“I’d love to take a look,” she said. “Do you mind if I go tuck away in the corner on the sofa and go through them?”
“Be my guest.”
Some of the pictures were of racehorses they’d owned, judging by pictures of his handsome father holding large trophies next to horses draped with floral garlands. Other pictures were very old, images that looked like they were from the turn of the century.
Caroline couldn’t help but ask Darcy about them. “Are these ancestors of yours? And is that how you refer to them when you’re of royal lineage?” She laughed.
Darcy came over and sat next to Caroline. “This isn’t a thinly veiled attempt at getting me near you when I’m most vulnerable, is it?”
Caroline just rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said. “If you think you’re better off without me, then trust me, I won’t attack you. Besides, there are plenty of other fish in the sea.”
Darcy’s eyebrows looked like opposing ski slopes. “What do you mean, other fish in the sea?”
“Just what I said,” she said. “I’m young and desirable and—not to brag or anything—I’ve never had trouble before landing any man I wanted. I’ll just set my sights on someone who doesn’t flip-flop like a fish on a line.”
Darcy sighed, ruffling his hair. “Back to the photographs. This is my great-gran.” He pointed at a young woman in a long dress with a parasol. “She’s standing— Oh, look at this. I think this is Adrian’s great-gran as well. They’re so young in this picture it’s hard to tell.”
“So your families have been friends for that long?”
Adrian shrugged. “It’s a tiny country.”
“I love all the beautiful details in their gowns. The flattering cut of them. Those bustles. I’d love to have a bustle because then no one would know if I had a fat butt or it was the bustle. Oh and those fabrics—in color they must have been gorgeous. And look how handsome—is this your great-grandfather? He’s a veritable Mr. Darcy. Ha-ha. Darcy, get it? So dapper.”
Darcy looked at her. “Fat butt? You?”
“If the bustle fits...”
“I think your bottom is just fine.”
“I figured you hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh, trust me, I’ve noticed. In spades. I’m just trying not to.”
“So you have to actively try not to notice it?” Caroline was trying to find a silver lining, but it was slight consolation. “Maybe you should just go with the flow. Did you ever think of that?”
“Trust me, I have. And Adrian tells me the same thing. Are you feeding him lines or something?”
“Are you kidding me? I haven’t said word one to Adrian about you. Whatever he’s saying to you, he’s saying it on his own. But let’s get back to that booty thing.”
“Oh, look, there’s a picture of me when I was just three.”
“Your diversionary tactics have not gone unnoticed,” Caroline said. “But darn, you were a cute little bugger. Look at that sweet face.” She squeezed his cheek.
“Was? You suggest that in the past tense, as in I’m no longer a cute bugger?”
Caroline pushed him lightly with both hands. “I’m no longer authorized to have opinions on the current Darcy. Only baby Darcy. Speaking of, look at this one!”
It was a baby picture with little Darcy wrapped in a blanket that had his name on it.
“What a little chunk you were,” she said, this time taking a squeeze on his gut. “I guess that hasn’t changed much.” She laughed at her bad joke.
“Chunk? I’m in peak physical condition,” Darcy said, holding his arm up and making a muscle. “Clearly you were looking at other big things of mine and failed to notice.”
She measured his bicep with her hand and squeezed. “Yup. Guess you’re right. Good thing you’re in great shape to live the rest of your life alone, in the service of your family. You’ll need your strength on those long, lonely nights. Especially after your brother and sister have married and moved away and are raising children of their own. I’d suggest you don’t drop that gym membership—might become your best friend. That and your hand.”
“I’ll show you long lonely nights,” he said in a low voice. “Get over here.”
Darcy leaned over, pressing Caroline against the couch as he stretched them both across it. He angled his head to the side of Caroline’s neck, making long strokes with his tongue, from her shoulder to that sensitive spot behind her ear.
“God, you are so bloody damned irresistible,” he whispered as he alternated tiny licks and kisses around her face, beneath her chin, being sure not to neglect the other side before finally settling over her mouth, his tongue seeking hers as they both strained toward each other, panting from the effort. Darcy settled himself in just the right spot between Caroline’s legs, now wrapped around his, and he ground himself in a rhythmic pattern against her while Caroline pulled him even closer in.
