piece, which he handed to Nicole before taking one for himself. “I have told you before I do not want you to get your hopes up, yet you continue to do just that. What am I to do with you?” “Admit defeat and stop fighting me so.” Her whispered words wound an insidious path directly to his heart. What she suggested should have been simple. But he could not let go of the past. She knew nothing of the hatred that drove him. Such an emotion would likely horrify her, and she would turn from him in disgust. “I will stop fighting you when you leave off trying to change me. I am what I am, Nicole. No more, no less. You have bought into the deal as it is. You cannot say I did not warn you.” “Very well, hold on to your foolish ideals for the time being. Do not be surprised when you awaken one morning to find that I have actually managed to make you happy.” She tore off a small piece of bread and placed the bite in her mouth with exaggerated care. He stifled a smile at her obstinance and her deliberate attempt to antagonize him. “I thought the custom was that I would awaken one morning to find myself in Bedlam.” Her eyes sparkled. “Whatever brings you happiness, my lord.”  Nicki paused at the foot of the staircase. Light filtered beneath the door to her father’s study. With a sigh, she moved toward it and knocked softly. The    door creaked open slightly. “Who’s there?” She peeked into the room. “Nicki, Papa. Can I come in?” Her father, seated behind his desk, laid his pen down and smiled in welcome. “Of course, girl. I was hoping you’d stop in. How’s your Hera?” Nicki dropped into a chair opposite her father’s desk. Her muscles screamed in protest. “She will be fine, thanks to the earl.” “I’ll have to extend my gratitude.” She noted the slight hardening in the tone of his speech. “He could not have done this, Papa. I even believed… but only for a moment. Once I was thinking more clearly I realized he is not capable of such cruelty.” After setting aside the leather-bound journal open before him, her father raised his tired gaze to Nicki. “Whoever is responsible, the result is the same. It’s left for me to go to those who were promised the horses. We’ll not have our income for the year. My reputation will be tarnished, perhaps irreparably. It’s bound to hurt future business.” “There must be something we can do, Papa!” “Do you want to sell some of our breeding stock? Diana, Aphrodite, Zeus?” Nicki dropped her gaze. She could not bear to part with any of them. They had become a part of the family. Sadly, she shook her head. “Just as I thought, so I must go at once. Best not to delay. Bad news has a way of spreading like the plague.” “But—you will wait until after the wedding?” “The wedding.” Her father dropped his head into his hands in an unfamiliar gesture of defeat. “Have I 0 - done wrong by you, Nick? Dylan was once a good boy, but hate has a way of eating away at the soul. I won’t hand you over to a monster. You deserve someone who’ll love you.” Nicki got to her feet and went to stand behind her father. She had never known him to be uncertain. “Part of growing up is living with one’s mistakes, is that not so, Papa?” “You’re my daughter—my responsibility. Angelica reminded me of a mistake made years ago by—well, by another’s parents. I see myself doing the same.” She hugged him tightly from behind, resting her chin on his thick, silver streaked black hair. “This is not your mistake, Papa. It was I who went to the earl believing he was Teddy. It was my foolishness that landed me in this mess. You followed the only course open to you. If anyone is responsible for my predicament, it is I. And Blake. I admit it. And I also admit that I have grown extremely fond of him and I look forward to being his wife.” Her father’s shoulders tensed. “Ah, Nick, guard your heart well. Dylan’s become as unpredictable as the winds. I don’t want you destroyed by his bitterness.” “It is that bitterness I wish to banish, Papa. I can do it, I know I can.” He took one of her hands and drew her around to enfold her in a fierce hug. “Nicki girl, things happened —people were hurt. It has nothing to do with you, but you may be the one to pay in the end.” She looked down, searching his face. “Tell me, Papa. Tell me what is between you!” “It’s not my place.” He averted his gaze. “If Dylan wants you to know, then he can be the one to tell you.”    “Is it so horrible then?” “At the time, it was. Now—reflecting back—many lives were damaged beyond repair over a misunderstanding. I regret that. I can’t change it, though. No one can.” Nicki’s throat tightened. “Blake’s life was one of those damaged?” “His most of all.” “Then it is only right that it be your daughter who makes things right.” Her father reached up to touch her face gently with calloused fingers. “I know you want to, daughter, but sometimes—sometimes the healing can only come from inside. A person’s got to want to be helped. Don’t hurt yourself tryin’ to save him.” “In my heart, it feels as if his pain is mine.” A single tear trickled down her cheek and her father wiped it away, just as he had when she was a child. Her voice trembled. “If I cannot save him—I cannot save myself. Does that make any sense?” A sadness transformed his face, and he nodded. “It does, girl. If you love him, it makes perfect sense.” Nicki drew back, laughed, and wiped at her tears. “Then I must love him. Who would have thought?” “You’ve a generous heart, daughter. I hope he appreciates the grand gift that’s been given him.” Nicki moved across the carpet, automatically stepping around the familiar obstacles. At the door she paused to look back. “Someday he will—when he is ready.” “I must go to the buyers, but I’ll return in time for your wedding. I promise.” She nodded. “You had better be. I will not be wed  - unless it is your hand that gives me away. I love you, Papa.” At her words, her father sat a little straighter. “Away with you, tender-hearted girl.” His voice was gruff but Nicki could have sworn she saw tears in his eyes. She eased the door closed and collapsed back against the wood. Where had she found all those courageous words? Had she become such a skilled liar, then? Why would no one tell her what had happened all those years ago to drive Blake to ruin her father? Her heart felt as though it was being steadily crushed. For all her confident words in Blake’s defense, how could she be sure he had not struck out at her father yet again? Had she not been the one to blithely tell him the horses were their only source of income? No one else wanted to hurt her father. No one but Blake. Still, she could not bear to think ill of him after he had worked so hard to save Hera. There has to be another answer. But what? Everywhere she turned doors slammed against her—secrets refused to be shared. She clenched her fists, then winced in pain. Blake had removed most of the slivers and rinsed away the dirt, but she needed some of Em’s salve and clean dressings for the wounds to heal quickly. Nicki pushed away from the door and moved to the staircase. She had to have answers, but at this moment she was too tired. Tomorrow. She would go to Blake tomorrow and demand answers.     Blake entered his quiet house with a sense of relief. He had remained away as long as possible and the ploy had worked. The guests had retired for the night. As he tossed his jacket and gloves on the chair inside the door, he pictured Chester blanching at the sight of their condition. He smiled. A good stiff drink. That was what he wanted right now. He entered the library and shut the door carefully. A single oil lantern on the desk remained lit. Aided by the soft glow, Blake made his way to the sideboard where a decanter of brandy stood surrounded by crystal glasses. He poured himself a healthy drink. “What kept you, Blake? Nicki is extremely captivating, but you do have guests.” “Sophia.” Blake stiffened. “You need not have waited up for me.” His aunt moved from the shadows near the dying fire. Her dressing gown of magenta velvet wafted about her ankles as she approached. “Angelica sent a message that you were detained with an ill horse. You surprise me. I did not realize you had become a horse doctor while in America.” “No, but I do have a farm where I raise Arabians. I knew enough to be of some help.” “Of course. You would do anything to keep sadness from entering those lovely green eyes.” “If you speak of Nicole, you are correct. She adores those horses of hers. Four had died already.” Sophia took Blake’s glass as her own and watched as he poured himself another. “This actually worked out for the best. I wanted to talk with you alone.”  - Blake held up his glass in a silent toast. “I am flattered.” “Ah, Blake, as pleasurable as it is to verbally spar with you, I am much too tired.” She crossed to the settee, sat down and tucked her feet beneath the folds of her robes. “Please, sit down. I’ll get a crick in my neck looking up at you.” After seating himself in an armchair opposite her, he stretched his booted feet out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. He regarded Sophia curiously. “Pray go on.” “I’m sure you must have been informed by your father’s solicitor that I assisted him in tidying the affairs of the estate. It was I who went through Barrett’s personal effects. Most of his clothing I donated to the poor.” She took a drink, wincing only slightly. “But I came across a box containing some letters and other mementos. I thought you should have them.” Blake’s muscles tightened into stone. “Why should I want letters that were in my father’s possession?” Sophia’s pale eyes, so like his own, regarded him for a long moment and Blake had the uncomfortable feeling she saw more than he cared to reveal. “Because the letters are about you.” “I heard more than enough from him when he was alive. I do not care to hear more now that he is gone.” “That is your choice. I’ve done my duty in bringing them to you.” She rose and pointed a graceful finger toward the desk. “You might find them enlightening.” “Thank you, Sophia. “Blake took a drink of his brandy. Though the liquor burned through him, it could not banish the cold. She turned at the door, still holding the glass.    “Barrett was a hard man, Blake. No one knew that better than I. But he did love you. You shouldn’t doubt that.” No reply was offered so she left the room and closed the door softly behind her. Blake downed the remainder of the brandy in one swift motion. His father loved him? Barrett had seemed incapable of the emotion. All Blake remembered of his father was the subtle pressure to be better than everyone else, to be smarter, quicker, stronger, wealthier—only to see in his father’s eyes that he failed in every respect. He recalled the countless times he had come to his father, proud of some achievement, only to be rebuked because he had not succeeded in another endeavor. The constant striving toward perfection, knowing he could never reach it. That was the extent of the regard he had from Barrett Dylan. Love? If that was love, Blake could have well done without. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. The empty glass dangled from his hand. What was in the letters? Apparently something Sophia found important enough to save them for Blake. He rubbed his eyes wearily. In America, he had worked hard to become a success. Even that achievement went unnoticed by Barrett Dylan. The man had chosen the ultimate abandonment by dying before Blake could prove his merit—prove he was worth loving. “You always got the last laugh, sir. Looks like you got it again.” The inflection of the words—that defiant, hopeful tone only confrontations with his father could bring about—filled Blake’s ears. The sound suffocated him, humiliated him. He should have stopped caring long  - ago. He was weak. A weak fool who wanted his father’s approval and would never stop trying to earn it. He thought of Nicole’s admiration. Hurt welled up inside him, threatening to overcome him. Why had he never been able to glean the same pride from his father? What was the matter with him that his own father could not love him? The glow from the lamp on the desk shone across the ornately carved surface of the wooden chest and reminded Blake it once held a place of honor on his father’s dressing table next to a small oval painting of his mother. The box had always been locked. As a child Blake had believed that if he could look inside he would find some clue to the person his mother had been. Barrett certainly never spoke of her. And now the box was his. The mysteries it contained were his to discover. Never having considered himself a coward, Blake could not fathom why the thought of looking inside the chest induced a cold sweat. He had told Sophia he did not wish to hear anything more from his father. That was a lie. He wanted to learn that Sophia spoke the truth, that Barrett Dylan had loved him. But if the contents of the box were just another reaffirmation of all his old fears, what then? He stood and moved swiftly to the desk. The chest had seemed so much larger when he was a child, as though it contained all the magic and wonder of the world. Now he saw only a strongbox not quite two feet wide, a foot deep and a half a foot tall. The carved animals that adorned its surface held no grisly power. He touched the worn grooves near the lock as his father    must have done thousands of times during his life. With a wry smile, he traced the splintered wood around the tarnished lock. So Sophia had not found a key. Blake lifted the lid slightly. The scent of roses wafted into the air. He slammed the top closed, ashamed at the trembling of his hands. That smell. Memories of Phoenix Dylan were vague—impressions formed from birth to his fifth birthday. Though he could not remember her features, he would never forget the way she smelled. Not the pungent scent of hothouse roses—no, her perfume was the soft, elusive extract of wild English roses. He closed his eyes tightly. That last night she had come to his room. In the dimness she had seemed like an angel—her skin glowed white, her eyes shone. She had held him tightly and pressed his face into her neck. He had felt safe then, secure in her love. When she left him, the fresh, sweet fragrance lingered to lull him back to sleep. It did not last. It did not return. And Barrett Dylan refused to offer any explanation. Blake gripped the edge of the desk fiercely, willing the pain away. She had left behind an emptiness that could never be filled. She could have taught him how to love and to be loved, but instead she had disappeared from his life. Blake wondered if his father had felt the same tortured loneliness and if he had been unable to offer comfort to his son because he could not bear her loss himself. The vision came to Blake of Nicole’s soft mouth parted in a smile, her hair shining like moonlight. If he  - lost her, would he react as Barrett had? The answer pricked his conscience, forced him to face a possibility he had never thought to imagine. Blake knew with sudden clarity that the box held all that Barrett had left of his wife, Phoenix. Perhaps he had tried to protect Blake from the pain of her loss. He thought of his own avowal not to love anyone and realized the similarities were too close to the mark for comfort. If the father had expected perfection from the son, had not the son expected the same perfection from the father? And had they both not failed miserably? Because they were neither of them perfect. They were human, with frailties and insecurities. By expecting perfection, they had denied themselves any comfort they might have found in one another. Blake stumbled around the desk to slump into the chair. Arms heavy as lead, he reached for the box and slid it close to him. With a trembling sigh he opened the lid. As her fragrance surrounded him, Blake felt cool air touch his face. Salty rivulets ran into the corners of his lips. His awareness of them could not halt their flow—he was helpless to stop the hurt. For the first time since he was a child, Blake cried for the loss of his mother—and father.  Sound reverberated through the darkness, a deepthroated snarl followed by a snort, concluded by a low-pitched whistle. Nicki pressed her pillow closer to her ear, but the sound of Aunt Josey’s snores pierced the protective layer and set her teeth on edge. With what she felt to be admirable restraint, Nicki    slipped her foot across the linen sheets and kicked her aunt. Not too hard, just enough to interrupt the continuous pattern of noises coming from the woman. Aunt Josey jerked once then rolled over on to her side facing Nicki. Sighing in relief, Nicki replaced her pillow beneath her head and closed her eyes. “No! I… no… won’t do… just… damnation!” Nicki raised her head from the pillow and glared toward the woman in amazement. “Did you say something, Aunt?” “Won’t do!” Aunt Josey cried out and flopped on to her back again in a show of extreme impatience. Silence reigned for a few moments before a horrendous snore once again shattered the stillness. “Aunt?” Only a wheeze answered her inquiry. With scarcely contained impatience, Nicki threw back the coverlet and fought her feet free from the tangled covers. She sat up and dropped her legs over the edge of the bed, then glanced back to see if her tantrum had gained any results. Aunt Josey slumbered on, her mouth open, a steady rhythm of gurgles erupting with each released breath. Nicki slipped off the bed and immediately stumbled over the riding boots she had abandoned earlier. They had to be a sign. With determination, she pushed her bare feet inside the cold leather. The bandages Mina had wrapped about Nicki’s injured hands earlier in the evening made her clumsy, and the darkness of the room impeded her efforts further, but she eventually found an ermine lined cloak which she donned over her nightrail. Certain she could not possibly disturb her sleeping 00 - aunt, Nicki crossed the bedroom to the door and slipped into the hall. She closed the door with equal care and crept down the hall to the stairs, then down the steps to the dimly lit foyer. The house gave a groan, as though she had disturbed its rest. Nicki paused to listen for restless footsteps of a servant or guest. Silence. She turned toward the door, then paused. For the briefest instant, she could have sworn she heard music. Nicki glanced back down the hall, curious. Still no sound. Perhaps she truly had lost her mind. After all, was she not once again planning a late night trip to Rosewood to visit the earl? This time to elicit his aid. The idea came to Nicki like a bolt of bright light. Of course. She would take Blake a gift. Perhaps that would soften him to the proposal she intended to make. Holding her breath, she scurried down the dark hallway to the music salon. Weak light filtered through a crack in the heavy velvet curtains and aided Nicki’s journey across the room to the violin cabinet. Careful not to make a sound, she released the catch and retrieved the instrument and bow Blake had chosen to play. In the bottom of the cabinet she found a velvet lined box with indentations molded to fit the violin. She tucked the pieces into their molds, closed the lid, and fastened the catch before leaving the room. Nicki paused in the hall and once again listened to make certain no one was awake. Then she bolted for the front door, the violin case clutched to her chest. The chill air of the night crept up her nightrail, encasing her unprotected legs. Without stockings, the boots offered little protection from the cold. The folds of   0 her cloak hid her undergarment splendidly and provided some warmth. The night surrounded her in dense blackness. Dressed as she was, she dared not take the extra time to walk to Rosewood, but Nicki hated to bring a horse out into such a dark night. She debated on the wisdom of her mission during the trek to the stables. Her thoughts returned to the events of the day and she mulled over them carefully. She grinned wryly in the darkness. Mina would be proud that Nicki was taking the time to consider an action. No matter. Nicki remained steadfastly certain this was the only way. That she was unable to sleep proved she must solve this problem before she could be at peace. Apollo craned his sleek, graceful neck over the stall door to nicker softly as Nicki closed the stable door behind her. “So you are having a sleepless night as well? Then I shall allow you to accompany me on my excursion.” Nicki bridled the horse and led him out the back of the stables into the fields, just as she had done for as long as she could recall. She clutched the box in her arms as she urged Apollo across the fields to the north pasture, over the low fence, then through the forest to Rosewood—and Blake.  Smoke from one of the few cigars Blake allowed himself swirled before him, then dissipated in the slight breeze. The surrounding bushes rustled softly. Blake leaned back against the wrought iron garden 0 - bench as he attempted to clear his thoughts, but the contents of his father’s box continued to haunt his mind. Little had surprised him over the past few years. He had believed himself well accustomed to disappointment and human weakness. Somehow, he had thought himself nearly divested of that particular flaw. He had grown strong through adversity, never getting close enough to another human to disappoint them. He found it safer to take what he wanted and walk away. His father had kept abreast of his activities in America. The discovery should not have surprised him, but it did. At the top of the box had been more than a dozen brief notes from a detective agency apprising Barrett Dylan of his son’s well being. Blake got the impression his father had instructed the agency to notify him immediately if Blake ran into financial difficulty. A jolt of bittersweet pain swept through him. Barrett had cared. And he had known of his son’s success. If only Blake could somehow know whether his father had felt pride at those accomplishments—or disappointment because Blake had not needed him. Folded carefully beneath the detective’s missives had been fragile pages with well-worn creases that wove an unhappy tale. The events those much read letters told of pierced him to his very soul. They turned his parents from invincible, fairy tale characters to flesh and blood human beings with hearts that could be broken and bodies that could be shattered. A rustle at the edge of the garden brought Blake abruptly back from his musings. He stiffened and waited for the sound to reappear. A deer, he thought. Several more soft rustlings, then a resounding   0 crack not six feet from him allayed that thought. The ‘deer’ uttered a muffled “deuce take it” before scrambling to its feet. His heart tightened convulsively as he caught sight of pale hair tumbled in disarray. Nicole. Through the darkness he could barely make out her face as she glanced up at his bedroom window. “And I thought we would have no moon tonight.” Nicole cut off a squeal of alarm and spun to face him. “Blake? Whatever are you doing out here?” He refrained from smiling, though the sight of her encouraged such an action. “Heavy thoughts do not bode well for sleep. I assume you, too, must be plagued with some weighty problem.” She nodded and drew closer. Blake spied the flash of a white nightrail as she walked toward him. He shook his head in amazement. Hopeless. Nicole sat on her knees on the iron bench so she could face him. He noted that the front of her cloak stuck out at an odd angle, as though she held something in her arms. Her eyes were large on her pale face. “I do indeed have a problem.” “So you waited until all were abed and came to me.” Her teeth worried her lower lip. “Actually, no. You are the person I came to, but it was not because I could not sleep. Well, I suppose part of why I am here is because Aunt Josey was snoring. But you seem to be the person I look to first when I am troubled.” Blake digested this tangle of words as he flicked the excess ashes off the end of his cheroot. “Would you like me to smack her with a pillow?” She drew back slightly. “What did you say?” “You said you came to me with a problem and your aunt was snoring. I assume that is your problem. I am 0 - not familiar with the correct procedure, but I am certain a good, sound whack with a pillow should do the trick.” “I certainly do not want you to whack my aunt with a pillow!” “Well, you obviously could not take care of the problem or you would not be here. I think it ungrateful of you to take offense at my suggestion.” Nicole shook her head in exasperation. “You have the unattractive habit of flustering me and then making jest of me! Aunt Josey’s snoring awakened me and I could not get her to be silent so I got up and tripped over my boots. It was then I realized I should come here since I was awake. Now do you see?” “The way becomes clearer. I admit I am relieved I do not have to accost your aunt. I am already unpopular with most of the members of your family. I should dislike alienating yet another.” She grinned. “Shelby likes you very much.” “Ah, the innocence of children.” “Aunt Josey thinks you a fine catch.” He shook his head sadly. “The eccentricity of the elderly.” “And I think you are wonderful.” “I have not yet discovered the exact nature of your malady.” Nicole leaned forward and rearranged her bundle so she could take his hand. “Today, when I thought you might have had something to do with harming the horses, it nearly broke my heart. I was wrong to doubt you, even for that briefest of moments.” Blake tossed his cheroot into the darkness and pressed his newly freed hand over Nicole’s. His fingers traced the bandages tenderly. “You were right not to   0 trust me. If you begin to believe in me, it can only lead to your disillusionment.” “I will take that chance. Neither you nor anyone else will change my mind.” He looked into the wide-eyed innocence of her face and realized she had no inkling of how very wrong she was. “You came here for my assistance. It is very late, too late for you to be gadding about.” “Papa plans to leave at once to personally deliver the news about the horses to the buyers. Oh, Blake, is there not something we can do? If he does not come through on the obligations for those horses, his reputation will be ruined. Papa will never tell them that he was the victim of a cruel deed. The buyers are certain to believe we have weak horses. The word will spread that our horses are sickly. No one wants to buy an animal that might die or become ill.” Blake released her hand to reach up and wipe her tears. “Your father is a man full grown, Nicole. He will do what he must.” She drew back from his touch, her frustration crackling in the air between them. “No! This is not his fault. Our horses are the finest in all of England! But if he goes through with his plan, we will not be able to sell another horse. We shall be ruined.” “We? You are to be my wife in a week’s time. Your father’s business is his own.” Nicole sat up straighter, her tears stilled. “Then you refuse to offer any suggestions?” “Nicole…” “If you refuse to help him, it is the same as if you had performed the deed yourself. You will benefit from another’s heinous actions by doing nothing. He 0 - shall be ruined. But then that was your intent all along, was it not?” Blake froze. Her gaze held his and her mouth tightened until he knew she must have been gritting her teeth. The enormity of what he was about to say stunned him, but he knew he could not deny her. “Very well. Give me a little time. Delay your father’s departure as long as you can.” Her face transformed, and Blake could not hold back a smile at her joy. “Thank you,” she murmured, suddenly pensive. “What troubles you now?” Nicki withdrew a narrow wooden box from beneath her cloak. “I meant to give you this before begging you for favors.” Blake received the box, then rested it on his thighs and flipped the clasp. For the second time tonight, he opened Pandora’s Box. In more ways than one. When he saw the contents, a strange constraint grasped his chest. The violin. “This is much too valuable.” He could not bring himself to look into her eyes. In fact, he seemed to have something in his eye that burned. Blake rubbed at the offending irritation until the sensation subsided. “It is a shame for an instrument to lie idle and silent when it belongs in the hands of one who can fill the world with its beautiful music.” Her words whispered around him, weaving a web of silken pleasure. “Thank you, Nicole.” He set the box aside, reached for her hand, and brought her chilled fingers to his lips. Tenderly, one by one, he kissed the tips. He met her gaze, startled to   0 find tears shimmering once again. She threw herself into his arms and planted a kiss on his cheek. With her added weight pushing him back, the bench tipped dangerously, forcing Blake to grab hold of Nicole and lean sharply forward to right them. From where she had come to rest with her arms about his neck, her back against his thighs, Nicole gazed up at into his face. “I did not give you the gift to bribe you. It is not payment enough for what you have agreed to do. And you need not thank me. The look on your face is thanks enough.” He bent to brush her lips with his mouth. The gesture released a hot coil of desire in the pit of his stomach. “Are you some magical creature that I can deny you nothing?” “No. I am only a woman, soon to be your wife. I will make this up to you. I will make you happy, Blake. I swear it.” Blake tightened his arms about her convulsively and kissed her again. Her satin smooth lips parted beneath his mouth and he drew the sweetness of her breath into his lungs, as though the purity of her could somehow cleanse his soul. Slowly, careful not to frighten her, he slipped one hand inside her cloak. The heat of her skin burned into his hand through the thin linen of her nightrail. Blake traced each rib along her side to the underside of her breast. He felt the subtle trembling of her body beneath his touch. Like the perfection of a violin in his hands, Nicole moaned softly against his mouth. The sound filled his mind with the most lyrical music he had ever heard. It 0 - reminded him of her innocence. He broke off the kiss, instead pressing his lips to her forehead. The harsh beat of his heart, the tightness in his groin, demanded that he carry her inside to finish this once and for all—to take what would be his in a few short days, thus binding her to him forever. His mind took control and Blake slid his hand around to her back to clutch her against his chest. She snuggled closer. So sweet. So trusting. He buried his face in the silk of her hair. The scent of wild roses surrounded him, filled his head. He closed his eyes tightly, willing the memories away. Nicole was different from his mother. If he let her, she would love him and she would stay to teach him to love her. He reached his hand into the tangled thickness of her pale hair and cupped the back of her head in his hand. So fragile, yet beneath the surface lay strength and tenderness and passion. The blackness of his heart cried that she was Langley’s daughter. But further inside, deep beneath that darkness, a faint light flickered to life
 Chapter 16 
