When You Give a Duke a Diamond

by Shana Galen

  “Neither can I,” Juliette said, though she was careful to tell herself his presence meant nothing. But it did mean she would remain the center of attention. The ton wanted something to happen between the two of them. This was exactly the situation she had wanted.

  “You are going to be certain Darlington makes good on his promise, aren’t you?” Lily asked.

  Juliette frowned, trying to keep Pelham in sight as the crowds swirled between them. “What promise?”

  Lily made a sound of exasperation. “He said he’d stand on his head if Pelham attended, and you said you’d hold him to it.”

  “Oh.” Had Pelham always been so tall? Had he always been so handsome?

  Lily was still looking at her. Juliette blinked. “Yes, I will hold Darlington to his promise.”

  “But not now,” Fallon said. “Here’s Prinny, and your opportunity, Juliette.”

  Fallon was right. She curtseyed as Prinny made his entrance, watched as he spoke to his favorites, and smiled when he nodded at her before making his way over to Pelham, who was standing near one set of the French doors leading to the gardens. So Prinny was anticipating her meeting with the Dangerous Duke, just like everyone else. Well, she couldn’t disappoint her sovereign, now could she?

  She felt a surge of excitement as she started across the room. In her mind, she was no longer Juliette, but the Duchess of Dalliance. She was not a divorced country girl pretending to be a beautiful courtesan in the big city. She was royalty; she was elegance; she was one of The Three Diamonds.

  The crowds parted as the Red Sea must have done for Moses. As she stepped into the divide, she wondered if the Red Sea had as many sharks as the ton. If so, Moses had more bravery than she’d given him credit for. It was not easy to walk past those sharks and pay them no mind. But she kept her gaze on Pelham and was soon close enough that she could hear his voice—low and velvet soft—and Prinny’s—high and far too feminine.

  Prinny, as usual, was overly excited by the prospect of a scene to come and was blathering to Pelham about marriage. Juliette wanted to spin on her heel and retreat. Such a ridiculous statement gave the duke no choice but to deny it. Now was not the time to meet him, but she’d come too far to turn back now. She stopped behind Pelham and heard him say, quite clearly, “If you mean to imply that I might be marrying that strumpet—”

  Prinny, of course, warned him of her presence. Juliette was actually sorry for that. She would have liked to hear how Pelham finished the sentence. She could have also used another moment to compose herself. If she was the blushing sort—and she hadn’t been that sort since she was seventeen—her face would have been bright pink. Instead, she felt the heat but maintained her impassive expression.

  “I’ve been called far worse,” she said.

  Pelham turned to her, and she took a short, quick breath. She had never been this close to him. She had seen him only across gardens and ballrooms. Usually men looked handsome from a distance, and when one drew closer, one noted the so-called handsome man had hair growing out of his nose or pockmarks on his cheek or food in his teeth.

  But Pelham was perfect. He was dressed immaculately in evening wear, the cut of his coat tight over broad shoulders. His cravat was tied simply but impeccably, and his breeches were snug over muscled thighs. His skin was a rich bronze, indicating he spent some time outdoors. Perhaps that was where he’d acquired the streaks of red and gold in his thick, wavy brown hair. That hair was a bit longer than was fashionable, as though the duke had better things to do than sit idly for a haircut.

  His eyes were impossibly blue. She didn’t remember Pelham’s eyes being quite so vivid a blue before. She did not think she had ever seen eyes so brilliant. Men often remarked on her eyes, but she thought they were too pale. Pelham’s were dark and bright and… hard. No wonder he was called the Dangerous Duke. She was tempted to step back when his gaze swept over her.

  She didn’t. Instead, she notched her chin up, smiled, and ignored him. She focused her gaze on Prinny and curtseyed gracefully—Lady Sinclair would have been proud. “Your Royal Highness, I’m honored to be here.”

  Prinny giggled—probably because he had been trying to see down her bodice—and stepped forward. He took her gloved hand and kissed it. “Duchess, I am honored to have you in attendance. Might I say that you look exquisite?”

