Diamonds and Dreams Read online

  She smiled at the look of dismay in Big’s eyes and turned to walk back out into the yard again, her hands clasped behind her back. When she’d traveled a few yards, she spun around quickly. “But lo and behold, Big, Aunt Della’s diaries say the duke’s eyes are green! They’re probably a throwback or somethin’ to one of his kin. That or his mama was messin’ around with some green-eyed milkman. Mildred Fickle says rich people always have lovers. That must be another one of those English customs. And I think Duke Marion’s real strong too, Big, because his daddy was all muscle if that paintin’ was tellin’ the truth. Muscles are inherited, aren’t they?”

  Big stared into her tawny eyes and shook his head in exasperation. “And what are you going to do about fancy clothes, a carriage, and horses? You can’t dress your duke in tattered clothing, and you can’t have him saunter into the village with dust all over his boots. He has to dress—”

  “I’m gonna borrow some clothes that are already up there in his duke house. I found some in a closet in one of those upstairs bedrooms. It was a real dusty bedroom, so I’m sure the clothes have been there a long time, and they don’t belong to Mr. Hutchins.”

  “If they’ve been there that long, they’ll be outdated,” Big pointed out.

  She stared at him for a long time. “Why do you have to make so many problems, Big?”

  “Me?” he asked in utter disbelief.

  She continued to stare at him, her mind at work on the point he’d brought up. “Hell, Big, beautiful clothes never get outdated,” she decided out loud. “They stay in fashion forever. Everybody knows that. And great day Miss Agnes, you’ve never seen the kind of clothes up there in that house! I was so excited I almost set ’em on fire when I dropped my candle! Satins and silks, and some even had gold buttons! Fancier’n anything I ever saw Amos Hicks back in Shakin’ Pines, Georgia, wear. He—”

  “Goldie, you are off of the subject again. I asked you not to interrupt yourself anymore.”

  “Oh, all right, ill-box.”

  “And don’t call me that. I’m not crabby, only impatient.”

  She walked back to him, dragging the toes of her shoes in the dirt behind her. When she reached him, she looked over her shoulder at the lines her dragging feet had made. “As far as gettin’ a carriage and horses for the duke...I’m not that far in my plans yet.”

  “What?” Big asked, pretending astonishment. “You mean there are actually some holes in this grand scheme of yours?”

  “Not many, and I’ll fill ’em in later.”

  Big fashioned a steeple with his fingers and laid his chin upon it. “Hole number two, Goldie: how are you going to get this poor common man you find to agree to these wild plans?”

  She patted his shiny bald head. “I’ve got about five pounds of money. Uncle Asa bought some stuff the other day, and he told me that people here pay for things in pounds. I reckon they have to weigh the money before they can pay for stuff with it. I don’t know how in the world these English folks manage to carry more than, say...ten or twelve pounds around with ’em. Wonder what they do when somethin’ costs over a hundred pounds? Y’know, Big, now that I think of it, that might be why the duke’s daddy had so many muscles. A person would have to be strong to tote around so many pounds of money. Anyway, I have a whole pile of silver coins that I figure weighs about five pounds, and I’ll offer my duke three pounds of ’em for doin’ the job. I’ve been savin’ all these years, and Uncle Asa doesn’t know. Don’t tell him.”

  Nothing Big could think of would induce him to tell Asa Mae about her savings. The bastard would steal it from her and spend it all on drink. “All right, Goldie, let’s pretend your plan is foolproof. Just where do you propose to find your Marion W. S. Tremayne?”

  “Well, at dawn tomorrow—”

  “Tomorrow? You just told Hutchins it would be two weeks before—”

  “I lied because he yelled at me.” She tilted her chin up and folded her arms across her breasts. “Y’know how I hate it when folks yell at me, Big. He deserved to be lied to. We’re leavin’ tomorrow mornin’. We’ll just keep on travelin’ till—”

  “We?” Big scrambled up from his seat so quickly he lost his footing and tumbled to the ground. “Goldie—”

  “Big, why’d you fling yourself into the dirt?”

  Big stood and slapped soil off his knees and elbows. “I always pitch myself down when I’m happy! And your scheme has made me just delirious with joy!”

