Diamond in the Rogue

by Wendy Lacapra

  Julia shook her head. “I wanted Rayne.”

  Katherine’s brow wrinkled. “I worried the most when you didn’t immediately pay a call. That letter you sent wasn’t like you at all. You’ve been at the Grange almost a week. Why did you stay away?”

  Julia threaded her hands together and opened her palms, studying her crisscrossed fingers. “I—I suppose I wanted to give Rayne time to adjust.”

  “And I take it, from your tears, he hasn’t yet ‘adjusted’?”

  Julia’s shoulders sagged. “He never wanted to return to the Grange. But he went back to a place he hated…for me.” She glanced up. “What do I do? How can I make this right?”

  A knock sounded against the doorjamb. Julia knew without looking that her brother and brother-in-law wanted to join them.

  Katherine glanced to Julia. “Bromton knows him better than I do.”

  Julia nodded.

  “Come in, Giles,” Katherine called. “You, too, Percy.”

  Julia wiped away her tears and smiled. Her family, complete…but for Clarissa and Rayne.

  Never leave a sullen man in silence.

  “I shouldn’t have left him,” she gasped. “Especially in wrath.”

  “Why not?” Markham asked.

  “Farring said,” Julia replied, “if you leave a sullen man in silence for too long, he’ll think thoughts, and then you’re finished.”

  Katherine and Bromton exchanged a glance.

  “What else,” Bromton asked warily, “did Farring tell you?”

  Julia glanced up and out the corner of her eye. “As I told Markham, if you wish to blame anyone, blame me. Abducting Rayne was Farring’s idea, but I’m not so sure I wouldn’t have gone to the Pillar myself sometime in the night. I would have done just about anything for Rayne. And though the Grange is not how I pictured it, I swear I’d do everything I’ve done again. Love is inconvenient.”

  Markham’s lips twisted. “Farring again, I believe.”

  Bromton dragged a chair next to the settee. He sat down, braced his elbows on his knees, and sought Julia’s gaze. “Rayne’s disposed to silence. In that much, Farring’s right. But are you to distract him every time he takes to brooding? Even you do not have that much enthusiasm, Jules.”

  “What am I to do, then?”

  “I’m afraid there is little you can do. The only person who can change Rayne is Rayne. But he’s embraced his responsibilities and, from what I hear, has been making some effective changes down at the mines. That’s saying something. The time abroad was good for him, I think.”

  Markham made a low noise. “He revealed his essential character when he tried to break up Bromton and Katherine that night in the library.”

  “No.” Julia shook her head. “He didn’t reveal his character…he revealed his pain.”

  “That,” Markham said, “is a distinction without a difference.”

  “Everyone disappoints themselves at some time,” Julia insisted. “Everyone blunders. Are we to ignore the humanity of everyone who has made a mistake?”

  “You might be surprised…” Bromton squeezed Julia’s shoulder. “But I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Forgive anything you wish,” Markham said. “But beware of anyone who clings to a sense of superiority in their anger.”

  “I trust you, Markham…but still.” She scowled. “You are only worried about me—which I appreciate—but I’m worried about myself and Rayne. Marriage means considering us both, together.”

  Katherine glanced up at Markham. “She’s right, you know.”

  Julia reached out to her brother. “I was so, so angry with Clarissa when she hurt you, Markham. I wouldn’t have forgiven her the way you did.”

  Markham pursed his lips and turned away.

  “Markham, you’re neither overly confident nor quick to anger,” Katherine said. “Nor are you guided by unexamined prejudice.”

  Markham cast a wary glance over his shoulder. “I’m expecting a ‘however’ at any moment…”

  “However, you must admit you are”—Katherine smiled at her brother—“occasionally wrong. Everyone does blunder. You forgave Clarissa for refusing you. And I forgave you for wagering me in a card game.”

