Frowning, Charlotte followed Kate up the stairs.
It was only five minutes later when Devin greeted Tristan in the drawing room and offered him a drink. “I trust nothing tragic happened to you since you are thirty minutes late.”
“Nothing important,” Tristan said as he accepted the claret from Devin and took a seat.
Tristan could never mention that he had been at Whitehall, informing his superiors that Lord Douberry could have ties to the diamond since the man had a connection to Fletcher.
“And how is Kate enjoying the Season?” Tristan asked.
Devin’s hand on his glass tightened. “Kate?” he asked, his smile fading.
Devil take it. Tristan had been thinking too much about that blasted gem and not enough about formalities. To call Devin’s cousin by her first name was too intimate by far.
“And pray tell, what gives you the right to call my cousin, Kate?"
Amused, Tristan realized Devin was jealous. Perhaps it was time to be honest with his friend. “Since I met her. And I don’t mean ten years ago.”
“At the lake?" Devin asked with a scowl.
Tristan took a sip of wine. “No, at the inn.”
Devin’s face turned purple as he rose from his seat and clanked his glass on the rosewood end table beside him. “Exactly what are you saying?”
“Oh, devil take it.” Tristan set his drink down and unfolded himself slowly from his seat. “It’s not what you think. Calm yourself.”
“Calm myself?” Before another word was said, Devin raised his fist, slamming it straight into the Tristan’s jaw.
Tristan staggered back, falling over his chair. He sat up, rubbing his chin, more surprised than shocked. “Quite gallant of you, Dev, but I assure you, if you continue on with this charade, my patience will run thin.”
“Your patience? I believe you have the matter reversed.”
Standing, Tristan massaged the side of his face. He understood his friend’s feelings for Kate, but things had gone far enough. “Let me explain.”
“You have fifteen seconds,” Devin said coolly, his stance ready for battle.
Tristan wasn’t about to argue. If Devin wanted a fight, there was nothing he could do to change his mind, explanation or not. But he did owe his friend the truth. “Do you recall my story about the chit who appeared almost a month ago at the inn?”
Devin folded his arms tightly across his chest and nodded.
Tristan would have smiled if the subject weren’t so personal, and if he weren’t fighting his best friend over a woman. “Well, that same female I told you about was your cousin, Kate.” He threw his arms up in protest as Devin stiffened. “I had no idea who she was at the time. Nothing happened. I give you my word.”
Devin seemed to relax as he seated himself in the wing chair. “All right. Go on.”
Tristan pulled up the fallen chair and sat down. “She stopped at the inn when her carriage broke down in the storm. And need I say, she looked like a sick chicken when I first saw her. I gave her a ride into the village, believing she either had relatives there or was looking for a position. In fact, I actually thought she was related to the vicar."
“The vicar?” The corners of Devin’s lips twitched. “It seems I have to believe you or call you out. And I do have to say that when I first saw Katherine, I thought she looked like a sick chicken, too.”
Tristan laughed. “You have a hard right, my friend, but I would rather not be the recipient of it next time you swing. Perhaps you could try your luck at Jackson’s Rooms next week.”
Devin’s mood quickly changed as he glared at his friend. “As far as I’m concerned, this doesn’t change things between us. I warned you I would not flip a coin for Katherine. You can have your choice of the ladies of the ton, including Lady Helen.”
Tristan snorted. “Is Kate your fiancée?”
“She’s Miss Katherine Wilcox to you. And no, she is not.”
“Then she is fair game. Although she is your cousin, by marriage and not by blood, you have not properly claimed her.”
“But you have no marriage plans as I do,” Devin protested, his eyes hardening.
Tristan flashed him a devilish grin. “And you know my mind?”
“Confound it!” Devin slapped his fist into his open palm. “The past few Seasons every lady you took from me, you wooed, and then shrugged the poor girl off like an old rag. I will not stand and watch you play those silly games with my cousin. Do I make myself clear?”
Tristan caressed his jaw. He was going to have a tougher time with Devin then he had thought. “You, my dear marquess, have a reputation about Town. I’ve only honorable intentions.”