Nicki craned her neck slightly to see around the broad shoulder of Percival—or Carlton—she could not tell the difference between them. Across the sitting room, Blake leaned against the fireplace mantle with a glass in one hand, his other hand on his hip. He nodded as he listened intently to the short, balding gentleman at his side. Nicki thought how dangerously handsome he looked in his evening clothes. The dark of his tan against his white cravat; his raven hair swept back from his forehead with the slightest wave, somewhat longer than the style seemed to warrant—he was a magnificent predatory cat amongst London’s finest kittens. She chewed her lower lip in frustration. Angelica had skillfully arranged their day so they had passed only the briefest greeting before they were whisked off to separate entertainments. Somehow they had managed to be seated at opposite ends of the dinner table. Nicki desperately needed to speak with him, and she did not relish sneaking out of the house again. There were just too many eyes that might not be sleeping when they should be. 0 - “And I was just saying how I had suddenly sprouted horns and accidentally gored my dancing partner.” Nicki watched Blake greet a silver-haired man who joined in the conversation. “Of course, how nice for you,” she murmured. Low laughter startled Nicki into looking up into the face of… Percival. This twin was Percival. She recalled that he dressed more outrageously than his brother. “Blake is a lucky man.” She flushed. “I fear I am a bit distracted. Please forgive my rudeness.” He grinned charmingly. “I and my bruised pride forgive you. I’m happy for Blake. He’s had a hard time of it and he deserves someone like you.” “Like me? If he needed someone to strain his patience to the limits, then he has found her.” “I can tell by the way you look at him that you care for him.” Nicki’s heart gave a lurch as Blake’s gaze caught hers. “I care,” she said softly. “That’s all I could hope for.” “You were good friends?” Percival moved slightly, blocking the topic of their conversation from her view with a shoulder clothed in indigo blue. “We went to school together. Blake was ever the brilliant one, finishing his assignments on time, yet still finding time to play. We were all extremely jealous of him.” “Are you attempting to steal my bride-to-be, Percy? Or merely scare her off with boring tales.” Blake came around Percival to stand next to Nicki. Percival’s hazel eyes sparkled. “She’s worth stealing, but I think it would be an impossible venture on my    part. Besides, I spoke only the truth.” Nicki met Blake’s unreadable gaze for a long moment before he turned to his friend. “Good. I should hate to have to kill you in a duel.” “I shouldn’t like that much either.” Nicki slipped her hand into the crook of Blake’s arm. “Both of you are talking nonsense. I am not worth killing or dying for.” Percival and the earl shared a look and Blake arched a brow. “That is a matter of opinion, I suppose. By the bye, Perc, where is that brother of yours?” “Avoiding you, I should think. He lost £100 pounds to you at the whist tables this afternoon, I understand.” That response earned one of Blake’s rare smiles. “I learned long ago that collecting a debt from Carl is like asking the moon to appear on a dark night. Sometimes it will—but it is generally a pleasant surprise when it does. If you see him, tell him I shall take my winnings in trade. That was a fine weapon he used in our fencing contest. It should just about cover his debt.” “I’ll tell him. And now, if you will excuse me, I think Lady Nicole’s sister owes me a dance.” Nicki watched Percival disappear into the crowd, then pulled Blake into the small alcove behind them. “I thought we should never get any time alone!” Blake bent his head closer to her ear. “We need to be much more alone before I can kiss you.” “You are hopeless!” She tried to snatch her hand away from his arm, but the earl anticipated her reaction and covered it with his. “I have heard that I am hopeless, but I thought you believed differently.”  - She grudgingly answered his tease with a smile as she wished he could be so carefree more often. “You know I do. But as nice as your kisses are, I had weightier things on my mind. Have you thought of a solution for Papa? I had the very devil of a time getting him to agree to put off leaving until day after tomorrow.” “That is not much time, but I believe it shall be sufficient.” With a quick glance to insure those nearby paid them no mind, Nicki clapped her hands together lightly. If she had thought it would go unnoticed she would have flung her arms about the earl’s neck. “So you have a plan! I knew I could depend on you. What have you decided to do?” “That, my dear, is none of your affair. You will just have to trust me.” “Blake Dylan, I have proven my trust in you time and again. Now tell me how you are going to save us from ruin!” He tipped her chin up with one finger. “There you go again, lumping yourself in with your father, and it sounded for a moment as if you had added me to the pot as well. I am doing this for you and you alone. If you had not come to me, I would have let your father grovel at the feet of every person in England. Is that understood?” The swiftness of his anger caught her off guard. “But—” “There is no ‘but,’ Nicole! I will help your father this last time. I have already agreed to much more than I can readily stomach. If you should ask me anything more I will have to refuse you, no matter how much it would pain you.”    Tears started in her eyes. “Why must you do this? Can you not forget the past?” His face stiffened into the hard mask she had come to dread. “What drives me is my own affair—and I will never forget the past, or forgive. Not even for you, Nicole. You had best accept that fact or you are destined to be disappointed time and again.” Desperately, she clung to her ideals, no matter how strongly Blake determined to strip them from her, though it became more difficult with each harsh word he uttered. He had come through for her in every regard thus far. If he wanted to believe he was the same person he had been before she entered his life, then he could do so. But it was he who would be disappointed. Because even as he spoke of never letting go of the past, Nicki felt him leave it behind a little bit each moment they spent together. And she hoped she had something to do with that. If she listened to him, she could lose faith in him, faith she knew in her heart to be justified. So she would not listen. She would trust in her heart, and soon Blake would, too. “You are not working up to making a scene?” Nicki raised her face to his and summoned her brightest smile. “I think I should like to dance, Lord Diamond. You know you are a glorious dancer.” Blake watched her suspiciously for several moments. “There you go complimenting me again. I think it is you who are hopeless, my dear.” She took his arm and pulled him toward the door. Blake quickly took control, his strength slowing her stride into a more sedate pace. “Yes, I suppose I am.” In love, she added silently.  - His smile was tentative; suspicion still hovered at the edges. Let him wonder. Someday, he would be ready to hear the words aloud, but not yet. No, not yet.  “I am the daughter of your father’s second cousin’s aunt!” The words were shouted over the sound of a duet being performed rather exuberantly on the pianoforte across the room. Nicki digested the information carefully, and silently wished she could poke Angelica with a pin for once again whisking Blake away. “You said your name is Cecilia?” she asked politely. “Yes!” The girl’s blush deepened to an alarming purple as the music came to a halt. She swallowed and lowered her voice. “Yes. It is such a momentous pleasure to meet you. It gives me the shivers just thinking of your romance with the Earl of Diamond. Just like a Byron poem.” “I am amazed you and your family were able to travel from Scotland so quickly.” Nicki retrieved her fan, hung from a fragile cord at her wrist, and snapped it open. The candles, chandeliers, and fires combined with the volume of people had given the music room the humidity of a hothouse. The delicate fan, designed more for use in flirting, only managed to stir the humid, cologne saturated air. “It just so happened that the Whites were having a large family gathering at your Aunt Josey’s estate. When the invitation arrived, she insisted we all come with her to the wedding.”    Nicki stifled a smile. That was just like Aunt Josey, not to give a thought to bringing a houseful of people to her brother’s home. “I am glad you could come. We might never have met otherwise, with you living in Scotland.” Cecilia opened her own fan and wielded it with alarming ferocity. “We have a home in London also. It will be my third Season this year. My younger sister married just last year after her first Season. I am certain my youngest sister will be equally successful this year when she comes out. I envy you very much.” A flash of pity overwhelmed Nicki. She took in the girl’s chestnut hair crimped into tight curls that bounced about her face in the breeze from the fan and resembled miniature sausages. The dress, though very similar to Nicki’s in design, did not suit Cecilia’s shorter, more robust figure. Blake’s words came to mind. The Marriage Mart. She was suddenly relieved she did not have to go through the humiliation of attracting an appropriate suitor. “Perhaps the right man for you will appear just when you least expect him. After all—I had never expected to meet the earl.” “But you are so beautiful. He must have been swept off his feet the moment he saw you.” The memory of standing in the darkness of Blake’s bedchamber clothed in trousers slipped into her mind’s eye. “I do not believe it was my beauty, but I suppose he did lose his balance at our meeting. I am not quite certain he has yet recovered.” “There, you see? So romantic. It is every girl’s dream that not only will she find the right man, but that he be handsome and noble of birth and character.”  - Nicki placed her hand on Cecilia’s wrist, staying the frantic movement of the silk fan. “I am certainly no expert on the subject of husband catching, but perhaps you might try to be yourself. Blending in with the crowds of other girls in your position seems a futile effort when you obviously have a very strong presence of your own. Just look at that lovely bone structure, and you have such a long slender neck. My—Angelica has always said that a woman’s hair compliments her face, but should never hide it. And colors are as important as breathing. Pastels may be fine and proper for some, but I think you have the natural vitality suited to more vibrant hues. The colors of fall, I should think.” “My mother and sisters are very fair, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Dutch heritage, you know. But I have my father’s coloring. A Scot to the bone. I think Ma dresses me to suit her tastes, though she means no harm.” “Of course she means no harm. That is a magnificent gown.” Nicki folded her fan closed and tapped the lacquered frame against her lips thoughtfully. “You know, the last shipment of gowns Angelica ordered from London contained several that must have been included by mistake. Angelica had thought to return them, but it seemed a great deal of trouble since she had paid for them. She decided to attempt alterations, but I do not think she ever has. Tomorrow morning, meet me at my room and we will go up to the attic and have a look. I think the colors would suit you nicely.” Cecilia’s brown eyes glowed, then she sighed. “I dare not impose on your kindness.” “Nonsense. And when we have you dressed in the appropriate colors, I shall have my Lucy take control    of your hair. She is truly a wizard. It takes a great deal of skill to tame my curls, I assure you.” The two shared laughter, and it surprised Nicki at the feeling of easy companionship she felt toward this girl. “You are just being kind. Your hair is like spun moonlight. The earl must truly feel he is blessed.” Nicki nibbled at her lower lip. She did not know how the earl felt because he was too good at hiding his every emotion. “I—” “Did someone say I was cursed?” Cecilia let out a gasp, and Nicki turned from the girl’s horrified face to glare at Blake. “I think the word was blessed, my lord. Blake Dylan, may I present Cecilia White, my cousin. Cecilia, my fiancé, the Earl of Diamond.” Blake took the girl’s limp hand lightly and bent in a courtly bow. “Miss White.” “Lord Diamond… I… I was just saying how happy you must be… to have a girl a… as lovely and sweet as Nicole.” He slanted a glance at Nicki, his pale eyes sparking with suppressed deviltry. “Lady Nicole is truly a prize of inestimable value.” “Cecilia’s family will be in London this Season. I did not have a chance to tell her that we shall be there as well, for Mina’s first Season.” Some of the dark color faded from the girl’s cheeks at Nicki’s words. “Then I shall have something to look forward to this year.” “As the Countess of Diamond, Nicole shall be very busy…” “But I shall have more than enough time to spend with my sister and cousin. And we will have grand  - times together. I have never spent a Season in London, and I look forward to the experience.” Blake’s glance lost its fire, turning cold and unreadable. “As a married woman, your obligations shall be quite different from those of an unmarried girl.” “Of course. I shall be their chaperon.” “And who will chaperon you, my dear?” Nicki struggled to maintain her composure, but the heat of anger rose up her neck despite her valiant efforts. “I am quite capable of managing myself, my lord, and I refuse to be coddled and fussed over and… and bullied!” “It astounds the imagination when I think of the trouble you could find if left to your own devices in London. You will not leave our home without a suitable escort…” “Uh-oh my… uh, look… its my mother motioning for me. It was a pleasure to meet you both.” Nicki turned to Cecilia in surprise. “Do not forget our meeting in the morning. I am so looking forward to it.” “I am, too.” Cecilia’s eyes appeared to have widened to twice their normal size. She dropped into a brief curtsy, or her legs buckled, Nicki could not quite be certain. “My lord.” As the girl rushed into the crowd, Nicki returned to Blake. “How dare you behave so boorishly in front of my best friend!” “I thought she was your cousin.” “I do not care if she was the Prince of Wales, I think you should apologize to me for your behavior.” Blake’s color seemed much darker than normal. “If    you think for one moment that I did not mean every word I said, you are mistaken!” “This grows extremely tiresome.” Nicki and Blake turned in unison to Angelica’s icy intonation. “Angelica. What a pleasure. I believe I have seen more of you tonight than I have since returning to England,” Blake offered dryly. Though her eyes glittered, Angelica maintained a deceptively conversational mien. “I grow weary of making excuses for the two of you, when what I really should be saying is that you are both completely insane! What on earth did you say to send that poor girl off in such a state?” Nicki snapped her mouth shut mutinously. Let Blake explain away. She would never have introduced him to poor Cecilia if she had known he would behave so high-handedly. Whatever was the matter with him? “Please accept my apologies, Angelica. My nerves have been somewhat on edge. I usually have more self-control. As for Nicole…” He glanced at Nicki, his silver eyes dancing wickedly. “She is hopelessly insane.” “You arrogant, conceited—” “Nicole! If you care nothing for your own reputation, at least think of your father. These people are his friends and family. I, for one. believe he has suffered enough humiliation to last him a lifetime.” She was doing it again—that inexorable power of will that no one could resist. “I am sorry, too.” Nicki glared at Blake. “For a couple about to be wed in a few days, you behave a good deal like spoiled children.” “And this particular brat owes me two dances. I 0 - have come to collect the debt,” interposed Teddy’s voice, filled with suppressed laughter. “I was just thinking the same thing, Teddy.” With a pointed glance at Blake and a sweet smile for Angelica, Nicki took Teddy’s hand and allowed herself to be lead onto the dance floor.  “I was curious about something.” Nicki hooked her arm in Teddy’s and they turned once, then reversed. “What is it?” Teddy’s answer waited as they backed away from each other and the lead couple danced down the aisle created by the dancers. When they came together again he leaned close to her ear. “How you can allow this engagement to continue after what Dylan has done!” Alarm at the force of his sudden anger stiffened her movements. “And what, pray tell, has he done?” “Good God, girl, are you so blind? He killed your horses. You heard Andrew. The earl’s man was the only stranger about the place.” “You are mistaken.” Nicki struggled to concentrate on the turns. “Blake had nothing to do with that gruesome incident.” Teddy glanced about before dancing her through several lines of couples and toward the open balcony doors. Moments later, they moved hand-in-hand down the steps of the veranda to the graveled path leading through the stark winter garden. At the small summerhouse not far from the Hall, Teddy stopped and took Nicki’s shoulders in his hands. She shivered, not certain if it was from the chill    in the air or the fury that added a bitter hardness to Teddy’s features even the incandescent glow of the moon could not disguise. “What hold does he have over you that you should defend him even in this?” Nicki tried to pull away, but his hold was too strong. “I know him, Teddy, and he is not capable of such actions.” As though with a supreme act of will, Teddy softened. “If not he, then who? Who else has any motive for destroying your father’s animals? There is no one else, Nicki. You must accept what he is and demand your freedom.” “No! I have no clue who is the guilty party, but I am positive it was not Blake.” “Did he tell you he did not do it?” Nicki jerked her arms away to wrap them about her body. It was a defensive gesture. She wished she could say that Blake had denied everything, had justified his actions and reassured her of his innocence. But he had not, and she could not lie. She shook her head. Teddy reached for her again, but Nicki flinched away. He sighed. “Your blind faith is commendable, but undeserved where this man is concerned. He’ll use you to destroy your father. What will you do then? I know you. In using you as his instrument of destruction, he’ll crush you as well. Will you allow that to happen?” Nicki spun from the words, staring miserably into the darkness. Neither the soft chirping of a night bird nor muffled strains of orchestra music drifting hauntingly through the night could lighten her heart. “If I thought he was hurting Papa in any way I would not stand by and allow it to happen.”  - “How will you stop him? You could not prevent what has already happened.” Cool air turned the tears on her cheeks to ice water, and she wiped at them impatiently. “I could not prevent it because it was not Blake. I will find out who is responsible, and they will pay for what they have done.” Teddy took her upper arm and pulled her around to face him. “This foolish adulation must cease! You know there is no one else who would wish to hurt your father. Only Dylan. Somehow he has charmed you into believing he is something he’s not.” “I want to help him. He has been hurt so badly—that was the reason for his actions in the past. With my support, he can overcome his anger.” Nicki glanced back toward the lights, longing to return to the warmth and comfort of the house. “You do not know him as I do.” “Still so naive. He has no intention of forgiving or forgetting. His anger won’t be appeased until he’s ruined every last one of us.” Her shivering halted and Nicki looked up at Teddy sharply. “Us? Whatever is this absurd mystery? Blake says I must ask Papa. Papa says I must ask Blake. And now you hint that you are aware of whatever it is Blake must avenge, and are somehow involved. Please tell me!” “I agree with your father. Blake must be the one to tell you.” “Men! Must you all be so close-mouthed about things?” Teddy released her and stepped back, his face guarded. “It’s a delicate matter. It would be inappropriate for me to speak of it.” “Nonsense! You have never stood on ceremony    with me, Teddy. Why should you begin now?” One corner of his mouth lifted in a melancholy grin. “Because you became engaged to another.” Her heart shrank from the pain in his voice. Teddy was her friend. She hated hurting him, but deep in her soul she knew she could not chose him over Blake. He should quickly learn the love of childhood had not survived to adulthood. She loved Blake, perhaps foolishly and hopelessly, but with all her being nonetheless. “I shall add you to my list of those I would convince that Blake is a kind and decent man.” “And is Blake on that list as well?” Cold wind swept around her body and she wrapped her arms tightly about herself. “As a matter of fact, he is at the top.”  Blake’s hands tightened on the rail. The night, black and starless, seemed to have swallowed Nicole and Teddy. The chill of the air did little to cool the red-hot fury that coursed through him. It brought to mind the wispy Grecian gown Nicole wore. She would freeze. That is—unless she had someone to warm her. Damn Bartholomew. “What brings you out into this ghastly night, nephew?” He awaited Sophia’s approach before returning to his vigil over the garden. Carefully, he schooled his features into the familiar mask of indifference. “Curiosity draws me outside.” She paused at his side and her gaze, so similar to  - his own, searched the meticulously pruned evergreens amidst the bare branches of other shrubbery. “I wasn’t aware you had a taste for gardening.” “Not normally. But tonight there is a single rose I have a particular interest in.” “Ah. Might we be speaking of a certain wild rose who has cracked the surface of the diamond?” He slanted her a wry grin. “Scratched, perhaps. Roses do have thorns, you know. But I would prefer discussing another topic.” Sophia turned to rest her lower back against the rail. “I hope your melancholy turn of mind is not due to the contents of the box. I read only the first few letters and believed the contents would please you. Barrett was such an undemonstrative man. The letters proved he was concerned for you.” Blake tensed. “The contents of the box are something I shall deal with in my own time, in my own way. You needn’t worry about me.” “Someone must. I once thought you should have been my son, and Harry should have been Barrett’s. Harry would have been much better suited to my brother’s coldness.” That earned a surprised glance. “Why, Sophia, I am flattered to learn you think so highly of me.” “I once did. I am not certain Barrett did not spoil all that was good in you. You remind me of him so strongly at times; then at others, it is like seeing a shadow of Phoenix. I think it is at those times that I care for you most.” “You knew my mother well?” Sophia’s gaze reflected the bright light filtering from the ballroom. She smiled softly. “She was my closest    friend. That is how she met Barrett. At first he thought her a horrible nuisance. He was somewhat older and thought me and my friends to be nothing more than silly children.” “What was she like? I remember so little of her.” “Her parents were quite unusual. They traveled a great deal and settled in London for Phoenix’s first Season. She had the most beautiful laughter—like a music box. And she laughed often. How she adored life! Barrett was so serious. When she told me she had decided she would marry him, I could not hide my surprise. How could someone with such joy and vitality wish to spend their life with a person who was their complete opposite? But if Phoenix was anything, it was determined. I watched in amazement as she skillfully drew my brother to her, like a moth to flame. When he was with her, he was a different person. He smiled and joined in any shenanigan she plotted. She made him exquisitely happy.” Blake’s chest tightened until he thought he could not breathe. “She sang to me. It was like magic.” Sophia covered Blake’s hand where it clenched the railing. “She was magical, Blake. It was a tragedy to lose her.” He stared into the darkness and struggled to remember. “I was so young when she went away. All I have left are feelings—images. Nothing substantial that I can call to mind.” “I often thought that Phoenix was like a sprite, flitting this way and that. Perhaps you do not have a solid image because she could not leave one. When I think of Phoenix, I am reminded that when she was in a room, there was not a face that did not smile.”  - Blake dropped his head back to stare into the ink black sky. “You could almost be describing Nicole.” “I suppose I could be. She certainly has that same vibrancy.” “She came out here with Teddy, and I followed. He is her friend and I want to think he would never purposefully hurt her, but…” “But you are jealous and protective. It is perfectly natural, Blake.” He released the rail, turned, and strode toward the glass doors. Sophia caught up to him and placed a restraining hand on his arm. He glanced down at her impatiently. “It is not natural. Those emotions would mean that I care for her. I refuse to allow myself to fall into that trap.” “What trap, Blake? Loving someone is not a trap!” He turned slightly, just enough to cause her hand to drop from his sleeve. “To me it is. And I will not fall into it again.” “But you are marrying her. How can you spend the rest of your life with a woman you refuse to love?” “That, Sophia, is none of your business. I think I have bared my soul enough for one night. Good God, enough for the rest of my days. If you should see Nicole, tell her I await her in the drawing room.” Sophia nodded wordlessly. He could see he had hurt her with his anger. Well, it served her right—dredging up memories best left in the past, making him want something that could never be his. He turned from her and strode into the brilliant noise of the ballroom.     Nicki found Blake once again lounging against the mantle of the fireplace. But this time a young girl stood at his side, her face turned up to his in blatant adoration. Deuce take it. She set her jaw in determination and approached the pair. “Wonderful evening, is it not? Have we met? I am Nicki Langley, the earl’s fiancée.” Lovely cornflower blue eyes widened in a heart shaped face framed by short curls the color of ripe wheat. Nicki disliked the girl immediately. “With so many people here, we have not been formally introduced. I saw you speaking with Cecilia earlier. I am Catherine, her youngest sister.” Nicki’s sympathy for Cecilia’s plight deepened. “Of course. You are to have your coming out this year. My sister, Wilhemina, shall have her first Season as well. Have you met Mina?” “No. I don’t believe I have.” Surveying the room, Nicki nodded in the direction of the door. “There she is now. The dark-haired girl just leaving the room. If you hurry you can catch her up. The two of you should have a great deal to talk about.” Catherine followed Nicki’s gaze dubiously. “Well… I… of course. It was a pleasure meeting you both.” “Likewise,” said Nicki. As the girl struck out in search of “a dark-haired girl” Nicki turned her full attention to the earl. “I cannot leave you alone for a moment!” Blake arched one dark brow. “I do not believe I was the one venturing into the garden with Bartholomew.”  - “Oh, that. He had not been able to speak with me and wanted a private word. It was harmless.” “As was my discussion of Byron with Miss White.” Nicki grimaced. “Byron? She Walks in Moonlight is one of Mina’s favorites. I suppose it is rather romantic and all.” He eyed her strangely. “I suppose it is.” “Please tell me you are not jealous of Teddy. I promise you I think of him only as a friend.” “I am not jealous by any means. I was merely concerned about appearances. It is not at all the thing for you to go off alone into the darkness without a cloak, and to stay gone for close to half an hour.” “You were jealous!” She smiled with pleasure. Blake scowled as he turned to set his champagne glass on the mantle with a sharp thunk. “I have not a jealous bone in my body.” She cocked her head slightly to survey him. “I suppose you do not. I merely thought that since I intensely disliked Catherine speaking with you, that perhaps you felt the same about another man speaking with me. Foolish of me.” “Exactly so. And you need not be jealous of any other woman. I quite have my hands full with you.” A shriek from the opposite end of the room interrupted Nicki’s next reply. She turned to see Grampa Giles clearing a path through the mob of people with his cane. He swung the stick with such vigor that one lady did not have time to make her escape. She kicked desperately at the offending object, but it appeared to have become quite firmly entrenched in the hem of her gown. The more she struggled, the more agitated Grampa Giles became, and the higher her skirts raised.    Teddy, standing nearby, hurried forward and knelt at the lady’s feet. With deft efficiency, he removed the tip of the cane from the thread at the hem of the gown. He rose, his cheeks flaming. “You should be more careful with that thing, Giles!” Grampa ignored him and continued on his way. Obviously, his objective was the draperies. Nicki leaned toward Blake. “Mina said he has caused quite a good deal of trouble. It seems he has not been the same since the Napoleonic wars. He feels it his duty to prod about every room he enters to ensure the enemy is not hiding. He broke several of Angelica’s figurines when he thought he had someone cornered under a table. It turned out to be his shadow.” “How disappointing.” “Yes.” Nicki winced as Grampa moved along the curtains, his cane smacking the wall. He appeared concerned when he realized he had moved behind two wingback chairs. With surprising quickness, he leaped forward and shoved the cane beneath the seat of one of the chairs. The lady seated on the chair let out a startled “Oh!” and threw her feet up into the air. The sudden movement and the lady’s generous girth caused the chair to tip backwards, pinning Grampa Giles to the curtained window. Blake surged forward. Nicki followed close behind. Several people stood about indecisively, but it was Teddy who came forward to attempt to move the chair off Grampa. With the wildly flailing movements of the woman sending the piece of furniture jerking this way and that, he had his hands full. “Excuse me. Coming through!” Blake quickly 0 - moved opposite Teddy and together they lowered the chair to the floor. Grampa lost his footing, and the cane went crashing to the floor. Blake caught his arm and held on until the man had gained his balance. Nicki rushed forward to retrieve the cane. The eagle’s head had broken off. She scrambled close to the chair and reached beneath it to retrieve the silver top. “This man should be watched more closely, before he harms someone seriously!” Snapped a breathless Teddy. Nicki quickly got to her feet and pressed her friend’s arm warningly. “It was merely a harmless mishap. All is put to rights now.” “Exactly right,” Blake agreed. Teddy’s face had gone beyond flushed to an alarming red hue. “Giles has become a nuisance. Josey should keep him in his room.” Her own cheeks growing warm, Nicki glanced uncomfortably toward Grampa Giles. The old man stood very still, his sharp gaze fastened on Teddy. “You are over excited, Teddy, and I think you should be quiet,” Nicki said firmly. “Over excited! The pair of them nearly went through the window!” Blake entered the conversation with his normal superciliousness. “But they did not, and I agree with Nicole that it would be wise to shut your mouth.” “Please!” Nicki positioned herself firmly between Blake and Teddy. “Grampa, your cane is broken. Will you come with me and we shall see if we can repair it?” Head bowed dejectedly, Grampa waved his hand in what Nicki took to be acquiescence. He leaned heavily    on Blake’s arm as they started through the room. Nicki glared at Teddy as she passed, giving him what she hoped was her best ‘I hope you are happy’ look. In the hall, Blake nodded toward her father’s study. “Is anyone in there?” She shook her head and led the way. “Grampa, you and Blake wait in here and I will retrieve one of Em’s concoctions to repair your cane.” Blake met Nicki’s gaze as he helped the frail old man to the couch. “We shall wait for you here, my dear.” With a nod, Nicki left the pieces of the broken cane on her father’s cluttered desk and hurried off to the kitchen.  Grampa was gone from the couch! Nicki’s gaze went from Blake, seated at the desk fiddling with the cane, to survey the dim room. With relief, she saw the old man had replaced his missing walking stick with a fireplace poker and continued his explorations. From the extent of the black marks about the room, he was making splendid progress. Angelica would be livid. “I have just the thing, my lord. Em prepared a paste.” Blake glanced up and reached for the jar. “Excellent. The fit is actually quite tight. This should do the trick.” She watched his strong hands move with confidence in applying the paste with the wooden spoon Em had left in the jar. The concoction began to run and Blake searched the desk, grabbing a piece of blank foolscap to wipe up the run. But Nicki no longer followed his actions.  - Lying open on the desk was her father’s journal containing entries relating to the current year’s projected profits. To the right of the open book was a note she had written to her father. And beneath that her report for breeding the horses currently in the stables, as well as the new breed of stock she intended on acquiring with the funds from the sale of the youngsters. As though she had just entered a horrible dream, Nicki looked at Blake, but he had not noticed the direction of her gaze, so intent was he in twisting the eagle’s head atop the wooden stick. Doubt washed over her. Had he been reviewing the paper work? Dear Lord, had she handed him the final information he needed to ruin her father? Blake tested the strength of the glue and seemed satisfied. “Your Em is brilliant. All fixed, Grampa.” He stood and Nicki stepped back to allow him room to pass. Her arms hung at her sides like twin pillars of stone. She wanted nothing more than to awaken from this nightmare. Shifting the cane to his right hand, Blake paused to lift her chin. “Is something the matter?” Speechless, she shook her head. Blake continued on, but glanced back at her once more as he carried the cane to Grampa. Nicki wished she could move, speak… something. But her heart had shattered into tiny fragments. And no amount of Em’s glue would put it back together.    