  “You might. I should be disappointed if you didn’t.” Juliette focused her gaze on the top of Prinny’s head, but she could feel Pelham’s dark gaze on her. She didn’t know why it should make her feel so warm and tingly when he was looking at her with such scorn.

  Prinny giggled again. “You look exquisite, Duchess. As always. You know I could think of more compliments, but I’d like to give them to you in private.”

  Juliette was adept at maneuvering around the prince’s suggestions for liaisons. She glanced markedly at Pelham, and said, “Your Royal Highness, do introduce me to your friend. Perhaps then he might cease staring at me.”

  “There’s no need for an introduction,” Pelham said in that low, velvet voice. “You know perfectly well who I am.”

  Prinny gleefully clapped his hands together. Juliette was aware the whole of the assembly crowded closer, hoping to overhear. “And Your Grace obviously knows who I am. I’ve read so much about us, it’s a pleasure to finally meet the man with whom I’m having a scandalous affair.” She thought his mouth might have quirked minutely. “I will say I’m happy to find you are even more handsome than in the sketches I’ve seen.”

  Juliette could almost see the ton’s collective neck craning to hear more. As one, their heads swiveled to Pelham. It was his turn to compliment her. What would he say?

  “Your Royal Highness,” Pelham addressed the prince. “If you’ll excuse me, my fiancée is waiting.”

  The prince blinked. “Ah—I—”

  Pelham began to move away, and Juliette almost choked.

  Pelham was going to cut her!

  In front of the entire beau monde.

  Prinny was still stammering, trying to think of something to say to keep the duke from walking away, from ruining her.

  Juliette couldn’t leave this to the prince, and she couldn’t allow Pelham to cut her. She didn’t have time to think. She composed her face into an expression of ennui and remarked, “Too bad the papers didn’t mention how rude you are.”

  The prince gasped. At least she thought it was the prince. It might have been someone else in the crowd. But her statement worked. Pelham stopped. Slowly—her heart pounded at least ten times—he turned and directed those dark blue eyes at her.

  “Excuse me?”

  Her instinct was to apologize. Instead, she stepped forward to face him. They were standing toe-to-toe now. “I thought you had better manners than to be rude to a lady.”

  He raised a brow. “You are correct.”

  She was? Juliette almost smiled. She was saved.

  “I would never be rude to a lady. You, madam, are not a lady. You are nothing more than a well-paid whore.”

  The silence surrounding them was as thick as London’s morning fog. Juliette could all but hear the blood racing through her veins. It flowed fast and hot because she was truly angry now. How dare he? Who did he think he was? She had done nothing to him to deserve this.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fallon and Lily approaching. No doubt they would intervene to save her. But Juliette didn’t want to be saved. She wanted to bring Pelham down a notch or three. He had turned away from her again and was beginning to move through the crowd. Juliette cleared her throat. “I would rather be a well-paid whore, sir, than an insufferable ass.”

  He jerked to a halt and spun around. His fists were clenched and his face red with what looked like fury.

  “One is a choice and can be changed,” she continued, raising her voice so it would carry. “Wher
eas the other is a permanent trait of the personality. Not that you have much of one.”

  And with that, she turned on her heel and strolled away. She kept her head high and her face composed, but inside she was seething. And as she caught a glimpse of the faces of the members of the ton, she felt the first stirrings of panic. They were moving out of her path, their expressions full of pity. Juliette didn’t mind the pity; it was the men who refused to meet her eyes that caused her stomach to tense and tighten. If she had just become unfashionable and unwanted, her career was over. How would she pay for her town house? Her clothes? Her carriage?

  Her debts were not outrageous, but she did not have nearly enough saved to cover them. And she would not, could not, ask Sinclair to pay them for her. He had done more than enough for her already.

  Damn Pelham! She wished she had never heard his name.

  She was still walking, she knew not where, when Fallon and Lily appeared on either side of her. Somewhere in the distance she heard the orchestra begin to play a reel.