“If you have such honorable intentions, why did you walk into the ice shop with Lady Helen clamped to you like some deuced lobster?”
Tristan had no intention of discussing that bag of worms. “I came here to call on the two young ladies of the household. Where are they? I asked Webster to convey the message when I arrived."
“My lord,” Webster said, stepping into the drawing room. Both Tristan and Devin looked up. Webster cleared his throat, tugging at his jacket. “Lord Lancewood, I am to convey a message to you from Miss Wilcox.”
“Yes?” Tristan said, a hint of uneasiness nipping at his collar.
“I’m to inform you that the lady shall present herself in precisely half an hour.”
Tristan grimaced.
Devin bellowed with laughter. “A dose of your own medicine, eh?”
“It’s divine. Simply divine.”
Startled, Tristan spun around and glared at the flapping red beast perched beside the window. “I see Mr. Divine has taken residence here as well.”
Devin raised the pitch of his voice and flapped his arms. “Why Tristan, it’s divine. Simply divine.”
Webster retreated, hiding his smile.
Kate sat in the drawing room, ignoring Tristan’s amused gaze as they waited for Charlotte to accompany them. Devin had delighted in the obvious tension between the two, but to his dismay, he was called away due to the arrival of his father’s good friend, Sir Percival, who was foxed to the gills and demanding an audience with the duke who was not at home.
Though Devin was reluctant to leave, he had conveyed to Webster that under no circumstances were the doors to be closed. Kate was grateful.
“A beautiful day, is it not, Kate?”
Kate swung her head around, raising her chin at his hovering form. “You take your liberties too far, sir. I am Miss Wilcox to you.”
“But Kate was the name you told me at the inn. It’s what your friends call you. And I do consider myself your friend,” his smile roved her figure, “after all we’ve been through.”
Kate’s heart gave a skip. She was all the more determined to fight her attraction to this man. “I am not Kate, your friend, or your dear. Y–you threw me into the lake!”
He ignored her complaints with a wry smirk. “I will call you Kate. Now, pray tell, what shall you call me? Lord Windbag seems a bit formal after all we’ve been through.”
His laugh was deep and warm, taking Kate off guard.
“Lord Windbag?” She turned her head, trying to hide her smile. “I shan’t call you anything.”
“But Kate, you can do better than that.” He sat beside her on the sofa and lowered his voice. “Let us call a truce.”
“Very well then.” She turned her head and narrowed her eyes. “If you like, I shall call you Lord Pompous.”
“Lord Pompous?” he croaked. “I presume that name may have been warranted on our previous ride, but now? It seems that under the circumstances, you may call me Tristan or even Lancewood if you’d like.” He bent down to glance at her face and burst out laughing. “Believe me, no one has ever call me a Lord Windbag before and lived to tell about it. Let me be the first to congratulate you.”
He grasped her hand, and she inhaled sharply. “However,” he said, “I do believe you owe me an apology for that kick about ten years ag
o.”
Enamored by his candor, Kate joined in his laughter. A warm feeling flowed through her veins. “Very well, I apologize.”
He moved closer, his eyes twinkling. “Apology accepted.”
Kate leaned toward him and caught herself. Alarmed at her own reaction, she jerked her hand free, focusing on anything but him. He made her forget everything when he touched her like that. But he was not the man for her. He was too powerful. Too daunting. Too despotic. And too obsessive about that diamond. She pulled at her shawl feeling the heat of his stare.
“I thought it was a bit cool in here myself,” he said with a twinge of amusement.
Kate’s heart pounded with dread. Gracious, this man was twisting her heart like a ribbon on a stick. Matthew and his suitors were looking better all the time. She lifted her head in relief when Charlotte walked into the room.
“So sorry to be late,” Charlotte said, her eyes twinkling. “Mother gave me a list of some things she wanted me to buy on our outing. One of the maids is to accompany us in the event we are short on time and I have to make some quick purchases.”
