Diamond Dreams

by Sandra Heath

  “Not in Welsh unless you have no English. I wish this young lady to understand what we say.”

  “Do you indeed?” he replied. “Very well, English it is. Taliesin Rees is my name. How may I be of assistance, my lovely? Did you want me for my fine body or my lusty voice?” He winked at Mrs. Lewis.

  “That’s enough of that,” the housekeeper replied a little crossly.

  “Oh, so we don’t have a sense of humor, eh?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “I have too much of importance on my mind to waste time being foolish, Mr. Rees. I want to know why you called the lady rider by the name of Blodyn Evans.”

  Rees shrugged. “Because that’s who she is. Oh, she’s become too fancy a fowl to want to acknowledge the likes of me anymore, but I knew her right enough, and she knew me. I may have been away in Liverpool these past ten years, but I haven’t changed much. She and her mother used to live in the same Merthyr street as my family. No one knew much of what became of them, but looking at her now, I’d say they’ve done well for themselves after all.”

  Ellie stared at him. “Are you saying that you know the lady rider as someone called Blodyn Evans?”

  “But of course. Merthyr born and bred she is, and no better than she should be, just like her mother. Begging your pardon, miss.” Rees nodded apologetically at Ellie, then continued. “There was a whisper that Flossie Evans, that’s Blodyn’s mother, got to be some gentleman’s fancy piece down near Cowbridge. Or was it Bridgend? Somewhere in the Vale of Glamorgan anyway.”

  Mrs. Lewis drew a long breath, thinking that it had to be General Tudor of Ty Newydd, Bridgend. “And this gentleman isn’t Blodyn’s father?”

  “Duw, no. Blodyn’s father is a clergyman from Caerphilly, the youngest son of a baronet, or some such. He was married with ten children, but that didn’t stop him fathering more all over the county. Begging your pardon again, miss. One thing though, he took some responsibility for Blodyn, and saw to it that she was educated. Not that she turned out more of a lady on account of it. Indeed, no.” He chuckled. “Anyway, be that as it may, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw her riding by like the queen of England herself.”

  Mrs. Lewis feared any room for doubt. “And there is no chance that you are wrong? That the rider merely resembled this Blodyn Evans?”

  “I’d know Blodyn anywhere. She’s not the sort a man could forget in a hurry.” He folded his arms and looked at them both a little curiously. “Why all the interest?”

  “That doesn’t matter for the moment,” Mrs. Lewis replied. “Would you be prepared to swear that the woman you just saw was Blodyn Evans?”

  “Swear?” Rees became cautious, because his employer’s business along the canal wasn’t always legitimate.

  “She is passing herself off as someone else and is now betrothed to an upright and generous man who knows nothing of her past,” Mrs. Lewis replied.

  His face changed. “Marry Blodyn Evans? One might as well invite every man in the neighborhood into the wedding bed.” He had the grace to again look a little sheepishly at Ellie. “Begging your pardon yet again, miss, I should not have spoken so crudely.” He returned his glance to Mrs. Lewis. “What’s in it for me?” he inquired bluntly.

  “Oh, you’ll be amply rewarded, make no mistake of that. Can you wait here while I send word to the gentleman in question?”

  “I’m behind time getting up to Ponty as it is, and can’t afford to waste more time now, but I have to go down to Cardiff again tomorrow, about this time. I can hang around more then.”

  Mrs. Lewis eyed him. “I can trust you to do that?”

  He bridled a little. “Taliesin Rees is a man of his word, especially if there is a reward in it. You can count on me being here at the same time tomorrow. I’ll tell your gentleman friend whatever he needs to know. Right now, however, I have business to attend to.” He turned, whistled to his boy, and then leapt back aboard the barge as the horse strained on the towrope again.

  As the long narrow vessel slid away again through the shining water, Mrs. Lewis looked at Ellie. “There seems no mistake. Miss Tudor is actually someone called Blodyn Evans. Blodyn means flower, you know, as I believe Fleur does too. How much more elegant to be a Fleur than a Blod. Well, elegant or not, she was born out of wedlock and isn’t General Tudor’s daughter.”

  The housekeeper chuckled a little. “And her mother is really a Flossie? Well, she’s Hermione now, and no mistake.”

  “They’ve put their past well and truly behind them.” Ellie was shaken. Everything seemed to have happened so suddenly—perhaps too suddenly.

  “That’s a fact.” Mrs. Lewis smoothed her hands on her apron. “Well, now, if all this can be proved, do you see what it means? Those two harpies have tricked Lord Griffin. They have no claim upon General Tudor, no right to be at the castle, and his lordship certainly does not have to go ahead with the marriage.”

  Ellie hardly dared to hope. Could it really be true? Were the lies and pretense of Fleur and her mother about to provide Athan with a simple and honorable means to end his betrothal? It was too good to be true.

