When You Give a Duke a Diamond Read online

  “Thirty-four years, madam.”

  “In those thirty-four years, have you ever known him to be late?”

  The housekeeper narrowed her eyes. “Once or twice.”

  Juliette played a scale. “That’s a remarkable feat. Only once or twice to your knowledge, and never to mine, though I confess I have known him only briefly. And yet”—she played a bit of Bach’s Celli Suite Solo Piano Music, which always sounded mournful to her—“he is late to breakfast this morning. Is it safe to assume that was why you peeked in on me?”

  “Yes, madam.” The housekeeper’s hands wrung her apron. “I was concerned. The duke is not in residence, and no one seems to know where he has gone or when he will be back. I cannot believe he would be late. He did say ten.”

  Juliette gazed at the keys, though she didn’t need to look at them to play this piece, and smiled. Finally Pelham was breaking free of his father’s tyranny. She understood how he felt—scared and elated. She’d felt that way when she’d escaped Oliver.

  “I’m certain he is fine,” Juliette told the housekeeper. The poor woman looked overwrought.

  “But he is never late. The last time he was late—”

  The housekeeper paused, and Juliette’s fingers stilled. The expression on Mrs. Waite’s face was an equal mixture of horror and concern.

  “What happened the last time he was late?” Juliette rose. “Was that when the last duke killed Will’s dog?”

  “He told you about that?” Mrs. Waite looked surprised.

  “His father sounds like a monster, and I suppose His Grace and I have that in common. I was married to a monster.”

  The housekeeper nodded then glanced at the music door again. “That was not the last time His Grace was late.” Her voice was a mere whisper. “He was late again a few years later. I think he was eight or nine. It wasn’t his fault.” She glanced at the music door again. She was speaking so softly Juliette wanted to move nearer, but she dared not do anything that would cause the housekeeper to pause.

  “His Grace—he was Master William then—was taking his daily ride. His father insisted upon it. The Dukes of Pelham have always been known for their excellent horsemanship. The horse went lame, and Master William had to walk him back to the house. To do otherwise might have crippled the animal.”

  “And so he was late.”

  Mrs. Waite nodded.

  “And what did the duke do?”

  “Beat him,” Mrs. Waite whispered. “Beat him so badly Master William was in bed for a week. And his hearing never returned.”

  Now Juliette did move around the pianoforte, for Mrs. Waite was speaking very softly. “His hearing? But he seems to hear perfectly well.”

  “Yes, in his right ear. He’s deaf in his left.”

  Juliette stared at her. “His father did that to him?”

  The housekeeper nodded.

  “And what did his mother do?”

  “She never left his bedside, but if you mean did she reprimand the duke, the answer is no. I was employed a year after they married, so I do not know what their first year together was like, but if you want my opinion, the duchess was terrified of her husband.”

  Juliette leaned back against the pianoforte and sighed. She glanced about the airy music room with its wispy draperies and its curling music stands. Such a beautiful home to house so many ugly secrets.

  “Why is no one eating breakfast?” Will’s voice boomed through the rooms to the music room, and both Juliette and Mrs. Waite jumped to attention. The housekeeper looked as though she were about to run and apologize to the duke, but Juliette put her hand on the woman’s arm and shook her head.

  Juliette’s heart was heavy. She wanted to go to Will, take him in her arms, and kiss away all the pain he’d suffered. She wanted the love she felt for him—the love she kept hoping would go away—to heal all his wounds. But she knew Will would take these gestures as pity. So instead, she put on a frivolous expression and tripped lightly out of the music room. Juliette caught sight of Will outside the breakfast room. “There you are!” she said.

  He cocked his head. Had he always done so? Was it because he could not hear her?

  “Here I am?”

  “Oh, I’ve already been to breakfast, but when I saw I would dine alone, I decided to explore instead.” She took his arm. He’d offered her his right, and the gesture seemed natural. But what if she had taken his left? How would he have compensated? “You, sir, are late. And might I add that it’s about time?”

  He frowned. “I don’t follow. And I’m not a sir—”

  “I mean that it is about time you were late to something. You’re far too punctual for my taste.”

  He led her into the breakfast room and pulled out her chair for her. “I do my best to please.”

  “I like that in a man.” She lifted her tea and sipped. It was almost cold, but she barely noticed. What she had noticed was that Will had not apologized. Any other man would have apologized for keeping a lady waiting, even if that lady gave him every forgiveness and sign of understanding.

  But then she was not a lady in Will’s eyes.

  Now that Will was here, Juliette asked for a cup of chocolate then fetched a scone as well as clotted cream from the sideboard. She believed if one was going to sin, one should do so completely. She took a bite then looked down the short table at Will. He was having tea and toast. “And might one inquire as to why you were late?”

  He glanced up at her, and something flickered in his eyes. Something akin to guilt. She narrowed her eyes and set down her fork. “Will?”

  “I had business,” he said, looking down at his paper.

  “You were supposed to have been in London. The only business you have in Yorkshire at present is the diamonds.”