  “Oh, Big.” Goldie smiled and shook her head over his sass. “You have to go with me, y’know. What if someone tries to get me while I’m on the road? They have lots of highwaymen here in England. Mildred Fickle told me all about ’em. Would you be able to sleep at night knowin’ I was out there at the mercy of those dreaded English highwaymen? They wear these black capes and boots, ride black horses, and they carry these long, vicious swords! What if one gets me? What if—”

  “All right, all right! But—’”

  “We’ll have a weapon too, Big. Diaries aren’t the only things Aunt Delia kept. She’s got her own sword in there, and I mean to tell you it’s the biggest thing you ever saw. She wrote that it’s a Scottish claymore. Belonged to somebody in her family. The thing’s so big, I can’t hardly lift it. But see, the size alone will scare any dreaded English highwaymen who try to get us. I’ll just sorta let it hang off Dammit’s saddle in a warnin’ kinda way.”

  “Thank you, Goldie. I can’t think of the last time I felt so safe.” Big shook his head again.

  She nodded and tapped her chin with her finger. “I’ll leave a note to Uncle Asa tellin’ him that we went to get ole Marion. It’s better that he doesn’t know about my real plans because of the kind of mouth he has when he’s drinkin’. I’ve gotta find the man somewhere faraway, y’see. I can’t take the chance of pickin’ some commoner that one of the villagers knows. When I find him, I reckon I’ll need about two months or so to teach him duke stuff. Then I’ll—”

  “Which brings me to another question. How can you give him duke lessons when you know nothing about the English aristocracy?” Big sat back down and drummed his fingers on his knee.

  “Big, you do love to ask picky questions, don’t you?” Goldie sighed, then continued before he could reply. “Mildred Fickle knew, and so did Aunt Delia. There are all sorts of noble-folk descriptions in her diaries. See, other dukish people used to come visit the Tremaynes. Aunt Delia wrote all about ’em. ‘Course, a lot of what she wrote is messed up by those water stains I told you about, but I can guess at what I can’t read. Y’know what a good guesser I am, Big. And Mildred Fickle said noble people sniff each bite of food before they eat it. She said that custom probably came from back when noble people were always gettin’ poisoned by their enemies. Smellin’ his food will be the first thing I teach my duke. Yeah, food-sniffin’ is high on the list for duke requirements. And ‘course we’ll get glimpses of real dukes when we get to London.”

  “London!” Big bolted to his feet again.

  “Well, of course London!” She turned toward the fields and held her arms open wide as if embracing the distant city. “Big, we have lots of duke research to do! What better place to do it? All those bluebloods congregate there, and—Do you think their blood is really blue?”

  Big was so exasperated he couldn’t answer.

  Goldie hugged herself, supremely proud of her grand plan. “After we’ve learned all we can from our duke-spyin’ in London, we’ll come back here. By that time I hope I’ll have figured out what to do about a fancy carriage and horses to pull it. We’ll—”

  “Goldie!” Asa shouted from inside the cottage. “Where the hell are you, you worthless, good-for-nothin’ twit! I want my damn dinner, and I don’t see a blasted thing in here cookin’! Goldie!”

  Big’s heart lurched when he saw the pink in her cheeks pale. “Goldie, don’t you listen to him. You—”

  “It’s all right, Big,” she squeaked, turning away so he wouldn’t see her tears. “I gotta go.
He’s probably got him one of his day-after headaches, and y’know how frenzied he gets when he’s feelin’ low and hungry at the same time.” She hurried to the door, but turned back to Big before she opened it.

  “Big,” she began, chewing her bottom lip. “I’ve got to find my common man just as fast as I can. There’s just no tellin’ what kinda trouble Uncle Asa’ll get into while I’m gone. I’ll have to get back to Hallensham as soon as I’ve got Duke Marion. Big...I could really use your help, but you never did say if you’d give it to me or not. I’m gonna go through with the plan no matter if you go with me or not, but—Big, will you help me?”

  He gazed into Goldie’s huge, amber eyes and saw her hope. “We’ll find your Duke Ravenhurst, Goldie. If we have to scour all of England, we’ll find him that damn blueblood.”