Kate noted the direction of Charlotte’s thoughts and could have kicked her. It was obvious her matchmaking cousin was going to leave her shopping with Tristan, and the man in question was grinning like a boy with his first puppy.
When the carriage finally stopped at Leicester Square where a wealth of shops awaited them, Tristan stepped down from the carriage, all too aware of how his desire for Kate had escalated. He lifted his hand to help Charlotte descend and gave her fingers a squeeze, knowing she would be giving him time with Kate.
It was amazing how Devin’s sister had turned into a beauty after a year or two out of the schoolroom. Her smile was both enchanting and mischievous. Poor Edward probably had no notion of what lay behind those baby blue eyes of hers.
He gave Charlotte a wink, and after the maid descended the carriage, the two hastened into a nearby bookstore.
Smiling, Tristan turned to assist Kate from the carriage. Instead of taking her hand, he circled her small waist as he lifted her to the walk. A sweet lavender bouquet floated in the air. She was heaven in his arms.
He held her for a moment, then finally released her. He gazed at her, trying to interpret her next move. But when a deep blush blanketed her heart-shaped face, it told him all he needed to know. Pleased with himself, he ushered her into a quaint music shop two doors down the street.
Instantly, Kate’s head bobbed up and down as she investigated the stacks of papers and books. Her body swayed down the aisles with the grace of a princess. “Goodness, I’ve never seen so much music in one room before in all my life.”
Tristan rejoiced in her happiness, especially when she came toward him, picking up the music sheets one at a time, glancing at him with a smile that melted his heart.
“I had no idea a place like this existed. Thank you, Tristan.” She frowned. “I mean, Lord Lancewood.”
She was down another aisle before he could respond. Tristan. The sound of her voice wrapped around his heart. He grinned, thinking that if he could pat himself on the back right now he would. Resting his head against the wall, he watched Kate scurry about the room as excited as a child. He kept his eyes on the tiny blond ringlets bouncing on the side of her face.
There was a sense of wildness about her that moved him. She was independent, courageous, and beautiful. Life with her would never be boring.
A sense of urgency drove him to make her his, and at that moment, he almost understood his father’s obsessive quest for the diamond.
The diamond. Tonight he would meet with Andrews and see what other information the Runner had retrieved. And then there was the baron. Whitehall had spies watching Douberry’s home, but they had no proof of his involvement in the lost gem, only rumors. But the man could be more dangerous than he appeared.
Tristan was to circulate in the ton and keep his eyes open for any suspicious activity. Reports were coming in, revealing that the situation in India was escalating. Not only money, but thousands of lives could be lost on both sides if the diamond were not found.
Tristan narrowed his eyes on Kate and frowned. Could the search for the diamond have put her in danger, too?
“Time to go, my little American. It’s getting late, and I have no wish to meet Devin’s wrath if I bring you home late.”
Kate approached him, her doe brown eyes pleading with him. “I may not ever get back here again. Everything is so wonderful. Just a few more minutes. Oh, look! There’s Charlotte!”
Tristan saw Charlotte approach and knew his precious time with Kate was drawing near a close. “Kate, I promise, you will return here.” You will come back here many times after we are married.
A few minutes later, the ladies made their purchases. Things were going extremely well until they stepped outside the shop. A vague sense of alarm slid down Tristan’s back when Kate’s gaze focused on a tall gentleman descending a carriage about a half block away.
“Captain Gaston!” Without another word, Kate hastened toward the gentleman. “Captain, I can’t believe it’s you.”
The older man tipped his head in amazement and grabbed Kate’s hand, lightly kissing her naked wrist. “Why, Miss Katherine Wilcox. Who would have thought I would meet you here?”
Tristan’s blood boiled at the sight of the older gentleman pressing his lips against Kate’s skin. Gray hair dusted the man’s temples and a thin patrician nose gave him a look of importance. He was tall and well built, if women liked that sort of man. Dash it all. The man could be her father. And how the devil did he get that scar on his face?