  Markham made a low noise in his throat. “Yes, I made a bad decision,” he conceded, “but I made it out of love. Again—I knew you and Bromton would suit. You cannot make me believe Rayne barged into our library that night with any intent but to wound.”

  “He barged in that way.” Bromton’s gaze fell to Julia. “But I wager he left in an entirely different spirit. What’s more, I’m not so certain Rayne wasn’t acting from his own version of brotherly concern—both for me and for Clarissa.” Bromton swirled his glass. “I’m afraid I have more to do with his current predicament than I’d like to admit.”

  “You?” Markham asked.

  “First, I broke a promise, and I never explained my reasons. Then, Rayne watched me change—drastically. I imagine he felt further betrayed when I failed to take him into my confidence.”

  Katherine turned to Bromton. “Are you going to tell him, then?”

  Bromton nodded. “I asked my mother’s permission, which she granted. And you? How would you feel about my bringing him into my confidence?”

  “You know I’d rather the rift was healed—especially”—Katherine touched Julia’s cheek—“now.”

  “What are the two of you talking about?” Julia asked.

  “I’m afraid I provided a bad example for Rayne, an arrogance, a way of living I never questioned until I learned that my assumptions were based on a lie.” Bromton sighed. “It’s a long story with a happier ending than I deserved. For that, I have your sister to thank.”

  “After the way Rayne revealed my secret,” Markham asked, “how could you possibly trust him with yours?”

  “He can be trusted,” Julia said with quiet assurance. “You don’t know, Markham. You don’t understand. Time and time again, he’s taken care of me—even when he was at his most angry.”

  “In marrying him, you’ve trusted him with your life.” Katherine sighed. “What say you, Julia? Shall we Stanleys close ranks? Draw our battle lines so they encompass his?”

  Julia caught up a quivering lip. “Can you, Markham?”

  “Well…” Markham rolled his neck. “My wife would be pleased. And, if you are sure, I can—for your sake.”

  Julia looked her brother in the eye. “I’ve never been more certain.”

  Bromton chuckled. “You never stopped being certain of Rayne, did you?”

  Julia smiled slyly. “And he thought a little ocean could keep us apart.”

  The sound of a door opening echoed up from the hall. A servant announced Clarissa and Rayne.

  Katherine smiled reassuringly. “I guess Rayne wasn’t so eager to be rid of you after all.”

  Julia collapsed back into her sister’s arms with relief.

  Hoping love would prevail was one thing, but knowing Rayne had finally chosen her, that was the real miracle.

  …

  Unlike Clarissa, Rayne had been shown not into the family area, but to Bromton’s study. He followed without protest, strangely confident.

  He and the butler reached the door together. He stayed the butler with a hand to his arm.

  “I’ll alert Bromton, Bartley.”

  If he was to repair the rift between himself and Bromton, he would do so on his own terms—not as a wayward youth, summoned for a scolding, but as a brother-in-law and equal.

  Bartley inclined his head and withdrew.

  Rayne rapped on the door with the back of his knuckle. “Bromton?”

  Bromton opened the door. And, for the first time since Bromton had landed his punch almost two years ago, Rayne was alone in a room with the man who had once been mentor, brother, and friend.

&nb
sp; “Join me?” Bromton lifted a decanter.

  “I’d like that.”

  Bromton’s study hadn’t materially changed—same desk, same sconces, same curtains. Yet Rayne sensed a distinct difference in detail.

  Bromton had kept this room pristine and ordered at all times, but the room was now powdered with signs of life. Glasses sat askew next to a pile of papers. A book had been left out, open. And what looked like a child’s carved boat rested on the edge of the blotter.

  Much the same could be said of the marquess himself—Bromton’s vigor and presence remained but with softened edges.

  “You’ve come for your wife, I presume.”

  “I’m not what you wanted for her; I know.” Rayne rubbed his temple. “I’m not what I wanted for her.”

  “I believe you.” Bromton’s mouth quirked. “She’s…hard to resist once she’s made up her mind.”