Chapter 17
 Nicki entered the breakfast room, relieved to find it deserted at this early hour. Several servants quietly and efficiently filled silver dishes with poached salmon, capers, ham, eggs, and other delicacies. The aroma set her mouth to watering, but she passed by the heavier fare aimed at the male guests and instead retrieved a currant roll and a cup of tea laced liberally with sugar. The long table had been set with silver and napkins. Nicki took a seat at the farthest end near the window. Solitude. Blake had promised to reveal his plan to help her father today. She sipped the hot tea, but the sweetness turned bitter in her mouth as she remembered the scene in her father’s library last night. Surely the earl would not agree to help in one emergency while plotting another, but Nicki little understood the emotions that drove the male species. Nicki broke off a piece of the roll as she waged an internal war against her growing loyalty to Blake. Though her mind stalwartly insisted she must tell her father Blake had been in his study—he had had the  - opportunity to review the books—her heart argued that she could not be certain Blake had read the pages. He had certainly been intent on Grampa’s cane when she entered the room. But what if he had read the journal and her report? If Nicki remained silent and another catastrophe occurred, would she not become an accomplice in destroying the business she and her father had poured their life’s blood into for the past ten years? She took another sip of tea to dissipate the lump that formed in her throat. She could be destroying any chance of a reconciliation between the two men she loved most in the world. Nicki quickly set the cup back into the saucer. Her actions sloshed tea over the rim. She buried her face in her hands. Last night, while struggling to fall asleep, she had come to terms with the reality that she had no choices left open. Her first loyalty must be to her father. Though Blake himself had told her repeatedly she should not trust him, Nicki had discerned what he left unsaid. He wanted her to trust him. No. Not wanted. Needed. Nicki sensed that deep inside Blake longed for one person to put him first, no matter the cost. Dear Heaven, how she wanted to be that person. But he had chosen a man she had loved longer to pit her faith against. Surely he could not expect her to turn her back on her own father. But he did. She knew that with a certainty. In the path she had chosen, she might well be throwing away any chance of gaining entry to the locked gate of his heart. In his eyes, she would become just another betrayer. “Nick! Nick! You’ve got to hide me.”    Nicki jerked her head up as Shelby dashed into the room and around the table to drop to the floor behind her chair. “Good Heavens, Shelby! What have you done now?” The boy forced himself into a ball, his blue eyes pleading. “Don’t look at me! Pretend I isn’t here!” “Master Shelby!” She looked up to see a figure pause in the doorway. From the man’s height and clothing, she guessed he was Simms, but his upper body resembled some horrendous fairy tale monster. Bright purple ooze that looked suspiciously like Em’s plum sauce covered his head and chest. As she watched, a large dollop dropped from his chin onto his meticulously starched cravat. The narrow shoulders straightened into a dignified pose. “Excuse my interruption, Lady Nicole, I am searching for your brother.” “Simms? Whatever happened to you?” Nicki took a bite of muffin to keep her mouth busy, as the butler did not appear in the mood to be laughed at. “I opened the drawer to remove the silver for breakfast when a torrent of… of… fruit propelled at me from the upper shelf. Upon closer examination, I discovered the drawer had been booby trapped.” Good heavens, Shelby’s invention. “Are you injured?” He raised an already soiled handkerchief to dab at his face, but the preserves had dried quickly and the linen made little headway. “I am uninjured, and would therefore prefer discussing this with Master Shelby rather than His Lordship.” “I certainly understand the seriousness of the situation. You might have been badly hurt. But I think it  - would be best if you get cleaned up right away. You would not want the stuff to set to the point that you must wear it off. It might alarm the guests if you go about with a purple face.” Simms inclined his head stiffly. “You are absolutely right, my lady. I shall go at once.” “Do you think perhaps it would be appropriate for me to speak with Shelby on your behalf? Papa has so much on his mind.” “Of course. I would not burden your father with such a trifling matter. I have several maids cleaning the silver and the contraption has been removed to the kitchen. If Master Shelby attempts to retrieve it, Emma has strict instructions not to release it to him. I hope that was not too presumptuous of me.” Nicki raised the linen napkin to her lips. “Not at all. Your restraint is quite admirable. Thank you, Simms.” “Thank you, my lady.” As the man departed Nicki rushed to ease the door closed. “Shelby Langley, how could you?” He stood reluctantly and shuffled his feet. “It was Em who said I should use her plum sauce.” Nicki’s laughter burst forth like a surging river held too long by a fragile dam. “You should be ashamed, Shelby. I fear Simms will be quite an oddity for a few days while the color wears off.” A hesitant smile spread by inches over his lips. “I have to make some adjustments to the contraption. The alarm didn’t go off.” “And thank goodness it did not! I truly do not think Simms would have appreciated the guests running downstairs to investigate the ruckus only to find him and the silver covered in plum sauce.”    “You won’t tell Papa?” Nicki shook her head. “He may be curious at Simms’ new skin tone. If you are going to try your inventions out on people, you should ask their permission first. And perhaps at the end of the day when Simms has had time to calm down, you should give him a handsome apology.” Shelby skipped around the end of the table to stand next to Nicki. “I will. Do you think Em will help me figure out what went wrong?” “I thought she was to keep you away from the contraption.” “When Simms was givin’ orders, Em peeked ‘round the corner and winked at me.” Nicki tousled Shelby’s hair as he opened the door with caution and peeked out. “We shall all be lost if Em takes up with your shenanigans!” Shelby cast Nicki a quick grin and bolted into the hall, offering a breathless greeting to their father as he dodged around him. Shaking his head in exasperation, her father continued into the room. “I sometimes fear I’m being made a fool of by my children and I’ll not learn of it ‘til I am on my death bed.” “Good morning, Papa. Do not worry, we are all the angels you believe us to be.” He smiled briefly, his usual vigor missing. “I’m surprised to see you here, Nick. You’ve been scarce the last few days.” “I know. I thought I should make myself more accessible to the guests. Poor Angelica must be running out of excuses for me.” Her father nodded absently. While he retrieved a  - plate and filled it to overflowing, Nicki sat down at her abandoned breakfast. She watched with concern as he took a seat across from her and stabbed his fork into the ham without another word. “Is something troubling you, Papa?” He looked up and focused on her as though he had forgotten her presence. “No. Nothing’s the matter.” “It is unlike you to be so distracted.” Her father set his fork down and reached inside his jacket to remove a folded piece of stationary. “This was delivered to me just now and I can’t say as I know quite how to take it.” A shiver tiptoed over her skin. Had Blake come through? “Perhaps I can help.” “I’m sure you can, since I’m assuming it must’ve been your doing that brought this about.” “Brought what about, Papa?” He set the paper down beside his plate without offering it to her. “Dylan has promised me four of his prized Arabians to replace the horses we lost. They’re stabled at his home in London and he’s notified the prospective owners by messenger that the horses are available upon their request.” Nicki did not have to feign surprise. “Blake has horses?” “It seems he has a large horse ranch in America and brought ten of his finest to London to market them. It was damned generous of him to give some of them over to me.” “Very generous.” Confusion and uncertainty entered his expression. “He demands repayment, of course, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Two horses out of our birthsnext year, then two the following year. Very fair.” Nicki nodded. The inside of her mouth seemed filled with cotton, and she tipped up her teacup and took a drink. “Papa, I have something I must tell you.” “Do you know what this means, Nick? It proves he wasn’t the one who had our horses poisoned. I thought him guilty, but you were right about him. I’ve misjudged the man.” She had to tell him about the library last night, but such strides had been made toward bridging the gulf. “Papa, there is something you should—” “I don’t care why he did what he did.” Her father reached across the table and covered her hand. “It proves that he isn’t the monster we all thought him to be. He cares for you, girl.” An almost physical pain sliced through her. Why must matters insist on being so complicated? “I truly hope so, Papa. But…” Over her father’s head Nicki caught sight of Blake and Teddy approaching the doorway. She thought she could have been watching a porcupine and a pig attempting to walk in harness together. Neither spoke nor looked at the other, as though mortal harm might ensue such an event. She wondered how they would manage the door. “What is it you’re trying to say, girl?” her father prompted. At the last possible moment, Blake stepped aside and allowed Teddy to enter the breakfast room before him. Inspiration struck Nicki. “Well… I… I just wanted to tell you to ignore the paper work I provided you for this year’s breeding schedule.” Teddy grinned at Nicki in mock amazement as he approached the table. “The two of you talk of nothing but horses.” Nicki offered him a bright smile before transferring her gaze to Blake. The coldness of his expression dimmed her joy at his arrival. “Good morning, Nicole. Langley.” Her father stood hastily, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “Dylan.” He offered his hand to Blake. “Good to see you. Please—serve yourself up some breakfast and join us.” It was all Nicki could do not to wince at her father’s blatant attempt at friendliness. Blake offered her a questioning glance before retiring to the sideboard. Teddy surveyed the group curiously before he turned to follow Blake. Her father returned to his seat and reached for his fork. “Why would you want to change your plans, Nick? Your ideas were sound, as usual.” Nicki modulated her voice so that all in the room might hear her easily. “I overheard several gentlemen speaking of horses they intended to breed for racing. I joined the discussion and they had some very interesting ideas. I want to rethink my plans and I shall have a new report to you by the end of the week.” “But you’ll be busy with wedding plans. Angelica told me your dress was ready to be fitted and she wanted to talk with you about decorations for the church—and then there’s Mina’s dress.” Blake took a seat next to Nicki, his shoulder brushing hers as he casually draped his napkin over his lap. “The seamstresses are coming along nicely then?” Her father nodded. He swallowed his food in one    painful looking gulp. “Angelica’s grateful to you for sending them. It would’ve been next to impossible to find the fabrics and furbelows locally.” Looking from one to the other, Nicki could scarcely fathom that she was hearing her father and fiancé discuss women’s clothing as though… as though they were interested. “About the rep…” “Though all haste was necessary to plan the wedding, I wanted it to be a memorable event for Nicole,” Blake interrupted. “Exactly so,” her father agreed emphatically. Teddy placed his plate on the table and sat down next to her father. “Oh, I don’t think any of us ever had a doubt that this would be a wedding for the history books. I know I certainly didn’t.” The gardens always appeared bleakest in the brief period before spring could take hold and transform its desolation into a paradise. Nicki touched the brown tipped leaf of an evergreen, then moved her finger to a bud just peeking through. Not even the garden could distract her from the man behind her. “You have been very quiet, Nicole. You say nothing is the matter, but your actions tell me differently.” “Would you think me silly,” she did not turn, “if I told you I am experiencing a strong case of nerves over our pending nuptials?” “I might have once. But having come to know you, I would not believe your fears silly at all. I would know what they are that I might put them to rest.” Nicki squeezed her eyes tightly closed. A small object dropped into her hand. When she looked down she saw she had snapped the tiny bud from the stem. Despair threatened to overwhelm her, but she dare not give up the game. She forced a bright smile and turned. Blake stood close; so close she could smell the fresh male scent so uniquely his, could see the dusky color the cold had painted on his strong cheekbones. Beneath the slashes of his dark brows his silver eyes delved into her mind like probing fingers. She braced herself to fight their power. “I have already taken steps, Blake. If I cannot help myself, you shall be the first to know. I promise.” For the briefest instant he almost appeared disappointed or perhaps rejected, but the mask snapped swiftly into place with just a lingering flinch of a muscle along his square jaw. “Then I wish you success in the little time you have left.” “Thank you.” She closed her eyes as Blake reached out to tuck a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear. “Have I told you what an exquisite creature you are?” Her cheek turned to his touch with a will of its own. “You have been exceedingly miserly with your compliments, my lord.” Blake leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “My sweet wild rose.” The warmth of his mouth scorched through her, but the soft breath following his words sent cool wind in the path of the heat. An aching sadness vibrated in his voice. It took all the power of will she possessed to pull away. She sidestepped him and moved to stand before a stone maiden bearing a basket of delicately chiseled    flowers. “My father is very grateful to you for providing the horses. I did not have to pretend my surprise. Why did you not tell me you, too, raised horses?” “You did not ask.” She stiffened at the remark, then laughed bitterly. “I have found that you do not react well to questions about your past—or present, for that matter. I, on the other hand, seem to blurt out anything and everything you could possibly want to know—or not. It seems strange that two people so different should live in the same house together, share a life, does it not?” “Perhaps one complements the other.” “Perhaps,” she said, unable to keep uncertainty from sneaking into her voice. He came to stand at her side. Nicki suddenly wished her hair were not pulled back into a braided coil at her neck so that she could hide behind its protective curtain. “So your father is appreciative of my gesture. I wondered at his odd behavior.” “He was trying to be nice and you call him odd!” Blake appeared taken aback by the fierceness of her speech. “When my enemy encourages me to join him in a meal in very jovial tones, I automatically wonder if I am being poisoned!” Frustration ground through her. “He is not your enemy! My father does not have an unkind bone in his body. He was showing you his gratitude the only way he knows how.” “Well, I hope he gets bored with it quickly. While you are with your dressmaker, he has invited me to take a turn about his estates. He has a small mill or some sort of object he would like me to take a look at. Your father is one man I never hoped to befriend.” “Have you taken the time to think about our future, Blake? He will be your father-in-law. Do you plan on spending the rest of your life making his hell? Because if you do, I must tell you I will not allow it.” She sensed his retreat behind the safety of icy disdain. “What can you do?” Nicki shivered, longing to stop before she hurt him, for by causing him pain, she punished herself as well. Yet she knew the words must be said. “I can leave you.” “Oh?” He reached out to strip leaves from a fragile stem. “And would you run home to papa, begging his protection?” The sharpness of his words sliced into her, laying her heart open. “I would not bring more of your anger upon his head. I do not know where I would go—but it would be somewhere far from you. And you would never know what became of me. You would not deserve to know.” Blake tensed, letting the leaves slip through his fingers. For the briefest instant Nicki saw an unholy fury flash in his eyes. His fists clenched. “Brave words coming from a country miss who has never left her home.” “I hope I shall never have to act on them.” She lifted her chin. “But do not doubt that I will if I must.” Silence stretched between them, filled with the hum of angry tension. Finally, Blake reached into his waistcoat and consulted his watch. “It is time for you to meet with the seamstress.” She nodded, miserable. How could they be so cruel to one another? The easy friendship of the past weeks now seemed unreal and unattainable. “I mean what I say, Blake. I want us to be happy, if only you will   allow it.” He took her arm, but the gesture lacked gentleness. “Who knows what the future may hold, my dear. I certainly do not pretend to know.” 
Chapter 18
 The three seamstresses had turned the attic into a combination sewing room and sleeping quarters. Covered with fabrics the colors of the rainbow, mountains of lace, pearls, ribbon, bows, and flowers made of silk, the crowded storage room transformed from dreary and grim to dazzling brilliance. And holding a place of honor amidst the magnificence was a gown fit for a princess. Seated on an old pillow on the floor, Nicki pulled her legs up close to her chest and rested her chin on her folded arms. She could not imagine herself in such a lovely creation. Her wedding gown. Across the room Yolanda, the head seamstress, and her sisters, Isabella and Katarina, fussed over Cecilia, carefully taking tucks in one of the gowns Nicki had promised. Poor Cecilia. She resembled a crust of bread amidst three birds. A smile teased Nicki’s mouth. A blue bird, a snow bird of white and brown, and a crow. The stand bearing her wedding dress drew her gaze once again. She nibbled at her lip as she studied the graceful lines.This fitting could very well be a waste of all their time. Her behavior in the garden had been childish and argumentative. Somehow her words had struck a sensitive chord in Blake, causing him to react as badly as she. Did he sense her uncertainty? It would not be the first time he discerned her moods. Nicki buried her face in her arms, forced to admit the truth to herself. If it were not for her family, she would take Blake at any cost. She had said she would leave him. But, dear heaven, after becoming his wife, could she ever bear to let him go? He lured her, enchanted her, like nothing she had ever known, and she needed his presence as a bud must have the sun or it would whither and drop from the stem. Nicki had never known such helplessness as she experienced in the face of this strong attraction. But she could not afford to be helpless, dared not blindly follow her heart as she had in the past. Once, if her actions had brought about disaster, the punishment was hers. Now the future of her family depended upon Nicki maintaining self control. It was a curious feeling, pausing to think before acting. She had never put much faith in careful planning, but the stakes were too high for her to gamble this time. If her heart and soul were all she risked, she would rush forward into Blake’s arms without hesitation. Her life would be much simpler if only the earl would release his hatred. Someday perhaps, when he came to love her, the enmity would leave him, but she could not open her family to the pain he might inflict in the meantime. No matter how much she loved Blake, she could not allow him to destroy her fatherIn stripping Jonathon Langley of every last shilling, he would steal Shelby’s heritage and Mina’s chance of making a good match. They would lose Langley Hall, the last of the holdings belonging to the Billingtons. Within the aged walls of the Hall existed the history of a strong, proud family. She could not bear to be the one responsible for its downfall. With the acceptance of her fate, a darkness slipped into her heart to suffocate her, to taint the jubilation her love for Blake had brought. She lifted her tortured gaze to the gown of white satin covered in Nottingham lace. The seamstresses were here because Blake had sent for them. The earl had promised to pay off her father’s creditors and to finance her sister’s Season. She knew from Mina that Blake had sent over carts full of food because Angelica had taken over the bulk of entertainment for the two households. And he had given up four of his own horses to fill her father’s orders. Every action opposed his bitter words. Yet the fact remained that someone had killed her horses—and Blake was the only person with motive. “Nicki? Nicki, what do you think?” Starting guiltily, she glanced in the direction of the light streaming in the window. Cecilia turned slowly to allow a view from all angles. Nicki uncurled and stood, drawing forth a smile as she joined the women. “I told you the colors were meant for you. You look like a queen.” Yolanda fussed with the hem. “I think the length is still not right.” Isabella swiped at her sister’s hands impatiently. “You’ll have the poor girl’s stockings shining for all to  see if you keep on! The length is perfect.” “I–I feel strange—like I am someone else all together.” “You are someone else. You are the real Cecilia.” Nicki took her new friend’s hands in hers and held them wide. “Just look at you.” “Yes. Just look at you. And I thought I would find Nicki nearly finished with her fitting.” At the sound of the cool, clipped words the other women seemed to become incapable of movement, as though Angelica’s voice had turned them all to ice sculptures. Nicki met her stepmother ’s gaze squarely. “I remembered the gowns we received by mistake with our own, and naturally I thought how becoming they would be to Cecilia.” Angelica advanced into the room gracefully, ignoring the clutter in her path. She drew Mina along behind her purely with strength of will. “You were not mistaken. It is as if the dress were made for her.” “I–I am sorry. It was presumptuous of me.” Cecilia’s face turned an alarming purple, which clashed with the deep forest green of the gown she wore. “Angelica, it was I who insisted Cecilia take the gowns. It is a shame for such lovely creations to sit up here in the attic when someone could make use of them.” Slanted green eyes surveyed Cecilia. “That is very generous of you, Nicole.” Cecilia jumped down from the small stool she stood upon. “Duchess, I… I assure you my mother will compensate you for the gowns…” “Nonsense, young lady. You are family and I agree  with Nicole’s philosophy of the sinfulness of waste. Now, perhaps if you allow your hair to fall naturally about your face…” Angelica perfunctorily ran her fingers through the twin sausages dangling on either side of the girl’s cheeks. Cecilia’s hair, a rich chestnut, was cropped to a length just below the ear, as was the fashion. The looser curls, combined with the flattering color of the dress, was nothing short of miraculous. Nicki gasped. “Your own mother would not recognize you, Cel!” Angelica took Cecilia’s shoulders and turned her toward the full-length mirror. The girl touched her hair in amazement. “I wouldn’t know myself!” “Now back to compensation.” Nicki looked at her stepmother strangely. “But Angelica, I thought we agreed…” “No, Nicki. Of course I must make it right,” Cecilia argued. Angelica stood back, one finger touching her chin thoughtfully. She moved around Cecilia as though assessing the straightness of a portrait hanging on the wall. “Yes, I believe you will.” Nicki moved between the pair. “Angelica, you cannot mean to accept her money!” “Money? Do not be absurd. I meant that Cecilia should be one of the attendants at your wedding. This green should go nicely with Mina’s buttercup.” Stunned, Nicki could say nothing. Mina rushed forward. “How wonderful! The earl is having the Westland twins stand up with him. Percival told me only last evening.” “Oh, no. I could never—I should faint dead away if I had to stand up in front of so many people.”   Taking Cecilia’s arm, Nicki turned her back to the mirror. “If I can do it, so can you.” They laughed at their reflections. “It is decided then.” Angelica’s face appeared between them, a slight smile gracing her lips. “If Nicole does not put on that gown, there may be no wedding for either of you to worry about.”  “But, Nick, Simms said if I used the contraption again he’d go to Papa.” With a sigh, Nicki leaned back against the side of Shelby’s bed and tucked her feet beneath her skirts. “He was just angry because you used it on him. He did not mean for you never to use it again.” Shelby nodded slowly, obviously still uncertain. “If you say so. I’m certain Em’ll give me more of her preserves.” “Good.” Nicki turned to her sister seated next to her on the floor. “Mina, you will watch for anyone behaving suspiciously.” Mina grinned. “It seems we shall be the only people acting odd.” “This is very important to me, you two, but I do not want you risking your safety. If you see or hear anything suspicious, come for me at once. Do not investigate on your own. Is that clear?” “When do I get to use my device, Nick? I need to make one or two adjustments.” Nicki thought for a moment. With the wedding scheduled for Saturday, only two days remained. “It will have to be Friday night, Shelby. Can you be ready?”  “Me and Em almost have it ready, but she’s awful busy with a houseful of people and all.” “And I may not be able to learn much before then.” Mina casually braided a lock of dark hair. “Why is it so important that we act Friday?” Nicki’s hand traced the pattern of the carpet. She smiled as her fingers found a piece of thin wire embedded in the fibers. Shelby’s room must be filled with remnants of his inventions, for his endeavors in the past had never been as successful as his burglar device. “There is just no more time.” Shelby sprawled next to her, his chin resting on his hand. “It’ll be ready by Friday, I promise.” Mina, ever the lady, sat with her legs curled to the side, her back straight. “I shall do my best.” “Good.” Nicki rose and shook out her skirts. Her sister and brother followed her lead. She glanced from one face to the other. “Whatever would I do without the two of you?” Both surged forward and Nicki wrapped her arms around each of them. Her family. She would do anything to protect them. And in her heart, she knew they would do anything she asked without question because of the love they had for her. If only her happiness did not risk theirs. Shelby lifted his face to hers, his blue eyes earnest. “It isn’t the earl, Nick. We all know it isn’t.” Nicki ruffled his dark curls. “You like Blake very much.” “He always talks to me—even when most everyone else don’t know I exist. And he cares about you, too—really cares. Not just pretends to care.” “Shelby Langley,” Nicki was surprised by his   remark, “who pretends to care when they do not?” He flushed and backed away slightly. “Mr. Bartholomew. I don’t like him. He’s always starin’ at you and the earl.” Mina laughed. “That’s called jealousy, dear brother. Generally one cares a great deal when they experience such an emotion. Perhaps more than they should. Teddy has been Nicki’s friend since she was much younger than you are now. He might have believed she would marry him one day. Now that she is to be married to another—he finds he is helpless and it makes him behave strangely.” “Well—Blake don’t like him and he don’t like it when he talks to Nick. If he don’t like him, I don’t like him.” Nicki’s heart slammed in her breast at Shelby’s words. How much pain was she to bear before this ordeal would be over? “You must learn to make your own judgments about people, Shelby. The earl feels he has reason to dislike Teddy, but his reasons are his own. No matter how much you care for him, you must form your own conclusions.” Shelby’s eyes filled with tears, startling Nicki. “You think the contraption will trap Blake, don’t you?” “I… I truly hope not. In my heart I am certain of his innocence. But I cannot trust my feelings in this. Too much is at stake. I have to behave logically.” Mina reached out and pushed the ever-wayward strand of hair back from Nicki’s face. “I never thought to say this—but I miss my reckless sister. At least she was happy.” “But it was my disregard for convention that landed us in this mess. To get us out, I must follow the rules.” “Spying and burglar traps are following the rules? Oh, Nicki, you are too much!” Nicki reached for Shelby. She drew both her siblings into her arms for one more embrace. “Somewhere at the end of all this madness is a happy ending for us all. I have to believe that or I shall go mad.”  “The horses are the money makers, but they’ve been Nick’s idea from the beginning. This is my dream. It does little more than break even, but I’m damn proud of it.” Blake glanced from Jonathon’s glowing face to a long, ramshackle building. From inside blared the noise of grinding machinery and men shouting to be heard over the din. “What is it?” Jonathon’s eyes filled with an unmistakable pride. “A toy factory.” “Toys?” His solicitor’s report had contained nothing about a factory. “I should think that quite a lucrative venture.” “If I sold all the product it might be, but I’ve always wanted to do something for those less fortunate than myself. I work with churches across England and donate most of the toys for the Yuletide season. The more extravagant toys are sold to several elite shops in London, but I don’t supply enough to do well. The monies mostly cover my expenses in producing the toys that are given away.” Blake once again looked at Jonathon, a curious tightness in his chest. “I would be interested in having a look inside.”    “Of course, man. I didn’t bring you here to admire the exterior.” Contrary to his expectation, upon entering the building the noise seemed scarcely louder than it had from outside. Several men nodded in greeting as they rushed past Blake. He noted they had stuffed pieces of cloth in their ears. That explained the shouting. “How many men do you employ?” Blake shouted. Jonathon leaned close to hear Blake’s words. “Fifty men and two dozen women. The women sew the dresses and paint the faces on the dolls, as well as doing the fine work on all the carved animals. They can also do some work at home, which seems to work out well for both of us.” “And the price you get from the toys sold in London pays for wages and expenses?” “Yes, as well as a bonus at Yuletide for the workers. They love the work as much as I do.” The hot steamy air inside the building was a drastic change from the chill of the air outside. Blake removed his coat. Jonathon, his already ruddy complexion several shades darker, followed suit. “What type of fire causes this heat?” Jonathon nodded toward a doorway several yards down the hall. “Come, I’ll show you.” The older man moved ahead, his excitement lending him speed. Blake increased his stride to catch up. Jonathon disappeared through a wide doorway and Blake followed. He stopped short as the full force of humid heat hit him in the face. “Good God, the man is using steam,” he murmured incredulously. “Blake!”  Jonathon had moved quite a distance ahead to stand beside an immense steel barrel with a multitude of steel tubing snaking from its rounded sides. Blake joined him. He stifled the urge to stare about him like an awestruck boy, but he had not felt such absolute amazement since he had left his childhood. “I have read several articles on the use of steam to power machinery,” he said. “You have gone one step further, I see.” “It’s a marvelous thing, though the temperature causes working conditions to be somewhat uncomfortable. We’ve cut a few ventilation holes, and it has helped some. I visited the steam-powered printing press in London when it first began operation almost five years ago. I learned much from that.” As he finished his speech, one of the tubes burst free from the barrel and hot steam spewed wildly in their direction. Jonathon, reacting with surprising speed, thrust Blake aside while a man in a leather mask rushed forward and swiftly grabbed the tube with heavily gloved hands. In moments, he had returned the tubing to its place and secured it. He bobbed his masked head toward Jonathon then disappeared back into the maze of machinery. “Quick thinking, Langley. We could have been badly burned.” Jonathon took a linen kerchief from his pocket and mopped at his forehead. “Sadly, it happens quite often. Steam builds up a good deal of pressure. The man in the leather helm is our safety overseer. It’s his job to check the fittings periodically, but there just isn’t no fool proof system.” They moved on to a wide belt onto which dropped    slabs of wood of varying sizes. The belt moved on rollers, obviously steam-powered. At the end of the belt stood a man who directed the different sizes of wood onto separate belts, each moving to a machine that chopped them into shapes before continuing to the next stage. Doll heads, legs, and arms; rocking horses; barrels and stocks of miniature pistols; bodies and wheels of tiny carts. The finished pieces then dropped into a large wooden cart on wheels. When the box was full it was rolled away to be replaced by another. Following the progress of one cart, Blake and Jonathon went into a separate room divided into four sections. In one corner, men stood at a table where they smoothed the edges of the wooden pieces before transferring them into baskets. The baskets were then taken to the next station where they were painted and set out to dry. Jonathon directed Blake to stop, and they paused to watch the skilled painters make faces out of circles of wood, and colorful circus ponies out of plain rocking horses. One basket was filled with dry pieces as they watched. Jonathon motioned for Blake to follow to the third station. Here dolls received hair and were attached to bodies made of stuffed linen; ponies grew manes and tails, wagon wheels were attached to their frames, and guns were assembled. The next station completed the toy. The dolls were clothed in frilly dresses and matching stockings. Some got bonnets, others aprons. No two were exactly the same. The horses were saddled and bridled. The finished product was carefully wrapped in canvas and stored in a slatted box. Jonathon flirted pleasantly with the women who flushed with pleasure  at his attention. Blake nodded politely as Jonathon introduced him. One woman smiled. “I’m Gillian Willis. You met my husband Samuel. It’s a treat to have a master at Rosewood who cares what happens to it.” “The estate is a fine one and your husband has been a skilled overseer.” Jonathon waved to the women. He took Blake’s arm to lead him out the rear door. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the brightness. Once again, he noted Langley had charged ahead. Shaking his head, Blake followed. This Jonathon was someone Blake had never seen before—never imagined existed. He experienced the same tightening in his chest again. The Langleys were an odd bunch, but damned if they were not admirable in their eccentricities. To go to this extent to see that children had some joy at Christmas… it was a concept Blake had trouble imagining. The modern machinery must have cost the man a small fortune, but better to spend it on this venture than lose it on some other that Blake could turn sour? He had done nothing since his arrival at Rosewood to further Langley’s downfall, and after what he had just seen, he did not know if he could go forward with any more schemes. As Blake untied his horse and mounted, he noticed Jonathon watching him. “You’re quiet, Lord Diamond.” “You have given me a good deal to think about, Your Grace.” Jonathon turned his head slightly, his eyes serious. “It’s just a toy factory, no matter how it pleases me. But there are things in this world I value much more highly. My family, for instance.” He mounted his horse. Gathering the reins, Blake turned the horse so that he and Jonathon faced each other. “Your family is close. One does not need any special powers of discernment to see that.” “I know you don’t respect me, and I admit I understand most of your motives. But Nicki isn’t me. She’s a special part of me, but she’s not me.” “I know what you are getting at and I will say this once and once only. I am not responsible for what happened to the horses. I do not know who is. The man that came looking for my watch was an employee of mine, but he was sent to study the layout of the stables. I plan to surprise Nicole by having Rosewood’s stables renovated as a wedding gift.” Jonathon sagged slightly, as though a burden had been lifted. “Nick told me it wasn’t you, but I still had my doubts. When you replaced the horses with your own, I knew. You had no obligation to me, yet you stepped in to save me from disaster. I won’t forget that.” “We still have a problem.” “What is that?” Langley stiffened. Blake pulled his jacket on. As he straightened his sleeve, he glanced at Jonathon. “If I am not the guilty party, who is? And why are they trying to make it look as if I had something to do with the deed?” “You’re the only one who would want to see me ruined.” “That leaves us with very little to go on. Is Melton the type to try to make me look bad so you will withdraw the contract and allow him to marry Nicole?”  Jonathon shook his head. “He never set eyes on Nick. He and I met at White’s in London and the arrangements were made there.” “Andrew is certain the food was not tainted accidentally?” “He’s sure.” Blake urged his horse ahead and Jonathon came abreast of him. “Whoever poisoned the horses knew exactly which ones you planned to sell. That means they had access to your business records. Is that a difficult endeavor?” “I never had no reason to keep my books hid away. So you think someone’s been pokin’ about in my study?” “It makes sense. Nicole mentioned a report this morning.” Jonathon thought for a moment. “So she did. Each year Nick prepares a detailed account with breeding schedules, prices we should ask, supplies, and what she wants to do with the profit left over after our living expenses. She’d planned to purchase new breeding stock with the profit from those horses that was killed. She said this morning she’s changing her report.” “If we make that fact known, perhaps we can catch the blackguard in the act.” “By damned, that’s an excellent idea!” Blake frowned. Whoever had orchestrated this fiasco thus far had maintained the upper hand. Blake had seen the doubt in Nicole’s eyes when she looked at him. The guilty party would pay for every moment of pain he had caused her. The prospect appealed to him immensely. “I planned to dine alone with my aunt and several    close friends tonight. Perhaps you can set our plan into action this evening?” Jonathon grinned. “With pleasure. Would you join me for a brandy first?”  
