Diamonds and Dreams

by Rebecca Paisley

  Her gaze drifted back to the closet. “But what if I do set it on fire? Gertrude Micklewhite set her cape on fire once. And she had it tied in such a tight knot, she couldn’t get it off before it burned the tips of her ninnies. They didn’t burn so badly that they melted or anything like that, but they got seared some.”

  The unseemly thought of “seared ninnies” struck Saber’s sense of humor. It occurred to him that breasts aflame were no laughing matter, but after all, they hadn’t melted or anything like that, he remembered with a smile. “Goldie, why don’t I watch you at all times while you’re wearing the gown? I’ll warn you if you get close to a flame of any sort.”

  “Well...”

  Saber returned to the hall. “I’m giving you exactly one minute to put one of them on. After that, I’m coming back into this room.”

  She jumped when he shut the door. Slowly, hesitantly, she removed her dress, stepping out of the muddy puddle it made at her feet. She rummaged through the gowns once more, choosing one of warm coral silk. It rustled as she held it, the delicate sound making her shiver with anticipation.

  “The minute is almost over, Goldie!”

  “Oh, great day Miss Agnes, he’s gonna see me naked!” With one smooth motion, she lifted the gown over her head, feeling it caress the length of her entire body as it fell into place. Lost in the wonderful sensation, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy it. “I’m wearin’ silk. Pure silk, and I’m really and truly wearin’ it.”

  “And does it feel as nice as it looks?” Saber asked.

  Her eyes flew open. He was standing in the threshold of the closet. “You—”

  “I told you I’d give you one minute. The minute ended, and here I am.”

  “Well, it’s a damn good thing I got the thing on in time, isn’t it?”

  He was fully aware that his sudden return into her room was thoroughly improper. He tried to summon shame over his action, but instead grinned rakishly.

  “You look like Smiley Jones, standing there grinnin’ like that, Saber,” Goldie told him, unable to keep from smiling back at him.

  “I don’t recall ever being compared to a mule.” How odd, he thought. Only two weeks ago being likened to a mule would have annoyed him greatly. Now he found it amusing.

  “You should be flattered,” Goldie informed him. “Smiley Jones has a nice smile. Here, would you do me up?”

  When she turned, the shoulders of the gown fell away, sliding down to her upper arms. Saber saw the creamy expanse of her back, and wondered what that skin would feel like beneath his palms. He decided he would discover the answer for himself.

  He stepped closer to her. So close, Goldie felt his warm breath wafting down to the top of her bare shoulder. That ache...that strange, sweet ache began its slow-winding dance within her.

  Guard your heart, Goldie, she remembered suddenly, struggling to heed the warning. “Saber, do me up,” she told him, trying to sound impatient.

  Saber raised his hands, placing them upon the ivory flesh of her shoulders. Her skin was so warm. So soft. God, he wanted to taste it. “Goldie,” he whispered, his fingers smoothing down her arms.

  “Do me up,” she told him again, every fiber of her being tingling with that yearning she always experienced when he was near. Breathe, Goldie, she told herself when her lungs began to burn with lack of air. Breathe and calm yourself! “Saber, are you gonna do me up, or you want me to get Big to do it?”

  “I,” he said, bending toward her shoulders, “will do it.”

  Having had no idea, no forewarning of what he was going to do, Goldie gasped when she felt his lips touch her shoulder. Her knees buckled, but even before she knew she was falling, she was in Saber’s arms.

  And they were descending, she realized. Slowly. He was kneeling, taking her with him. On the floor, he sat and laid her across his lap, allowing her head to rest within the crook of his elbow.

  She looked up and saw his gaze overflowing with that softness. It swept over her face. Smoothed down her neck.

  And stopped at her breasts.

  With a trembling hand, she touched her chest. It was bare. Her breasts were revealed to him. Figs. Little, unripened figs! Embarrassment coursed through her. She tried to cover herself with her arm.

  “No, Goldie,” he told her, staying her arm. Slowly, he raised his other hand.