  “That was magnificent,” Fallon said. “You put him in his place.”

  Juliette shook her head. “Then why isn’t anyone looking at me? Why are you two the only ones dashing to comfort me? I’m done for.”

  “Nonsense,” Lily said, but she was a bad liar, and Juliette heard the tinny notes of false confidence in her voice.

  “Who cares?” Fallon said.

  “I care,” Juliette hissed. “My creditors will care. How will I pay them?”

  “Sinclair—” Lily began.

  Juliette held up a hand. “No. I won’t take his charity again.”

  “Calm down.” Fallon put a hand on Juliette’s arm. “We’ll discuss this in the carriage on the way to Somerville. Lady Sinclair will know what to do if we three are unable to work out a solution.”

  Fallon was right, and Juliette took a long, measured breath. Her heart slowed its rapid staccato. “You’re right. Perhaps it is a good time to leave London.” First that business with Lucifer, and now Pelham.

  “It is,” Lily agreed. “A holiday is precisely what we need. In fact, let’s quit the ball now and begin preparations.”

  “No.” Juliette shook her head. She could see what her friends were doing, and she would not take them down with her. “You stay here. I’m sure you have dances reserved. I’m going to take in some fresh air and then sneak away.”

  “No!” Lily cried. “We’ll go with you. You don’t have to leave. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Juliette could have hugged her, and Fallon, too. They were such loyal friends. Their own good intentions would be their ruin. Juliette wouldn’t allow it. “I need some time alone,” she said, her tone harsh so Fallon would not argue. “I’d really prefer it if you afforded me some time to myself.”

  Lily frowned but nodded. “Very well. If that’s what you wish.”

  Juliette started moving away, but Fallon caught her arm. “I know what you’re doing. I’ll allow it this time, but we will stand by you.”

  When they had both been absorbed by the crowd and Juliette stood alone, she whispered, “Thanks.”

  For the first time in recent memory, no one clamored for her attention. No man was at her elbow with champagne or a request for a dance or a jeweled ornament he begged her to accept. No women were observing her, studying her mannerisms or her gown. She was an outcast and would be completely ignored.

  The panic swirled again, and the room spun. She really did need some air. She managed to make it through a set of French doors and leaned her hands against the balustrade. The small balcony overlooked the prince’s gardens, but Juliette was not interested in the view. She concentrated on filling her lungs with air and tried not to think about Pelham.

  Breathe. Just breathe, she told herself. This was not how she had hoped the night would end, but it was not the end of the world. So her reign as one of The Three Diamonds was at an end. She’d had worse setbacks. She would recover.

  She always did.

  “Are you certain you prefer to wait out here?” a man’s voice asked. Juliette shook her head. It sounded remarkably like Pelham. Now she was imagining him?

  “Yes. I feel faint in this stuffy ballroom.”

  Juliette’s head jerked up. She had not imagined the woman’s voice. It must be Pelham and his fiancée. The last thing Juliette wanted was to be seen by either of them. She pushed off the balustrade and scurried into a shadowed corner then wedged herself behind one of the open French doors. It was scant protection if either of them looked directly at her, but it was the only place to hide.

  “I’ll fetch your pelisse and be back momentarily.”

  “Thank you,” Pelham’s fiancée said. She was pretty but not overly so. Still, Juliette could see the woman had grace and bearing. Her gown, her hair, and her face might be rather plain, but she was regal. She moved out onto the balcony while Pelham stalked away. Juliette breathed a little easier when Pelham’s fiancée walked straight to the balustrade and peered out at the gardens. Now would have been an excellent time to sneak back into the ballroom. Unfortunately, she was trapped behind the door. If she had been wearing a dark-colored dress, she might have risked moving out of the shadows, but the silver was too conspicuous and shiny. She need only stay hidden for a moment. Pelham would be back, and then he would whisk his fiancée away.

  Poor woman.

  Juliette hoped she never saw the duke again.

  “I know you’re there,” the woman said.