  He ate a bite of toast. “Precisely.”

  She glared at him from across the table. “You were investigating the diamonds without me?”

  “I thought it best.”

  “For whom? I’m in just as much, if not more, danger from Lucifer as you. How could you leave me behind?”

  He tugged at his cravat and flicked his paper. Juliette decided he looked particularly uncomfortable, which was unusual for him. “It was best for everyone involved. I visited the Nowlund estate, and I thought it rather gauche to bring you.”

  She opened her mouth then closed it again. “I see. And did you discover anything?”

  “Obviously the marquess is not in residence at present, and their steward was not amenable to allowing me access to the house without asking Lord Nowlund’s permission first. He sent a message. Now I wait.”

  “Now we wait. I won’t be left out of this search.”

  He frowned at her. “I’m perfectly capable of conducting this investigation on my own. And I knew Lady Elizabeth. I might be able to deduce where she hid the diamonds, if indeed she hid them at Nowlund Park.”

  “And I have met Lucifer and had him question me extensively about the diamonds. I have a better idea what we are looking for.”

  “What we are—I assumed—”

  Juliette shook her head and glanced at the footmen. She dared not say any more in front of them. “So we are in the country,” she said to cover their sudden silence.

  Will nodded. “It would appear so.”

  “What is there to do in the country besides take walks? I was never a great walker.”

  “Ah…” Will raised his brows as though never before considering what one might actually do if one was at one’s leisure. “I suppose you could ride.”

  “Excellent idea.” Juliette stood. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  Juliette marched to his end of the table and took his arm. “We’d better not dally. It looks as though it might rain. Or is it always so cloudy a
nd overcast in Yorkshire?”

  Will looked as though he would protest further, but finally he sighed. “Very well. I’ll have the grooms saddle two horses.”

  “Oh, good. I shall change into my riding habit.” She pulled away from him, toward the room she’d been given. “And Will?”

  He glanced back at her, wariness in his eyes. Juliette almost laughed. The man was obviously not used to having his days taken up with entertaining. Good. The more she could move him out of his routine, the better. He needed to have fun.

  “Don’t give me some old, plodding mare. I want to ride fast.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Juliette couldn’t stop a tinkle of laughter from escaping her lips.

  ***

  Pelham watched the sway of her hips as she made her way up the stairs to her chambers. He hadn’t sought her out last night, and perhaps he should have. He found himself wanting her again. In fact, his body had made it difficult for him to think of anything besides wrapping his arms around her soft curves, stripping off her clothing, and burying himself inside her.

  He was definitely bewitched by her.

  But that did not mean he had lost control of his senses—well, not all of them anyway, he thought as he turned toward the door to the stables. He would have been insensitive indeed to take her to Nowlund Park. He didn’t much care what the servants thought, but his neighbors would talk. And he did have respect for Lord and Lady Nowlund. More respect than to bring his… He didn’t want to call Juliette his mistress, but he wasn’t precisely certain what she was.

  In any case, he hadn’t thought it prudent to bring her along. Besides, she should rest and recuperate. There was no need for her to involve herself further with these diamonds.

  Of course, he hadn’t considered he might be part of her recuperation. He had thought to take care of business—there was always business—while she rested. But now it appeared he would have to ride with her.

  Ride fast.

  He chuckled as he waved at the groom. The man gave him a surprised look. Probably had never seen him laugh before. But he was laughing thinking of Juliette’s horse cantering. That would be fast enough to please her.

  Once again he was wrong. It was annoying how often he was wrong about Juliette. He would have preferred she canter, because the breakneck pace she set frankly frightened him. The surrounding landscape was flat and covered with grasses and sheep. The sheep trotted out of their way with bleats of protest. And they scared a few red grouse from their hiding places. Pelham rode a faster horse, and Juliette still managed almost to beat him to the old crofter’s cottage, a landmark she’d spied after she’d kicked her horse into full gallop.

  She’d only almost beaten him because he hadn’t wanted to encourage her to ride so fast. He didn’t want to see her injured. But when it looked as though she would win, he urged his own horse on and won, pulling his mount up short and giving a quick wave to the family who came out to see what all the commotion was about.

  Juliette charged up behind him. Her hair had come loose of its pins and whipped about her pink face. “I demand a rematch!” she yelled over the wind. “We race back to the house, and I’ll beat you this time.”

  In the distance, thunder boomed. It had been drizzling for the last quarter hour, but now the rain started in earnest.

  “Your Grace!” the crofter yelled over the thunder. “You and your new duchess are welcome to shelter with us.”

  Pelham blinked. Duchess? They thought Juliette was his duchess? He looked at her. She sat a horse well, and her riding habit was stylish and complimented her figure. But her hair, her eyes—they were wanton. No duchess—no real duchess—would ever look so… so tempting.

  She was looking back at him, amusement in her eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of riding in the rain,” she told him.

  “Oh, no, Your Grace!” the crofter’s wife said. “You’ll catch your death of cold. We don’t have much, but we have a warm fire and tea.”