  She saw he lifted it to right above her chest, then watched as he brought it closer to her. Nearer to her breasts. Part of her screamed for her to get up and run. The other part couldn’t bear the thought.

  Yes, touch me, her heart begged. “No,” she said out loud. “Don’t. Please don’t.” Her heart pounded as she waited to see what he would do.

  His palm was only a fraction of an inch above the treasures he longed to hold, to taste. “Goldie—”

  “Saber, please. You don’t understand.” I’m so afraid, Saber, she continued silently. So afraid to trust this.

  The expression in her eyes told Saber what words could not. As much as he wanted to touch her, know the feel and taste of her, he would not take what was not offered. “Very well,” he whispered. “As you say.” He moved his hand to her shoulder. There, his fingers caressed her bare skin.

  Goldie realized she should get up. Every instinct in her body told her to do just that. But the feeling of lying in his arms...on the floor...in the dim sanctuary of the closet...made her unable to do what she knew she ought. Wetting her lips, she glanced at her breasts. “You’re seein’ me,” she said nervously.

  He took note of the blush on her cheeks. “I’ve seen you before,” he reminded her.

  She missed a breath. “But it was different then.”

  “Yes.”

  Get up, Goldie, she told herself. “Did you want to touch me then, too?”

  “Yes.” He moved his hand from her shoulder, let it trail across her neck, then slid it up to her mouth. There, he traced the outline of her lips. “But I was afraid you would run me through with your claymore.”

  She smiled. I’m lyin’ in his arms, practically naked, and I can still smile at him. The realization baffled her. “I need to get up. I have to get dressed.”

  “But do you want to get up? Do you want to get dressed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Daddy’s honor?”

  Her smile disappeared. “That’s not fair.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because you know I can’t lie against my oath.”

  His fingers journeyed into her hair. As if alive, her curls captured them, winding around them. He pushed his hand deeper into the flaxen cloud, knowing he’d never felt anything so wonderful. “Ah, then you admit to speaking a falsehood.”

  She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her voice wouldn’t come. Instead, she looked up into his eyes. The softness was still there, but it was dark now. A smoldering softness, like he was on fire inside. The sight of it caused a great need to rise within her. It was more than the ache his nearness always brought. It was almost pain. Her body throbbed with it.

  “Saber, somethin’s happenin’ to me. I’m almost naked. I’m in your lap, and you’re seein’ what no other man has ever seen. It’s makin’ somethin’ happen inside me.”

  Her innocent admission made his chest tighten. “And what is it that’s happening to you, Goldie?”

  The slight tilt of his lips made her realize he already knew the answer to his question. “Saber...”

  “Goldie...”

  “I’m embarrassed.”

  “You’ve no need to be.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “I’m doing nothing to you.”

  “I—Yes, you are.”

  “Really? What?”

  “You’re makin’ me feel things. Things I don’t understand.”

  He never took his gaze from her face. “And these things...are they unpleasant?”

  She saw a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “You know they aren’t.”

  Her answer deepened his desire, and he longed
to show her everything he did, indeed, know. “So what would you suggest we do with these pleasant things you’re feeling?”

  She frowned slightly. “What’s to do with ’em? Don’t they just come and go like all other kinds of feelin’s?”

  He smiled gently. “Yes, I suppose they do, but there are many ways to enjoy them while they last. In fact, there are many ways to heighten them and make them last longer.”

  “And you know those ways, don’t you, Saber?”

  He wasn’t sure how to answer her, and wondered if it would anger her to know he had experience with lovemaking. “I might. Tell me, Goldie, do you know anything about them? Anything at all?”

  His question sent worry shooting through her. She knew next to nothing about the intimate things that could happen between a man and a woman. And if Saber knew that, he would laugh at her, she knew. Or maybe he’d get mad at her. A man as handsome as he...he’d want a woman who knew how to respond to him. Who knew how to give him what he wanted. She felt her own ignorance keenly.

