Once Upon A Diamond (A sweet Regency Historical Romance)

by Teresa McCarthy

Tristan took his seat and could only imagine what Kate thought of him now. She had her opera glasses raised in his direction. Frowning, he turned to watch the play. The Taming of the Shrew, he smiled to himself, how appropriate.

  Edward leaned his way, lowering his voice. “Best take notes. Kate could have doubled for the part. And just so you know, Charlotte’s giving me the cold shoulder because of you.”

  Tristan shrugged. He couldn’t worry about that now. His attention was focused on the handsome man seated next to Kate. He grabbed the opera glasses from Edward.

  “A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty...”

  Tristan flinched at the fitting words echoing from below as he eyed Kate frowning back at him. Who the hell was that blond-haired Greek god sitting next to her? He didn’t need opera glasses to see that the man was eyeing Kate like he owned her.

  Tristan dropped the glasses into his lap.

  Fury filled him as he watched the scene playing out in the Duke of Ridgewater’s box. And was that Lord Douberry glaring at him from the adjacent box? His hands curled at his sides. He wanted to strangle two men in the same night. He must be going mad.

  Lady Helen turned a stiff smile upon Tristan. “Forgive me, my lord, but I detect my father winking at me from Rushting’s box. I do believe he is in need of my presence. If you would do me the honor of escorting me, I would forever be in your debt.”

  Tristan answered with a nod and made his way from the box with Lady Helen attached to his arm. But Kate, the diamond, and Douberry, were all problems gnawing at his brain like a beaver sawing wood. Each one was a dilemma growing to monumental proportions and something would have to be done. Soon!

  After depositing Lady Helen to the Rushting box, which was only three boxes from Kate, Tristan decided to stand guard outside the duke’s box until the end of the play.

  At the end of the last scene, applause erupted throughout the theater and the curtain fell across the stage. Girding his resolve, Tristan finally stepped inside the duke’s box, his face a mask of fury. The blond-haired man was tilting his head toward Kate in an intimate way that sent Tristan’s blood soaring through his veins.

  And then the man did the unspeakable, he glanced up at Tristan, presenting him with a mocking smile that fueled Tristan’s rage to overflowing. Lifting a challenging brow, the man began whispering something to Kate, almost pressing his lips against her snowy soft skin.

  It was all Tristan could do not to shove the man over the railing. He strode forward with one purpose in mind.

  Kate spun around and gasped. “Tristan–”

  But it was too late for explanations. Tristan picked the blond-haired gentleman up by his cravat, slamming an iron fist into his smirking face. The blow sent the man him flying into Devin’s lap with a thud, drawing the attention of many of the nearby boxes.

  The duchess, garbed in her fanciest blue silk gown, watched in horror. “Good heavens,” she screamed a second before she fainted into her husband’s arms.

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

  “Matthew!”

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

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

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

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

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

  Tristan laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Charlotte stiffened. “What potted plant?”

  Edward pointed to the ballroom. “That one.”

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

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

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

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

  Charlotte felt her heart drop.

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

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

  “What are you laughing about?”

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

  “Why?”

  “Because you love me.”

  “Love you?” Edward glanced over his shoulder, then back at Charlotte. “By Jove, I’m mad about you, Charlotte. You drive me insane.” He pulled her behind the towering statue, his head moving dangerously close to hers.

&nbs
p; Charlotte blinked in panic. “Mr. Fullerton, this statue is much bigger than that little rhododendron. I truly don’t think—

  “Call me Edward when we’re alone, darling. And don’t think. Don’t talk. Just kiss me.”

  She complied as he clamped his mouth down upon hers, with a possessiveness that sent her head spinning.

  The only light came from the half moon hanging in the nighttime sky. Kate shivered. She hated the darkness that surrounded them. It seemed cold and lifeless. But almost more than that she hated the feeling of Gaston’s eyes resting on her shoulders.

  She had no sane reason why she had strolled into the garden with this man, but she knew one thing for certain, Tristan would be furious with her. The faint sound of the orchestra played in the wind, and she felt an uncomfortable heat sweep through her.

  “Captain?” she asked, waiting for a response. “I think I would like to go back now.”

  No answer. Her heart plummeted as she regarded the captain’s icy stare. It seemed as though he didn’t see her anymore, but someone else.

  What was wrong with the man? She spun on her slippers to retrace her steps. She heard the captain’s heels click off the stone path, hitting the dirt. She had no time to react as his hand reached out and wrapped around her elbow, dragging her to him.

  “Katherine.”

  “Captain!”

  His breath was hot against her ear and she suppressed a shiver as she spoke. “P–perhaps we should head back. It’s a bit chilly out here and I would like to return.” Chilly was an understatement.

  “Perhaps, if I hold you like this you can warm yourself.” He turned her around with a quick jerk and circled his hands about her waist.

  “Captain, please, you’re hurting me.”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t want this, my dear.”

  Kate pushed against his chest, trying to break free. “I don’t want this. Let me go!”

  She kicked him in the shin. He swore, dragging her further into the darkness of the garden. She could hardly breathe from his tight hold.

  “I’ve always wanted you, Katherine. You’ve teased me long enough.” He gripped her shoulders, ripping the top of her gown in the struggle. Her bare shoulder bore the brunt of his nails.