  Pelham wanted to ride back. He never knew what to say to his tenants. Never felt at ease with them. But Juliette was already accepting the crofter’s hand. She dismounted and swept one of the small children running about into her arms.

  “Your Grace, would you allow me to rub the horses down?” the crofter asked.

  Pelham tore his eyes from Juliette. “No.”

  The man took a step back.

  “What I mean is we are partaking of your hospitality. Go inside and warm yourself. I’ll see to the animals.”

  When he’d walked and rubbed the horses down, then situated them in a covered area next to the house, he knocked on the crofter’s door. No one answered, and so he opened the door.

  The family of five was seated around the fire, cups of tea in hand. Juliette had her back to him, but from the rapt gazes of the others in the room, she was telling a vastly entertaining story. Devil take it. What kind of stories would a celebrated courtesan have to tell to a crofter’s family?

  But as he started forward, the entire group burst into laughter. He paused, closed the door, and heard Juliette speaking.

  “I hid the piglet in the barn’s loft and told my father he’d escaped. Unfortunately, this conversation took place in the barn.”

  Pelham moved into the room. Her voice sounded different. Not quite so cultured. Not quite so formal. And she had one of the mop-haired children on her lap. And the child appeared to want to sit there. “What happened then?” the little girl on her lap asked. Pelham assumed it was a girl, because she was wearing a dress of some sort. The child couldn’t have been more than three—though he was no judge of children.

  “What do you think happened?” Juliette asked, rocking the child back and forth on her knees. “I bet you can guess.”

  “Pig Pig went wheee.”

  Pelham raised his brows. It was a good imitation of a pig’s squeal.

  “That’s right!” Juliette bounced the girl up and down. “Just as I had convinced my father Pig Pig had escaped, she said wheee and oink oink!” Juliette tickled the little girl, who squealed herself. “And I was found out.”

  “Did you get in trouble?” one of the boys asked. He was older and taller but had the same mop of brown hair as the little girl.

  “Yes. I had to go to bed without dinner for lying.” Juliette’s face was serious.

  “And was Pig Pig sold to the butcher to make ham?” the little girl asked.

  “That’s the good part of the story.”

  Pelham rather thought hearing Juliette make pig noises was his favorite part.

  “The next day when I woke up, Pig Pig was in her stall with a red ribbon around her neck. My father said I could keep her as a pet.”

  “And do you still have her?” the little girl asked, clearly excited at the prospect of seeing this Pig Pig.

  Juliette shook her head. “No, she grew up and had her own family. Just like you will one day.”

  “And you married His Great.” The little girl pointed at him, and Pelham couldn’t help but smile.

  “His Grace,” her mother corrected gently.

  “Oh, but he is very great,” Juliette said, her gaze on him. Suddenly he felt warm, despite being wet through and through.

  “Maybe one day I’ll marry His Great.”

  “Oh, don’t be putting those notions in your wee head,” her father said.

  “Oh, but why not, John?” the crofter’s wife interjected. “If Her Grace, a farmer’s daughter, can marry a duke, why, anyone can.”

  Juliette’s eyes slid to the floor, and she gave the family a shaky smile. Pelham cleared his throat. “It looks as though the rain has slowed. We had better get back while we have a chance.”

  “Of course.” Juliette gave the girl one more bounce then set her on her feet. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” She shoo
k all of their hands and gave the children quick kisses on the forehead.

  Pelham nodded gruffly, feeling like a foreigner witnessing some exotic ritual. What did he know of bouncing children on his lap or sitting by a fire surrounded by family? His childhood had been made up of governesses and tutors, regiment and routine.

  When they had mounted again and were riding back, more slowly this time, as the ground was muddy and the rocks slippery with moisture, Pelham said, “I didn’t know you had grown up on a farm.”

  “It’s not something one wants advertised when one is the Duchess of Dalliance,” she answered.

  “No, I suppose not.” The sky was a perfect blue now, and the sun had come out, warming the land. “Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if you had married a good man? Would you still live on a farm and have three of your own small ones?”

  She gazed at him, her blue eyes clear as the sky ahead of them. “No. You can’t go back, Will. I made my choices, and I don’t regret them. I loved being a courtesan. It was fun, much more fun than living on a farm. You can’t allow your past to dictate your future. You can make your own future.”

  He was silent for a long time. He could see how she had made her own future, and from difficult circumstances. Could he do the same? Could he step out of his father’s shadow and live life without regret?

  When they were in view of Rothingham Manor, he said, “And what will you do when”—he gestured to the house—“this is over?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I can go back to being a courtesan. I’m not sure I want to. I was tiring of it even before you cut me at Carlton House.”

  Pelham pulled his horse to a stop. “Really?”

  She nodded. “I want a home and a family. I love balls and dancing and fun, but even London becomes tedious after a time. And besides, beauty, fashion, celebrity—those things are fleeting. I want something real. I want something forever.” She looked away from him. “I want someone who loves the farmer’s daughter and the Duchess of Dalliance and everyone I’ve been in between. And I want someone I can love, as well.”