“You’ve bewitched me.” Darcy breathed the words to Caroline as he pressed his forehead to hers, panting as though he’d just run a hard sprint. Caroline responded by reaching her tongue out to lick the tip of his nose, then worked her way toward his ear where she kissed and licked as Darcy ground himself against her harder still.
“I need so badly to be inside you,” he said, reaching down, trying to unbutton her pants and scoot them down while unzipping his shorts and giving himself ready access. Mission accomplished, he pulled her damp panties aside and quietly slid his swollen cock inside her.
For a minute they were both still, only able to hear the snuffle of horses above the rasp of their heavy breath. Caroline’s breathing hitched as Darcy began to move slowly in and out, filling her, then pulling away, reminding her of his actions of late, this clashing push-pull of desires and obligation. Darcy’s hand reached down to Caroline’s wet center, and his fingers played their magical notes as they circled her, driving her closer and closer to orgasm.
She was breathing hard into his mouth, as he was in hers, their tongues entwined, so lost in the moment that they failed to hear footsteps in the hallway until it was too late.
“Well, I see you’ve gotten your ‘helping’ off with a big bang,” Edouardo said.
Caroline yelped while Darcy tried to plaster himself against her to hide her from his brother’s prying eyes.
“Edouardo, get the hell out of here. Now,” Darcy demanded.
“Be careful, Darcy,” he said. “This isn’t the kind of help you need right now. Some gold-digging American bird suspiciously showing up at an opportune time? Use your head, not your dick.”
He turned away, slamming the door behind him, leaving Caroline mortified and downright despondent, and Darcy in a most uncompleted state.
And here Caroline had been so grateful Alastair was out in the fields, she hadn’t thought betrayal would come in the form of old Maxi-Me, Edouardo. And to think things had been looking up.
Now she just wanted to cry.
Chapter Sixteen
“HERE, have another tissue,” Emma said, trying desperately to comfort her bereft friend.
“But he was finally coming around,” Caroline said between sobbing gasps, for probably the forty-fifth time in a span of fourteen minutes.
“I know. There, there,” Emma said, stroking her friend’s head as she tried to console her. “Let’s look at the bright side here. It’s obvious Darcy has strong feelings for you.”
Caroline sobbed. “Yes, but just when I was finally breaking through all that nonsense guilt thing of his, his stupid bully brother storms in and humiliates me and suggests I’m a... a... a gold digger.” Caroline’s crying became louder still. “How can I be a gold digger when I didn’t even know Darcy had any gold? All that time with him, before I came here, I thought he was just Adrian’s employee.”
Emma handed her friend yet another tissue. “You know that. And I know that. And everyone knows that. You’re not after Darcy’s money. You love the man.”
Caroline bristled. “I don’t love anyone,�
� she said, annoyed enough to even stop crying for a minute. “Well, maybe you. Okay, I love you because you’re my best friend. But there’s no man in the world I would ever put myself out there emotionally to that degree.”
“I know what you’re saying, Caro, really I do. But at some point you might want to recognize that maybe you’ve got some strong feelings for the guy. I mean, even I had to own up to that with Adrian, and I sure as hell had no intentions of settling for anyone.”
“Yeah, but that’s you. Leave me out of your succumbing. Even though if you had to succumb, you did it in royal fashion. Quite literally.”
Emma smiled. “That should tell you something. If I, little old Emma Davison from northern Virginia, can end up here, well, that’s proof miracles do happen.”
“Miracles schmiracles.”
“I tell you what: how about a little trip to try on tiaras as a distraction?”
“Do I get to keep any?”
Emma balled up a tissue and shot it at her forehead. “No, silly! I don’t even get to keep the one I’ll wear for the wedding. It’s just a loaner.”
“Can I try them on at least?”
Emma nodded. “Now that can be arranged. Let’s see if Isabella wants to come along.”