  “Saber, please—I don’t know...I can’t—We—If you laughed, of course I’d get over it. In time, I would. But it wouldn’t be easy. And it’d be even harder if you got mad. I hate to make people mad, Saber.”

  He couldn’t understand her fragmented explanation, but detected a suspicious squeak in her voice. God, how that sad sound tore at him. Helping her into a sitting position upon his lap, he smoothed the curls from her eyes. “Goldie—”

  “I’d try to find that silver linin’ you talked about. Try to find the good thing about bein’ laughed at or havin’ you angry at me, but—”

  “But I’m not angry at you. Nor am I laughing. Why would you think—”

  “Well, for one thing, because of Melba Potts!” she blurted, and felt her cheeks heat again. Quickly, she pulled up her gaping bodice, feeling familiar inadequacies spin through her. “Figs,” she mumbled, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’ve heard about melons, all round and full. But to have figs! Unripened ones! Oh, Saber, you’re a man, and you just can’t imagine how hard it is to sprout figs instead of melons. Not watermelons. I guess those would be too big. But cantaloupes would be nice. They’re not all that big, but they’re big enough. Well, think how you’d feel if instead of seeing ropes of muscles, you saw threads!”

  “Muscle threads? Goldie, what are you talking about?” Completely bewildered, Saber pulled out his handkerchief, pressing it to each of her wet cheeks. “Who is Melba Potts? And what is this about figs and cantaloupes? Why is the thought of fruit making you cry? Goldie, what—”

  “And your hands got trapped just like I knew they would. Just like the bee did. But I can’t help it. I didn’t ask for this yellow bush, y’know. And given a choice, I wouldn’t have picked yellow eyes either. No one likes to go around with devil eyes, Saber, so don’t think for one minute that I do.”

  “Goldie—”

  “Saber, you just can’t know how nice this has been,” she sniffled. “Lyin’ here in the closet with you, with all this silk and satin hangin’ all around us, and you lookin’ down at me with all that dark softness in your eyes. These feelin’s are just too wonderful to describe. But Saber, I’m not—You’re the kind of man—We aren’t—Together, we just don’t... Even though you make me lose my swallowin’—Dreams never last, y’see. I—It’s about my heart. It’s the only one I have. I have to guard it. If it breaks, God won’t give me another one.”

  His hands fell from her shoulders. She has to guard her heart, he repeated silently. From me. Yes, from me. How right she is.

  “Then guard it well, Goldie.” With deft motions, he turned her slightly, fastening the back of her dress.

  Goldie stood and watched him rise. She’d have given anything to know what he was thinking. But all she knew was that the softness was gone from his eyes. “Saber—”

  “I will await you in the library,” he told her, already leaving the closet and heading for the door. “Bring the diaries.”

  “Why?”

  He opened the door. “I’m going to read them. Do they not contain stories of noblemen? Would you keep such information from me? And do you forget that time is passing? You said yourself that you were afraid of what your uncle would do in your absence, and Big echoed that sentiment earlier. You’ve been here for two weeks already. I would think you’d want to hurry things along.”

  That authority was in his voice again, she heard. So was a tinge of anger. And a bit of impatience, too. “I’m sorry. For whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry.”

  Her apology tore at him. It was all he could do not to take her back into his arms. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Goldie. On the contrary, I’m the one who—”

  “No! Saber, you haven’t done anything wrong at all!”

  “Goldie, we will forget this afternoon ever happened,” he told her firmly, his insides coiling at the idea of never being able to touch her again. “It was a mistake, and we both know that. I’m sure you feel the same as I do in that you never want it to happen again. Now, put yourself right, gather up the diaries, and meet me in the library.”

  He shut the door quietly, but Goldie jumped anyway. Every nerve in her body pulsed with hurt. Her tears ran freely until she noticed they were dripping onto the silk gown. Horrified, she removed the beautiful dress and hung it back in the closet before slipping into her brown frock.

  She stood in the middle of the room, holding the shoulder of the dress together. It was a mistake, he’d said. We will forget this afternoon ever happened.