Chapter 19
 A soft knock at the door brought Nicki out of a light sleep. She glanced beside her. Josey had not yet come to bed, and the candle beside her had scarcely burned down. Another knock sounded, louder this time. Nicki threw the covers aside and slipped from the bed. Shivering in her thin nightrail, she hurried to open the door. Mina burst into the room, then jerked the knob from Nicki’s hand as she pushed the door shut. Facing Nicki, her cheeks flushed pink and her blue eyes flashed with excitement. “Mina, whyever did you knock?” Nicki pushed the hair out of her eyes and stifled a yawn. “One never knows when or where you might be entertaining the Earl of Diamond these days.” “Mina!” Laughing, Mina took Nicki’s hand and pulled her to the bed. “Come on, you’re freezing.” Nicki climbed back into bed without complaint. She tugged the covers over her lap while Mina sat on top of the comforter. “Mina, whatever has gotten into you?”    “I have something to tell you.” Capturing a decorative pillow in her arms, she hugged it tightly. “Do not worry, we have plenty of time. Josey is playing cards with Angelica, Papa, and Grampa Giles. When I left they had gotten through one hand and Grampa accused Josey of cheating and making up new rules.” “You seem very excited.” Mina squeezed the pillow until Nicki feared the stuffing might spring loose. “It has nothing to do with our endeavor. Simms hovered outside Papa’s study throughout the evening. I almost believe he was guarding the door.” At that bit of news, Nicki experienced a jolt of alarm. “You do not suppose he is on to us and is watching out for Shelby?” “If he is, we shall simply have to deal with him when the time comes.” “You are right. Now tell me what happened.” Mina’s blue eyes sparkled. “I did as you asked and kept my ears perked for any unusual conversations. I also periodically checked Papa’s study, but as I said Simms was ever nearby. On one occasion I noticed several gentlemen entering the breakfast room, which was odd since it was well after the evening meal. They shut the door behind them.” “I believe that constitutes suspicious behavior. Did you learn anything?” “I stood close to the door, but could hear nothing with all the noise from the ballroom. When I was certain the hall was clear I leaned down to listen at the keyhole. They were most definitely arguing, but I could make out little of what they said. What I did hear seemed to be something about an inheritance and a necklace, bunothing close to our interests.” Nicki released her breath, disappointed. “No, it certainly does not sound like our culprit.” “When I realized I was eavesdropping on an argument that had nothing to do with us, I went to get up and stepped on the hem of my gown. I tried to save myself from falling, but my hand slipped from the doorframe and I sprawled full length on the floor. The door opened and one of the men stepped over me and assisted me to my feet. Oh, Nicki, I wished the floor would open up and gulp me down!” Gasping, Nicki gripped the coverlet tightly. “Whatever did you say to him?” Mina’s eyes widened in remembered horror. “I thanked him. What else could I say? Then I looked up and nearly fainted dead away. It was Charles Armitage.” Befuddled, Nicki pondered Mina’s words. “Did he accuse you of spying?” “Heavens no! He asked me to dance.” “Mina, you must have addled your brains when you fell. You are beginning to sound like me.” Throwing her head back, Mina laughed. Nicki had never known her to show such excitement. “I’m sorry. We danced and then he asked me to accompany him to the balcony for a bit of fresh air. He’s very charming and ever so handsome.” “Sister, I think you are smitten!” “I vowed not to fall in love before my Season, but he is like no one I have ever known.” Mina pressed the corner of the pillow to her lips, then dropped it to her lap with a frown. “Am I mad?” Nicki thought of her feelings for Blake and heard her own words echo in her sister’s speech. “I am certain   of it, but tell me everything. Did he kiss you?” Mina gasped. “Heavens no! He was a perfect gentleman.” “Kissing is very nice. You can only hope he will not prove to be too much the perfect gentleman.” “Your earl has destroyed any inhibitions you might have had,” Mina said in disgust. “Did he hold your hand?” She ducked her head shyly. “Yes, and then he said my hair was like the underside of a raven’s wing. But that is not what I came here to tell you. Charles spoke of his childhood. He said that his father was Barrett Dylan’s cousin, and they visited Blake’s home several times. He and Blake were the same age and they got on very well. The last time they visited was just after Charles’ seventh birthday. The Countess of Diamond had disappeared two years earlier and the house had fallen into permanent mourning.” “Blake’s mother disappeared?” Mina nodded. “When Charles asked Blake what had happened to her he became very upset and admitted he didn’t know. It seems his father never told him and he was too afraid to ask. So Charles went to his parents and asked them what had happened to Blake’s mother. He wanted to find out so that he could tell Blake, but the earl overheard and threw Charles’ family out of the house. They never returned, but he never forgot his cousin’s pain.” Nicki recalled her words to Blake in the garden earlier that day and felt as though she was falling through space, spinning out of control. She had threatened to leave him. Dear God, she had said he would not deserve to know what happened to her. “What have I done?”  “You? The story has nothing to do with you. I merely thought you would like to know something about Blake. I know how close-mouthed you said he is.” Tears filled Nicki’s eyes, then spilled over. “Yes, he is. And small wonder.” “Nicki, I didn’t mean to upset you.” “I said something to Blake this morning—some-thing horrible. I have to make it right.” Nicki threw the covers aside and scrambled from the bed. Her fingers fumbled clumsily as she tugged on her riding boots and reached for a cloak. “Nicki, what has gotten into you? You cannot go out at this time of night!” Nicki paused at the window and glanced back to her sister still perched on the bed. “Please, Mina, make certain Josey does not come up for at least another hour. I have to see Blake. I have to tell him—I have to tell him I did not mean something I said. Will you?” Mina stood and tossed aside the mangled pillow. “Of course I will, but are you certain you should be doing this?” “I cannot allow him to fall asleep this night with my words filling his mind. I must take them back. Wish me luck, sister!” “Good luck, then—I think.”  Nicki stepped easily across the narrow overhang, her thoughts dwelling stubbornly on Mina’s words. After two years, Blake had still been tortured over his mother’s disappearance. What kind of man had his father been that Blake had dared not ask what became    of his mother? The agony of her mother’s death remained a powerful memory, but she had gone through the loss and grief, and with time the pain had gradually eased. How could Blake go through the grieving process when he did not know whether his mother still lived or had died? She knew from experience the extent of a child’s imagination. Nicki inwardly cringed at the thought of the small Blake wanting his mother, not knowing where she was or why she had left him. An understanding of the man came to her at the insight into the boy. Blake had told her she did not know the darkness in his soul. She had just been offered a small peek, and she knew now she could never turn from him until she had shared all his demons. As unsuccessful as she had been with her own, perhaps she would do better vanquishing his. Nicki shook herself. She had been standing at the edge of the overhang daydreaming when she should have been making haste. She reached out and grasped the branch she used for leverage and stepped onto the lower limb. A crack. Almost like the snap of a whip over the carriage horses. Nicki started at the unexpected sound. The upper limb she hung on to dropped sharply and swung outward. She flailed for a moment, then lost her balance. And fell. The hood of her cloak caught on the branch; the tie tightened about her neck like a hangman’s noose. Desperately, she clawed at the strings, gasping for air. When that didn’t work, Nicki forced herself to calm and stop struggling. Looking up, she could see that she hung only a foot or so beneath the lower branch. To reach the branch, she must turn loose of the ties at her throat. With one quick movement, Nicki grabbed for the branch. But the tips of her fingers scraped off the bottom of the limb. She could not reach up far enough to grab hold. The attempt caused the laces to tighten about her neck even more. Sparks shot before her eyes. She felt total darkness descending on her. In one last desperate act, she grabbed the hood of her cloak and dragged herself up far enough to reach over the limb with one hand. With her other hand, she loosened the strings of her cloak and finally gulped air into her tortured lungs. Her arms trembled. Nicki called out, but the only noise she could utter was a hoarse croak. With all her remaining strength, she lifted her body toward the limb. The muscles of her arms screamed in protest and the bark bit into her palms. She could go no further. She sagged, defeated. Had a person ever survived a drop of thirty feet? Her fingers slipped slightly, and she could not summon the strength to renew her hold. Nicki thought desperately of Blake. Their last words had been said in anger. And Angelica—she should not have been so unkind to her stepmother. She hoped God listened to last minute prayers, because she had a lot to answer for and very little time in which to atone. “Nicki!” Teddy. Tears slipped from the outer edges of her eyes to tunnel into her hair. He clasped her wrists and hoisted her up onto the branch. Nicki scooted along the limb to the tree trunk before she dared relax.    Teddy followed more awkwardly. He had never liked climbing much, but he had overcome his fears to save her life. She tried to smile, but could not halt the flow of tears or form words. “I saw you from my window. My God, I was sure you would’ve fallen before I could get to you.” Nicki reached out to touch his cheek. “Th-thank you.” “Nicki, are you alright?” Blake’s voice called out from below. “Blake!” Nicki rasped, then touched her hand to her throat, though the pain seemed to be more in the inside than the out. Almost out of breath, he maneuvered himself up from below to a sturdy branch just beneath; high enough that they were face to face. “Quick thinking, Bartholomew.” Teddy nodded curtly, his skin glowing ghastly pale in the semi-darkness. “Luck was with us. Are you hurt, Nick?” “My—throat…” Blake reached out to move her hair aside. Her heart leapt at his gentle touch against the sensitive skin of her throat. “Your nightrail protected you for the most part. You might have broken your neck, young lady. From this point on I am putting an end to these dangerous escapades of yours.” With a glance up at the jagged edges of the broken limb, Nicki fought the unruliness of her emotions. She had nearly died, yet one touch from the earl made her forget everything but the feelings he invoked. “Please… do not worry so. Just a silly accident. I did not realize you were here.”  - He followed the direction of her gaze, his own unreadable. Nicki studied him, hoping to detect any emotion he might unwittingly reveal, but his silver gaze dropped to her face revealing no clues. “Let us get you back into the house.” “No! I must talk to you, Blake. Teddy, I promise I am perfectly fit. See, I can speak much better. Would you please leave us alone?” Looking as if he would like nothing more than to argue, Teddy finally gave a loud sigh. “You should be in bed. When I think of what might’ve happened…” She reached out to take his free hand. “But it did not, Teddy, thanks to you, my guardian angel.” “If I were truly your guardian angel, you would’ve had no reason to be out here endangering your safety in the middle of the night.” “I can take over from here, Bartholomew.” Blake spoke quietly, but firmly. Teddy slid backward on the branch. When he reached the overhang, he turned back. “Try to watch out for her a little better in the future, Dylan. This world would be a frightful place without her in it.” “I intend exactly that.” Nicki watched as Teddy slipped through her bedroom window, then pulled the glass down to leave several inches of space. Now that she was alone with Blake, she could not recall the words she intended to use. She had to try. “Blake…” He leaned close, and his mouth covered hers with such ferocity that Nicki swallowed her words and quickly forgot them. The intensity of his emotions flamed in that kiss. Whether he wittingly revealed    them or reacted to them blindly, Nicki did not care. She released her hold on the branch and pressed into his warmth, clutching at his shoulders as she had the tree only moments before. In response, his arms tightened around her and pulled her to him as though he could meld her into a part of himself. A heat flared within her, rising to reveal itself a worthy match for Blake’s passion. She exalted in the satiny heat of his mouth, the mingling of their breaths. He drew back to stare into her face, his breathing harsh. “When I saw you hanging from that branch—I thought I had been dealt the killing blow and you were dead. Damn you, I never wanted to feel like this again! I swore I would never care so much!” Instead of cringing from his rage, Nicki reached out to touch her palm to the muscle flinching in his jaw. “What I said in the garden earlier today, that I would leave you if you misbehaved… It was wrong of me to say it. I love you, Blake Dylan, and I swear to you I will never leave you of my own free will. If you want rid of me, you will have to kill me. I mean that.” His gaze searched her face, harsh, unbelieving— hopeful. “What do you know of love, little Nicole?” “I know that you have become a vital part of me; that without you I could not go on. Is that love?” Blake laughed harshly. “Is it? What do I know of love?” Nicki pressed her lips to his forehead. “I can teach you what I know. Love is protecting someone at any cost, overlooking their faults, exalting in their strengths. It is joy and laughter, but it is also pain and loss. You know that perhaps better than I.” His shoulders sagged and he dropped his head onto  - Nicki’s shoulder. “When I saw you hanging there—it turned me cold inside. I thought I had lost the only person I cared about. Again.” Tears streamed from Nicki’s eyes as she wrapped her arms about him and hung on with all her strength. “But you did not. I am safe and sound.” His hands tightened on her waist. “She left me. I loved my mother more than anything and she went away.” “I know,” she whispered, stroking the thickness of his black hair. “Sometimes, no matter how much we care we are unable to hold on.” “Why did my father not tell me? He should have told me she was ill. At least I would have known it was nothing I did.” Nicki’s heart cried with him. She understood— only too well. He wiped at his face until she captured his hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “People are all too human, Blake. Because of the depth of our love we can expect too much.” His tears had gone, and so had the mask he so carefully maintained. Pain radiated from him. “All these years, I thought she left because of me. My father’s silence confirmed my belief. He would not speak of her, would not allow her name to be mentioned. Until recently, I thought he was a man of stone, that he cared for no one.” “But you know differently now?” He took her hands lightly, staring at their entwined fingers. “My Aunt Sophia gave me a box several days ago that belonged to my father. I remembered it because the only likeness of my mother allowed in the house stood next to this box on my father’s dressing table.” He paused, as though remembering. Nicki waited, not wanting to break the slender tie that bound them in this moment. “Inside were letters. On the top were correspondences between my father and a Runner he had used to keep tabs on me in America. It must have been difficult with the war going on, but somehow the mighty Earl of Diamond managed.” “So now you know how much he loved you.” “I suppose he must have. I only wish he could have told me.” Nicki sighed. “The wicked tricks time plays upon us. We think we have so much time, that there will always be another moment. But then the moment is gone and we realize we have not said all we wanted to say.” “You understand better than I.” Blake sighed. “If only I had known you years ago.” “But you have me now.” He traced the bones of her hand gently. “So I do.” “And you can tell me anything—anything. I want to help.” Blake took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “The letters beneath told a story I could not have imagined. The pages were worn, as if my father had read them time and again.” Nicki waited patiently as Blake dropped into silence. His hands holding hers stilled. His fingers were like ice, so she clasped them tighter, willing her warmth to surround him, to offer some comfort as he struggled with his demons. “He must have missed her very much,” she prompted gently. “She left because she had been diagnosed with a disease of the lungs. My father did not go with her because they felt I should not be left alone. A nurse accompanied her as they sought the healing waters at Bath.” He smiled wistfully, lost in his mind’s vision. “Her letters were filled with hope. She chattered on about me mostly—the plans she had and all she wanted for my future. She insisted that Father pass on every detail of our existence so that she would have some connection to us. The treatments failed and she worsened. The letters after that came from Switzerland, then Italy. My father spared no expense in searching for a cure. Her handwriting became difficult to read and eventually the letters came from the nurse. Still she asked about me. The nurse said her mind had become affected so by the illness that she could remember little, but she continued to ask about me until the very end. Two years after she left us she was gone. The final letter from the nurse said my mother had gone to sleep and never awakened. The next letter was a brief note from an Italian priest who accompanied her body to England.” Nicki stifled a sob as Blake once again slipped into silence. She bent her head, drawing on some strength from deep within to halt her tears before she spoke. “She acted out of love for you, Blake. You must know she believed she was protecting you.” “At what cost? Did they think she could disappear from my life one day and I would never notice? Did they honestly believe I would not wonder each and every day of my life what I had done to drive her away? My father should have told me. He should have told me she was dead, damn him!” Nicki winced as he crushed her hands in his fury, but she did not draw back. “In telling you, he would have had to face his own grief.” Blake’s agonized gaze met hers. “I spent my life watching for her return. Every moment of my existence I tried to make up her loss to my father because it was my fault she had gone. Every rebuff from him I took without complaint because I knew I deserved it.” He paused, then ground out the words through clenched teeth. “Deserved it because it was my fault that we had lost someone so special, so perfect. My fault that we lost the only joy in our lives.” “But you were a little boy. How could he know how deeply you were affected by her loss?” Blake pulled his hands free and Nicki felt his effort to regain that control so vitally important to him. He jammed his fingers through his hair, then down to hold his neck. Leaning his head back, he stared at the sky. “He could have trusted me enough to ask.” The simple words sliced through her as his anger had not. He might have been speaking to his parents, though they were beyond the agonies and suffering of mortals. Overwhelming frustration swept over her. She believed in God, believed in his warmth and caring. She believed in angels. So why did Blake’s parents not send their son some sense of the love that had prompted their actions? Obviously they had loved him. So why had they allowed him to suffer? Nicki listened to the wind caress the stark limbs of the tree and whisper secrets that only mystical creatures understood. She longed for wisdom beyond herself— some knowledge that would reveal the purpose behind the battles humans waged within themselves and without. With it, perhaps she could ease Blake’s pain. Then, like magic, the answer came to her. The  weight of the sudden knowledge descended upon her, weakening in its intensity. Perhaps Blake’s parents had sent their son exactly what he needed. Now, when he knew the truth, he had someone who loved him to share the pain. Could she be the comfort they offered their son? Nicki looked at Blake and saw not only the strong, honorable man she had come to love, but also the tortured little boy who had tried so desperately to make amends for a wrong he had not committed. She also saw a resiliency in Blake. He was a survivor. In learning the truth about his parents, perhaps he had gained some understanding into human nature. And perhaps what lay between he and her father could be resolved after all. He dropped his arms, looking at her again, calmer —subdued. “Did you mean what you said?” “Mean what?” The cool evening breeze touched her tear wet face. She took a corner of her cloak and wiped at the moisture on her cheeks. “You said you loved me.” Nicki dropped the fabric and straightened the folds of her cloak. She looked into his eyes. “Of course I meant it. I have loved you for some time.” “But we have not known each other very long, contrary to the belief of our guests.” Nicki shook her head. “Our hearts spoke one to the other long before we met.” He offered a skeptical smile. “That is a romantic notion only you would contrive.” “Be that as it may, it is what I believe. I am proud and grateful to be the one who will be your wife.” A guardedness lurked at the outer edges of his newfound peace, and she knew it would take very little for him to welcome its return. “This morning you said you were having pre-nuptial jitters. Have you solved your dilemma?” Without hesitation, Nicki responded. “I have. I am free to go forward now. And you?” “I have laid my soul bare enough this night. Suffice it to say that I am honored to be the man who has won your heart. I never thought to be so lucky.” It is enough for now. She stood with care, and gained her footing on the limb. “Good night, then.” He waited for her to cross the branch to the overhang, but she had no thought of falling. At that moment she could have danced on air. 
Chapter 20
Nicki moved toward her father’s study. Her skirts swished softly, almost in time to the music playing in the ballroom down the hall. Simms stood guard outside the closed study door, his posture ever stiff and unyielding. She risked a glance behind her, certain she would see Blake lounging against a doorframe, watching her as he had all evening. For the moment, the way stood clear. She moistened her lips as she reached Simms, then paused before him. Before she could speak, he bowed in greeting. “Lady Nicki, can I be of some assistance?” “Oh… goodness,” she murmured, giving the tall man what she hoped was a sympathetic smile. “Simms, I fear your face is darker tonight than it was this morning.” Nicki put her finger to her lips and contemplated his face for a long moment. “One of the seamstresses suggested a poultice of bread dough followed by a vinegar rinse,” she lied. The butler’s only outward reaction was the slightest raising of his dark brows. “I will most certainly attempt that upon retiring for the evening, Lady Nicki.”She nibbled at her lower lip in frustration. This was the night. All their plans depended upon her getting Simms away from the door to her father’s office. “It is a quick procedure. Your color is truly alarming. Have you been perspiring by chance?” “I most assuredly have not.” The butler drew himself up. “It is a mystery to me why the hue has deepened. Perhaps we should pose the question to Master Shelby.” “I am certain Em must have dough rising in the kitchen. I will cover for you here.” Simms glanced at the study door, obviously torn. “I am to ensure no one enters your father’s study. If you would be so kind as to watch for me…” “Of course I will.” Nicki interjected herself between Simms and the door. “You go on and I will be here upon your return.” Again the man hesitated. “But the ball—you shall be missed.” She shook her head brusquely. “I need the rest. Please, Simms, do run along. You’ll be finished in no time at all and then I can return to the party.” “Very well. Bread dough and a vinegar rinse? How long should the poultice be left on?” Nicki thought for a moment. How much time would Shelby need? “A half hour, Simms, and you must recline during the procedure. The yeast in the dough should draw the dye from your skin.” “I appreciate your kindness, Lady Nicki. I shall return directly.” As she watched him leave, Nicki experienced the slightest twinge of guilt. But the moment he was out of sight, she rushed to the breakfast room and rapped lightly on the door. It opened a sliver, revealing one bright blue eye. “Shelby, hurry! Simms will return soon.” Her brother opened the door, then turned to pick up his box. Nicki retrieved a pillow cover filled with Shelby’s necessities from the floor and followed him to their father’s study. “It takes twenty minutes to get everything set up. I’ll need your help to run the trip wire.” Nicki glanced into the hall before she eased the door closed. “Can you direct the spray to do as little damage to the furniture as possible?” Shelby peered out from under the desk. “I’ll try. Come here and hold this wire.” As her little brother worked efficiently, Nicki followed his instructions with a sense of awe. Before her eyes, Shelby transformed from a young, troublesome imp to a brilliant young man confident in his accomplishments. Feelings of sadness and loss overwhelmed her, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. Everyone grows up, she chastised herself. No matter how Mina or Shelby changed, no matter if they became spouses and parents, then grandparents, they would always be as special to her as they were right now. “Nick! Stop gatherin’ wool and hand me the jar from the bag.” Nicki did as she was told, still uncertain as to the accuracy of the spray. “You know your mother will make a pillow cushion of you if you ruin one piece of furniture.” “Ah, leave off, Nick! Em suggested sherry. It’ll still spray across the burglar and the smell should be easy to follow. I think she felt sorry for Simms havin’ to go about lookin’ like a big plum.” “Sherry? I suppose that should not do too much damage. Papa may become intoxicated from the fumes for several weeks. We may never see him leave this room.” Shelby crawled from beneath the desk and took his contraption to a tall cabinet used for old papers. He cleared several journals off the top and set the box in their place. This made the contraption slightly higher than Nicki’s head. She had another twinge of doubt. “Shelby, what if the person we are seeking is short. Will the sherry not pass right over their head?” He grinned as he pulled a chair to the cabinet and stepped onto it to gain a better view of the box. “I’ve got the machine set to spray out in a five foot circle. That should get anyone from my height to… to the earl’s.” That comment sobered them both. Nicki’s chest tightened. No. After the revelations he had made that night in the tree, she would not believe Blake capable of anything so dishonorable. No matter how angry he was with her father, he would not have anything to do with such despicable acts. She watched her brother work for several more moments. “I must go, Shelby. Are you finished?” He shook his head. “It’s takin’ longer than I thought. You go outside and keep watch. I’ll leave through the window.” “Just be careful getting back into the house.” Nicki shivered as she recalled her brush with disaster Wednesday night. If anything happened to Shelby, she would never forgive herself. After first checking the hall, Nicki slipped from the study and stood as casually as possible outside. Moments later, she saw Mina peek in from the drawing room doorway and motion toward the end of the hall. As her sister ducked back into the drawing room, Nicki spied Simms returning. She experienced a jolt of surprise at the sight of the butler, his face a glowing oblong of blue. He approached her with his usual stiffness. Arriving well before him was the overpowering, bitter scent of vinegar. Nicki’s eyes started to burn and then to tear. “Lady Nicki, I regret that the poultice was not a success.” How could she keep from laughing? Shelby had called him a big plum, well now he was a blueberry. She summoned a serious thought. “Simms, I am so sorry. But perhaps the color was beginning to fade. You must attempt the poultice again later tonight. I realize you are anxious to return to your duties at the moment.” Simms turned his watery gaze to her. “I believe I shall wait for the dye to fade on its own, my lady. If I continue changing colors, I shall be accused of having strange powers.” “I must say the blue is quite striking on you, Simms. A very handsome color.” A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, Lady Nicki, that is indeed comfort.” Nicki moved aside and Simms took her place near the door to the study. She listened, but could hear no sound. Perhaps her brother had finished. “I had best return to the dancing. I believe I have missed several and shall have to make them up. I am sorry the poultice did not work, Simms. I had such high hopes.” “As did I. But no matter. We tried, did we not?” She nodded. “Yes, we did.”  Blake scanned the drawing room. His attention paused on Mina, but none of her companions possessed hair of the palest gold shot through with pure sunlight. Damn, where was the little minx? She had given him the slip earlier in the evening and he seriously doubted her actions were coincidental. Another suspicion rose to the fore of his thoughts, unbidden and unwanted. His gaze once again swept the room, then paused on a figure in emerald green. There was that popinjay, Teddy, but Nicole was nowhere about. Bartholomew caught Blake’s look and raised his wineglass in a sarcastic salute. Manners required that he respond, so Blake raised his hand briefly before turning his attention elsewhere. Then he saw her. Standing in the opposite entrance to the drawing room, her cheeks flushed the color of rosebuds and her eyes sparkled until they threw every gem in the room into shadow. She was lovely. Ethereal. And she had obviously been up to something. He crossed the room in long swift strides and caught her before she could move from the doorway. The brilliance of her smile filled him with a sense of awe that a creature of light and joy could find such pleasure in his company. “And where have you been hiding? If I were a jealous man, I might believe you had been trysting with a lover.” She turned her head slightly, giving him a crooked smile. “You know full well you have nothing to fear. If anyone should be worried it is I.” With a quick step to the side, Blake came around Nicole and looked into the hall. The only occupant was a tall, slender man. “Good Lord, who is that?” Nicole touched her finger to her lips. “It is Simms. Who else?” “The man is as blue as the uniforms of the castle guard!” She tugged on his arm insistently, dragging him from the doorway. “Shhh! He will hear you!” Blake followed for several steps, then halted, pulling Nicole up short. “Is he not aware he is blue?” Obviously exasperated yet again by his apparent obtuseness, Nicole sighed. “Of course he knows, but he is rather sensitive on the subject.” “And well he should be. He resembles an oversized blueberry.” “I… I think it is a vast improvement over his earlier skin tone. Shelby called him a plum.” She tugged him between two groups of guests, smiling distractedly as a young man shouted a greeting. “It will wear off eventually, but why bedevil him over it in the meantime?” He eyed her curiously. Such a magnificent brain hiding under all that glorious hair—he imagined he could hear the incessant buzzing of schemes forming. “I promise I will behave as though nothing is untoward.” “Good. Now I want to dance. I believe you owe me at least three.” Blake was agreeable to any form of exercise in which he might hold Nicole close. “Very well, my dear. Lead the way.” She set out for the ballroom with single-minded determination. He followed, deep in thought. Tomorrow this lovely creature would belong to him. With her came that strong sense of loyalty and unbending devotion to those she loved that he found so intriguing, because she included him in her circle of family. She had said she loved him. Even now the memory of those words sent his heart soaring. No one had said those words to him since his mother. He had told himself time and again he did not need the love of another, that when love came it brought unbearable pain in its wake. But he found he wanted Nicole’s love. No, he craved it. And he would do anything to keep it. Anything. She glanced over her shoulder. Seeing that he followed her through the crush, she offered a bright grin. He smiled in answer. God, he had not smiled so much since… he could not remember. Nicole took both his hands and pulled him into the throng of dancers, coming into his arms with the lightness of air. But there was nothing transparent in the feel of her slim waist under his hand. “No matter how you turn your nose up at Angelica’s teachings, she did a wonderful job. You dance like an angel.” A charming flush tinged her dusky cheeks. “The lessons were tedious, but this clumsy country miss can hold her own amidst the ton. Angelica knew what she was about.” “It is a wonder she still has her sanity. If you had fallen out of that tree or been knocked from one of those great beasts you love, you might have been killed or maimed.” The gaiety left her face. “Angelica cares only for what is proper, not the injuries.” Blake forged ahead, knowing he tread upon dangerous soil. “She has known you for, what? Twelve years, thirteen? That is a very long time. It must have been difficult for her to remain aloof with two such delightful girls.” “I… I suppose I was not so delightful where she was concerned. If she said the day was cold I refused to wear my cloak and muff. If she said the red gown flattered me, I changed into the yellow.” “Ah. Contrariness. You must have been a great challenge to her.” Nicole’s gaze met his steadily, bright and shining with unshed tears. “Perhaps I have been. When my father brought her into our home only a few short months after my mother died… I could not welcome her.” “Even if it made him happy?” She shuddered slightly, then seemed to summon a control from deep within. Blake knew the tactic well, as it was one he practiced quite often. “The battle between Angelica and me has been a subtle one. My father is oblivious.” “You preach forgiveness to me, my little Nicole, but where is yours?” The tears disappeared to be replaced by the glint of anger. “I have not set out on a campaign to ruin Angelica, or inflict pain. My behavior has not caused her any hardship.” He raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Emotional revenge is much kinder than attacking a person’s finances.” “Why are we discussing Angelica when I want to talk about our wedding? Tell me, my Lord Diamond, are you pleased at all that tomorrow you shall give up all your freedom to become a married man?” Blake grinned. “Once I thought the gallows preferable to standing at the altar to take a wife. But by marrying you, I shall have the best of both worlds. Is life not grand?” Her sublime grace disappeared and she trod heavily upon his foot. Blake winced, eyeing her suspiciously. Her lips curved sweetly. “It certainly is, my lord.”  “Nicki, I think the dosage is several drops. We do not wish to kill him!” Mina glanced out the kitchen door, then returned her attention to Nicki. “Simms is quite tall, Mina, therefore I am certain he needs a larger dose than most people.” Mina stared at the cup before them wide-eyed. “He’s tall, but not robust.” Nicki straightened and frowned at her sister in impatience. “This was your idea. If you think you can do better, then by all means take over.” Mina blanched, her blue eyes widened as she looked at the bottle Nicki held. “No. No. I took the laudanum from Angelica’s room, you do the rest.” With a sigh, Nicki finished tidying the tea tray. “Of course, you do the thieving and leave the murder up to me.” Both girls glanced around the clean kitchen. Em and her staff had long ago retired for the evening and they found Simms’ tea tray awaiting him, just as they knew it would. The round teapot sat wrapped in its quilted cozy with a small silver dish containing sugar to the left of the cup and saucer. A silver spoon rested upon a linen napkin. Nicki slipped the vial of laudanum into a hidden pocket in the folds of her gown. “Perhaps I should take the tray to Simms. He may become suspicious if you are too solicitous,” Mina suggested. Nicki nodded. “That is a good idea. Tell him it was Papa’s suggestion, since it is by his orders that Simms must watch the study.” “That would be good.” As Mina appeared to be rooted in the doorway, Nicki picked up the tray and carried it to her. “Remember to pour his first cup. He must not see the laudanum in the bottom.” “Nicki, are you certain about this?” She was not sure at all, but she also would not quit now. “He will be fine. In fact, this will likely be the most restful night’s sleep he has had in years.” “I hope so. Poor Simms. He shall never forgive us. First Shelby dyes him purple, then you turn him blue, and now I am poisoning him.” Nicki took Mina’s shoulders and turned her around. “You are not poisoning him, you are drugging him. And if you do not hurry, the laudanum will not take effect before morning.” “This is just dreadful, Nicki. What would Charles think?” “He would think what a brave girl you are. Now run along! If I do not return to the party someone will come looking for us.” Mina’s gaze locked on the tea tray and Nicki guided her way with a light touch. “I wanted you to meet Charles. He leaves for London soon, and you’ll be married after tomorrow.” “If he is that tall blond gentleman with the gorgeous smile I saw with you earlier, I shall take extra pains to ensure he and Blake rekindle their familial relationship.” A dreamy smile touched Mina’s lips. “He’s very special, Nicki.” Nicki grinned. “If his personality is anything like his looks, he must be charming indeed. I had begun to worry about your taste in men when you found Blake too frightening, but you are right about your Charles. He is very handsome.” “There you are, Nick. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Mina gasped and would have dropped the tray if Nicki had not reached out to steady it. Fighting down irritation, she faced him. “Teddy! You could cause an accident sneaking up on a person like that!” Looking from the trembling china to Mina’s white face, he finally fastened his gaze on Nicki. “Have all the servants come down with Simms’ affliction?” With an inaudible murmur, Mina leaned forward and bolted past Teddy as though expecting him to give chase. Nicki watched her for a moment, then with a deep breath returned her attention to Teddy, who continued to watch Mina curiously. “We were merely being nice. It is time for Simms’ evening tea and he has not been feeling all that well lately.” “Whatever is the matter with him? This morning I could have sworn he was the color of lilacs, but I just spotted him in the hall a moment ago and he was— blue.” Nicki nibbled at her lower lip. “It is not contagious, Teddy, so you need not look so worried.” “Then what’s wrong with him?” “He—well—he ate one of Em’s blueberry pies and—and the berries were not quite ripe—and he…” A frown creased Teddy’s brow. “I should say they were not ripe. Are there any on the vines at all?” “Actually—they were from last summer. Yes, they were from last spring and Em tried to dry them—and they were not ripe when she picked them. At any rate, Simms had a reaction to them.” “I should say he did. I hope Em is not planning to feed the pie to anyone else.” “Oh, no. Simms ate the whole pie.” Nicki silently said a prayer that she would not be struck dead for such blatant lies, or for her relative skill in rattling them off. Teddy glanced toward the open door leading into the ballroom, then down the hall where Mina and Simms were intent on the tea tray. “I must speak with you, Nicki. I’ve waited too long as it is.” Nicki clenched her hands into fists as Mina poured the tea and handed the cup to Simms, holding her breath as he sipped the tea, then added a spoonful of sugar. With a sickly smile, Mina backed away, then darted into the drawing room. Simms settled into a chair near the study door, the saucer balanced on one crossed knee, the teacup in his hand. He seemed to be enjoying the drink immensely. Nicki hoped his pleasure still remained an hour from now. “Nicki? Did you hear me?” She flashed Teddy a guilty look. “I am sorry. What did you say?” “I said I need to speak to you in private. Should we go outside?” Nicki shook her head. “No, it is much too cold tonight and a deucedly thick fog has settled in. Let us retire to the breakfast room. But you must be quick, Teddy. I have been away too long already.” Teddy pushed the door open and stood aside to allow Nicki to pass. A single lamp cast a weak glow throughout the room. Teddy hurried to turn up the wick. The atmosphere still seemed entirely too intimate, so Nicki retrieved two candlesticks from the table and used the flame in the lamp to light them, then returned them to their place on the long table. Satisfied with the added illumination, she gave Teddy her undivided attention. “So what is it you needed to tell me?” He pulled a chair away from the table and rested one booted foot upon the seat. “I wanted to again try to dissuade you from marrying Dylan. I know you believe in him, Nick, but he’s not worth your regard.” “I will not listen to this on the night before my wedding, Teddy. This conversation is over.” To prove her words, she marched toward the door. “Nicki, wait!” The harshness of his voice halted her mid stride; Nicki looked around at him in surprise. “Whatever is the matter with you?” “It’s you I’m worried about. I thought you would’ve seen through him by now and call off this farce of a wedding. But you become more enthralled with him each day.” After stepping closer to the chair, Nicki rested her hands on the carved back. Her grip tightened as she searched for the proper words to convince Teddy once and for all that she loved another. “He is my future, just as you are my past. I want to continue our friendship, but you make it impossible by maligning Blake at every turn. Why will you not leave well enough alone, Teddy, and trust that I am going to be happy?” He covered both her hands with one of his. “Because I know him. I know what he’s capable of, and I know the code you live by, Nick. You’ve placed him in your heart as a knight, a great warrior. He is neither.” She jerked free. “You have said nothing thus far to convince me he is not everything I believe him to be.” “Why do you refuse to trust me?” The plaintive cry touched her heart. Once, she might have listened to Teddy without doubt, but she no longer felt the blind adoration of a child for an older, wiser friend. She had left that little girl behind and was now a woman. A woman in love with a man who would be her husband by this time tomorrow. “He is my destiny,” she said simply. Teddy thrust himself away from the chair with such force he sent it clattering backwards to the floor. He faced her, frustration and anguish twisting his handsome features into a mask of despair. “Sweet, stubborn Nicki. It was not so long ago your faith belonged to me!” “I was a little girl, Teddy. You have not set eyes on me for six years. How can you think to now know my heart?” “I know your goodness and that part of you that searches for the best in everyone. It only proves your youth and inexperience that you believe you love Dylan.” He strode around the fallen chair to take her shoulders. Nicki stiffened beneath his touch, then relaxed slightly when his fingers remained gentle. “You know nothing of men. You could never imagine anyone like him. It’s not in you.” “The local boys have come around and I enjoyed their company. They tried to sneak a kiss in the gardens on a summer night. I never wanted anything from them but friendship. In my heart I believed I waited for you. I always thought ‘Teddy will give me my first kiss.’ But you stayed away. When Blake came, I did not want to care for him. I tried to maintain loyalty to you. But he touched something deep inside me even you never reached. And what he brought out was not the girl you knew, Teddy. She was the woman I have become. I cannot say it any more clearly than that. I love him. With all that I am and will ever be, I love him.” Teddy spun away from her and strode to the window. Nicki watched him, her chest filling with pain that echoed his. “He doesn’t deserve you.” “Yes, he does.” The silence stretched between them. Nicki sighed, went to the window and leaned against the opposite casing. The moonlight shimmered in Teddy’s tawny hair and his profile appeared angelic in the pale light. Then she saw tears streaming down his cheek and cringed inwardly from the extent of the harm she had done him. “You leave me no option.” He looked down at her, one side of his mouth curving upward, though the smile avoided entering his eyes. “I must tell you everything.” Nicki raised her chin. “Nothing you can say will change my feelings.” “We’ll see, I suppose.” “Say what you will. I have been gone from the party much too long.” “I told you once that I had known Blake here in England.” When Teddy returned his gaze to the window, Nicki felt a chill and crossed her arms. “It was an understatement. Blake and I were at college together. We were best friends.” “But you brought home so many friends. I think I would remember Blake.” “He never came home with me, though I think he would have liked to. His father kept him on a short tether. You see, Blake liked women. He never gave his attentions to just one, though. His taste was discriminating. He preferred them unusually beautiful, wealthy, cultured, and—married.” Alarm jolted through Nicki, followed closely by denial. “Impossible! Blake is much too honorable.” “He wanted no attachments, Nick, and he went to great pains to avoid them—something to do with his mother abandoning him as a child, I think.” Thoughts spun about in her head with no order, but she grasped for one in desperation. Blake had been young and unable to deal with the feelings of betrayal and loss. “Is that all? If it is I must return to the party. Blake will have missed me.” Teddy leaned his head back to stare at the moon. “God, I wish it were all, Nick. For your sake.” “Tell me, Teddy!” “He and I were close. As I said, we were best friends. One day he came to me more excited than I had ever seen him and said he had found the ultimate prize. She was married to a duke and appeared to be in love with the man. Blake said she was exquisite, with eyes like emeralds. He planned to seduce her, saying she would be his greatest challenge.” Chills fluttered up Nicki’s arms and she clutched her arms tightly about her waist. The desire to run from this room, find Blake, and never delve into the past nearly overcame her. “He wanted me to deliver a note to her bedchamber. He said he’d bribed her maid and learned which room belonged to her. I refused. He was furious. Said he would take it himself. The duke and duchess were supposed to be at the theater, but they returned home early and caught Blake in her bedchamber. He was nearly home free. He had left a note on her pillow and was just leaving through the window. The duke grabbed him and dragged him back into the room. When Blake refused to tell him why he was there, the duke became enraged. He saw the note—read it. He recognized Blake because he knew the old earl, Blake’s father. Blake was hauled from the house like a naughty child. Barrett Dylan was awakened and Blake was tossed at the feet of his father. The earl was furious, but he still might have let the matter go. It was the woman’s husband who insisted on satisfaction. It was then that Blake’s father sent him away from England.” Tears streamed down Nicki’s cheeks. Blake’s unbending pride—something that was not learned, or adopted as a young man, but inbred over generations. To have been treated so must have humiliated him. And to be forced to face his father in disgrace when he had worked so hard to please him… “My poor Blake,” she whispered. “Poor Blake! Dear God, were you not listening, Nick! The woman he intended to seduce was Angelica. The duke was your father. Now you know why Blake hates him so much. It was because of him that the old earl finally washed his hands of his son. But within two years Blake had earned a fortune of his own. He began bleeding Jonathon dry. When I came to America, I fell into his hands as well. He blamed me because I had refused to deliver the note that night. If I had been a better friend, he never would have been caught.” Nicki shook her head. No, it was too much. Tears choked her. She would not believe it. Not Blake and Angelica. But so much suddenly made sense. It explained her father’s unholy rage the night he came to Rosewood to ‘rescue her.’ She remembered thinking that Blake could well have murdered her father that night, so tangible was the animosity between them. Words flashed through her mind, then spun away. Blake telling her he never wanted to befriend her father. Her father trying to explain how dangerous Blake was. So many words, yet they had not spoken the ones that mattered. The simple truth. She collapsed against the cold glass as the extent of their betrayal washed over her. Sobs rose from some dark place within her where everything most precious to her had lain safe and protected, and was now broken and bleeding. These people had turned her world upside down with their deceit. And she had let them. Teddy pulled her into his arms, but Nicki refused the comfort offered by his embrace. This nightmare belonged to her alone and she would endure the pain alone. Nothing Teddy did now could take it away. She heard his voice, but she had passed beyond coherence. The hoarse murmur grated across the frayed and jagged edges of her consciousness and Nicki thrust him away. “Leave… me…” Nicki fought his hands. She would go mad if he did not stop touching her. The image of her mother’s still face returned to haunt her. She had failed again. Failed. From far in the distance she heard a soft click, like a knob snapping back into place after a door has been closed. Nicki slipped along the glass to the floor, drawing her knees close to her chest. She closed her eyes and her soul drifted into the colorless void of the past. If only she could go back—back to the time before her mother had died. Somehow, she would find a way to change whatever it was that made others not love her as deeply as she loved them—whatever flaw in her personality that drove them to hide their pain from her. Was she weak? That must be it. She had to be stronger. Strong enough to prove she could take care of anything, could meet any obstacle head on. But it was too late. Too late to help her mother. Too late to… To what? Nicki tried to remember. She searched frantically in her mind, but her head hurt so badly. The pain sliced a swath behind her eyes, until Nicki reached up to hold her temples. She could no longer gather her thoughts. But she had to. Had to decide what to do. What to do. “Nicki? Nicki, it’s Mina.” The soft voice drifted across the piercing ache in her head and Nicki opened her eyes. Mina. Mina kneeling before her and looking desperately afraid. With a supreme effort, Nicki summoned a reassuring smile. Her face felt stiff and swollen. “I… I am not feeling very well, Mina.” “What happened? What did Teddy do to you?” Nicki shivered with reaction. That was it. Teddy. Blake and Angelica and her father. Too late. “He did nothing. Nothing at all. What time is it, Mina?” Confused, Mina glanced across the room to the clock. “One o’clock. Most of the guests have retired. Blake has been looking for you.” “Would you do something for me?” “Anything, Nicki.” She felt so brittle inside, as though she would shatter into a thousand tiny fragments. “Give me just a few minutes to… to tidy up.” She reached out to grasp Mina’s hand. “Then bring Papa, Angelica, and Blake here to me.” Blue eyes welled up with tears that spilled over. “Nicki, tell me what has happened this instant. If Teddy has hurt you…” “Please, sister. Bring them here. I promise I will tell you everything tomorrow. But not now.” After a moment’s hesitation, Mina stood and backed several steps. Her lip trembled and she fled the room. Nicki reached out for the window casing and pulled herself up. With her eyes closed, Nicki concentrated only on breathing in and out. She forced all other thoughts from her mind. Gradually, the trembling in her arms and legs lessened. The first time she had practiced this trick had been after her mother’s funeral. That thought she quickly banished to hide with the others until she could deal with each in turn. She faced the window. Her eyes stared back at her, huge and skeletal. Small wonder Mina had been so frightened. Nicki wiped at her face with her hands, then pinched color into her cheeks. The last thing she wanted was for her appearance to detract from the confrontation to come. A vanquished general did not wish to reveal any weakness to his conqueror. When Nicki heard the footsteps in the hall, and the murmur of voices, she moved away from the window. She would not cower in the shadows. They had treated her like a child. Let them see how wrong they had been.  First came Angelica, followed by her father and then Blake. Nicki feared her back might break if she stood any straighter. She avoided Blake’s gaze as he closed the door and leaned a shoulder against it in studied casualness. Instead, she turned her attention to Angelica. “What on earth is all this about, Nicole? You have been disappearing all evening. What have you been up to now?” Bitterness uncurled inside Nicki, yet she fought it down. “I assure you, Angelica, my activities are quite dull when compared to those shared by the three of you. I have been privy to an amazing tale and I could not wait to share it with all of you.” With shoulders slumped, her father righted the chair Teddy had overturned and sank into the seat. Angelica hurried to stand behind him and rested her hand lightly on his back. The silence stretched tighter. Nicki saw Blake cross his arms and tip one booted foot up to rest it against the other. No matter how they all attempted to hide it,she felt their alarm. And still no one spoke. She looked at her father. “Stop me if you have heard the story. It is about a young man at college who set out to seduce the wife of a duke and was caught by her husband.” The words cut into her heart. Knowing how Blake had tried repeatedly to please Barrett Dylan, only to fail with every effort, the thought that her father had held the ax that delivered the final blow to sever their relationship tormented her. No matter how justified her father might have been in his behavior, the damage had been permanent and irreversible. Blake’s father had died with the rift still firmly in place. She remembered her father telling her that Blake had suffered most of all. Now she understood. “We thought it best to wait…” Angelica’s voice drifted into silence. “Did you not trust me? Am I so foolish and immature that you could not treat me as an equal? Of course not. If you had shared your tale with me, I might have been difficult. Keep little Nicki in the dark and biddable.” “That wasn’t the case at all, Nick. No one wanted to hurt you.” “Hurt me?” Nicki laughed, but the sound was brittle and harsh, and her father winced. “Or yourselves?” Blake spoke, his voice husky with some emotion Nicki could not define. “Those events are best left to the past, my dear. They hold no place in our future.” She shook her head. “But they do, can you not see? They color everything as dark as night. I wanted to take away your bitterness, to welcome you into my family so that you could know their love as I had. You made me look the fool.” “You are the only person in my life who made me believe I might come out of the darkness,” he said quietly. “Yet you could not trust me with the truth? Did you think I would not understand? I do. I blame none of you for what happened. We are all human. What I cannot accept is that the three of you made a conscious decision to deceive me.” She looked at Blake and fought to maintain control. “You of all people should know what it is like to be protected from the truth. It is the ultimate betrayal.” Pushing himself from the door, Blake advanced toward Nicki. Yet when she raised her hands sharply to ward him off, he halted several feet from her. “I would have told you in time. This marriage has come about so quickly, but we were becoming closer, were we not?” “You would have told me in time? When would that have been, Blake? After the birth of our first child? Perhaps after our third? When would you have trusted me not to leave you?” She swiped angrily at her tears. “You should have learned from your father how time passes and it becomes so easy to maintain silence. Then we die and it is too late. I gave you my heart—trusted you with everything I held most dear. But you gave only what you felt was safe.” “I care for you, Nicole. More than you know…” “No!” Pain surged upward from her chest bringing with it fury at her own naiveté. “I—gave—you— my—love!” As Nicki’s words reverberated off the walls, mocking her, chastising him, his fists clenched and he dropped his gaze to the carpet. Through her tear-blurred vision she saw her father with his elbows resting on his thighs, his head bent as he stared at his folded hands. Then she met Angelica’s glittering gaze. No, she did not blame Blake for loving her stepmother, and she doubted if she could ever feel she measured up to such a standard. Blake took another step forward, then stopped to drag his fingers through his dark hair. “The wedding tomorrow…” Her raised hand silenced him again. “If you force me to make a decision now…” She took a deep breath, then released it slowly. Her gaze raised to meet Blake’s impenetrable grey eyes. Still he guarded his emotions, even after all this, and that fact shattered her heart. “You will have my answer in the morning. That is the most I can offer you now.” A muscle flinched in his jaw. “I want us to be married. Please…” She gripped her hands together tightly. How she loved him, but that love was one-sided. That she might have borne, but deceit… “I do not know what I want. Can you not see? Everything I believed in is a lie. If you had just shared something of the truth, perhaps I could have understood the depth of your hostility toward my father. Perhaps I would not have been so hopeful that we could all be a family.” She glanced at her father, then to Angelica, shaking her head. “You all knew my hopes, yet you continued to let me go on playing the idiot. And I played it well, did I not?” “You are hurting now and saying things you do not mean. I think you know we were only protecting you.” Angelica’s voice rang with firm authority. Dear Angelica, always in control of the situation. “Teddy said all along that I needed to know the reason for Blake’s hatred, but he felt that one of you should tell me.” Her father rubbed his face with his hands. “There just wasn’t time, Nick.” She nodded as she bit her lip to still its trembling. Her father sounded so lost and uncertain. How well she understood him—that innate sense that everything would work out if just left alone. “I told Teddy tonight that he no longer knew my heart. Now—I wonder if perhaps he is not the only one who does.” Blake reached for her, but when she cringed from his touch he dropped his hand to his side. “We will get through this, Nicole, I swear it.” “I am so tired. As I said, you shall have my answer soon. Damn all of you for your secrets!” She brushed past Blake and escaped to the door. Sobs threatened to choke her, but she would not break down here. Nicki flung open the door and rushed into the hall. She heard the door slam against the wall from the force of her passing. Solemn faces danced in her mind’s vision and the fact that she caused them pain only deepened her own misery. Still, she wanted them to feel as forlorn and stricken as she. No. No she did not. If she could have taken all their pain on herself she would. She loved them that much. Even Angelica. Dear Heaven, how had she come to this? Nicki slowed her headlong rush at the stairs, reached out to clutch at the smooth mahogany banister. With a deep breath, she pulled herself up, first one step, then another. Tomorrow should have been the most glorious day of her life and she should be dancing up these stairs. Now she dreaded the arrival of the dawn. If only she could sleep and awaken years from now with all this in the past. She stumbled on the top stair, recovered her balance and veered toward her room. Her feet dragged along the floral carpeting, each step a supreme act of determination. Nicki paused outside her door. Josey. Where would she find the strength to face her aunt’s questions? She pushed open the door, pausing to survey the room. A lamp burned near the bed. The bedclothes were turned down invitingly. But Josey was not in the room. After she closed the door, Nicki collapsed back against its smooth wood. What was she to do? So few options stood open to her. She could marry a man who did not love her, or she could marry a man she did not love. There it was. She had told Blake she could disappear, yet now, when she had a reason to go, she knew with a crushing certainty that such an action would destroy her. Across the room, the dressing table drew her gaze. The music box her mother had given her. It beckoned her, just as it always had in her most distressed moments. Nicki dropped onto the small stool and reached for the porcelain box with the tiny bewigged and ornately dressed lady adorning its top. She missed her mother so much. Her fingers trembled as she picked up the music box and lifted the hinged lid. As delicate music filled the room, tears trickled down her cheeks. Here in the privacy of her own bedchamber, Nicki could allow them to fall unheeded. Gently she slipped her fingernail into a puckered space at the edge of the tufted velvet lining until the fabric lifted. She grasped the corner of a yellowed slip of folded paper and removed it from its hiding place, then returned the music box to the dressing table. The music wound down into silence. A vague scent of lavender drifted from the page as she unfolded it, her hands gentle in deference to its fragility. The words had faded over time, but Nicki still experienced the same intense sadness at the sight of the delicate flourishes in Marguerite’s handwriting. Tonight, I learned that all I have loved is gone forever. Our marriage was a mistake, husband, for both of us. I leave you now to find my own peace. I know you will find yours with my passing. Go to her, as I go to him. Time moves too quickly to waste a single moment. We fulfilled our duty to everyone else. It is time to be true to ourselves. Marguerite. Nicki’s breath caught on a sob. She had never understood the words as a child, yet somehow they took on a sacred meaning now. ‘All I have loved is gone forever.’ Such hopeless despair. But she said she went to him. To whom? The answer eluded her, as it had each time she read the missive. 
Chapter 21
 “I suspected Marguerite had taken her own life,” Nicki stiffened at the sound of her stepmother’s voice, but did not turn around, “but there was no evidence. I know your father would have told me if he had known, so that means he did not. It seems you have kept secrets of your own, Nicole.” She had not heard Angelica enter the room. “What purpose would it have served to share it with him? He was so happy to marry you. I had never seen him so happy.” “I now understand a little better your animosity toward me.” With a whisper of silk skirts, Angelica moved to stand next to the dressing table. “You believe your mother killed herself because of your father’s relationship with me.” “She was so sad. Nothing I did could take away her pain, no matter how hard I tried. He could have changed that, but he chose not to. He chose you instead. And he broke her heart.” Angelica reached out to trace the jagged edges of the velvet lining in the music box. “I could allow you to believe that, but it would be a discredit to your father and to you. Your mother never loved your father.” Nicki started to object. “No, let me finish. Marguerite’s and Jonathon’s fathers had made an agreement to join their families when their children were small. But she fell in love with another, and Jonathon loved me. He tried to convince his father to break the contract. I believe Marguerite tried with her own father, but to no avail. They were married and they were miserable. I, too, married. He was much older than I and left me a widow after only two years of marriage. I had no children of my own, no one to ease my loneliness. Except Jonathon. We risked great scandal to be together. I never meant to hurt your mother, Nicole. My love for your father was so strong—sometimes the depth of my emotion terrified me.” With infinite care, Nicki placed the letter next to the music box. Her eyes burned from too many tears. When she looked at Angelica she saw with surprise that the woman had been crying as well. “What you did was wrong. You took my father away from her. There was no chance that they could ever find love with each other when my father found it with you!” Though Nicki had never known her stepmother to shed a tear, Angelica’s eyes glittered emerald through the moisture. “They never understood each other. Your mother held an ideal in her heart of the man she wanted. I knew that man, Nicole. His name was William, and he was a poet, a dreamer—so very different from your softhearted, down-to-earth father. All Jonathon has ever wanted is his family and his toy factory—and sharing the horses with you. He could never have been what Marguerite wanted him to be.” “They had Mina and me. Why was that not enough?” “You are still so naive, Nicole! Your mother refused your father entrance to her bedchamber after Mina was born. She told him he disgusted her. For any marriage to succeed, both parties have to want it to.” She drew a shivery breath. “Perhaps neither of them tried hard enough, but it does not matter now. Marguerite is gone. She is probably at peace for the first time since she was forced to marry a man she did not love. Your father is happy, and I like to think I have had something to do with that.” Nicki shook her head in denial of the words that rang with too much truth. “You were not here, in this home. How can you know anything about my mother?” “I admit I only heard your father’s side, and I drew my conclusions from what he told me. I do not blame your mother. I put the blame on no one. It was a sad twist of fate that brought the two of them together, but look what came of their unhappy union! Two beautiful daughters. Your father is so proud of his girls.” “But you meant more to him than any of us,” Nicki could not withhold the despair from clouding her voice. “No. He could have left all of you behind to be with me, but he did not. He maintained his role as Marguerite’s husband and your father. I took what was left, and that had to be enough for me then. I needed him so much I was willing to accept him on any terms.” Nicki rubbed her eyes. Her heart had become a stone in her breast, heavy with the combined pain of past and present. “Nothing you say can change the fact that my mother took her own life. Whether my father was directly responsible or indirectly, he was the ultimate cause.” Angelica leaned on the marble surface of the table, bringing her face close to Nicki’s. “No, he was not.” “You cannot know that!” Pulling a side chair from against the wall nearby, Angelica placed it near Nicki and sat down. She folded her hands in her lap, straightening her back instinctively. “I will tell you what I do know, Nicole, because you have tortured yourself over this. I had no concept of how much until this night.” Nicki dropped her gaze to Angelica’s hands folded in her lap. Long, slender hands with tapering fingers. “You could not have known.” “I should have. There was a ball the night your mother died, and I was there, as well. I overheard several women talking to Marguerite. They told her that both sons who had lived in the estate neighboring her parents’ home had been killed in a carriage accident. It was a tragedy, they said. Neither man had ever married and so the estate would go to a distant cousin upon the death of the parents. The women were not aware of Marguerite’s feelings for the oldest son, though I am not certain they would have spared her if they had. “She looked at me, but I do not believe she saw anything but the horror in her own mind. There was an expression in her eyes… I cannot describe the agony I saw there. The next day your father came to me and informed me she had died during the night. He said she was lying on her bed, still dressed in the gown she had worn to the ball.” A sob erupted from deep in Nicki’s chest, and she covered her face with her hands. After a moment, she clasped her hands together and held them to her heartwhile her mind spiraled back in time. Back to a night she had wrapped carefully in dark cloth and kept hidden away. Until now. “She looked like the princess in the story of Sleeping Beauty that she had read to me so many times. I climbed up onto the bed and kissed her cheek, pretending I was her Prince Charming. But her face was so… cold. She was like a beautiful marble statue. The note crackled beneath my leg and I picked it up. I tried to wake her, but she was so stiff, as though she would break beneath my hands. “When I heard a sound in the hall, I hid under the bed, so frightened I did not come out, even when I heard my father’s shout. I had never heard my father cry until that night. The doctor came, servants came and left in hysterics. Still I stayed under the bed, curled into a ball. I wanted to make myself disappear. I was so terrified they would find me there and think I had hurt her somehow. But I would never have hurt her! She was everything to me. All I ever wanted was for her eyes to smile when her mouth did. I only wanted her to be happy.” Angelica leaned forward to pull Nicki into her arms. Somehow, the soft scented neck and soothing voice reached deep into the dark recesses of grief and misery. But Nicki fought the kindness, hanging on to her sorrow and her guilt, for they were all she had left of the mother she had loved. “You were everything to her, Nicole, but you must understand how a woman’s heart works. Your mother loved this man very much. That love dwelt in a different place from the love she had for you and for Mina. Her despair was so strong, it overwhelmed her. She truly believed she would only continue to hurt the ones she loved most by remaining in the world.” “Losing her was like dying myself. How could she not know how much I loved her, how much I wanted her to go on living?” Angelica took Nicki’s shoulders, forcing their gazes to meet and hold. “That is what you wanted. What of her? Now that you are a woman, can you not put yourself in her place? If you were to lose Blake, would you not feel as though your heart was withering inside you? Could you spare a thought for your father or Mina, or Shelby, with such pain filling your entire being?” Nicki thought of Blake and the anguish she had felt when she had learned of his betrayal. Yes, she could understand such a feeling only too well. But it did not lessen her grief. “I wish I had known of this long ago. We have wasted too much time as enemies. I love your father very much, Nicole. I have since I was a small child. Can you not forgive me for that?” “It has nothing to do with forgiving you. I—I have not been fair. It was my father I blamed, but I loved him too much. Better to transfer all my anger to you.” “You were a little girl, not responsible for their happiness. None of what happened was your fault.” Blake had once said the same thing, but they did not understand how much she had loved Marguerite. Her mother was perfect in every way, truly a Sleeping Beauty come to life. Everything that Nicki wanted to be. Would never be. “I worry so much that… If I could not make my own mother love me enough to stay with me…” “I will hear no more of that nonsense! You are a precious, delightful girl. If I have been hard on you it is because I feared you would get into trouble and be hurt—as I was.” “But I am nothing like you. Mina has always been your favorite because she is a lady, as you are. I could never be what you expected.” Angelica lifted Nicki’s chin. “Mina is Marguerite made over and I have worried over her for that very reason. But you…” “I am like my father.” “No. You are like me, so very much like me when I was a girl that it frightens me. You have a strength, a resiliency, but you lack self control.” “Like my father.” “No, like me.” “But you are the perfect lady!” Angelica stared into Nicki’s eyes for a moment. She took a long, deep breath. “I want to tell you a story about a girl, younger than you are now, though very much like you. She loved life and skipped blithely along without a thought to the consequences of her actions. She loved a man, but he was pledged to another. The man loved her as well and though they longed to be together, their parents would not hear of it. So they stole what moments they could. Then the day came when the man was married to the other and the meetings stopped.” Angelica brushed the tears away from her eyes, but her face had taken on a glow. “Several weeks later, the girl learned she was with child—his child. She was terrified. Suddenly, she must account for something she had done, and pay the price for her willfulness. She told her mother about the baby. Her mother told her father. Decisions were made without her involvement. They would remain in the country. Her mother’s health was poor, and that excuse was given to their friends and acquaintances. When the baby was born it would be sent away and the girl would never see it again. A marriage with a respectable widower was arranged, to occur several months after the birth.” In a cocoon of black velvet, Nicki listened to her stepmother’s words. A tightness entered her chest. She sensed a building momentum, as though Angelica were about to reveal something Nicki did not wish to hear. Could not bear to hear. “The girl had more spunk than that.” Angelica continued. “She knew she must pay for her actions, and she agreed to the marriage. But she would not have her child sent away to strangers. She spoke to the father of the baby and his wife. An agreement was reached.” Angelica rubbed her eyes as though she could wipe away the rawness of her emotions. “The girl’s parents agreed that when the child was born, it would go to the father and his new wife to be raised as their own. Time passed. The girl grew attached to the baby inside her. When the little girl was born, she held her for several minutes and she gave her a name. As she handed the infant over to her new mother, she said, ‘Her name shall be Nicole.’” Disbelief washed over Nicki in horrifying, pounding waves. Yet she knew. Had somehow always known. The girl was Angelica and the baby had been her. Angelica had turned her over to Marguerite. “This is a fairy tale!” “Perhaps so—because the girl later married the father and became the mother to her own child as she had always wanted to be.” “Stop speaking of yourself as if this all happened to a stranger!” Angelica stood still, the twisting of her hands the only sign of the extent of her distress. “It is the only way I have been able to live with what occurred! You say I have been hard on you, well perhaps I have. I could not allow you to follow in my footsteps. I thought my heart had been cleaved from my breast when Jonathon married Marguerite, but that pain was nothing compared to what it cost me to hand you over to them.” Nicki’s hands clenched into fists so tightly the nails bit into her palms. She welcomed the external hurt. “She never let on—never treated me any differently than she treated Mina.” “And for that I will be eternally grateful to her. If she had been unkind, I could not have left you with her. But when I came those few times for visits, you were so happy and loved her so very much. I knew I could never take you from her. She had become your mother in every respect. But that did not mean that I did not want to watch you grow—that I did not long to be with you.” Nicki buried her face in her hands. It was suddenly all so clear. Marguerite had not treated her any differently than Mina because she had not cared that Papa loved another. Had not cared because she had never loved him. “Why tell me now? You could have told me long ago!” “Jonathon wanted to tell you after we were married, but I saw the way you idolized Marguerite. I could not bear to take that from you.” Nicki closed her eyes. Little incidents she had so resented became suddenly clear. The way Angelica stepped in after her marriage to her father—so eager to become mother to his children. Her kindness and concern for Mina, which Nicki had always viewed with skepticism, was now cast in a new light. Angelica had returned a favor to Marguerite by loving Mina as Marguerite had loved Nicki. But there was a difference that lent Angelica’s treatment of Mina a gentleness. Angelica loved Mina’s father. She squeezed her eyelids closed more tightly and fought the scream that threatened to explode from the deepest recesses of her soul. For as long as she could remember Nicki had feared giving in to this pain. Its intensity was such that she knew she could never control it—never make it stop. “Nicole, I have loved you from the moment I learned you were growing inside me. I loved you too much to send you away to strangers. I had to be able to know you were well and happy.” Nicki nodded, acknowledging the truth in the words. “I know.” Angelica’s hands on her shoulders drew her near. Nicki struggled to escape the hold, fought against it. The dark chasm of madness yawned before her—ever threatening because there would be no end once she began to fall. “Stop it, Nicole! Stop hiding. You loved Marguerite and I think you must know how much you meant to her. I told you the truth for two reasons. The first is that, selfishly, I wanted you to know. But secondly, and more important, you needed to realize that you were not responsible for her unhappiness. If anything, you gave her something to live for. But she had a hole deep inside her no one could fill. Not even you. No matter how much you wanted to.” The chasm loomed closer, but Angelica’s voice surrounded her. With a sob Nicki went into her waiting arms. A heavy blackness descended over her—swirled and caught at her, dragging her into its dizzying vortex. Hot tears scalded down her face, and the breath in her lungs disappeared into the nothingness. She could not breathe. She felt Angelica’s hold tighten, became aware of sobs shaking the woman’s slender frame. “Oh, God, my baby.” A warmth trickled down through the coldness surrounding Nicki, and she felt herself lifted from the edge of void and carried back toward the light. It could not be possible that she remembered being held as a newborn, but there was a rightness about this—a comfort and security she had never experienced with Marguerite. Somehow she had always felt she must be the one to give love, but now it felt good to receive it. She took a deep breath and pulled away, but her hands reached out to clasp Angelica’s tightly. “I owe you an apology. I… I just did not know.” Angelica offered a watery smile. “How could you? You were just a child dealing with grown-ups and their complicated emotions. You acted in the only way you knew—you took the responsibility onto yourself. It never belonged there.” “I know that now—thanks to you.” Angelica sighed, her gaze searched Nicki’s face. “I hope we can be friends.” “As we are to be neighbors, perhaps we can start there. I… I think I shall like having you for a mother —now that I think I understand you better.” “I have been so afraid you would make the same mistakes I made that I did not take the time to give you what you needed. I was too new at being a mother. I hope I have done better with Shelby.” “I am truly sorry for all that happened to you. The pain you must have felt…” “Since I married Jonathon, all that had nearly been erased. I was happy in my marriage, but it pained me that I did not know how to get close to you. Perhaps that can now become a part of the past as well.” Nicki pressed Angelica’s cold hands. “I promise to let it go—if you will.” Angelica nodded wordlessly, her tears springing afresh. Nicki met her gaze in silent understanding. Without a word, she picked up Marguerite’s note from the dressing table and held it over the candle. As the aged paper caught the flame, Nicki dropped it into the tiny porcelain music box given to her by Marguerite on her ninth birthday. The flame caught the lining, hungrily destroying the velvet. In moments nothing remained but pale white ashes. Nicki’s heart lightened. She snapped the lid shut. She returned her attention to Angelica. “In a few hours, I must go to Blake and make amends. I… I have dealt him quite a blow. I must prove to him how much I truly love him.” Angelica nodded again. “You must first get some rest. We cannot have a bride with tear swollen eyes and dark circles.” 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— 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.  