  Rayne’s heartbeat slowed. “Has she made up her mind?”

  “Yes. In your favor, of course. Irrevocably.”

  Rayne closed his eyes. He’d been almost certain. Then again, he wouldn’t have taken kindly to being told to leave. But she was better than he was that way.

  He vowed to be better, too.

  “You’re wrong, you know,” Bromton said. “I never thought you were unworthy of Julia.”

  Rayne lifted a brow. “You quite clearly stated that if I ever so much as—”

  “She was young, inexperienced, and you…well, to be honest, I didn’t believe you were sincerely interested—or thinking clearly, for that matter. I was furious.”

  “So was I.” Rayne lifted his brows. “As for thinking clearly, I probably was not. I confess I think differently when she’s near.”

  Bromton chuckled. “I understand, my friend.”

  The years they’d known each other were reflected in Bromton’s expression. So many years.

  “Am I?” Rayne swallowed. “Your friend, I mean?”

  “I’d like to think so. And I admit, by sending you away, I did you both a grave wrong.”

  “No.” Rayne shook his head. “I needed to go away—both for Julia and for myself. She would have regretted not having a season, and I—I learned a great deal in New York.”

  Bromton searched his gaze. “Will you stay?”

  Rayne nodded.

  “She’d be happier if she feels free to see her sister.”

  Rayne frowned. “She may do as she pleases, of course.”

  “And you—are you averse to visiting us from time to time?”

  Rayne hadn’t known—hadn’t even guessed how deeply the break between them still wounded. “Are you saying I’m welcome again?”

  “Laithe”—Bromton called him by his boyhood name—“we were brothers. I’ve missed you.”

  A strange, prickling sensation passed over his scalp. He waited for the fitful feeling to pass. “Am I forgiven, then?”

  “A little forgiveness would help all around. The fact is, you told the truth—and if I had done the same, none of this would have happened.” Bromton sighed. “You were…pained. And no—I can’t take credit for that bit of insight.”

  “Sounds like Julia. Devilishly perceptive, my wife.”

  Bromton chuckled. “You should get to know her sister.”

  Rayne’s prickling sensation returned. He’d an odd vision of them all together—and, to his surprise, the vision was not at all unpleasant.

  Rayne swallowed. “I’d like that.”

  Bromton turned away—but he’d seen Bromton’s mirrored response in the way his eyes had sheened. Brothers.

  “What happened, Brom?”

  “About time I explained, no?” Bromton poured them both a drink and began. “The story starts with the fourth marquess and a ruthless desire for an heir…”

  Rayne listened with sympathetic horror as Bromton unraveled the reasons behind his abrupt change in character and priorities, how they had led to the bet that had ended in his betrothal to Katherine and, eventually, to his own realization that he’d fallen in love and that only he could define his fate.

  “So you see,” Bromton finished, “I wish I’d told Katherine the truth about everything from the start. But even more—I wish I’d had the courage to set aside my shame and tell both you and Clarissa the real reason I broke my longstanding agreement to wed.”

  The last of Rayne’s scotch burned down his throat. “You didn’t want Clarissa to be shamed if the truth came out.”

  Bromton nodded. “We hadn’t a sincere attachment. I thought I should bear the lie alone.”

  Though the circumstances were vastly different, Rayne had thought much the same.

  “Another?” Bromton asked.

  “No, though I appreciate the offer.” He needed his wits.

  Bromton set down his glass. “When I was the image of the man I believed to be my father, you looked up to me… Now, I’ve been humbled—”

  “You’re a better man.” Rayne fingered the edge of his empty tumbler. “How did you do it? How did you change?”

  “In fits and starts, I suppose.” Bromton shrugged. “Forgiveness comes easily to Katherine. Impossible for me. Takes effort. Every time.”

  “Forgiveness comes easily to Julia, too.”

  “Those three do believe everyone has inherent worth.” He smiled wryly. “The danger is delusions of invincibility. Perhaps they need irascible people like you, Clarissa, and me to keep them safe.”