  “Forget,” she murmured, tasting the salt of her tears. “How can I forget the way you touched me? The way you looked at me? How—”

  “Goldie?” Big called from the hallway. “I’ve got your clothes. May I come in?”

  She wiped her eyes on her dress sleeve. “Yes.”

  Big waddled in, her extra gown lying over his arm. He stopped when he saw her. “Your dress is torn.”

  She took her other one from him and slipped behind the big mirror to dress. “Big, we have to hurry up. We gotta make Saber into a duke as soon as we can. Before Uncle Asa does somethin’ awful. Before Dane Hutchins kicks us all out.” Before my heart gets shattered all to bits.

  When she stepped out from behind the mirror, Big saw how red her eyes were. He bent his head and stared at the floor. “You’re falling in love with him, aren’t you, Goldie Mae?”

  She made herself busy gathering all the diaries into the burlap sack in which she carried them. “He told me to meet him in the library. Said he was gonna read all the stuff about noblemen that Aunt Delia wrote down. With a little luck, we should be back in Hallensham in a little over a month. We’ll just have to rush the duke-spyin’ in London.”

  “And I have to admit he’s concerned about you,” Big muttered to himself. “He stopped me earlier, wanting to know about the things that make you sad.”

  “Big, you’re mumblin’. I can’t understand what—”

  “Could be that he cares,” Big continued incoherently. “Maybe the oaf isn’t an oaf after all.”

  Goldie threw him a baffled look, then slipped the last diary into the bag. “Well, I guess that’s all of ’em,” she said, slinging the sack over her shoulder. “If you need me, I’ll be in the library. We have to hurry, Big. I’m gettin’ more and more worried about what Uncle Asa’s doin’, and we don’t have time to dilly with this. I’ve decided we’ll leave for London tomorrow. We can keep on readin’ the diaries there. Lord, I hope I can talk Saber into spyin’ on dukes. I still haven’t told him about that part of the lessons, y’know.”

  “Stop right there,” he ordered her when she crossed to the door. “I mean it, Goldie.”

  She obeyed, but stomped her foot to show him she wasn’t pleased at being detained.

  “What’s going on between you and Saber?”

  “Nothin’. Everything’s fine.”

  “And you’re crying over how fine it all is.” He joined her at the door and took the sack of diaries from he
r. “You go feed Dammit, Smiley Jones, and Yardley. I’ll take the diaries to Saber.”

  “But—”

  “You’re in no shape to face him right now. Besides, he’ll be reading for quite a while, and probably won’t appreciate any interruptions. Go on now, Goldie.”

  She knew he wasn’t going to back down. Too, she realized he was right. She wasn’t ready to see Saber again right now. Nodding, she left to do his bidding.

  Big watched as she walked down the hall. After a while, he left her bedroom, heading for the library. His pace was slow, and he stopped many times to dwell on all the thoughts running through his mind.

  When he finally reached the library, he knew what he would do.

  * * *

  “I believe you wanted these brought to you?” Big laid the bag of diaries on Saber’s desk.

  Saber leaned forward in his chair. “I did. But I believe I asked Goldie to bring them.”

  “Well, as you can plainly see, she didn’t. I did.”

  Saber pulled the sack closer. “Thank you.” When Big made no move to leave, he asked, “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “As a matter of fact there is.”

  “Then please be seated.”

  Big climbed into a huge leather chair and tapped his fingers on the arm. “Answer some questions for me, Saber.”

  “If I can.”

  “What has Goldie told you about herself?”

  Saber studied Big carefully, searching for some sort of devious expression on the man’s face. But Big’s features registered nothing. “Goldie talks about many things, but rarely does she speak about herself. Surely you know that.”

  “Then she has revealed nothing at all to you.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then?”

  Saber rose, clasped his hands behind his back, and began a slow journey around the room. “What are your reasons for this inquiry, Big?” He stopped in front of a collection of miniature paintings, his back to Big.

  “I have an important decision to make, Saber, and what I decide depends on your answers. I’m trusting you to be honest with me.”