Chapter 22
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 a 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; to 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 as an echo through the emptiness were her words. ‘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, 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—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 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…” He touched a finger to her lips. “Stop. Do you think I would take away something so dear to you? Your father and I have made our peace, my dear. 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, 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 ‘found out’ and she could not bear it, that 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 half amusement, half agony 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.” Nicki thought back over the years of punishment she had endured for Teddy’s sake. Apologizing to ladies with hangovers for sneaking vodka into their tea could not compare with all that Blake had suffered. “Making them pay—it never took away the pain, did it?” “It took you to perform that particular miracle.” She worried her lower lip, debating her next words. “Did you ever love Angelica, Blake? I will understand if you did.” As his gaze delved deep into hers, Nicki shivered at the intensity of emotion more powerful than any she had ever experienced. “I have never been in love with anyone, Nicole—until you.” Her heart soared, but the tiniest insecurity remained. “Yet I recall your saying one heart was broken when you left England.” “I meant my own.” In that moment, all his suffering and pain became hers as well. She prayed that the burden would be lighter for him now. Not only had he been exiled from England, but then war had broken out between the two countries. She imagined him alienated, living in one country, his home in another, belonging to neither— and the sorrow that overwhelmed her was almost more than she could bear. Tenderly, she reached out to push a lock of dark hair from his forehead. “Tell me how Teddy lost Rosewood. I think it is time I learned the truth, not some fabricated tale.” Blake captured her hand. He studied it as though it would reveal the secrets of the universe. But Nicki understood him well enough now to know how skillfully he could hide his hurt. “I gave him a job at one of my saloons in Boston. I went away for a week to take care of the sale of some of my horses. While I was gone, the manager promoted Teddy to dealer. If I had been in town I could have prevented what followed, but by the time I returned the damage had been done.” He leaned his head back against the chair. “Teddy held a game after hours with several wealthy customers. He allowed the wagers to go well over the house limits, and he lost. He was an employee and I had to honor his losses. All he could offer in repayment was Rosewood. I am not certain he knew he had it to give. The place was overrun with debt. It has cost me a fortune to make good on the encumbrances.” Heat rose in her cheeks, and Nicki toyed with the collar of Blake’s white shirt. “And Jonathon Langley’s daughter talked you into turning over even more of your hard earned money. That must have pleased you to no end.” “From the moment I set eyes on you that first night—wearing those trousers—I knew I had entered uncharted territory. You have a very attractive shape, my dear.” She grinned, recalling her reaction to his trousers that night. “You fill out a pair of breeches nicely yourself, my lord.” “That is a great relief to me.” His smile slipped away as he touched Nicki’s cheek with infinite tenderness. “You were silhouetted by the moonlight, and when you turned to fight with the curtains, I saw your face. An angel, I thought, too beautiful to be of this world. And then you spoke in the sweetest musical voice. You said ‘deuce take it,’ and I have been captivated since.” Nicki moved her hand down to fuss with the buttons on the front of his white shirt. “Papa said I was a hoyden and we were fortunate you were willing to marry me, despite all my shortcomings.” His hand at her neck pulled her closer to his mouth. “I find I am quite partial to this hoyden, shortcomings and all.” When their lips touched, Nicki knew she had been right to come here. Tenderly, she reached out to touch his face, surprised as his day’s growth of whiskers rasped against her fingers. The muscles of his arm tensed at her back, and his shoulder felt solid as the strongest English oak beneath her arm. Power surged and pounded through every fiber of him, yet he held her with such tenderness. Nicki clung to him as her world spun out of control. At the center of the maelstrom only she and Blake existed. If she dared let go, she would be swept away into currents of thick, liquid blacks, grays, and blues. Light surrounded Blake, emanated from him. As long as he held her in his arms, she would be safe within that glow. Groaning against her mouth, Blake drew back. “Nicole. You must go home at once. I will not be responsible…” She scrutinized every feature, followed her gaze with the touch of her fingertips. His straight aristocratic nose, so perfect. There, on his left cheekbone, a tiny scar. Dark brows slashed over silver eyes. His wide mouth with the slightly fuller lower lip, so hesitant to smile. This man had become her life. With a look deep into his eyes, she wondered how she could ever find a way to tell him how important he was to her. Without a word, she slipped from his lap. Blake moved to rise, then froze as Nicki reached up to the ties of her cloak and tugged the cords. The garment pooled at her feet in a sigh of silk and velvet to reveal the dancing gown she had worn earlier in the evening. The one that turned her into an angel. “I am home. Home is wherever you might be,” she said, her voice husky with a mixture of love and uncertainty. He leaned forward, tense. “You do not know what you are saying.” She turned her back to him and lifted her hair. “I know exactly what I am saying—and what I want. I want you, my Lord Diamond. Every part of you.” It seemed an eternity that she waited. In the dark recesses of the room beyond the firelight, the clock continued to tick away the minutes. The house creaked and groaned softly, as though disturbed by these two humans who should have long since been abed. A night bird gave a long mournful cry. Nicki shivered at the sound. Then she felt his fingers at the buttons of her gown. She trembled again, this time from relief, excitement, and a little trepidation. Blake’s lips brushed the skin just beneath her ear; his breath teased her inner ear and sent delicious tremors over her entire body. A mystical heat emanated from his hands as they ran up her spine to rest lightly on her shoulders, then gradually eased outward away from her neck. She caught her breath as the gown slipped off her shoulders to follow the path of her cloak. “Good heavens, how did you manage that?” He chuckled, a rich, wonderful sound. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over the front of the lacy chemise. Blake cupped each elbow lightly, slipping like thistledown along the skin of her forearms until he clasped her intertwined fingers. She leaned back against him, gave in to the magic that surrounded him. It encompassed her as well. She must trust him to take the lead in this timeless dance she had yet to learn. “This is madness, Nicole. Say the word and this will go no further.” Hearing the tightness in his voice, she turned within the hard circle of his arms. “I admire that honor of yours, but at this moment I believe you should ignore it and kiss me.” His gaze flickered, scorched Nicki clear to her soul. When she reached up to link her hands behind his neck, he shook his head in amazement. “You would drive a sane man to distraction, my dear. How can I withstand your charms?” Nicki pulled his head down to hers, though he gave the slightest resistance. “I fear you cannot, my lord. The battle is won. Let us celebrate our victory.”  
Chapter 23
 The last of Blake’s hesitation fled as he brought his lips down on Nicole’s with all the hunger of a man who has allowed himself no gentleness—no tenderness— for much too long. She seemed to welcome his ferocity of emotion, to exalt in the sensations luring them ever downward into a shimmering vortex where only the two of them existed. He felt her fingers in his hair, then like the lightest brush of a sparrow’s wing along his neck to the muscles of his shoulders. She pressed her body against his, as though yearning for closeness. The contact sent desire shooting white hot through him. Did she too feel as though flames engulfed her, as though no external force would ever extinguish the blaze? She was so fragile, the base of her head fit within his hand. Taking advantage, he deepened the kiss, delving his tongue into the warm inner recesses of her mouth until he knew he must explode with the force of his desire for this woman. She clutched at him, gasping, dragging him with her in to another plane of existence. And, more than willing, he followed. In her innocent passion, she arched against him. The silk of his shirt and her thin chemise did little to disguise the delectable treasures pressed against his chest. With one swift movement he slid the sleeve of the garment off her shoulder, slipping his free hand between their bodies to cover one perfect breast. “Oh, my!” Nicole gasped against his mouth. “You are more beautiful than any man deserves.” He continued his ministrations, tenderly teasing the bud to firmness until Nicole pressed against his palm. In another moment, the chemise was gone, baring her silken flesh to his touch. To his surprise, Nicole drew back. She looked at him with eyes as deep and green as stormswept tropical seas, shining with passion. She reached out to undo the fastenings of his shirt. Her fingers grazed his skin like brands as she pushed the garment away from his chest. To the accompaniment of a rending tear, he jerked the shirt off his arms, then flung it away from him. His gaze locked on Nicole’s, he reached down and pulled off his boots. With delicious slowness, she stepped out of her tiny slippers, then undid the string that held her fine lawn petticoat in place, allowing the garment to slide over her hips in a whisper that melded with his harshly indrawn breath. He could not fathom how he had come to win this exquisite creature’s love. His Nicole. She swept a lock of hair from her face, and he sensed at once her rising anxiety. Though his manhood pressed insistently against the front of his breeches, the last thing he wanted was to rush this moment. It should be special. A night they both would never forget. Gently, he grabbed her neck and pulled her against him. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Blake touched his mouth to hers, then slowly traced the seam of her lips with his tongue. Salty sweet. When he felt Nicole’s hands at his waist, fumbling with the buttons of his pants, he let out a gasp and quickly covered her fingers with his hands. “Nicole, my love, do you understand there will be no turning back? After loving you—I will not let you go.” Her eyes sparkled. “My sister once read me a poem about one soul in Heaven divided into two and each part is shot down to earth. Their lives are spent searching for the other half. They are drawn to one another across continents and oceans, and when they find the other—they know it. You are my missing half, Blake. Can you not feel it?” Moisture stung his eyes. This girl touched him as no other human could. “I feel it.” “Then I suggest you stop being coy. This is what we both want.” He quickly shed his pants and socks, then drew Nicole into his arms. Her body felt like the lightest silk against his skin—a sensation equal to none he had ever known. Never had a woman fit him as though she had been created for him alone. Two halves searching so they might become whole. But this union was not yet complete, and his body craved release. He eased Nicole down to the carpeted floor, rested his elbows on either side of her to keep from crushing her with his weight. Her pale hair was trapped beneath his arms, but she gazed up at him with infinite trust. “I… I do not wish to disappoint you,” she whispered, the slightest tremor in her voice. The firelight flickered over them, warming—creating dancing shadows. He brushed his finger along her cheek. “You could never disappoint me, my love. How could you when you are the ideal I have spent my life searching for—and never hoped to find?” The shadow of a smile hovered at the corners of her mouth. “Promise?” “On my honor.” With the softest of sighs, she drew his head down to hers. So trusting. How he hated the thought that he must cause her pain before they could fulfill the thorough promise of ecstasy. If only he could be certain he would make this night wonderful for her. Kissing her thoroughly, he sensed her start to relax. The scented curve where her neck met her shoulder beckoned him. Trailing kisses along her delicate jaw, he paused to pay homage to the sensitive skin below her ear. Then he moved on to the juncture at the base of her throat where a pulse beat wildly beneath his mouth. Nicole clutched at his shoulders, her nails pressed into his skin sharply in reaction. Blake rolled on to his side and bent to kiss one pink-tipped breast. Nicole stiffened slightly, then gave in with a soft cry. Her fingers entwined in his hair to draw him closer. “Oh, my! Blake!” He slid his palm along her flat stomach, tantalizingly close to down-soft curls, then on to her slender thighs. The fragrance of her passion mingled with roses added a sharpness to his own desire. At the top of one silky stocking he paused. He swept kisses over Nicole’s abdomen as he removed first one, then the other. Back to the translucent skin of her inner thighs. When she tensed, he claimed her mouth in a kiss once again. Nicole writhed beneath his hand, arched in a wanting he understood too well. He could not restrain himself much longer. Tasting her sweetness with his touch, she responded eagerly in turn. Her hips rose against his hand as his fingers took similar license amidst the tender femininity no man had ever before touched. He sensed her mounting desire in the way her hands ran hungrily over his chest, then to his shoulders to clutch at him in her innocent need. The feeling she evoked became the wind that sent the flames of his desire out of control. And when her cool hand closed over his manhood, Blake groaned in both agony and ecstasy. “Good God, Nicole!” She snatched her hand away. “I—oh, Blake, I am sorry!” “No, sweet—you did nothing—wrong.” He struggled to regain some control, but his desire throbbed inside him. “You are the most exciting creature I have ever known. I never know what to expect, and I adore that freshness.” With infinite care, she returned her hand to clasp him lightly. “I adore you, my Lord Diamond.” As he held her gaze, he lifted his body and poised over her. At the gentle nudging of his knees, Nicole parted her legs to allow him to brace himself between them. He leaned forward to kiss her, ravenous for her— starving for the culmination of their union. Nicole released her hold and he took over to guide himself to her moist entrance. As he rubbed against the sensitive folds, she moaned beneath his mouth, her hips arching upward. Blake grasped as he slipped inside her. She surrounded him tightly. Gently, he began the cadence of lovers. Barred by the tissue of her maidenhead and the tightness of her passage, he held back. He traced kisses along the delicate line of her cheekbone to her ear. “I am sorry, my love,” he said softly. With a cry, Nicole lifted her hips as Blake drove downward. The fragile barrier ripped, and Blake froze deep inside her, deeper than he had meant to go. This woman would never fail to amaze him. She had taken equal responsibility for this event. His precious Nicole. As he kissed her face, the salt of her tears slipped into his mouth, bittersweet. He spoke into her ear, his voice husky with emotion. “Ah, sweet, the pain is brief—now we have only the pleasure.” Inside her softness, surrounded by the velvet sheath, Blake began to move. He held back the yearning of his body that demanded he quicken the pace. His mouth returned to Nicole’s, kissing her deeply and thoroughly. The juices of her desire surrounded him as she arched to meet each careful thrust, increasing the speed of her movements as she neared her release. Attuned to the nuances of her body, Blake matched her passion. Desire like none he had ever experienced consumed him, pulled from him the very core of his being to unite it with the woman in his arms. Her slim legs tightened around his waist—allowed him deeper entrance into the warm, honeyed passage. So sweet. So perfect. Nicole clutched at his shoulders. “I love you so much,” she whispered fiercely. And with a gasp from her kiss-swollen lips, nearly imperceptible shudders convulsed along his shaft. The sensations drove him wild—sent him thundering toward the climax his body hungered for. She was a mystical creature, a wraith not of this world. And making love with her was so fresh, so pure. He felt reborn. Depleted, content, he collapsed over her. Nicole’s fingers traced invisible pictures over the skin of his back. God, he was tired—and happy. More happy than he had ever dreamed possible. He lifted himself to look down at her face. Had he disappointed her? How badly he wanted her to feel the same exaltation he did. The same innate sense of—coming home. Tenderly, Nicole touched his face. “I once believed kissing your strong suit, but you have talents beyond my imagining. I have chosen my husband well.” Blake grinned, pushing a pale strand of hair away from the corner of her mouth. “You are incorrigible, my dear.” “If I was not, we might never have come to this.” “Oh, yes, we would have. If I had to kidnap you gagged and trussed like a Christmas goose…” Her mouth trembled, and tears sprang in her eyes. “I love you so much, Blake. Do you think we made a baby?” The thought constricted Blake’s chest until he had to force the words from his throat. “Nothing would please me more than to know my child grows inside you. But I am at your service to continue the process until we are certain—even after.” “You shall be a very busy man, my Lord Diamond.” She smiled softly. Her eyes were a deep blue green and he knew he would drown forever in their depths. “I am up for the challenge.” Blake smiled and rolled to one side. He pulled Nicole with him so she nestled beneath his arm. His ring flashed in the firelight, reminding him of the revenge that had brought him to this lovely girl. That revenge had been banished from his heart to be replaced by joy and the promise of a future filled with love. Blake reached around Nicole to pry the ring from his finger. He took her hand and slipped the ring over her thumb, the only finger it would fit. “I love you, Nicole Dylan, with all that I am and all that I have.” Nicole stared at the ring, then closed her hand and pressed her fist to her heart. “And I love you—though I wish I did not have to be a countess.” Blake chuckled softly. His eyelids were heavy. “You will be the most exquisite Countess of Diamond in history.” The clock chimed. Blake closed his eyes. Smiling, he gave in to sleep.  Nicki listened to the steady beat of Blake’s heart. His soft, even breathing assured her he had fallen asleep. Slowly, she raised herself to one elbow and gazed down into his face. Her hair, freed from the ribbon at some point, slipped across her shoulder to spill over her hand resting on his chest. Certain he would awaken, Nicki waited, but he slept on. A wealth of emotion clogged her throat. He was beautiful—inside and out. She had known it, had sensed it, and tonight he had once again proven her correct. This was her knight in shining armor, her hero, and later today he would become her husband before God and their families and friends. A situation that had appeared so dire to her several weeks past had turned out to be a miracle. The love of this man had become a blessing—and she would not have to forego the warmth and security of her family. All so perfect. Nicki experienced a slight twinge of guilt that she had insisted on making love this morning. But somehow her heart had ached for a bonding of another sort. She flushed. Blake had shown her how glorious the physical union between a man and woman could be. If it were possible, she believed she must love him more than ever. She had given him something very private from within herself and he had cherished her, in the process imparting a piece of himself to her. He had called her Nicole Dylan, and she felt the same. The ceremony this evening would join them in matrimony, but in their hearts they were already husband and wife. Nicki swallowed the lump in her throat. She lifted her hand from Blake’s chest and pressed her fingers to her lips before transferring the kiss to his mouth. As she rose with aching slowness, Blake frowned slightly in his sleep. Nicki froze. His expression relaxed and she drew in a relieved breath. One stocking had become pinned beneath his leg. At Blake’s feet, she tugged gently until the thing came free. Then she searched about for the remainder of her clothes. A quick glance at Blake assured her he slept on. If he awakened he would insist on escorting her back to Langley Hall, and she wanted him to rest. When she arrived home, that was exactly what she intended to do. Nicki moved to stand behind the wing chair where she slipped her clothes on. As she struggled with the fastenings at the back of her gown, she experienced an uncomfortable jolt of amazement that Blake had been so skilled at undoing them. But she would dwell on that particular talent of his at a later date. Her gaze was drawn once again to Blake, sprawled on the soft carpet in all his naked male splendor. The fire burned brightly, yet Nicki hesitated to leave him. She glanced about and spied his evening jacket lying on the settee. Quickly, she retrieved the garment and returned to the fire where she draped it across the lower half of Blake’s body. Using the brass tongs in the stand next to the hearth, she dropped a few more pieces of coal into the fire. Satisfied, she made one last attempt to locate her hair ribbon, but it was no where to be found, and she dared not tarry any longer. She grabbed her cloak, moved to the door, and paused long enough to slip the velvet cape over her shoulders. The strings were tied at her throat before raising the voluminous hood over her head. One last look at Blake as she opened the French doors. Softly, she blew him a kiss. “Sleep well, my love. You have a busy day—and night—ahead of you.”  
Chapter 24
 Nicki closed the front door softly, but despite her efforts the lock clicked. Wincing, she glanced around. Several wall lamps burned low. Langley Hall slept. With an exhausted sigh, she pushed the hood of her cloak back and tugged wearily at the strings at her throat. A grunting snore erupted at the end of the hallway. Simms. A wave of dismay swept over Nicki. With the other exciting occurrences of the evening, the drugged butler had slipped to the back of her mind. She hurried along the carpeted hall to find Simms curled up beneath a side table near the study, his hands tucked beneath his cheek. He wore an expression of sublime peace on his blue face, seemingly none the worse for wear as a result of his mistreatment. With a smile, she pulled the cloak from her shoulders and draped it over him. Simms snuggled into the still warm fabric with a sigh of contentment. Nicki turned to leave, then paused to sniff. She wrinkled her nose. Sherry. The smell hung in the air, as noticeable as Teddy’s cologne. She glanced at the door to her father’s office where it stood slightly ajar. - Nicki stepped closer and pushed against the heavy oak. The full reek of sherry rushed to meet her. Nicki covered her nose with her hand, and took a hesitant step into the room. She looked toward the cabinet bearing Shelby’s contraption. Something was wrong. The box gaped open, wires and springs spilled from inside and jutted in every direction. Had the machine malfunctioned? If it had gone off, surely the alarm would have raised the entire household. Shadows came to life with such speed that Nicki’s fatigued mind could not form a cognizant thought. A man materialized to grab her wrist, jerk it behind her back, and join it to her other hand so he held both in one merciless grip. His other hand moved to clamp over her mouth, stifling her delayed cry with cruel disregard. He yanked her roughly against him. Nicki cried out again, but his hand muffled the sound. She squirmed in his grasp, kicked backward with her feet. Her captor eluded her efforts for the most part, but when one foot made contact, he wrenched her arms upward sharply until she stilled. Her eyes burned and teared from the close proximity to the main source of the sherry odor, though she took some minor satisfaction in the thought that he must be suffering more than she. “Oh, ain’t ye the bright one—settin’ traps like a bloody constable, m’lady. Such a smart girl, y’are. But not smart enough t’not get yerself caught. ‘ave ye more tricks fer me?” The voice hissed into her ear. Nicki tried but could not put a face to the voice. She lunged away from him and he chuckled. “I might’ve known th’ grand earl would choose a ball o’ fire like ye. Ye would’ve given him grand sons t’ carry on th’ proud Diamond name.” Nicki stiffened, then drooped wearily. ‘Would’ve.’ That turn of phrase certainly did not bode well for her future health. She strained her gaze toward the door. If only Simms would awaken. Then she saw a shadow cross the light filtering into the room. Screaming, she bit into the hand pressed so tightly against her mouth. She stomped her feet on the floor, but the delicate slippers and the carpet muffled any sound. Nicki could see Teddy pause in the doorway, so she pitched all her weight forward in an effort to escape. The man pulled her hands up harshly toward her shoulder blades and forced Nicki to her knees. He went with her, keeping his fingers tight over her lips. Head spinning from the excruciating pain in her shoulders, she sagged, but he would not allow her to fall. Instead, the man yarded her backwards until she rested against his legs. Pleading mutely, Nicki looked up at Teddy through tear filled eyes. Do something, anything, she begged silently. Teddy stepped further into the room. “What are you doing with her?” “She came nosin’ around. I couldn’t let ‘er wake th’ rest of th’ bloody coves, now could I?” Nicki shook her head in disbelief. It was a game. This was a clever ruse on Teddy’s part. Any moment he would charge the beast holding her. “It’s all over. She’ll not be marrying him now,” Teddy said, avoiding her gaze. “Oh? Jus’ look at ‘er, sir. Where d’ye think she’s been this time o’ th’ morn? She’s been in ‘is bed, I tell ye.” Teddy scrutinized her more closely, then nodded sadly. “She said she loved him. Poor sweet Nicki. So gullible where that misplaced emotion is concerned.” Meeting his sorrowful gaze, anger and loathing filled Nicki until she knew she would be physically ill. Her friend. The boy she had worshiped had become a man who was no more than a selfish, petty criminal. She had no clue to the reasons for his betrayal. They did not matter now. The only truth that existed was that he had hurt her and was allowing someone else to hurt her. Teddy was no longer her friend. He had chosen to become her enemy. “What d’ye want me t’do now?” asked Nicki’s captor in a whining tone. Teddy scanned the room. His gaze paused on a knitted throw tossed across the back of her father’s settee. Following the direction of his interest, Nicki felt the blood pounding through her head. Without sparing her a glance, Teddy crossed the room to retrieve the blanket. He shook it out, seeming to gauge its size, before he retraced his steps. A pause near her father’s desk and he bent down to pick up one of the small bronze serpents—a cobra with its head arched and neck flared. What did Teddy want with the figurine? “Well?” asked the stranger. “I suggest you stop asking questions. We will continue with the original plan. Nicki and I will be married. Dylan will be left standing at the altar before half of London. He’ll return to America with his tail between his legs, have no doubt.” Nicki could not fathom what she was hearing. Marry Teddy? Tears stung her burning eyes. Once she might have happily wed Teddy Bartholomew, but now her heart and soul belonged completely to the Earl of Diamond. She thought of all the mistrust and betrayal they had overcome, the sweetness of their lovemaking tonight. If she was not at the wedding… The man at her back tensed. “Oh, and don’t that sound jus’ like ‘im, runnin’ away like a bloody coward,” he snapped sarcastically. “I seen what ‘e’s like. ‘e’ll search every inch of th’ country to find ‘er.” Almost wistfully, Teddy examined the figurine in his hand. “I’m very good at duplicating handwriting. Nicki will leave behind a touching farewell to Dylan, and a note apologizing to her father and dear Angelica for all the trouble she’s caused by following her heart.” Waves of despair and pain crashed against her soul. Nicki closed her eyes tightly, but insistent tears trickled down her cheeks. It galled her to reveal her weakness to these hateful men. From deep inside came Blake’s voice—strong and confident. ‘I should have told you then I had fallen in love with you.’ She had worked so hard for that declaration. Teddy—this monster holding her like some minion of Satan—could never take from her the sweetness of that victory. If Teddy did succeed in marrying her, she would make certain his future life would be an eternal hell. He would never be free to trust her from his sight. And she would never cease fighting him—never give up striving for escape so she might return to Blake. Nicki opened her eyes. In morbid fascination, she stared at the statue Teddy hefted so casually. His intent crashed upon her as though the ceiling had come down about her ears. Nicki gave a desperate lurch forward. The man’s hold slipped and she cried out. The sound disappeared into the heavy fabric that dropped over her. She clawed desperately at the throw, fighting the material that threatened to suffocate her. The sudden searing pain that exploded in the back of her head was unexpected. She fell forward, stunned. Another, sharper pain and blackness washed over her.  “My lord… my lord?” The words combined with incessant knocking brought Blake out of a sound sleep. Automatically he reached out to his side, but his hand encountered only emptiness. He opened his eyes. Nicole was gone. As Blake stood, he noticed that his jacket dropped to the floor. Then he saw his trousers draped off the arm of the wing chair. Grabbing those, he slipped into them, all the while looking for his shirt. The knocking turned almost desperate and Blake abandoned the search and went to open the door. Chester dropped his hand and squared his shoulders. “I apologize for disturbing you, my lord, but you have a visitor.” Blake glanced from the butler in his robe to the mantel clock over the fireplace. Three o’clock. “A visitor? Not…” “No, sir. It is your solicitor just arrived from London. It was my thought that he would like a bed, but he insists on speaking with you immediately. Shall I bring tea?” His solicitor? Good God, what now? “No tea, Chester. A good strong pot of coffee with two cups should do.” Chester flinched slightly at the suggestion. He had been unable to accustom himself to Blake’s taste for the dark American brew. “Very good, my lord. Coffee. Shall I bring Mr. Tunstell to you here?” A quick survey of the room revealed Blake’s shirt on the floor behind the settee. His gaze flashed back to Chester, who maintained a neutral mien, but Blake could have sworn his mouth twitched. “Bring him here, Chester. I suppose he cannot expect to find a man in court dress at this time of morning.” “As you say, sir.” Chester bowed, making to leave, then stiffened. He cleared his throat, his gaze carefully directed over Blake’s shoulder. “Sir, you have a—a ribbon—dangling from your—your trousers.” Blake glanced down. Sure enough, Nicole’s rosecolored hair ribbon hung from his waistband and spiraled delicately down the inside of his leg. With a wry grin, Blake pulled the velvet free and wrapped it about his hand. “Very observant, Chester. Thank you.” “All in a day’s work, my lord. I will show Mr. Tunstell to you at once. Perhaps I should first straighten the room a bit?” “I will take care of it. See to Tunstell.” Blake tidied the room—somewhat smugly as his mind reflected on what had transpired before the fire not two hours earlier. He pulled on his shirt and fastened the pearl-topped buttons. He noticed one sleeve hung slightly longer than the other. Beneath his arm he discovered a gaping hole. With a sigh, he tucked the shirt into his breeches, and retrieved his socks and boots. With one last glance at the room, Blake took a seat behind his desk and adjusted the wick on the oil lamp to provide more light. He had just finished when Chester tapped lightly on the open door. “Mr. Tunstell, my lord.” The short, rotund man paused at the doorway, then gratefully followed the direction Chester indicated. Despite the coolness of the climate, Mr. Tunstell sweated profusely. Blake searched his mind for a name. Joseph? No, that was the eldest son who had died in the war against Napoleon. George? No, that was the father. John? Yes, this was John, the youngest son. With a gusty sigh, Mr. Tunstell dropped into one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. He placed his leather carrying case at his feet and dragged a soiled handkerchief from his jacket pocket. The threadbare beaver hat was removed before the man proceeded to mop the perspiration from his balding pate. Small dark eyes glittered behind wire-rimmed spectacles—and Blake knew instantly this man was not the fool he appeared to be. “Have I gone bankrupt, Tunstell?” Blake leaned forward, steepling his fingers. He knew from their correspondence that this man was quick of mind and possessed of sound judgment. “Of course not, my lord!” John Tunstell shook his head adamantly, jarring his glasses to the bridge of his bulbous nose. “I would never allow such a thing to occur. Your millions are quite safe and amassing nicely.” “That is of great relief to me. If I am financially stable, then what brings you here from London in such a rush? You look as if you have slept in your clothes.” Tunstell smoothed his surcoat, which might have been sadly creased if it did not fit quite so snugly. After several attempts to yard the garment over his girth, he succeeded only in unseating his hat, which thumped to the floor. “I have indeed, Your Lordship. I took the liberty of borrowing a post chaise and six from your stables in London, or I would never have made such splendid time.” “It is past three o’clock in the morning, Tunstell, and today is my wedding day. Would you please arrive at some point?” The little man reached for his case and the seams of his jacket strained in protest. Blake winced, but the thread held under the strain. As Tunstell flipped the tarnished brass clasps and opened the case, Blake made a mental note to reevaluate the man’s salary. Patiently, Blake waited as the man rustled through his bag, murmuring to himself, finally withdrawing a thick sheaf of papers tied together with a frayed red ribbon. “This is my purpose for being here.” Blake took the bundle, untied the bow, and spread the pages out on the surface of the desk. In leafing quickly through the papers, he noted most appeared to be guarantees for accounts from various establishments in London. A tailor, stable. Some were gambling markers. All the documents appeared to be dated within the past month. His confusion deepened with each page. “What have these to do with me?” “I apologize, my lord, for the delay in bringing this to your attention. It has taken some time to gather all the information. I had a Bow Street Runner assisting me or it might have taken weeks longer than it has. And with your wedding occurring so quickly…” “This is not my tailor. These are not my bills.” Tunstell attempted to pull his jacket down over the roll around his middle. “Yes, my lord. I apologize. In my weariness I am not making myself