Diamonds and Dreams

by Rebecca Paisley

  Goldie stopped when she saw the man running toward her. Who was he? she wondered, her tired mind unable to function. He was calling her name, so he obviously knew her. Frowning, she watched him near her.

  He was tall, trim, and well-built. His face was clean shaven, and his clothes were neat and looked to be freshly laundered. Even his boots were spotless.

  “Goldie!” Asa shouted from the distance. “It’s me, darlin’! It’s your Uncle Asa! God Almighty, Goldie!”

  Her heart skipped several beats before seemingly dropping down to her toes. Disbelief enveloped her before tremendous joy chased it away. Before she’d even thought to do it, she was running to meet him. “Uncle Asa! Great day Miss Agnes, Uncle Asa!”

  He reached her, crushing her to him. Weeping unabashedly, he groaned her name over and over again. “I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “God Almighty, Goldie, I’m so sorry!”

  “Uncle Asa,” she sobbed into his chest, relishing his fresh, clean scent. “You aren’t drunk. You aren’t drunk. Oh, Uncle Asa, you aren’t—”

  “And I ain’t never gonna be again, darlin’,” he promised, sweeping her into his brawny arms. “We’re startin’ over, Goldie. You and me. And Big. We’ve got us a real home now. The duke’s back. He told all of us how you went and found him, Goldie. He—”

  “Back?” Goldie repeated, hot pain searing through her heart.

  Asa nodded and began the trek back to the village, Dammit and Itchie Bon following closely behind them. “Yeah, he’s here. I never knew too much about dukes, but I’m learnin’. See them little green flags flyin’ around the mansion? They mean the duke’s on his lands. Me? Well, I ain’t talked to the man very much because he don’t hardly ever leave his house. I ain’t seen him do much but stand out on that big ole balcony, lookin’ over his lands. He’s out there every day doin’ it. It’s almost as if he was huntin’ for somethin’. Big’s been up there near every day. I keep askin’ Big what all he talks about with such an important fella like the duke, but Big, he won’t tell me. It’s like they got some sorta secret, or somethin’.”

  Goldie heard nothing at all of what her uncle was saying to her. She could concentrate only on the fact that Marion Tremayne had returned to Ravenhurst. “Back,” she murmured on a raspy breath. “He’s here.”

  “Yeah, and y’wanna know what happened the very day he got here? He throwed that bitch, Dora Mashburn, right outta Hallensham! Told her that if he ever saw her anywhere near his lands again, he’d—”

  “Uncle Asa, we can’t stay here!” Goldie exclaimed, her body shaking uncontrollably. “We have to pack and—”

  “We’ll never move again, darlin’,” Asa assured her, thinking her trembling came from the dread of having to leave. “We got us a real home now. You’re a heroine to the villagers, Goldie. You got their duke to come home, and they ain’t talked of nothin’ but you since he got here. And now that I don’t drink no more and I got me a decent, honest job at the blacksmith’s, they’re warmin’ up to me, too.”

  Goldie scanned the village, then looked up the hill behind it. Up to the mansion. Ravenhurst. Saber was there. Her throat threatened to close. “Uncle Asa, listen to me. We can’t—”

  “And guess what else, darlin’? The duke’s got him a sweetheart, and he’s gonna make her his duchess! The day after he got here, he announced his engagement and promised to introduce her to us real soon. Nobody’s seen her yet, but everybody says she’s probably real delicate and that she’s restin’ up after her trip here from London. Ain’t that somethin’?”

  Foreboding clawed up Goldie’s spine. She couldn’t answer. She could only remember Jillian’s words. He loves me as he did Angelica, you see. He promised her to make Ravenhurst their home, and he has made the same oath to me.

  Marion Tremanye, the duke. Jillian, his future duchess. Here at Ravenhurst. Goldie realized then the extent of Saber’s love for Jillian. Only true love could have brought him back to the estate that had been the scene of so many tragedies.

  “Like I said,” Asa continued blithely, “I ain’t set eyes on the girl he’s gonna marry yet, but I reckon she must be purty as all get-out. ‘Course I ain’t never seen a real duchess before, but I got ’em figured out to be real—”

  “No!” Goldie screamed, consumed with panic. “I don’t want to live here, Uncle Asa! I want to move! Please—”

  “But Goldie, why?”