  Bromton tilted his head and smirked—self-deprecating. Rayne felt a surge of the old warmth.

  Slowly, he smiled. “Delusions of invincibility.”

  “Enough to make a small, incurable firebrand attempt the impossible—the redemption of a rake.”

  Rayne chuckled. “Be careful how you talk about my wife.”

  Bromton exhaled, smiled, and nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “I will take care of her, you know.” And do his best to allow her to take care of him. “To that end, there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you—something I think would show Julia I mean to make amends—no matter what it takes.”

  “Whatever you need”—Bromton inclined his head—“consider me at your disposal.”

  Rayne survived the quarter hour with Bromton, Katherine, Clarissa, and Markham by anticipating this very moment—he and Julia, in the dark of the carriage, alone. Over time, the camaraderie would return, but that first meeting had been stilted and awkward, and besides, he had some groveling to do…and a little attention to pay.

  Draped across his lap, Julia snuggled into his neck. “You came for me.”

  “I did.” He hefted her hips so he could get a proper hold. “Did you doubt?”

  “You demanded I leave.” Her fingers teased his nape. “Then again, you’re never quite yourself after we lie together.”

  “I’d use a cruder word for what we did.” He laughed softly. “But I hope we’ll do plenty of both kinds of frigging…and often.”

  Julia grinned. “Just say the word.”

  “What word?” He quirked a brow. “Fuck?”

  He caught her shiver in a tightened embrace.

  “You are terribly wanton,” he murmured against her hair. “Don’t change.”

  “If I had any intention of changing, would I have picked you?”

  “Now there’s something to think about.” He closed his eyes. “I—I didn’t know being confined was your deepest fear. I had no idea. I was with you during a nightmare—remember? I would not have subjected you…”

  She pulled back. “You gave me every opportunity, remember? You asked me—you demanded I tell the truth. I did. I trust you.”

  “I’ll give you good reason. I swear.”

  “No reason required—as long as you don’t betray my trust. Besides, I wasn’t bound to that table. I was connected—sublimely connecte
d—to you. Not my greatest fear, but everything I’ve wanted since you walked into my life.” She brushed her finger across his right brow. “You lifted this in the haughtiest of ways and said…”

  “At your service.” They spoke in unison.

  “I’m an arrogant ass.”

  “Extravagantly arrogant,” she cheerfully agreed. “And perfect for me, as I’m exceedingly selfish.”

  “Impressively focused.”

  She grinned. “We fit.”

  “That we do.” He brushed her hair back with his fingers. “Did you get what you wanted?”

  “No,” she said. “I know now that you aren’t the end I need to achieve. You aren’t a battle I’m going to win.

  “What am I, then?”

  “You’re the life I choose to live.”

  He’d never heard more perfect words…

  “I love you, Rayne.”

  …Until now.

  Unwieldy sentiments dammed beneath his eyes. He’d no hope of containing them for long. But, for once, they weren’t the kind of sentiments that wrought destruction but the kind that built hope.

  “I love you, too.” He touched her face. “We’ve both said the words,” he continued, “we’ve both negated the other. But the fact still remains. I will prove I love you. Over and over and over, if it takes the rest of my life.”

  “I believe you.” She rocked up against him and raised her brows. “And I believe a part of you is very interested in proving something else right now.”

  “Chafing, minx.” He chuckled softly. “Simple friction.”

  “Well, I’d hate to waste. How quickly can we get home?”

  Home. He liked the sound of the word on her lips.

  He’d prepared himself for the worst, for her rejection.

  She’d been there all along, waiting for him to take possession—not of her or of his home but of his other birthright, every human’s birthright—the will to shape their destiny.

  She’d once served as his destruction, but everything she’d destroyed had been artifice. All along she’d scared him so badly because she embodied the life he could have chosen if he had reined in his hurt and resentment.

  And he’d never again be ruled by fear.