  She let go of the doorknob and gave him an impulsive hug.

  “Now, now,” Big said, embarrassed, “go get Asa’s dinner or there’ll be hell to pay.”

  She smiled and turned back to the door. “Oh, by the way, the new word for the day is risible. It means ‘capable of laughing.’ So if someone has a sense of humor, I reckon you could say he’s risible.” With that, she disappeared into the cottage.

  Big sighed. Goldie loved learning new words, and found a new one every day in her precious dictionary. She made Big learn them too. It was rare when either one of them remembered to use the words, but that never deterred Goldie. “Risible,” he muttered down to Runt, who was nipping his pant leg. “I wish I were more risible. It would make these wild plans she’s dreamed up a whole lot easier to take.”

  He looked out at the countryside and thought about all she’d told him. “Duke lessons, Runt. Food-sniffing of all things! Lord have mercy, I don’t know who to feel sorrier for—Goldie or her duke.”

  Chapter Two

  Saber cringed. The loud, grating noise of the curtains being jerked across their brass rods sounded like great shards of shattering glass crunching into his eardrums. Sharp swords of bright sunlight stabbed through his eyelids, blinding him. His head felt like a ripe melon that had just been smashed, and the more he concentrated on that thought, the more vivid it became in his mind.

  “The weather’s set fair, Saber. Perfect for traveling.”

  Saber didn’t have to open his eyes or even recognize the voice to know who was speaking to him. Only Addison Gage would dare disturb him in such a rude fashion. “Addison, get out,” he ordered, his voice muffled in his satin pillow.

  Addison grinned and released the dark blue velvet drapes. He picked up a porcelain pitcher and sauntered to the thickly carpeted dais upon which Saber’s bed stood. Reaching for a corner of the downy blue coverlet, he yanked it off. “I say!” he exclaimed, chuckling. “Look at that! Lord Marion Westbrook Saberfield Tremayne, the wealthiest, most powerful, most envied, most sought-after bachelor in all of England. There he lies in all his naked, noble, and painful splendor. Could it be that you had a night that wasn’t at all the thing?”

  “Get out,” Saber repeated, searching without success for his covers.

  Smiling, Addison raised the pitcher of cold water. With one swift motion he emptied it upon Saber’s bare flesh.

  “What the—” Saber bolted out of the bed, water streaming from his hair and into his eyes. He shuddered both with anger and cold. “Addison, I swear—”

  “It’s one o’clock, Saber, and you’re yet lying in. You’re supposed to be dressed and prepared to depart. The boys will be here straightaway, and I fear they will not show the same benevolence I have. They’ll drag you naked and screaming into the coach. Unless you’ve the irresistible desire for all of London to witness such a spectacle, I’d suggest you show a leg and put yourself right.”

  Saber struggled to understand what his friend was talking about, but the only thing he could comprehend was that every nerve in his body was throbbing with a dull and constant pain only more sleep could alleviate. “Addison, you are a thundering nuisance. If this is your idea of a lark, I must warn you it is most assuredly not mine. I’ll give you five seconds to remove your obnoxious person from my room. Go a second over that time, and I’ll—”

  “Tsk, tsk. My, how you do take on. You’ve obviously forgotten that you are under my command now. Mine and the boys’. Beginning at noon today—which was an hour ago—you are to be our slave for two weeks. We’ll be spending those fourteen delightful days at Leighwood. And that, Saber, my friend, is the top and bottom of it.”

  Saber yanked his robe on and frowned. Leighwood was one of his four country estates, the others being Ravenhurst, Wellsbourne, and Mellenshire. Two weeks at Leighwood with Addison, Winston, Kenneth, and David, the rowdiest bunch of noble jokers in all of England? He couldn’t think of a more irritating way to spend a fortnight.