  She could find no words to explain her violent opposition to living in a place where every day she would be forced to see Jillian and Saber together. Where day in and day out she would witness their love and see its evidence in the children they would soon have. The thought was the most agonizing thing she could think of.

  Asa saw the blaze of anxiety in her eyes and felt true concern. “Goldie, why—”

  “Goldie!” several of the villagers chorused as they arrived in front of Asa.

  When Asa set her down, Goldie felt the urge to run. Abandoning herself to it, she turned and began to flee back toward the field, crying out in anger and frustration when a few of the village men caught her.

  They lifted her from the ground, holding her up for all to see. More people arrived, crowding around the men who carried her.

  A cacophony of “thank-you’s” hit Goldie’s ears. Everyone she saw was smiling at her, reaching out to touch her, and expressing their gratitude to her for convincing the duke to return. “Let me down!” she cried, misery surging through her. “Let me—”

  “He’s called fer us!” one man shouted, his shoulders heaving with exertion as he ran toward the crowd. “I’ve jest come from up there, I have, and His Grace has ordered us all ter gather in the courtyard!”

  “Oh, wot a day this is!” a woman exclaimed loudly, her hands on her plump cheeks. “This is it! Lord Tremayne is goin’ ter bring out his betrothed at long last! Hurry! Let us hurry!”

  Goldie began fighting in earnest. She twisted and squirmed so wildly, the men holding her were forced to set her down. When her feet touched the ground, she tried to escape again.

  But what seemed like millions of hands grabbed onto her, restraining her, pulling her along with the great crowd as it moved toward the manor house.

  “Come along, lass,” a man told her cheerfully.

  “No!” She tried in vain to get away.

  “A right modest little soul, she is!” someone called over the din. “Here she’s got His Lordship ter come back, and she wants no gratitude or recognition fer it!”

  The fifteen minutes it took to walk to the estate seemed like fifteen seconds to Goldie. Dragging her feet, she lost both her shoes, arriving in front of the magnificent mansion quite barefoot and completely exhausted from her struggles to escape the insistent villagers. If only she could find Uncle Asa or Big! she raged. Surely one of them would help her get away!

  She looked all over for them, soon spying Big on the veranda. “Big! Big!”

  He saw her and waved before running into the mansion.

  Goldie frowned. “Big, wait! Big—”

  “Lord Tremanye!” the people called in unison. “Lord Tremayne! Lord Tremanye! “

  Goldie’s heart quaked. She tried to melt into the screaming, jostling crowd, dreading Saber’s appearance with every fiber in her body. Rising apprehension lent her strength, and she began doing battle with her captors once again.

  But they held her steady and pulled her directly in front of the huge portico that opened into the courtyard. Unable to move, breathe, or think, she watched in alarm as the two great doors of the mansion slowly opened.

  “Let me go,” she begged, her voice no more than a slight whisper. “Please don’t make me see him.” Anguish pouring from her heart, tears steaming down her face, she turned her head and closed her eyes.

  “There he is!” the man next to her screamed. “Goldie,” he said to her, taking hold of her chin and turning her head, “look, lass! Thanks to you, there he is!”

  By their own accord, her eyes opened. She saw him. Saber. D
ressed in the most elegant clothes she’d ever seen him wear, he was standing at the top of the marble steps, his seaweed gaze sweeping over the mass of cheering villagers. Her banging heart stopped altogether at the sight of him.

  And then his gaze roamed no further, but settled intently on her. At his piercing stare, her knees buckled, and she sagged between the two men holding her.

  A thousand emotions swept through her when he began his descent on the marble steps. His stride was quick, purposeful; his eyes never left her. She tried to flee, but her muscles refused to work. She longed to scream, but her voice wouldn’t come. She could do nothing but stand there and watch helplessly as he neared her. What was he going to do? Why was he doing this to her? The questions reverberated through her mind.