  Juliette jumped. Had the duke’s fiancée seen her step outside? Then why would she follow? Did she want to speak to her? Well, Juliette had nothing to say to the woman. She was about to declare this when a man’s voice answered, “You’ve kept me waiting.”

  Juliette froze. There was something familiar about that voice. She shivered and pressed against the wall so hard she would have melted into it if possible. “Pelham is difficult to maneuver,” the woman said. Her voice sounded rather husky more than regal now. “I was lucky to make our rendezvous at all.”

  The man dressed exclusively in black climbed over the balustrade. The balcony was low, and Juliette realized he must have been waiting under it for some time. Had he seen her?

  He glanced up when he was firmly on the balcony, and the lights from the ballroom illuminated his face.

  Juliette stifled a scream.

  It was Lucifer.

  For an instant, she thought he saw her, but then his gaze flicked to Pelham’s fiancée, and he took her in his arms, bending her back and kissing her fiercely. Juliette could only stare in shock at the entwined couple. She definitely wanted to escape now. Why had she ever thought fresh air would invigorate her? She was scared senseless!

  She did not even want to imagine why the Duke of Pelham’s fiancée was kissing Lucifer, and she most certainly did not want to be present when the duke returned to find the two.

  Thankfully, the kiss ended. “I don’t want to go home with him,” the woman said. “I’d rather go with you.”

  “Yes, we have much to discuss,” Lucifer answered.

  “I hadn’t been thinking of actually talking,” Pelham’s fiancée said. Juliette recognized the sultry tone of her voice and had to cover her mouth to keep from exclaiming.

  Pelham’s fiancée was cuckolding the duke with Lucifer? This was information Juliette did not want. She closed her eyes and wished she could make herself invisible.

  “I wasn’t thinking of talking, either. The time for that is over.” Lucifer’s voice had an undertone Juliette didn’t like. She opened her eyes. Pelham’s fiancée must have been worried, as well, because she took a step back, but Lucifer didn’t release her.

  “What do you mean?” The duke’s fiancée tried to sound unruffled, but even Juliette heard the tremor in her voice.

  “You lied to me, Eliza. You lied
about the courtesan.”

  Eliza shook her head frantically. “No. No, I would never—”

  “I need those diamonds. I’ve already sold them.” He put his hands around her neck. “Tell me where you’ve put them.”

  “I don’t have them. What use would I have for—?”

  “Tell me. I warn you I intend to have the truth one way or another.”

  “Wait!” Eliza clawed at Lucifer’s hands with her own. “Wait! I’ll tell you the truth this time. The duke—” Her words were cut off as Lucifer hurled her to the ground.

  “Do not dare lie to me again!”

  “I’m not. I swear it.”

  Juliette shook, her whole body trembling with fear. She mouthed a silent prayer, swearing if she escaped this balcony alive she would read her Bible every day and give up brandy and help stray dogs and…

  She stifled a scream when Lucifer lifted Eliza off the ground and threw her against the balustrade. Eliza stumbled back, tripped on her gown, and fell against the hard stone. Juliette cringed at the sickening crack. Lucifer stood perfectly still, watching Eliza’s body. Blood trickled down her forehead and dripped on the stone beneath. The balcony was silent but for the sounds of a quadrille being played inside. Juliette held her breath as Lucifer approached the woman.

  Please let her be alive. Please.

  Lucifer knelt, blocking Juliette’s view. But she heard his mutter clearly enough. “Bloody whore. Now what am I supposed to do with you?”

  He crouched and lifted her body. Juliette was all but curled into a ball behind the French doors. Don’t turn. Don’t turn.

  He didn’t. In one move, he dumped the body over the edge of the low balcony. Juliette heard the soft thud as it landed in the grass. She stiffened, certain he would turn and see her now. Instead, he made a smooth leap over the balustrade and was gone.

  Juliette did not dare move. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the horrible images she’d seen. She had to find Fallon and Lily. She had to get out of here. She began to rise then ducked down again as a shadow fell across the balcony. “My lady?” a velvet voice asked.