  “We must see to it that a message is sent to Lord Griffin without delay,” Mrs. Lewis declared, but Ellie put a hand on her arm.

  “No, not so quickly. If Miss Tudor and the prince are on their way back to the castle, it may alert her if Athan is immediately requested to come down here. We have until tomorrow before Mr. Rees comes back this way, and I happen to know that Lord Griffin is going to Merthyr in the morning to keep some appointment or other. He won’t be returning until the day after tomorrow, and has already told me he will stop at Nantgarth House on his way past in both directions. We can tell him then, and Miss Tudor will not detect any change of plan.”

  The housekeeper nodded. “You are right. Oh, if you only knew how much I relish this! It will be so good to witness the complete downfall of that wicked pair of conniving, deceitful witches. And you, Miss Ellie, will be Lady Griffin, just as I knew you would the moment I saw you. And as he himself wishes so much, is that not so?”

  Ellie looked at her. “There does not seem to be much that you do not know, Mrs. Lewis.”

  “Gwilym is the one who always knows, Miss Ellie. Things come to him, knowledge and wisdom hidden from the rest of us. He does not see everything, just enough to make sure the path taken by the wicked is a stony one. All is going to be well, and nothing will prevent you from becoming mistress of Castle Griffin.”

  “The battle isn’t quite won yet, Mrs. Lewis,” Ellie warned.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The early morning sun shone through a misty haze, and rooks called around the castle’s southwest tower as Fleur accompanied Athan down the courtyard steps to the carriage that was to take him to Merthyr. She wore a white muslin gown sprinkled with cherry dots; there were cherry ribbons in her red hair, and her laughter drifted daintily around the grassy quadrangle. A fringed gray silk shawl trailed the steps behind her.

  Both arms linked through Athan’s, she was the very picture of betrothed happiness, but she failed to cast a spell over the man she was to marry. He felt like disengaging his arm rather than suffering her touch, but something prevented him. Perhaps he was too aware of Valentin standing in the castle entrance behind them, of various servants going about their tasks, and of the coachman waiting by the carriage.

  Fleur paused at the bottom of the steps. “You will not stay away longer than is truly necessary? Please say you will not.”

  “I will be back some time the day after tomorrow.” He turned as if to enter the carriage, but she caught his arm again.

  “You surely do not mean to part so coldly?”

  “I’m not being cold,” he replied, although everything about him said he was.

  “Have you no kiss for me, my lord?” She smiled, a hint of tears in her eyes, a suggestion of a quiver about her soft lips. It was not difficult to summon tears, for she was becoming more and more aware of his withdrawal. It was Ellie Rutherford’
s fault; everything was Ellie’s fault....

  “A kiss? In front of the servants? I think not,” he murmured, but took her hand and raised it toward his lips. He did not kiss it, though, and within a heartbeat had released it again to get into the carriage.

  Fleur’s heart sank deeper as the coachman slammed the door and then moments later stirred the team into action. The sounds of hooves and wheels and the jingle of harness seemed to sound from wall to wall as the vehicle skirted the close-clipped lawn and then drove out beneath the great barbican. As it disappeared down the track toward the valley, Fleur turned slowly to make her way back into the castle. Her cheeks were touched with specks of red to match the ribbons in her hair, and she was aware of the servants’ curious glances following her up the steps.

  Had Athan pushed her away he could not have been more obvious. Nothing she did seemed to heal the rift that Ellie Rutherford had caused between them, and the vulnerability of her position was becoming more and more clear. She had already realized that Valentin was using her, and that she stood no more chance of becoming his princess than she had his uncle’s, but his almost animal virility was intoxicating to her. She would use him while she could, because he satisfied the hunger that was always with her.

  He was no longer in the doorway, but just as she wondered where he had gone, her mother appeared instead, a warning look on her face. “Be sensible now, Fleur, and stay away from the Russian,” she said in a low voice. “You’ve seen how Lord Griffin is with you, and who knows how many servants might be ready to betray you to him.”

  As always when her mother saw fit to lecture her, Fleur heaped scorn upon the warning. “You worry too much, Mama. I am still betrothed to him, and that is what matters.”

  “But for how long will your betrothal endure, my girl? You are behaving like a whore, and the risks you take are so foolish that I despair of—”

  “Enough, Mama. I am not going to be a failure as you were. A wedding ring will grace my finger in fact, not just fiction, so have done with it. Your security is not in danger because of what I do. Rest easy, for Athan will never know how we’ve lied about everything.”

  Fleur swept on into the castle, leaving her mother in the doorway, an anxious figure in blue lawn and a gaudy pink-and-gold Persian shawl. Fleur did not look back, for nothing, nothing, would permit such an admission of uncertainty. But then all thought of insecurity was banished as Valentin’s hand reached from the embrasure of a tall oriel window.