  A hush came over the shouting villagers as he moved off the last step. Goldie could hear nothing at all but the deafening thunder of her heart. The crowd parted, making way for him when he began walking toward her.

  No, God, she prayed desperately. Don’t let this happen! Please don’t!

  Her prayer went unanswered. Saber stopped before her. Her head bowed, she saw the tips of his shiny shoes through the blur of her tears. The men who held her released her, and she stood there, trembling so hard she could see the skirt of her dress shake.

  Swallowing and trying to find a shred of courage to see her through her torturous situation, she raised her gaze. Slowly. Up it went, from his shoes to his legs. She swallowed again at the sight, remembering the muscles, the strength of those legs. She saw his slim hips, his flat belly, his broad chest. And then she looked at his face.

  The world and everything in it ceased to exist for her. She was aware of nothing but Saber’s eyes. Their glow. Their softness.

  Very slowly, Saber reached out his arm and picked up her quivering hand. He held it gently in his own for a moment that was an eternity to Goldie. Then, he turned, and increasing his pressure on her hand, he led her to the steps.

  In a mindless daze, she trailed behind him, vaguely aware that all eyes were upon her. She felt weightless, as though she were drifting through a cloud, through a dream.

  Only when she tripped on a step and stumbled did reality come back to her. Stung with humiliation, she braced herself for the fall.

  It never came. Instead, she felt herself being lifted into a familiar embrace. Into arms whose might she knew well. The scent of sandalwood drifted through her senses, making her dizzy with bittersweet feelings. Her head next to his chest, she heard the steady beat of a heart she’d once thought belonged to her. Weak with emotion, she couldn’t find the strength to protest when Saber carried her the rest of the way up the steps. She realized then that whatever plan he had for her, she would have to deal with it as best she could. There was simply no escaping.

  As if she were made of the most fragile crystal, Saber set her down on the spacious veranda, keeping his arm around her waist. She felt his hand, his long, strong fingers caress her there. When she swayed, that same warm hand steadied her.

  Unable to concentrate on any one thing, she looked down, surveying the dense gathering of people below. Her confusion intensified. Why had Saber brought her up here? Where was Jillian? Her mind filled with questions so numerous that she could not name them. They blended into one seething tangle of bewilderment.

  “Goldie.”

  His voice, so much like sweet, rich chocolate, stole her breath. What was he going to say? What was he going to do to her?

  “Poppet.”

  She couldn’t look at him. She was afraid. She couldn’t understand any of this.

  “Goldie, love.”

  She felt his hand beneath her chin, his fingers bringing her face upward to meet his. She blinked several times, totally captivated by the softness in his beautiful eyes.

  When he had her attention, Saber slipped his hand into the pocket of his waistcoat, bringing forth a small black velvet box. His eyes never leaving Goldie’s, he lifted the top of it, waiting in breathless anxiety for her reaction.

  Lowering her eyes, she looked at what he held out to her.

  Nestled within folds of dark green satin lay a gleaming gold ring. She thought the setting the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Yellow diamonds, some large, some tiny, were arranged in the shape of an exquisite flower. She knew in the heart of her heart that the blossom of diamonds was none other than a dandelion.

  “For so long,” Saber began softly, taking the ring from the box, “I wondered what the connection was between a diamond and a dandelion. The answer eluded me until you spoke of your dreams. Your diamond dreams. In one’s dreams anything can come true. And so, Goldie, it is with dreams that I join the diamond and the dandelion. Your dreams. My dreams. By accepting this ring, love, you will be uniting our dreams forever.”

  She looked up at him, refusing to believe she’d heard him right. “I—Saber...”

  The awe in her huge, golden eyes made him smile down at her. “I love you, poppet. I want you to be my duchess. Marry me, Goldie Mae.”

  He held the ring before her. She realized he was waiting for her to draw up her hand to receive it, but she couldn’t do it. Fear continued to stab through her. Surely this was going to end. It wasn’t true. She knew it wasn’t.

  Saber saw the hesitation, the disbelief in her eyes, and knew exactly what she was thinking. “Goldie,” he murmured, his voice as soft as the sweetly scented country breeze, “the dreams aren’t ending, poppet. They’re only beginning. Marry me. Say yes?”