very clear. I should start from the beginning.” Blake rubbed his forehead. “Please do.” “I came personally to explain the situation when I had all the information and realized the extent of the problem. It came to light when our establishment received your letter expressing your intent to wed the eldest daughter of the Duke of Billington as well as to make good on all the duke’s bills—but of course you know all that. When my father saw the invitation he was quite disturbed.” “I apologize for any upset I might have caused him,” Blake responded dryly. Tunstell raised a placating hand. “It was not the fact that you were marrying, my lord, but the identity of your bride. You see one of my father’s clients also expressed that he would be marrying Lady Nicole Langley, daughter of the Duke of Billington. And apparently this gentleman had run up quite a list of debts using his fiancée’s inheritance as collateral.” A throbbing began in Blake’s temple. He rubbed his forehead. “And you feared I might be falling prey to a hoax of some sort?” “It had crossed my mind, my lord. The funds have already been expended on the duke’s behalf. I put a deposit on a house for the Season and opened the bank account in the duke’s name, as you instructed. The news that another man also claimed to be engaged to Lady Langley alarmed me greatly. Of course, my father did not reveal the man’s name to me. Confidentiality, you know.” Blake slid back the chair, stood, and went to the window. Another man in Nicole’s life. He stared blindly into the darkness beyond the glass. Though it had cut into several other investments, he had instructed Tunstell to take the steps necessary to set Billington up comfortably for this Season as well as the following. He had also ceased his efforts to drain the man’s finances. Damn it all, who would dare parade about London charading as Nicole’s fiancé? Then he knew. Only one man… A knock at the door interrupted Blake’s reverie. He turned toward the sound with his fists clenched at his side. “Are there no distinctions between day and night in this godforsaken neighborhood?” Tunstell’s eyes widened behind his spectacles. Blake raised his hand in what he hoped was a placating gesture, then strode to the door to fling it open. Chester stepped back from the doorway to give Jonathon Langley a wide berth. He spoke from several feet away. “My lord, the Duke of Billington.” Alarm raced through Blake, together with a feeling that he had enacted this scene before. He tightened his hold on the wood of the door. “Billington? Has something happened?” Jonathon delivered a distracted nod in Chester’s direction, then stepped into the room. “It’s Nick. She’s been stolen.” Quickly, Blake calculated the time it would have taken Nicole to reach her home from Rosewood. Though he had no clue about the exact time she left, he had been with Tunstell for more than the amount of time she would have needed. He closed the door and turned to face Jonathon. God, no, not Nicole. Not Nicole. “Are you certain, sir? You checked the stables? What about Shelby’s room?” Billington shook his head sadly in denial. He looked exhausted, his normally colorful complexion tinged with grey. “It was Shelby that told me. It seems Nicki, Mina, and Shelby rigged some sort of trap to catch the bloke who’s been pokin’ about in my study. Shelby was supposed to set up the machine in my office and go up to bed, but he decided to hide out behind the settee. He fell asleep there. Then, about an hour ago, he was awakened by a thump. He could only see the feet of two men. Nicki was on the floor on her knees being held against one of the ruffians. They threw a blanket over her head and knocked her unconscious with one of my snakes. The boy blamed himself because he was too afraid to rescue her.” Rage filled Blake. Forcing the emotion back, he called for the calm detachment he had depended upon for so long, for that was the side of him that would reclaim Nicole. “Shelby is just a boy. He could have done nothing.” “He’s beside himself just the same. After the men left with Nick, the alarm tripped on the machine. When I got to the library, I found Shelby in hysterics.” Jonathon’s blue eyes filled with angry moisture. His chin trembled. “The blackguards won’t get away with terrorizin’ my children.” Offering what comfort he could, Blake gripped Jonathon’s shoulder. “We will see to that, will we not? But I need all the information you have. Did Shelby recognize any voices?” Jonathon paled and looked away. “One was Ted. Teddy Bartholomew. He didn’t know the other. Can you believe it? I let that man into my home. Trusted him like he was family.” “Nicole will be devastated. We have to find her. Did Shelby hear anything that might tell us where they went?” Jonathon latticed his fingers, cracking his knuckles unconsciously. His gaze avoided Blake’s. “Just that Ted intends to marry her. He left notes for me and for you, most likely hopin’ we’d think they was from Nick. I burned the deuced things.” Tunstell cleared his throat, drawing the gaze of the other two men. “Shall I wait outside, Your Lordship?” Blake stared at the solicitor for a long moment. Pieces were coming together in his mind, slowly, but inexorably. “No, Tunstell. I might have further need of you.” Suddenly, the door swung inward. Jonathon sidestepped before it could slam into him. In sailed Sophia, regal as a queen despite her crumpled dressing gown and her abundant dark curls tied up in strips of cloth. “I demand to know what all this racket is about. My bedchamber is directly overhead and I have gotten absolutely no rest for several hours!” Blake watched her silver-eyed gaze take in Tunstell’s insignificant efforts to melt into his chair, then Jonathon, who had the appearance of a man who had been dragged through the rose bushes. Her attention finally paused on him. He debated how much to tell her, then sighed. “Sophia, it seems my fiancée has been kidnapped by Theodore Bartholomew and the man has every intention of marrying her. We were just about to devise a plan for her rescue. Perhaps you would care to add your expertise.” Surprisingly, Sophia’s lovely face crumpled into tearful distress. “Goodness, Blake, I had no inkling what was occurring. You must go after her at once. She must be rescued from that pompous little—man.” “I agree, Sophia, but we have yet to learn which direction they have gone.” Jonathon put his hands together and Blake feared he intended to crack his knuckles yet again. “None of my vehicles or horses are gone, Teddy’s horse is still in its stall. I have Andrew and one of his sons holding the horses around back at the stables. They’ll help us search.” “Good,” Blake said. “Our best chance of finding them lies in searching all the thoroughfares. The difficult thing is that there are so many directions they could have gone and still be able to turn off and head for Scotland. I will awaken Percy and Carlton. They may go into shock at the earliness of the hour, but they will be capable of taking a direction. Jonathon, you and I shall take another.” “You can count me in on the hunt, as well. I’ve grown a little bored with whist.” Blake stared in confusion at the man in the doorway. Standing every inch as tall as Blake, he had gold hair swept back from a striking face. Pale blue eyes sparkled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Charles?” Blake could not believe the boy he remembered could have grown so large. “In the flesh.” Blake strode forward to pull his cousin into a hug. “Good God, man, it has been too long!” They separated. “I hope we can spend more time together once I have found my fiancée.” Suddenly serious, Charles’ gaze met Blake’s in regret and the hint of shadows from the past. “I intend to help you find your Nicole. She’s a special young woman. That whole family is damned wonderful. What can I do?” “How can I turn down a request like that?” Blake turned to Sophia who wiped at the tears streaking down her cheeks. He attempted a reassuring smile. “Aunt, I wonder if you would go to Nicole’s mother. She will be beside herself with worry.” Sophia sniffed. “Of course, Blake, but what can I do to help her?” “The church will need decorating—you know more than I all the preparations necessary for a wedding. I do intend that there be a wedding today, even if it takes place at midnight. And it will be my wedding.” “Good luck, my darling.” She moved forward to envelop Blake in a teary embrace. Taking her arm, Blake led her to the door. Charles stepped aside, then sauntered further into the library. Sophia turned again, but Blake put his fingers over her lips. “When I return with Nicole, we will have time to talk more.” As Sophia moved to the stairs, he turned back to the solemn group. “Where do you suppose he has gone and how is he getting there?” Tunstell raised his hand hesitantly. At Blake’s nod he spoke. “Among the receipts was one for a coach and four. The Runner I hired said the man had also hired a footman.” “But Teddy came to the Hall on horseback,” interjected Jonathon. “Then we have our answer,” Blake said. “Somehow, Teddy must have had the coach ready for him when he needed it. Did your Runner happen to learn if Bartholomew procured a marriage license, Tunstell?” The little man shook his head. Anger seethed beneath the surface as an everpresent threat to Blake’s self-control. “If he has no license then he must be on his way to Scotland.” Charles came forward to take Blake’s arm. “If the blow to her head was bad… I just want you to be prepared for what we might find.” Blake clenched his fists at his side. “Teddy Bartholomew had best pray to God she is well. If he has harmed her in the slightest, God shall be the only one who can save him.”  “Teddy, remove this blanket at once! I cannot breathe, my head is positively splitting, and my hair shall be nothing but tangles!” From the sway and bounce of the floor beneath her, Nicki surmised that she had been tied up and tossed onto the floor of a coach. Just as she came to that conclusion, the vehicle jolted over a particularly deep rut, tossing Nicki against the base of the seat. “I hope that did not hurt you, dearest,” Teddy said in conversational tones. “Deuce take it, Teddy! I shall be covered in bruises. At least untie me and allow me to sit in the seat.” “You forget how well I know you, Nick. It wouldn’t upset you a bit to leap from a moving carriage. No, you can remain as you are until we reach our destination.” Nicki bit her lip to stifle another curse. Perhaps she was going about this the wrong way. She took as deep a breath as she was able with her face covered in the scratchy wool. The pain in her head throbbed with each beat of her heart. “I promise I will not leap from the coach, Teddy. Please, I… I cannot breathe. I fear I shall faint.” Silence met her wheedling speech. Nicki waited, hoping he was squirming in guilt. “You actually expect me to believe you could faint?” Heat suffused her cheeks, but she swallowed her anger once again. “I have not eaten since yesterday, Teddy. It must be close on to ten o’clock. You have not even given me water.” She searched her thoughts desperately for a stronger argument to sway him. “And I should be seen by a physician at once.” “Whining does not become you. It is hardly believable. I’ve seen you knocked from your horse by a low hanging branch, then get to your feet without a whimper.” “Damnation!” Fury washed over Nicki. With a terrific effort, she swung her bound feet around and kicked with every ounce of her strength. She knew she had hit soft flesh when Teddy cried out in pain. She gave a snort of satisfaction. “There is plenty more where that came from if you insist on keeping me trussed up like a prize partridge!” Moments later, Teddy grabbed her bound feet and she was tipped over onto her back, her skull slamming against the floor. Sharp pain shot through her head, and Nicki feared she might become ill. Then she realized he was loosening the ropes. She chose to maintain silence, fearing further antagonizing might cause him to change his mind about freeing her. The blanket lifted and Nicki sucked in cool, fresh air. She glanced at Teddy, who watched her with devilish mirth twinkling in his amber eyes. “You’re right, Nick. Your hair looks like a lion’s mane.” Nicki raised into a crouch, an admirable feat considering the coach traveled at immoderate speed over an extremely rough road. The wheels struck another pothole and she fell back into the seat with a bone jarring thump. “You will not be laughing when Blake overtakes us. You will regret every bruise.” “Blake won’t find us—if he decides to follow. You seem so sure he’ll want you back.” “Of course he will. We are to be married today.” Teddy retrieved the throw from the floor and tossed it at Nicki. She watched as he reached inside his jacket and removed a decorative silver flask. “How could I forget. But the marriage was all part of his grand scheme to ruin your father. He never meant to go through with it.” “How do you know that?” She wished she could have bitten back the question. “Blake told me, of course. We used to be friends, you know.” Nicki’s throat tightened painfully. To hide her dismay, she pulled the blanket up to her chin. Then she chided herself. Blake had not even told his aunt the truth behind their engagement. Teddy merely toyed with her emotions, just as he had from the moment of his return. She trusted Blake implicitly. “I do not believe you. Blake, unlike you, possesses a strong sense of honor.” “Bah! Honor.” Smoothing back a lock of his errant blond hair, Teddy turned his stare to the shades drawn over the windows, as though he could see through them to what lay outside. He took a long drink from the flask. “What is honor but a word used by those who have always gotten everything they desire?” “That is why you have none, Teddy. It is in all of us—from the highest king to the lowest beggar. But you have turned away from the honor inside you so many times, always choosing the easy way, until what little you might have possessed withered and died. To be honorable is not always easier, but when you close your eyes at night you can do so without shame.” He chuckled bitterly, his gaze burning into hers. “Was Blake’s long campaign of revenge so honorable, then? He drained your father financially. He tricked you. Was that so honorable?” Nicki shook her head. “No, it was not. But to Blake—he was fighting to regain his honor from those he believed had taken it from him. I think he realizes it is something no one can take away, because it is inside. The difference is that you never wanted honor at all. You have spent your life avoiding it—Blake has spent the last few years of his life trying to regain it.” “How noble!” Teddy curled his lip in derision. “Still, none of that matters now. You will never see Dylan again now that you are to be my wife. Be honest, Nick, haven’t you fought marriage to others all these years because you awaited my return?” The truth of that statement stabbed at her heart. She had waited for Teddy. But not this Teddy. And in maintaining her liberty, she had been free to become engaged to Blake. It had taken her no time at all to see who was the better man—but now what was she to do? She could not see through the blinds—did not know the time of day, or even their destination. Nicki fought despair. She could not give up, not until every avenue of escape had proved impossible. “I want you to take me back at once, Teddy. This is foolishness. You have no money…” “I have borrowed some money and when we are married I shall have your inheritance. We’ll live comfortably.” He replaced the cap on the flask and placed it on the seat beside him. Nicki tried to swallow, but her mouth had turned dry. “Blake will not leave England without me. He will search the ends of the earth if he must. I pity you when he finds me.” “You think you mean something to the heartless earl? You’re a fool, Nick. I always thought you were a little more practical. Besides, I believe you’re forgetting the notes you left behind.” Nicki closed her eyes, as though by doing so she could protect herself from his cruel words. She clenched her fists, then felt the Diamond signet ring press into her palm. Blake’s voice swept across her inner ear, lending her strength. ‘I love you, Nicole Dylan.’ Blake will know the note is a lie. She opened her eyes to gaze squarely at Teddy, her chin lifted. “If you force me to marry you, Teddy Bartholomew, I shall make your life hell on earth. You see, I love Blake Dylan and I will do anything to be with him. Every sip you take, you will wonder ‘did she put poison in my drink?’ When you close your eyes at night, you will think ‘did I lock away the silver?’ And when you turn your back, you will never know if when you turn around I will be gone.” Teddy stared at her as though to judge the honesty of her speech. Nicki held her breath—hopeful. He sighed. “That was quite eloquent, Nick. If we run low on funds, I can always put you on the stage. You’d be a smash.” Frustration overwhelmed her. Nicki clenched her fists and lunged across the coach at Teddy, but he caught her wrists and shoved her roughly back into her seat. He glared down into her face, holding her with cruel force. Her breath hissed from between her teeth as the pain returned full force to slice through her skull, but Nicki faced him without flinching. “Take me back! I want Blake—I do not want you! I hate you, Teddy! I shall hate you forever for this.” He released her, reached to the floor of the coach to retrieve the blanket, and tossed it at her. Without a sound, he dropped back into his own seat. Nicki covered her face and sobbed her heart into her hands, despising herself for breaking down in front of Teddy. But she could not remember a time in her life when she had been so frightened. Or so alone. 
Chapter 25
 Blake reached inside his vest pocket and removed his watch. Nine o’clock. Twenty minutes since he had last checked, but seemingly an eternity. Nicole, where are you? Worry gnawed at his insides. Was she safe? Had she regained consciousness? Would Teddy hurt her further? Would she cause some harm to come to herself by that damned recklessness of hers? Questions churned inside his mind, more frightening because he had no answers. The search had thus far proved fruitless. He and Jonathon had stopped at every inn and hostelry on the westbound road to London, but no one had seen anyone meeting Nicole’s or Teddy’s description. Sitting straighter in the saddle, he stretched his weary muscles. He looked at Jonathon riding next to him. Shoulders slumped, the man appeared in danger of slipping from his mount at any moment. They had slowed their pace to save the horses. The ride had been hard on them as well. As much as the delay chafed, these were two of Jonathon’s prize stallions, Adonis and Zeus, and the pair had already endured twice the abuse other horses could have—almost as though they sensed Nicole’s danger. Ahead, Blake caught sight of a sign rocking back and forth on weathered posts, the letters faded by time. Another inn. He pressed his boot heels into Adonis’s side to urge him on. Jonathon followed suit. Minutes later, Blake drew up on the reins and turned his horse into the courtyard. Without warning, a bright orange carriage drawn by two horses surged into the path of Blake’s horse. He pulled sharply on the reins. Adonis reared, front hooves flashing. Blake was forced to tighten the grip of his knees to keep his seat. The young dandy driving the carriage called out a harried ‘beg pardon,’ the vehicle tilted sharply, then maneuvered onto the thoroughfare. One of the ladies seated in the back of the carriage squealed. A parasol fluttered wildly. Two riders gave chase, one a gentleman, the other a lady in a red riding habit. “Cecil, slow that thing down or you’ll spill our picnic lunch!” The gentleman called out to the carriage, laughing. Then they were gone. Blake’s gaze went from the road to survey the courtyard. A mail coach stood nearby and awaited the fresh horses that were backed into the traces. A half dozen horses stood inside open stalls while two boys of about eleven or twelve worked together to brush one of the horses, arguing good-naturedly. A smithy worked his forge, then held tongs over the billowing flames. As he urged Adonis forward, Blake heard how closely Jonathon followed by the ringing of shod hooves as they crossed the uneven cobblestones. He continued to look around, but saw no coach that looked to be privately owned. None of the horses appeared to be well lathered or worn down, as they would have to be. Blake reached up with one hand to rub his eyes. It was unthinkable that Teddy could have come so far without a change of team. He and Jonathon must have taken the wrong road. The only hope left was that the other search parties would have better luck. After a dismount, Blake handed the reins over to an eager lad with bright red curls and a sprinkle of ginger freckles across a pug nose. “Take special care with this brute, he has earned his keep this day.” Reaching inside his cloak, Blake removed a coin from his jacket pocket and tossed it to the boy. “I’ll care fer ‘im good, M’lord.” Jonathon climbed down from Zeus and offered Blake a tired smile. A curious protectiveness stirred in Blake’s chest and he turned back to the boy and offered another coin. “Here’s another shilling for this beast as well. We plan to leave within the half-hour. How are you set for mounts?” “We’ve none so fine as these—but we got some that’s ‘ardy. Ye seem to be in a ‘urry.” Blake nodded. “We are indeed. Choose your finest and have them saddled and ready. See to the boarding of these two. We may be back for them this evening.” As the boy took both sets of reins Jonathon reached out to catch the young man’s sleeve. “Have you seen a coach today—the occupants would be a tall, thin man with blond hair and a pretty young lady, small, with lighter blond hair?” The boy thought for a moment. “Nay, M’lord. ‘asn’t been no one such as that ‘ere t’day.” Blake knew the extent of Jonathon’s disappointment because the emotion was something they shared—had shared with each failure to hear word of Nicole. He took the shorter man’s arm and led him across the courtyard to the arched entry leading into the inn. Blake paused just inside the door as he waited for his vision to become accustomed to the dimness. He noted the public room teemed with people, some most likely passengers from the post. That left at least a dozen others crowded into fairly tight quarters. Combined with the scent of unwashed bodies and eau d’ cologne came the unmistakable odor of boiled eggs and cabbage. Voices raised to speak over each other, shrill laughter, coughing… The place was a nightmare. Blake looked out across the heads for any opening that might mean an empty seat. An ache had started behind his eyes. A red-faced man wearing an apron over his barrellike torso dodged serving girls who bustled to and fro attending tables. Eventually, he reached Blake and Jonathon. “Welcome, Gentlemen.” The greeting concluded with a grin that revealed a good deal of missing teeth. “We should like a place to sit for a short while!” Blake shouted over the din. “Of course. I’ve a private room this way. I’m Gerard, the owner of this establishment. If you will follow me.” Blake felt very much like a child being dragged in the wake of an overbearing nanny. Jonathon trod upon his heels twice before they managed the journey to the opposite side of the common room. Gerard opened the door and ushered them into a cozy sitting room. A worn settee and several arm chairs grouped on a threadbare Persian rug, a rickety table here and there. But the room smelled clean, a fire crackled in the grate, and it was blessedly quiet. The snaggle-toothed grin erupted again on Gerard’s round face. “Some tea? Cook has just baked scones. If you’ve a heartier appetite, we’ve kidney and eggs.” As Jonathon dropped into one of the armchairs, Blake glanced at him, then back to Gerard. “We plan to continue our journey shortly. Tea and scones will be fine.” “Right away, Your Grace.” Gerard closed the door with soft click. Blake moved to the window. Rolling green meadows dotted with cows and sheep. Dark clouds roiled overhead, promising rain at the least, possibly a storm. Luck certainly was not with him today. Soon he and Jonathon would have to return to the designated meeting place. Blake said a silent prayer that Nicole would be joining that rendezvous. “It was Ted that poisoned the horses, wasn’t it? It all fits. He wanted you to look guilty.” Blake allowed his shoulders to sag. Damn, he could not recall ever feeling this exhausted. But then, he had never before experienced such dread in his soul for another human being. It surrounded him, dragged at him. Nicole. He could not lose her. “My actions fell into his hands nicely, making me look the guilty party.” He turned in time to see Jonathon lean forward and press his palms over his cheeks. With a sigh, Jonathon raised his face. His red rimmed eyes met Blake’s gaze. “I’d hoped it was—I don’t know—anyone else.” “I do not see that it matters, sir.” “But it does. It was Ted that struck her. If he killed the horses, and it looks as though he did, he may harm her further.” Blake’s insides turned glacial. That thought had not crossed his mind. Then he recalled the night the branch had collapsed, nearly killing Nicole. Teddy had made an extremely timely and opportune arrival to rescue her. Could the branch have been tampered with to eliminate Blake and had instead endangered Nicole? Carefully, he maintained his composure, struggling against a rage that would not be appeased until he had broken every piece of furniture in the room. “Teddy cares for Nicole—he always has. She will be fine.” Jonathon shook his head. “If he cared, he would have found another way to take her from the house. Instead, he struck her like some thief. My poor girl… she’s never had a hand raised to her. There were times when I could have turned her over my knee, but she would look at me so bravely with those eyes of hers…” “I know that look. A man is helpless before it.” “Then what does that make Ted? A monster? He’s known her since she was hardly more than a babe. How could he do this to her? Even you, as much as you hated and despised me, could not withstand her.” Blake pictured Nicole’s teeth worrying her lower lip, her delicate hand pushing back a strand of hair that seemed to constantly be out of place. No, he could not withstand her. But then he loved her—had loved her from the moment she let loose a string of curses in his bedchamber. Somewhere inside of Teddy there must lie a piece of that emotion. How could there not? Because Bartholomew cared only for himself. Blake strode to the armchair opposite Jonathon and collapsed into the seat. He could not speak. There were no more comforting words left in him to offer Nicole’s father. Perhaps he could even stand to hear a few himself. The door opened to Gerard bearing a large tray. With one foot, he skillfully hooked the leg of a small table that stood next to the door and dragged it to a spot near Jonathon. “Here you are, Gentlemen. If you should need anything else, pull the cord there by the door and someone’ll be here straightaway.” Blake nodded. The man disappeared through the door and closed it behind him without a sound. Jonathon sat up and reached for the teapot. He poured two cups. Blake rose to retrieve his. As he took a drink, he absently watched Jonathon split a scone and coat it with whipped butter. Steam wafted from the roll, carrying with it the aroma of fresh baked bread. Blake’s stomach rumbled in anticipation, reminding him he had not eaten since dinner last night. Jonathon handed over the buttered scone. While Blake retrieved a linen napkin and returned to his own chair, Billington prepared himself a roll. As he continued to watch Jonathon, Blake noted with surprise how easily they had slipped into a kind of comradeship. Having only known the closeness of a family during the first years of his life, Blake had vague images of how it had been. Nicole’s family—they were his ideal. Loving, protective—loyal. And this man stood at the head of that family unit, the man Blake had hated and worked so hard to destroy. Jonathon Langley. The man who now treated him like a son. “Sir, there is something I must say—to clear the record, so to speak. I am not proud of what I have done to you and your family. If I had known you… I am offering my apologies, sir.” Jonathon wiped at butter on his chin with a napkin, then smiled slightly. The warmth that entered his eyes touched Blake more deeply than the stiffest praise he had cajoled from Barrett Dylan. “I don’t relish the part I played in the whole mess and I am sorry for your pain. These past few weeks, I’ve watched you with my daughter and I’ve listened to her champion you when I still would’ve condemned you. Now, I can honestly say I welcome you into my family.” Blake cleared his throat. “And if we do not find Nicole?” “If God chooses to take her from me, he’s left you to keep her memory alive for us all.” His chin trembled. “She loves you with all her heart. That’s all I need to know.” The last vestiges of darkness fled Blake’s soul at those words. Startled, he felt moisture slip down his face. “Your daughter has returned the light to my life, sir. You have saved me just by bringing her into this world. I will be honored to be part of your family. We will find Nicole. We have to find her before that bastard does something to harm her. And when we bring her home, I only hope she can overcome what Teddy did. She worshiped him.” Jonathon sat up a little straighter and with a renewed vigor. “Oh, I think Nick saw through Ted quite some time ago. It was you that helped her to do that. She’d already fallen in love with you before he returned. Then she had someone decent to compare him to when his true colors showed through. I think I might actually feel a little sorry for the man about now. Nick can tear into someone when she has a mind to. If she misses her wedding because of Ted, you can bet he’ll feel her wrath.”  Nicki gazed out at the countryside flashing by. Teddy had opened the shades, probably believing they had come too far for Nicki to know where they were. The thought crossed her mind again that she could grab for the door handle, fling the door wide, and leap from the vehicle. An inner voice she had previously ignored warned her to think twice about such an action. She was forced to admit to herself that she most likely would be knocked unconscious or killed and that would not suit her at all. With a sigh, she drew the throw closer around her shoulders. Her cloak had been left behind at Langley Hall where she had used it to cover Simms. Dear Simms. She hoped he had not awakened with a splitting headache. Nicki would have liked to apologize. Well, she hoped he knew her feelings. Perhaps Mina would explain everything. “If you think that long face will change my mind, you’re mistaken.” She refused to look at him. “Tell me, Teddy, how should one look when their life is being destroyed by another?” He snorted derisively. “I hardly think I’m destroying your life. You always cared for me. I cannot believe your feelings could’ve changed so much.” Nicki smiled, but she felt bitterness well up behind the expression. “Then you had best change your thinking, because I have come to believe I might actually despise you. I wonder if the Teddy I cared for ever really existed, or if I just gave you all the characteristics I would one day find in the Earl of Diamond.” “Perhaps I should gag you. I’m growing extremely bored with your adoration of Dylan.” “You had best get used to it. I plan to regale you with his virtues until you concede and return me to Langley Hall.” Teddy watched her coldly for a long moment. “The only way I will return you to Langley Hall is in a casket…” The coach slowed abruptly, finally coming to a halt. Face dark, Teddy stood and reached over Nicki’s head to open a small door. “What is the meaning of this? I told you not to stop for any reason!” “’ad to, sir,” came the muffled reply. “Get moving at once!” “The lead ‘orse is limpin’ somethin’ fierce. Th’ mare, she’s startin’ t’ go lame. They can’t go no further, sir.” Nicki shook her head in disgust. She had told Teddy to stop at the hostelry they passed less than a half-hour before, but he refused. Now the poor horses were paying for his stubbornness. Folding her hands, she rested them on her twisted skirts. Beneath the fabric, she felt a hard object. Curious, she explored the shape, then remembered. The laudanum. Before Teddy noticed her actions, Nicki clasped her fingers tightly. “Come around to the door, damn it all!” Teddy slammed the cover over the opening and threw himself back into his seat. She looked at him, hoping disdain showed in her face. “You can only push horses so far, Teddy.” “One more word from you and I’ll…” The door jerked open to the coachman’s ruddy countenance. His glance touched on Nicki then flitted away. “Sir?” “How bad are they, Larson? Can we make it to the next posting house?” “Nay. Th’ lead ‘orse—he’s lookin’ about t’ go down.” Teddy gripped his knees until the knuckles of his fingers turned white. “Can we go on with two?” Larson transferred his weight from one booted foot to the other. “Nay. Coach is too heavy.” “Throw something out!” “There’s nothing t’ throw out, sir. It’s th’ weight of the coach itself. It were made t’ be drawn by at least four horses, and th’ pace we been at, we should’ve ‘ad six.” With beleaguered frustration, Teddy glanced at Nicki, then back to Larson. “The inn we passed not too long ago—can you take the horses back there and return with a fresh team?” “We shouldn’t be drivin’ ‘em even that far.” “Not drive, you dolt. Pull the coach off the road and unharness the horses. You can ride one of them and lead the others on a tether to the inn.” Larson aimed a doleful look at the sky. “There’ll be a downpour any moment, sir. It’ll be lucky if we can get th’ coach back on the road.” Teddy growled something unintelligible and lunged from his seat. Larson stepped back in alarm as Teddy leapt from the coach and slammed the door shut. Pressing her face to the dirty glass Nicki watched as the two men moved several feet from the carriage. No matter how she strained to hear, she could only make out a word here and there. Certain Teddy would be occupied for a few moments, Nicki pulled the laudanum from her pocket and reached for Teddy’s flask. Hands trembling, she removed the cap of the flagon, then unscrewed the top of the laudanum bottle. She held her breath to steady her hands and poured the remaining contents of the bottle into the container. Her heart pounded as she replaced the caps on both, so certain was she that Teddy would fling the door open and discover her. The flagon she returned to the seat. The empty laudanum bottle was stuffed back into the pocket of her gown. With a sigh of relief, Nicki returned her vigil at the window. Teddy impatiently gestured further down the road. Lifting her skirts, she moved to the opposite seat to see what he pointed at. It was a patch of forest the thoroughfare traveled through. She looked back at the men and saw Larson nod. Teddy headed back toward the coach. When he saw Nicki’s face in the window, he glowered. She threw herself at the other seat as he nearly tore the door off the hinges. “Sit there and keep quiet!” She shrugged, feigning innocence. “Can we ride back to the inn with Larson? I am very hungry, Teddy.” “You think I would let you on a horse? I told Larson to bring something when he returns.” Nicki frowned. “But that may be an hour or more. We have not had water or food. This is absurd, Teddy. How could you be so unprepared?” “It was you who upset my plans and sent us off on a mad dash. You never used to complain so on our adventures.” She glanced outside as the coach jerked into motion. “That was a good idea to hide the coach in the woods. The rain will not get through the trees so quickly and mire us down in mud. But what about highwaymen? Do they not lurk in the forests?” Teddy rubbed his temples. “We have nothing to steal.” “Of course. I forgot you have no money. We shall simply be a coach stranded with no horses, no luggage, no food, and no water. You are right. They will most likely shoot us for wasting their time and be on their way.” “Be—quiet—Nicki!” Reaching for the abandoned throw, Nicki snuggled down into the scratchy warmth to wait. 