~*~
“I cannot believe I haven’t seen you since you’ve been back,” Adrian’s sister Isabella said, giving Caroline a squeeze. The two had met when Caroline accompanied Emma to the Saint Christus Day festivities back in December. Isabella held her at arm’s length, taking a good look at her. “You look fantastic. That is, minus the puffy eyes.” She wiped at a stray tear with her thumb.
“You heard?”
“Sorry. I think they could hear you crying in the ballroom,” she said with a grin. “Joking! Emma said you needed cheering up, and I agree, there’s no better way than therapy time with some gorgeous jewels.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Caroline said, failing to mention that her idea of jewelry and Isabella’s were slightly different. Caroline’s fancy necklace was a set of fake pearls she’d gotten for ten bucks at an after-Christmas sale at the department store.
They were escorted to the vault by a palace valet who lugged a large iron key to the oversized arched wooden door. It was like one of the keys you’d imagine would access a medieval prison. Once inside, however, they came into a softly lit room with periwinkle walls that looked much like a jewelry store. Only in each locked case were the most extraordinary of jewels: priceless rubies, diamonds, sapphires and emeralds, set into necklaces and earrings and brooches and bracelets.
“My God. There are enough pieces of jewelry in here to decorate an entire NFL football team from head to toe with enough left over for perhaps an NBA basketball team as well,” Caroline said, giggling as she tried to imagine one of those football teams dripping in gemstones.
“So let’s get trying,” Isabella said, tucking her long, wavy, black hair behind her ears. She was the keeper of the keys for each case and invited the women to try on whatever they’d like.
Caroline’s first choice was a sautoir necklace with strands of pearls interspersed with emeralds and diamonds, ending in a lassoed diamond-and-pearl tassel capped by two brilliant cushion-cut emeralds.
“I feel like a flapper,” she said. “One who’s dating a really successful mobster.”
Isabella added a thirty-carat rectangular-cut diamond ring that was as big as an eyeball. “Certainly something a mobster might buy,” she said with a wink. “However, in our case, it was a gift from my great-great-great-grandfather to his daughter, my great-great-grandmother.”
Caroline held out her hand and splayed her fingers, admiring and examining the rock, turning her hand this way and that. “Nah, too gaudy for me.” She giggled. “Imagine turning down a thirty-carat diamond ring! Won’t be happening in my lifetime!”
Emma then donned a Belle Époque diamond choker and modeled it for her friends. “Cinderella, anyone?” she said, spinning around, and they nodded. She then put on a ring featuring a stunning cushion-cut sapphire the size of a walnut flanked by two fat diamonds. “Okay now I’m going for the Princess Di-Cinderella combo. What do you think?”
“Oh, it totally works,” Caroline said. “You’re dazzling.”
Caroline slid on a diamond-and-ruby bracelet so laden with stones she said she’d have to drag her knuckles on the ground if she wore it.
Isabella clipped on art deco sapphire-and-diamond earrings that were about an inch long and half an inch wide, like ear chandeliers.
“You mean those only clip on?” Emma said. “What happens if they slide off from their weight?”
“I think you check your ears every twenty seconds to be sure that doesn’t happen,” Caroline said. “Either that or you can afford for them to fall off and not sweat it.”
“Even if the value wasn’t significant, which it is, the sentiment behind them always is,” Isabella said. “These belonged to my grandmother, whom I well remember wearing them. It always makes me smile to think of her with them on.”
“They certainly bring out your gorgeous eyes,” Caroline said. “You’re like the female version of Adrian, what with that bouncin’ and behavin’ hair and those brilliant blue peepers.”
“You flatter me,” Isabella said, batting her eyelashes.
“Oh, look at the kitty cat,” Emma said, pointing to a diamond-and-onyx panther brooch complete with glowing emerald eyes. “That’s my kind of killer cat.”
“What do you think about this one?” Caroline said as she had Isabella help her with a diamond necklace with about fifty interlinking diamond-crusted bands. She put it on her neck and paraded around as if she were a model on a runway.