  “Saber, I...”

  Her mind screamed for her to run. Shouted to her that it was all a prank, and that it would end in her complete and utter humiliation, just like always. Saber would bring Jillian out. They’d laugh at her. The villagers would join in on the merriment. It would be the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Run, Goldie! Run! her mind continued to scream.

  But her heart... From the deepest recesses of her heart whispered a voice so dear to her, it brought tears to her eyes when she heard it. Trust me, Goldie, he begged her. Trust me.

  The quiet whisper in her heart overcame the frenzied shouting in her mind, and in that instant her decision was made. Slowly, tremulously, she lifted her left hand. Time was suspended as she waited to see what Saber would do. Never in her life had she felt so totally vulnerable, so wide open for hurt.

  Warmth seeped through every part of her when Saber took her hand and clasped it in his own. “Saber,” she whispered, unable to say more.

  “Will you marry me, Goldie?”

  Still speechless with wonder, she could only nod.

  Saber slid the ring on her finger, his own fingers shaking as uncontrollable joy crashed through him. She was his.

  This wonderful poppet called Goldie was his, now and forevermore.

  “From this moment on,” he began, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to it, “I will give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

  Tears of the most profound happiness she’d ever known streamed down her face. Every hurt, every confusion, every heartache she’d ever had melted away. “Saber,” she squeaked, unable to decide what to look at—the wonderful, sparkling ring, or the beautiful glow in his eyes.

  Her tears, so like small diamonds, made Saber smile, for he knew they were not born of sorrow. “Look, Goldie,” he told her quietly, his voice trembling with emotion, “look at our home, and see the mere beginnings of all the dreams I will make come true for you.”

  She cast one last glance at the wondrous ring shimmering on her finger, then obeyed his tender command. Raising her head, she peered up at the mansion.

  What she saw sent a rush of pure astonishment coursing through her. From each open window of the house fluttered ruffled curtains of pink and white gingham. She couldn’t contain a squeal.

  Her squeal made Saber chuckle. His chuckle turned to full-fledged laughter when he noticed she had no shoes on. “My barefoot duchess,” he teased. “I take it your unquiet delight means you like the curtains? The vi
llage women have been sewing for days. The men, too, have been working. Do you see anything else, poppet?”

  She examined her surroundings more intently, her hands flying to her open mouth when she saw the white picket fence. It encircled the entire manor house. “My fence,” she murmured. “Oh, Saber, my—”

  A mewling sound interrupted her. Looking down, she saw a multitude of kittens, one trying to climb up her skirt. With another squeal, she bent and scooped the wiggling ball of gray fur up into her arms.

  Saber thought he would burst from the joy of seeing her so happy. “And inside the house there are—”

  “Pink sofas with little white arm pillows that have strawberries stitched on ’em, and a rockin’ chair with my name carved on it!” she finished for him.

  He nodded, laughing again. “But the parlor—Goldie, it’s completely empty. We even took down the wallpaper. It’s your tea parlor, poppet, and I want you to decorate it to your heart’s content. I’ll take you all over Europe so you can find just the right things to put in it. It’ll be a thousand times better than Imogene Tully’s. And your kittens can sleep all over the furniture, and we won’t ever get mad at them,” he added. “And we’ll plant magnolias, Goldie. We’ll plant hundreds of them, and no one will ever cut them down. And look there, poppet. What do you see?”

  She looked in the direction in which he was pointing and saw an array of gilded cages, each one holding a brilliantly colored bird. More tears trickled down her cheeks as she recognized the significance of his gifts to her.

  “No one will ever let your birds go, Goldie,” Saber promised. “They’re yours. I’ve even figured out how to keep the cats away from them. We’ll convert one of the rooms into a bird room, and we’ll keep it locked all the time. This is your home, Goldie. And no one will ever have the right to tell you to leave it.”

  “Saber, I—”

  “And as for the other dream you told me about...” he continued, deliberately letting his voice trail away as he smiled rakishly at her. “Remember those twelve children you always wanted? Well, I must admit that that dream is one I’d like to start making come true right now.”