Chapter 26
 Blake held the reins of the mounts, waiting while Jonathon gave Gerard descriptions of Nicole and Teddy for at least the third time. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders in an effort to relieve some of the tension. Together, he and Nicole’s father had come to the decision to go on for another hour and then turn back. It seemed a fruitless mission, but both agreed they were not ready to give up quite yet. Finally satisfied that the innkeeper had absorbed the information, Jonathon waved to Gerard and strode to where Blake waited. Their gazes met, and Jonathon’s cheeks darkened. “I’m a foolish old man.” Holding his gaze, Blake handed him one set of reins. “Fools are those who walk away from all they hold dear without fighting to keep it at any cost. You, sir, do not fall into that category. I, on the other hand, have been a fool. But I do not intend to be one any longer.” “I don’t believe you ever were.” Blake looped the reins over the bay’s neck, then placed his foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle. “I had the strongest feeling they came this direction.” “As did I, but we should’ve heard something by now. Ted wouldn’t be fool enough to run horses like that.” Blake waited for Jonathon to mount before turning his horse toward the road. “I think we have surmised that none of us truly knows what Bartholomew is capable of.” A lone rider leading three horses turned into the courtyard. Immediately Blake tensed. All four horses had white lather smeared across their damp coats. One stumbled, then recovered. The rider drew up. Blake met his gaze. Recognition dawned in the arrival’s eyes and Blake knew luck had found him at last. It was Teddy’s hired man. He pressed his heels against the side of his mount and sent the beast surging toward the groom. The man tugged on the makeshift reins. His panic confused the horse and caused it to turn into one of the other coach horses. The weary horse stopped as though he had met a wall. The groom kicked his feet violently. The horse that blocked the path danced away nervously as the man’s mount skittered sideways, then bolted. “Damn!” Blake maneuvered his own mount around the remaining coach horses. Hooves clattered across the cobblestones and onto the dirt road. The groom took the opposite direction from his original destination. Blake followed. His fresh mount easily overtook the weary animal. Panic darkened the man’s eyes as he glanced over at Blake, but still he made no move to slow his desperate dash. “Pull up, damn you!” Blake shouted. The man turned his alarmed gaze back to the road, obviously determined to continue the mad race. Reaching across the distance between them, Blake grabbed the back of his jacket. The groom struggled to hold on to the horse and grabbed for the mane. But his grip slipped and he fell backward to sprawl awkwardly over the horse’s rump. Blake turned his horse closer, at the same time attempting to pull the groom toward him. The man flailed wildly, lost what meager balance he had and finally slid off the side of his horse nearest Blake. Still grasping the man’s yellow jacket, Blake dragged him against his leg. The muscles of his shoulder burned with the strain of so much weight. When the man reached up and grasped his forearm, Blake thought the man would pull himself up. Instead the imbecile jerked downward. Desperately, Blake clutched at the saddle with his free hand, but with the groom clinging to the other it was no use. He continued to slip. The groom’s feet bounced along the ground, yet still he refused to let go. Blake’s shoulder throbbed and burned as it if were being torn from the socket. The pounding of the horse’s hooves against the dirt kept time with his hammering pulse. His hand slipped along the leather, further with each jolt the groom’s body took. In a blur of movement, he saw flashing hooves—then he lost his grip completely. Blake hit the ground first on his injured shoulder. He rolled over several times before he finally stopped on his side. Red smeared across his vision. He was blinded. Clutching his arm, he sat up. Pain—pounding, ripping pain. He struggled to his feet, trying to see his surroundings. Nothingness. Dizziness engulfed him, stripped him of his bearings. The earth vibrated beneath pummeling hooves, or was it the blood surging through his veins? Blake closed his eyes against the sharp edge of suffering. Miraculously, the lightheadedness dissipated. “Good God, son, are you damaged?” Billington. Blake heard the sound of a horse sliding to a halt. Jonathon’s footsteps drew closer. He turned toward the sound, felt a soft cloth pressed against his eyelids, then taken away. Blake opened his eyes, relieved at least that his vision was restored. “The groom?” Jonathon continued to wipe at Blake’s forehead until the white linen came away with little blood. “Broke his neck when he fell.” No. Damn it, no. Blake pushed Jonathon’s hand away, and scanned the road. There—a splash of yellow. The man’s jacket, which must have been torn off. Several yards away, the groom lay with his arm twisted up behind his back at an awkward angle, his eyes stared, unseeing. “What have I done?” “The man ran.” Jonathon took Blake’s good arm in a firm grip. “Listen to me, son. I saw him drag you from the horse—it was nothing you did.” Despair washed over Blake and he stumbled—fell to his knees to stare at the hard packed earth of the road. “He could have told us where she is.” “He did, son. He told us we’re on the right road.” Blake looked up to meet Jonathon’s gaze, where he saw hope and renewed energy. They would find Teddy on the road ahead, without horses, awaiting his groom’s return. Nicole would be with him. Blake stood. His shoulder ached like hell, but his heart lifted.  They were close. His rented mount trotted toward them, most likely headed back to his nice warm stall. The coach horse followed. Blake captured the reins as the first animal attempted to dart past. Jonathon caught the other. After first wrapping the reins about his wrist, Blake went to the groom. With Jonathon’s help, they managed to drape the body over the bare back of the coach horse. The man’s death galled him. Senseless. And all in the name of greed. Jonathon watched him silently, somberly. “Well?” “We shall have to take him to the inn.” With a sigh, Jonathon picked up the long strips of leather the groom had used for reins and mounted his own horse. Blake gritted his teeth and got on his mount. Jonathon met his gaze, concern etched in his features. Blake smiled through the fog of pain. “Let’s ride.”  The coach stood just off the road in a small wood. Blake motioned to Jonathon and they pulled up several yards away. Here beneath the protection of the trees, rain filtered through the leaves, scarcely misting them. Silence reached out to him, gripping his chest in a crushing hold. He looked to Jonathon at his side. “Maybe they went for a walk,” Jonathon offered half-heartedly. Blake clenched his teeth together until the familiar muscle spasmed in his jaw. He should go to the coach, but insidious fingers of fear clamped around his strength of will—paralyzing him. After coming so far,  his search had ended in success, so why could he not move forward? The silence. Whispers filled his mind, echoing louder with each beat of his heart. If Nicole were in that coach, it would be on fire, or tipped on its side— something. Certainly not this damned silence. He reached up to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Move. But he could not. The thought flitted across his mind, skittered away, then returned to haunt him. Nicole’s lovely blue green eyes wide and staring, her essence forever lost to him in this lifetime. Blake dropped his hand to grip the reins. Jonathon kicked his horse gently. “Come along, son.” The smell of damp earth rose beneath the hooves of their mounts. Blake glanced to his right. Dark, unwelcoming contours of trees seemed to fuse together, inhibiting the passage of light. Jonathon pulled up next to the coach and climbed down from his horse. He looked up at Blake expectantly. With a sigh, Blake prodded his mount forward, stopped, and dismounted. If she had left him, he had best know now. He strode to the coach and grasped the handle. With his breath caught in his chest, he jerked the door open. No! Blake staggered, clutching at the handle to keep from falling. Jonathon pushed passed him. Releasing the breath in his lungs, Blake concentrated on sucking more air in. He closed his eyes tightly, but the vision remained. A body on the floor of the coach partially covered by a knitted blanket. Otherwise the vehicle was empty. Opening his eyes, he saw Jonathon grip the opening of the door until his knuckles whitened. The older man  shifted his gaze to Blake. Disbelief. Horror. Blake knew his own eyes must mirror those emotions.  Teddy took another long drink from the flask, then offered it to Nicki. She shook her head. “No? You might feel a little better about your situation after a few sips.” Heat rose in her cheeks. “Perhaps I would—so I must decline. In fact, I believe I would rather drink poison.” Nicki’s heart slammed at her poor choice of words. “You’ve a fascination with that thought. I sh—see I shall have to watch you closely.” She fussed with the blanket to avoid looking at Teddy. His speech seemed to be slowing, becoming more deliberate, but she could not be sure how long it would take the drug to work. After all, she had been unable to judge the amount she added to the flask. Teddy looked out the window. He grinned and pointed his index finger at something outside. He misjudged the distance between his hand and the window and smacked his finger into the glass. Perhaps she had been too generous with the drug. “Look at the pretty bird. I’ve never seen one with such beautiful colors. Just like a rainbow.” Nicki strained to see this curiosity, but saw only dense green foliage and the trunks of trees. She glanced at Teddy’s finger and attempted to follow the direction he pointed, certain she must have looked in the wrong place. No. Nothing but an odd shaped branch dangling from one of the trees. “Don’t you see it, Nick? Look at those feathers. I could make you a fine hat with those feathers. I must have a gun here somewhere.” Teddy leaned forward slowly, the silver flask dropping from his hand to hit the floor with a thunk. “Oops. No worry. See? It’s empty?” Teddy proved he had already drained the last drop from the flagon by turning it upside down. Nicki nodded mutely. He dropped it again. His legs spread further apart as he bent over until his upper body had passed his knees. She could only watch in stunned amazement. “Now—what was I doing down here?” The last thing Nicki planned to do was remind him he meant to look for a gun to shoot a dead branch and make her a hat. She certainly hoped Simms had not suffered similar delusions when she had drugged him. Teddy pressed his hands against the floor of the coach and moaned softly. “Oh—I don’t feel so good, Nick. Help me up, pleasss…” She did not budge. This is for the nasty lump on the head you gave me, you turnip. Teddy struggled to push himself upward, but his body drooped lower with each attempt. With a final groan he tipped sideways. Nicki lifted her feet and he toppled over with a clumsy twisting motion to land on his side on the floorboard. He closed his eyes, brought up his legs, and curled his hands beneath his chin. Tentatively, Nicki placed one foot on his hip and shoved. Teddy moaned, but his eyes remained closed. She lifted her foot and brought it down harder, this time on his ribs. The blow elicited only a groan before he curled into a tighter ball. Filled with elation, Nicki stood, dropped the blanket across Teddy, and reached across to retrieve his greatcoat from the opposite seat. She draped it across her arm and stepped over Teddy’s body to the door. The decorative brass handle felt cold against her palm as Nicki pushed down. The door swung outward. Somehow, she had almost expected it to be locked. She lifted her skirts and jumped from the coach, then turned around and grasped the door to slam it shut. Her gaze paused on Teddy’s prone figure. A sadness crept upon her, taking her by surprise. Not so long ago she had worshiped this person—had trusted that he would rescue her from a situation she thought would ruin her life. It turned out her savior was the very person she had wanted to run from. Nicki pushed the door. It shut with a resounding bang. Blake. I am coming, Blake. Shaking out the folds of the fashionable greatcoat, Nicki swung it over her shoulders. It hung to her ankles. She clutched the garment against her and bolted into the woods, determined to put a good deal of distance between her and Teddy. Soon Larson would return with the horses. She intended to be well out of their reach by that time. Nicki’s delicate slippers, meant for dancing on dry ballroom floors, were torn to shreds by stones and fallen twigs before she managed to find the edge of the woods. She paused beside a tree to lift her foot and examine the damage. The sole of the slipper dropped to the ground. “Bloody hell!” How could she make it to the inn with no shoes? A sound drifted to her ears on the brisk breeze that lifted her spirits and caused her eyes to tear. Laughter. Masculine and feminine. Nicki put her bare foot down tentatively, shivering as the damp, cold leaves pressed between her toes. She crept to the edge of the clearing and peeked out from behind the cover a tree. A meadow with early spring wildflowers splashed across its tender green grass sloped gracefully down to a clear stream. The fragrance reminded Nicki of childhood summers spent chasing Teddy through sun warmed fields. Swiftly, she set that thought aside. That had been the past, an illusion. Best forgotten now. Next to the stream, a group of young people sat upon a bright blanket. A picnic. Her stomach gave a rumble of protest as one lady nibbled on a wafer thin delicacy. She could almost taste the sweetness of the icing and the texture of the cake melting in the fortunate lady’s mouth. Nicki swallowed. She glanced away. There, just on the other side of that hill, she thought she could see the back of a carriage. Nibbling at her lower lip, she looked from the picnic party to the carriage. The antics of her stomach urged her toward the stream. But she had no time to stand about offering explanations to people who would most likely be shocked senseless, and therefore rendered helpless. Better to go on to the inn. Food and drink awaited her there. Nicki tiptoed along the forest edge until she stood directly in line with the carriage. Then she rushed to the back of the vehicle. From that vantage point she could see two horses just over the knoll, their heads down as they grazed on the new grass. Pressing her hands together, she maintained a firm hold on her excitement. Thank you, Lord. She could make much better time on a horse. Besides, she had never driven a carriage. As Nicki advanced toward the pair of horses, she continued to glance in the direction of the picnickers, finally reassured that the grassy hill rose enough that she would not be visible. When she came to the horses, she paused. One horse had been equipped with a side saddle, the other a standard. Her rebellious side shied from the appropriate choice but then she thought of the length of the journey ahead. She had been raised on a side saddle, and she did have on a dress. She made her choice. The woman who rode this horse must be a skilled rider as the horse stood at least as sixteen hands tall with long, powerful legs. Nicki limped over to untie the reins from the branch of a fallen log, then urged the horse closer to the makeshift stool. When she lifted her foot to step onto the log, the last shreds of her slipper dropped with a soggy thump. The other slipper followed the first as she used the back of the horse to steady her stance on the fallen tree. The bark bit into the tender skin of her feet, but they were so cold she felt little discomfort. She placed one foot in the stirrup and climbed onto the horse. Nicki thought the least she should do was leave a note, but where would she find paper and pen here? She searched half-heartedly through the pockets of Teddy’s greatcoat, and came across a slip of paper in one of the inner compartments. She scanned the writing on the small rectangle of paper and smiled. Teddy’s calling card. How appropriate. She urged the horse next to the other and tucked the card into one of the pieces of leather decorating the saddle. Satisfied, she adjusted her skirts to cover as much as possible, then covered up with the long greatcoat. Feeling quite pleased with herself, she pressed her heels to the horse’s side and they sped down the route she thought must lead to the main road. Angelica would be so proud of her ladylike behavior. A smile broke free. She could not wait to see those she loved. And she would be home in time for her wedding—to Blake.
Chapter 27
 His hand trembling, Blake reached around Jonathon and dragged the blanket aside. He tensed. Teddy? Where the hell was Nicole? Jonathon climbed inside to touch his fingers to Teddy’s neck. He sat down swiftly, as if his legs would no longer hold him. “Alive?” Blake’s question rasped through the silence. Jonathon nodded. He rubbed his face with his hands. “What could have happened to her?” Anger flashed through him, white hot and deadly. Blake reached inside the coach and grasped Teddy’s collar, dragging his limp body outside. Jonathon followed hurriedly. “Bartholomew, where is Nicole? What did you do with her?” Teddy hung like a rag doll in Blake’s hands, his head lolling to one side. His eyes slitted open. “Wh-where’s my gun?” Furious, Blake shook him roughly, then slammed him back against the side of the coach. “What do you mean, your gun? What were you doing with a gun?” “Nick–” Teddy’s head dropped back. In the same movement, his mouth gaped open. He stared into the sky for a moment, then his eyelids drifted shut. Blake shook him again. “For Nick—got to get…” “Stop, son.” Jonathon grabbed Blake’s arm. “He looks like Simms did this morning. I think he’s been drugged.” Blake stared into Teddy’s face, noting the flush in his cheeks—his eyes glazed and unseeing. “Bartholomew, listen to me. Nicole is gone. Where is she?” “A pretty b—bird. For a h—hat. I went for—m— m’gun.” “I do not give a bloody damn about a bird. What happened to Nicole?” Bartholomew glanced toward the woods. His chin dropped to his chest. “I don’t feel so—good.” “Blake, if Nick had some of the drug left over, she might’ve found a way to slip some to Ted.” The sound of approaching horses drew Blake’s attention. He glanced impatiently at the road to his left. An orange carriage with black spoked wheels drawn by two horses approached. It slowed as it drew near, and Blake recognized the dandy from the inn earlier that day. His gaze traveled to the horse that followed and he was surprised to see the lady in the red riding habit seated on the horse behind the gentleman. “I say, are you having some trouble here?” asked the driver. After dragging Teddy’s inert body to the coach, Blake dropped him inside, then strode toward the orange carriage. “Good day to you. It seems the weather played havoc with your picnic.”  The driver glanced at Jonathon nervously. “What is happening here?” Jonathon moved to stand next to Blake. “My daughter was kidnapped by this man, but she might’ve escaped. Have you seen her by chance?” “We were picnicking on the other side of this wood and Honoria’s horse was stolen. The thief left this.” The driver held out a slip of paper. Stepping closer to the carriage, Blake took the card. Theodore Bartholomew, Esq., Shropshire. Teddy’s calling card. Bravo, my dear. “This card belongs to the man unconscious in the coach. My fiancée must have left this for you to find.” The last vestiges of suspicion left the driver’s face. He grinned. “Your intended? No wonder you were roughing the fellow up. Surprised you didn’t land him a facer.” Blake’s hand tightened on the card until he had crumpled it completely. “The lady and I were to be married today…” “She certainly has an eye for horseflesh.” The girl in the red habit urged her companion to draw their mount up beside the carriage containing their friends. “My Lancelot is the fastest in the county. I would say she does not wish to miss her wedding.” “No more than I,” Blake said softly. Honoria glanced at the occupants of the brightly painted carriage, her face glowing with suppressed excitement. “This is just like a novel.” Her look paused on Jonathon. “You are her father?” Jonathon nodded. “Only better!” She clasped her hands, obviously thrilled. “Then the two of you must be off at once. We  will see to matters here.” Blake looked at Jonathon, then back to Honoria. “Your offer is extremely generous, but too much of an imposition.” The girl laughed, her dark eyes sparkled. “This is the most excitement we’ve seen this year. Surely you will not deny us?” The carriage driver piped in. “Tell us what to do, sir.” Their offer was too tempting to resist. If he and Jonathon left right away, they might still make it back home before the wedding. They might even come across Nicole on the road. “The coach horses are at the inn back down the road. Gerard, the innkeeper, knows something of what has happened. If you could get the coach back there and instruct Gerard to keep Bartholomew locked up, we will send word what we wish done with him. Your Lancelot will be returned to you safe and sound, miss.” Honoria reached inside a small bag tied to her wrist and removed a card. “So you know who I am and where to return my horse.” Blake took the card and tucked it inside his glove. “I have no card, but I am Blake Dylan, the Earl of Diamond. This gentleman is the Duke of Billington. We return to Langley Hall in Shropshire.” Honoria’s eyes widened slightly. “As I said, just like a novel.” “Your assistance is greatly appreciated.” He turned to Jonathon, who had returned to the coach to look in on Teddy. “We had best be off.” Stepping away, Jonathon turned to take the reins of his mount. “He’ll sleep for a good long while. When my daughter drugs a person, she don’t do it by halves.” “Nicole does nothing by halves. I wonder how she has managed to survive thus far.” Blake mounted his horse, wincing at the sharp pain in his shoulder. He suspected he had dislocated it when he grabbed the coachman earlier. Pushing the discomfort to the back of his mind, he turned the horse toward the road. “Please let us know how all this turns out,” Honoria said. Blake nodded. “Since you are playing a major role in getting me married, I will do just that.” Glancing at the girl seated in the fashionable carriage, Honoria thought for an instant, then said. “All you need do is…” The other girl sat forward. “In your note, a complete heart shall mean the wedding took place, only half a heart shall mean it did not.” “Splendid, Cleo. Is that agreeable with you, my lord?” Blake pressed his heels into the horse’s side. “Easy enough. Good day to you all.” The horse surged forward, gaining speed as they left the cover of the trees. Exhilaration filled Blake. He could hear the thud of hooves behind him, then Jonathon brought his mount abreast of him. They looked at each other for a brief moment. A message passed between them, silent and tenuous, but the lingering emotions were solid as stone. Blake almost felt as though he had a father at his side. The feeling was a good one.  Her wedding dress. Staring at her reflection in awe, Nicki traced the square neckline of fragile lace, the  bodice sewn with delicate seed pearls. Angelica worked at the back of the gown to fasten the band that separated the bodice from the long straight skirt of white tulle with a satin underskirt. Fringe of strung seed pearls and braided strands of silk string hung from the band just beneath her breasts. The sleeves puffed at the shoulder, then cut in sharply several inches above the elbow to fit snugly and end in a vee over her hand. Lucy had pulled her hair into a single braid interlaced with pearls. She wore a tiara of silk flowers. The heavy braid skillfully hid the bump at the base of her skull and added a medieval charm to her appearance. Her gaze rose to meet Angelica’s in the mirror. “I feel like I have entered a dream.” Angelica smiled, her emerald eyes bright with unshed tears. “A wonderful dream, because you are home safe and sound.” Nicki turned to face—her mother. She must get used to thinking of her in the proper manner. “But Papa and Blake have not returned. What if something happened to them?” “The other search parties have returned. Blake and Papa should be arriving at any moment.” A pain squeezed Nicki’s heart. She reached around to gather the long train of the gown and loop it over her wrist. “What if he decides I am too much trouble? He might keep riding.” Angelica fussed with a loose tendril of Nicki’s hair, attempting to intertwine it in the braid. With a sigh, she dropped the curl and pulled a matching strand from the opposite side. “If he were frightened off so easily, he would have left the morning after you climbed in his bedchamber window. I believe he  means to have you, Nicole, every troublesome inch of you.” The rattle of the doorknob startled Nicki. Mina’s face peeked around the white door and brought a quick smile. “Excuse me, I was looking for my sister, Nicki. Someone said she was here.” “Come in, Mina. Is Cecilia with you?” Angelica’s voice held the familiar calm that Nicki now found comforting, as though the world would be right as long as that control remained in place. Mina advanced into the room resplendent in a gown similar to Nicki’s in buttercup yellow. Behind her came a more confident Cecilia in forest green. The seamstress had added ribbon to the gown to match Mina’s. Emotion tightened Nicki’s throat. She rushed forward into her sister’s arms. “You were right about Teddy,” she whispered hoarsely against Mina’s upswept curls. Firmly, Mina grabbed Nicki’s upper arms and held her away. “Not even I would have thought him capable of such barbarity. And I am not so skilled a judge of character myself. Charles leaves for London and then Paris immediately after your wedding today.” Nicki gasped in dismay. “No, Mina! I am so sorry!” With a quick toss of her head, Mina seemed to banish the subject. “No matter. It isn’t as if we were in love. And you’re here with us now, safe. The hardest part is behind us. I only hope you used something obnoxiously heavy to knock him unconscious.” Nicki laughed through her tears. “I had nothing to hit him with, but I did kick him once. It was the laudanum I slipped in his snifter that laid him low.”  “You’re so brave! I think I should have fainted dead away!” Cecilia’s eyes widened dramatically. “Not brave at all—merely determined,” Nicki said, feeling a chill wash over her skin as she recalled the fear she had experienced while in the coach with Teddy. Angelica moved to Nicki’s side with a whisper of gold taffeta. “Look at my girls. So lovely. Mina and Cecilia should harvest at least two dozen marriage proposals each.” She reached out with a lace handkerchief and carefully wiped away Nicki’s tears. “And there shall be hearts breaking all over the church when you walk down the aisle.” Nicki met Angelica’s tear-filled green eyes. Green like her own at times. “Thank you… Mother.” A soft gasp passed Angelica’s lips before she bit it back. She carefully tucked the handkerchief in her sleeve. “I love you, Nicole—I always have.” “I know. I am so very lucky.” “Excuse me, your grace?” Angelica turned to the door, where Nicki saw Lucy. The maid beamed. Nicki was certain she had never seen Lucy’s face lit up so. “What is it, dear?” The control had returned to Angelica’s voice. “I’ve a message from Simms. His Lordship, the Earl of Diamond is below stairs.” Lucy paused dramatically. “He’s asking as to Lady Nicole—Nicki’s—welfare.” He had come. Nicki cut off a squeal of joy. “Blake is here? And Papa?” Lucy nodded. Her chestnut curls bobbed wildly. Securing the train of her gown over her arm, Nicki headed for the door. Angelica’s voice brought her up short. “Lucy, inform the earl that Lady Nicole is quite recovered from her ordeal and will look forward to seeing him at the wedding ceremony—within the hour.” As the maid dashed off to deliver the message, Nicki stared at Angelica, aghast. “I must see him!” “And you will—at the church like a proper bride.” Angelica came forward to take Nicki’s hand. “Think, dear. He has spent a good part of the day chasing you across the countryside—only to have you rescue yourself. He needs time to bathe and dress for the wedding.” “Besides,” Mina interjected, “It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding gown before the ceremony takes place.” Nicki fought the disappointment. To have him so near and then send him away seemed such a waste. But she knew that within the hour she would be standing next to Blake before the minister exchanging vows. Within the hour.  Blake rested one hip against the edge of the parish minister’s immaculate desk. He looked from Charles, leaning a broad shoulder casually against the window frame, to Carlton and Percy seated before him. All were dressed in suits of somber browns and blacks with starched white cravats. They had abandoned their fashionable brilliant hues. For him. His friends. They had traversed with him through the hardest times in his life. It was only fitting that they stand at his side at the happiest time. His groomsmen. His wedding. Incredible. Charles pushed himself away from the casement and came to sit on the corner of the desk opposite Blake. A white toothed grin spread across his tanned face. “That sling is quite dashing, Blake. What d’you think Carl—Perc? Will it be all the rage for wedding attire this Season?” With delicately exaggerated movements, Percy took a pinch of snuff before lifting his monocle from the chain at his neck to survey Blake’s appearance. “Most certainly. Elegance, with a hint of danger. The ladies will swoon with rapture.” “I wish only to impress one lady,” Blake returned, glancing at the makeshift cloth of black satin wrapped around his forearm. He reached up to his neck and adjusted the knotted ends. Damned uncomfortable contraption. His shoulder scarcely hurt any longer, and the sling was there only as a concession to Aunt Sophia. Tonight, when he made love to his new wife, he would do so with no restrictions—no inhibitions. Carlton got to his feet with fluid grace. He stepped up next to Blake and carefully straightened the knot of the fabric so that the ends did not chafe the back of his neck. His dark eyes met Blake’s gaze. “I hate to bring up a dismal subject on such a joyous occasion—but what do you plan to do with Ted?” “He is locked in the storage room at the inn, guarded by some new friends I came across today. By now, they should have received a cryptic note containing a penciled heart, delivered with a handsome stallion the future Countess of Diamond stole from them.” “Odd goings on.” Charles met Blake’s gaze with a wry quirk of his lips. "My first inclination is to let the bastard rot,” Blake replied without the slightest remorse. “I’ve done a little brainstorming with your Aunt Sophia,” Charles offered as his blue eyes sparkled with mirth. “She knows of a particularly interesting debutante with a sizeable dowry who would jump at the chance of having a husband like Bartholomew. It is an offer Teddy will not refuse. I guarantee it.” Blake experienced a quick shiver of uneasiness. “It’s a great deal to ask, Charles. Maybe he should belong to the authorities? He’s a problem gambler. And I cannot believe Aunt Sophia would agree to recommend him to one of her friends as husband material.” Charles shrugged, putting on an innocent mien. “Who said anything about a friend? This debutante is almost six feet tall and must weigh at the least twelve stone.” The fact that Sophia and Charles had undertaken the task of ridding Blake of Teddy startled Blake—and pleased him. Family took care of family, through good and bad. “And do you plan to stand guard?” “No. She’ll keep the dandy in line, have no worry. I plan on continuing my adventures in the sea of the remaining debutantes. In Paris, that is.” Carlton chuckled. “The same old Charles. No ring will ever land on that finger.” A timid knock on the door drew Blake’s attention. The door opened and the minister’s wife peeked around the heavy wood. A multitude of iron grey sausage curls covered her tiny head, and bright blue eyes shone from behind wire-rimmed spectacles. “Your bride is about to enter, my lord. Please follow me.” Blake felt the muscles of his face begin to slip into the familiar emotionless mask. He smiled instead. “Thank you, Mrs. Peabody. Lead the way.”  Nicki’s father stood against the wall, stiff and uncomfortable in his new ebony jacket. He looked as though he was about to be shot by executioners. With a catch in her throat, Nicki hurried forward into his arms. Held tightly within those familiar arms, she felt like the little girl he had picked up from a fall and dusted off. She stepped back and met his gaze. His blue eyes sparkled with moisture. With a sniff, Nicki swallowed her tears. “Your cravat is drifting again, Papa. Here, let me fix it.” She carefully adjusted the snowy white folds. When she paused to review her handiwork, the stubborn thing returned to its original position threatening the yellow rose pinned to his lapel. She smiled. “There… perfect.” The music became louder, more dramatic in tone. It was time. She met her father’s gaze once again. This time her smile trembled. “He is truly wonderful, is he not?” Her father ’s chest swelled with emotion. “A damned fine man, girl. I’m proud to welcome him into the family.” Nicki nodded resolutely and turned toward the entry to the congregation hall. Two footmen, each positioned before one of the double doors, swung them wide with a flourish. The breath caught in her chest at the sight of the church filled to bursting with people. She had come to this church for most of her life, thinking it a grand old place for such a small shire. But today it must be as beautiful as Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. A hush fell over the crowd. As Nicki tucked her hand inside the crook of her father’s arm, her gaze moved along the edges of the flower bedecked pews to the altar. There stood Pastor Peabody, and next to him— dwarfing him—stood the Earl of Diamond. He looked so handsome and dignified. How had he ever come to love a troublesome scapegrace like her? She tightened her hold on her father’s arm. He covered her fingers with his own. A runner of burgundy velvet spread before her. Nicki took the first step. She looked out over the sea of smiling faces, but they all blurred. Another step. Intermingled scents of hot house flowers, perfumes, and colognes blended and transported her back in time to the gardens of Rosewood. Enchantment. And Blake’s eyes held the promise of a lifetime of such magic. The music softened as she reached the first pew. Her father kissed her cheek and placed her hand in Blake’s. She felt a jolt of alarm as she noted the sling he wore, then Nicki met the strong silver gaze and stepped away from her father to stand at the side of her husband to be. Joy, anticipation, trepidation—but above all an overwhelming sense of rightness swelled inside her. Blake slanted her a crooked grin. “Good of you to make it, my dear.” She maintained the dignity called for in such a situation and faced Pastor Peabody. “I warned you once of my resourcefulness.”  “So you did.” His deep voice vibrated with laughter. Now, as she looked at him, the depth of her emotions filled her voice with tears. “I never settle for second best.” Pastor Peabody cleared his throat. Nicki felt heat rise in her cheeks, but Blake merely smiled. The chubby minister began the service. The words droned on, and all the while Nicki was intensely aware of the man at her side. Tenderly, Blake slipped the Diamond signet ring from her thumb, then replaced it on the third finger of her left hand. Nicki closed her hand over the ring that had already given her so much strength and hope, then raised her gaze to his. “May this be the symbol of the peace between our families once and for all. On my honor.” His deep voice trembled with emotion. When Blake lifted her chin and kissed her, the world became right and perfect. “I love you, Nicole Dylan.” Tears came again, but were brought on by a joy she had never dreamed of. “The most wonderful thing is that I believe you truly mean it.” Blake cupped her face with both his hands, and his eyes glistened with moisture. “You are most firmly entrenched in the heart of this Diamond.” His lips covered hers, warm, smooth, sparking an answer of passion and promise. THE END