Kate made the introductions. The man was a captain for the Wilcox shipping line. It seemed he was here visiting relatives and had heard she was staying with the duke.
Later, as Tristan’s carriage rolled along the cobblestone streets toward the duke’s townhouse, Tristan listened with half an ear while Kate talked about the shopping and the music she’d bought. Charlotte interjected with questions about Boston.
Tristan smiled and nodded, his thoughts filtering back to the night at the inn. How could he have missed the beautiful woman hidden beneath that dull gray cloak?
He frowned. Yet it seemed the captain hadn’t missed Kate’s beauty at all.
Tristan had recognized the man’s leering gaze, even if the women had not. Was the man working solely for Kate’s father as a captain on the family’s ships or had Gaston been an old flame? Had the captain ever kissed Kate? Did Kate care for this man? Had she ever loved him?
The disturbing questions cut through Tristan’s mind like a knife. Once again a layer of ice began to form around his heart. What did it matter? Love was for the faint of heart. Courage and loyalty were other matters entirely.
When the carriage finally stopped outside the duke’s townhouse, Charlotte allowed Tristan to help her out of the carriage, followed by the maid and the packages. Devin’s little sister smiled at him, a twinkle in her brown eyes. “Thank you for a most wonderful time.”
Tristan gave her a neat bow. “And thank you.”
Charlotte ran up the steps into the townhouse.
Tristan tilted his head toward Kate as she started out of the carriage. Thick lashes swept off her cheeks as she glanced at Charlotte’s escape.
Kate cast him a wary glance. “I do hope to see you at the Rushting Ball tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there,” he said, and instead of helping her down, he pushed her gently back into the carriage.
Her eyes widened in alarm. “What do you think you’re doing?”
A smile began working its way to his mouth as he closed the door behind him. “Having my way with you, Miss Wilcox.”
She sat as stiff as a statue. “This puts us in a most compromising position, my lord.”
“And we haven’t been there before?”
Her lips parted in surprise. “I fail to see the humor in that.”
Devil take it, he wanted this woman, love or not. She would be his. S
he would be loyal to him. That’s what was important. Yet an inner voice told him he needed something more from her, something he wasn’t quite certain he could return. “I want to kiss you again.”
Her eyes widened. “You what?” she screeched.
Before she had a chance to reply, he gathered her in his arms, brushing his lips against hers. “Kate,” he whispered. She felt so soft, so perfect in his arms, he didn’t want to let her go. He cupped her delicate chin with his hand and kissed her with his eyes. “You are so beautiful.”
“Tristan,” she breathed, falling under his spell.
He reclaimed her lips, hungrily then, crushing her to him. He pressed her against the seat, losing all thoughts of gentlemanly behavior, wanting her to be his, now and forever.
He slipped both hands to her shoulders and slanted his lips across her soft white neck, along her collarbone–
“Tristan...”
The ardor in her voice penetrated his heart like a clanging cymbal. Reality began to slowly seep into his brain. The embrace seemed to end as swiftly as it had begun.
With a pang, he recognized that he was attached to this woman as much as he was to the blasted diamond. “Kate?”
She didn’t answer. Drunk with passion, she rested limply against him. Gently, he lifted her off him. Biting back a curse, he swung open the carriage door. With one hand, he escorted her down the steps of the vehicle and to the front door of the duke’s townhouse.
What the deuce had he been thinking?
He gave her a curt bow. “I shall look for you at the ball.”
Her gaze wavered as she stepped inside the door. “Y-yes, and thank you,” she said, her lips still swollen and trembling, her hair falling against her flushed cheeks. “I enjoyed myself immensely.”
It was obvious she wished to say she’d enjoyed herself at the shop, but she stumbled back and frowned in embarrassment. Her words had taken on a different meaning entirely.
Smiling, Tristan walked back to his carriage. They would have to be married as soon as possible. He wanted Kate, but would ask for her loyalty, not her love. For he knew it would be easier acquiring the diamond than acquiring love from any woman, including Kate.
Once Upon A Diamond (A sweet Regency Historical Romance) Page 15