“You’d better give up any plans to become a model, Caro. You look like you’ve got something stuck up your booty,” Emma said.
They all laughed.
“Now that we’ve gone through the warm-up,” Isabella said, “let’s get down to the real stuff.”
She led them to a separate room in which maybe forty different tiaras were on display in separate cases, mounted on black velvet with spotlights on each of them. “Pick your poison.”
The oohing and ahhing took over at that point, with an occasional gasp coming from Caroline. “Oh my God, Emma. You get to wear one of these for your wedding? I can’t even stand it. It’s so unbelievable! Can I try some on?”
“But of course,” Isabella said, her hands spread out like a showcase model for The Price is Right.
Caroline first pointed to a platinum tiara with a quail-egg-sized oval white opal at its center, a smaller oxblood-red ruby suspended beneath it, held together with slanted bands of sparkling rose-cut diamonds with jewel-encrusted tassels dangling from either side.
“It’s like what Cleopatra might wear to the ball,” she said, breathless, her hands clasped together.
“In that case, let’s see what the Queen of Sheba might wear,” Isabella said, pulling out an elegant gold tiara of twining snake bodies meeting in the center as one cobra head, the scales of which were layered diamonds with a large teardrop ruby dripping from its tongue.
“Ooooh, I like it. It’s sort of macabre,” Caroline said. “Something an evil queen might wear. Complements my hair, dontcha think?” She donned the heavy headdress and nodded, showing it off to her friends.
“That thing suits you so perfectly,” Emma said. “I wish you could wear that around all the time. You’d be the talk of the town.” She was quickly distracted by another treasure of the collection, and her eyes lit up. “This”—she pointed at the illuminated headpiece—“is breathtaking.”
Isabella unlocked the case and removed the diamond scroll tiara containing piecework flowers and leaves set with shimmering pear-shaped diamonds and sapphires, single-cut and rose diamonds, and—excuse the pun—the perfect crowning glory of a nearly half-inch-wide pearl atop the center of the tiara.
“If I had tried to imagine a dream tiara—and let’s be real, that isn’t a sentence that normally comes
out of my mouth—then this is it.” Emma gasped.
“It’s so absolutely perfect,” Caroline said. “Subtle yet elegant. Tasteful yet bold—”
“I know you’re mocking me, but I’m being serious here.” Emma’s eyes lit up. “This is the one.”
“Are you prepared to say yes then?” Caroline said, holding out a pretend microphone. “Say yes to the tiara?”
Emma nodded, smiling. “Absolutely, yes.”
Caroline clasped her hands together and twirled her thumbs. “So, uh, I don’t suppose I could wear this snake-crown thing at your wedding at least? I feel like there is some sort of symbolism to it. Snakes don’t find mates either, do they? I feel a kinship to this little lady.” She patted the tiara.
“I know a tiny bit about the provenance of this tiara,” Isabella said, biting on her lip. “Funny thing: it became part of the collection when Darcy’s great-great-great-great-grandfather donated it after he lost his love for whom this was a gift. It’s known as the Weltenham Asp.”
“Seriously?” Caroline said. “I can’t even escape the man in a vault? Oh well, this is what is left of my fling with Darcy. I’ll wear it with pride.”
“Maybe we can preserve it digitally instead?” Isabella said, pulling out her mobile. “Heads together and on the count of three. One, two, three—”
Caroline turned her head and planted a fat kiss on Emma’s face while turning the snake head to face the camera still.
“Thanks for cheering me up,” she whispered to Emma. “If I have to settle for a dress-up session with the girls instead of some dumb boy, well, that’s okay. I’ll survive.”
“You’ll do better than that, Caro. You’ll thrive. Just you wait and see.”
Chapter Seventeen
DARCY had been holed up in his father’s office in the barn for nearly a week, toiling late into the night, organizing, sorting, trying to make sense of everything. Occasionally Clementine would bring him a meal or a cooler with beer in it, but he’d then shoo her off so he could focus. Every time she tried to bring up whatever it was that had happened between him and Edouardo, Darcy just put up a hand and said, “Enough.”
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