  Massaging his temples, he sat on the bed, the slight bend of the mattress reminding him of a vessel on a storm-tossed sea. He wished he could bury himself in the sheets again, but was now wide awake, his mind already working on what he had planned for the day. “Addison, I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve no intention of going to Leighwood, and as far as my being your slave... I cannot remember the last time I heard anything as ludicrous. Aside from that, I cannot leave London now. I’ve a meeting with several people concerning an investment in—”

  “I’m afraid you’ll be forced to give it a miss, old boy,” Addison said, patting his blond hair. “Really, Saber, you’ve got so much money now that you couldn’t spend it all in three lifetimes. But if it’s an even grander fortune you want, why not let others earn it for you? Making it yourself is rather like keeping a dog and barking yourself, is it not? And it’s so unseemly for a gentleman of your status to work.”

  Saber narrowed his eyes. “I know of no one in this entire country who would so much as whisper an insult concerning anything I choose to do. No one, Addison, except you. And I don’t make my investments to earn money. I do it to keep boredom at bay, and I don’t consider it work. Unlike you, I find little diversion in attending endless and monotonous Society assemblies.”

  “Saber, my friend, you’ve forgotten what real diversion is. You’ve been hiding behind that stuffy facade of yours for five years. Hence, it’s been five years since I’ve heard you laugh, five years since—”

  “Get out.”

  “I see I must refresh your memory about who is giving the orders now.” Addison swiped at a speck of dust on his coat sleeve and proceeded to a small table, upon which two cups sat, one filled with his tea, the other containing black coffee for Saber. After taking a sip of tea, he set the cup down, brushed at his sleeve again, and burst into loud laughter. “God, this is rich! You, the Duke of Ravenhurst, slave for two weeks!”

  “Addison—”

  “Last night at Winston’s—You do remember supping there with us, do you not?”

  Saber snatched his sheet from the floor and dried his face with it. He strode to a huge, gilt-framed mirror and grimaced at his reflection. Black strings of his hair were plastered to his forehead and cheeks. His green eyes were bloodshot. He closed them against the sting for a moment, then turned and faced Addison again. “I remember arriving and eating. Judging by that telltale twinkle in your eyes, I imagine much more went on as the evening progressed, but I cannot fathom the final outcome.”

  “We were all in our cups, Saber. You were deeper in yours than the rest of us. You were fairly drowning in it, actually. And since you rarely indulge, it didn’t take much to get you completely sodden. You cannot imagine the good it did me to see you in such a state. It was positively topping to see you without your starched shirt on.”

  “Why do I have the feeling that it did me no good at all?”

  “Well, you were itching for a bet and said you didn’t care what it entailed. Good friends that we are, we thought one up and bet you couldn’t make Winston’s Uncle Horatio laugh. You accepted the challenge and—”

  “I bet no such thing. There’s no one in the entire world who can make
that cantankerous man smile, much less laugh. I did not bet—”

  “Ah, but you did. You said you’d make him laugh. The wager was that if you did, the boys and I would be your willing slaves at Leighwood for two weeks. If you lost, you’d be the slave. You were deliriously excited about the prospect at having the four of us at your beck and call, but to be perfectly honest, Saber, we knew you’d lose. It was almost four o’clock in the morning when you stumbled up the stairs and staggered into Lord Alders’ bedroom. Once you were hovering over his bed your candle wavered, and you dropped hot wax on his very tender...very bare backside. He sleeps in the buff. A fact you revealed to us all last night.”

  Saber’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Addison, tell me you’re making this up, and that it’s only another one of your annoying pranks.”

  It was a moment before Addison could stop laughing. “It’s the t-t-truth!” he sputtered merrily. “And while Lord Alders was busy peeling the wax off himself, you stood there and told him stupid jokes. He was, needless to say, far from amused. And people who are not amused do not laugh. You therefore lost the bet quite completely. Now get ready, slave. We’re off to Leighwood. You obviously like working, so it is work you will do. As much as we can possibly wrench out of you.”

  Saber closed his eyes again, willing memories of the previous night to come to him. None did. “Were there any witnesses to this outrageous bet?”

  “Is Lord Alders himself good enough for you? If not, Lady Alders was there too. You woke up the entire household as a matter of fact.”

  “God,” Saber groaned. He picked up his coffee, didn’t notice the steam rising from the dark brew, and promptly burned his mouth. Deeply aggravated, he stared at Addison, who was in the throes of more hysterical laughter. “You and the boys planned this, didn’t you? The four of you are forever badgering me to go to the countryside with you, and now you’ve finally—”