  Catching her hand, he pulled her behind the heavy green velvet drapes, and into his arms. He was in need of instant gratification and showed no gentleness at all. He took her there and then against the embrasure wall, with just the drapes to hide them from the world, and had to put his hand over her mouth to stop her cries as waves of pleasure shook her body.

  * * *

  Athan called at Nantgarth House as promised, and was astounded by the news that awaited him there. He set aside all thought of his appointment in Merthyr in order to be at the wharf when Taliesin Rees returned.

  The barge arrived at the wharf as expected, and Rees was a little alarmed to realize that the fine gentleman waiting with Ellie, Mrs. Lewis, and John Bailey was none other than Lord Griffin, the greatest landowner in the county. Blodyn Evans was hoping to make such a particularly grand match? Who would have thought it?

  On being reassured that the only matter of interest to Athan was Blodyn Evans, Rees proved as informative as he had the day before, providing Athan with the names and addresses of people who’d known Fleur and her mother at Merthyr. After being paid for his trouble, and being hopeful of further remuneration to come, he told Athan that he would be prepared to stand up in court and repeat what he knew.

  As the barge slid on its way south toward Cardiff, Athan turned to Ellie. “I must go to Merthyr after all, and follow up these names and addresses. Ellie, if what Rees says really is true, then I am no longer bound to marry Fleur. Or perhaps I should refer to her as Blodyn from now on.”

  He put a hand to Ellie’s cheek, ignoring the glances of nearby china workers. “I have asked you before, but I ask you again now. If I become free, will you marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  He embraced her in front of everyone, his lips meeting with hers in a way that should only have happened in private, but neither of them could help themselves. Happiness seemed in sight after all, and such a joyful prospect took precedence over discretion.

  Then he put his hand to her chin, and tilted her face so that she looked at him. “One thing, my darling. You may not like it at all, but my damned sense of duty still ties me a little to Fleur and her mother. Oh, not in the way you think, but because they were part of General Tudor’s life. He may not have made an honest woman of Fleur’s mother, but he was fond enough of her. Bearing this in mind, I mean to purchase them somewhere else to live, somewhere modest, but sufficient, and I will provide them with enough to live on. It will be a far cry from Castle Griffin, and the funds will not stretch to London or every new fashion, but they will not starve. There my conscience will end. I will be satisfied I’ve done right by the general, and what they do and how they live their lives will be up to them. Will it upset you if I do these things?”

  “They don’t deserve it, but I am content with whatever you decide.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “I adore you, Ellie Rutherford,” he whispered, then looked past her as he noticed that John had withdrawn in order to return to his workroom.

  Ellie turned. “Uncle John?” As the door closed behind him, she knew it wasn’t that he lacked happiness for Athan and her, rather that he was too burdened with responsibility about the diamond ... and the fate of the innocent Trepov family in Russia.

  Athan put a gentle hand on her arm. “I’ll speak to him. I have things to say anyway, for I have my plan to explain.”

  “Am I not to know what it is too?” she protested.

  “I will allow your uncle to tell you when I have taken myself off to Merthyr. In the meantime, I need to be alone with him. You and Mrs. Lewis go back inside now.”

  He ushered them before him, and as they disappeared upon the spiral stone steps to the kitchen, he knocked, on the workroom door. “John, a word with you, if you please.”

  John admitted him, and tried to smile. “Have you come to tell me the ground rent is still overdue?” he inquired wryly, being too heavyhearted to really make light of anything.

  “Right now I could not care less about the ground rent.”

  “What then?”

  Athan looked intently at him. “I wish you to know that you have my support in the matter of the diamond.”

  John became very still. “Diamond?”

  “There is no need to play the innocent, for Ellie and I were outside last night. We know what was said in here between you and Prince Valentin.”

  John’s forced smile faded, and his face seemed suddenly old and quite gray. “I have to do as he says, Athan, so if you mean to persuade me to return the diamond, pray save your breath.”

  “Oh, the diamond will be returned to the Tower soon enough, but right now, I want you to consider this.” Athan put a hand in his pocket and took out a walnut, which he placed on the nearest trestle.

  “A walnut? But—”

  “It is the same size as the diamond, I think. Well, more or less.”

  “Yes, it is, but I fail to see the significance.”

  Athan waved a hand to encompass the three tureens. “One of them contains the diamond, but I could only tell you which if I took each lid and looked inside. What if a second lid were tampered with in the same way, and it was this second lid that was taken to St. Petersburg?”

  John looked at the tureens, then at him. “The decoration of each lid, as of each tureen and stand, is slightly different. The prince would know immediately that it wasn’t the same lid.”

  “You think so? Come now, Prince Valentin Andreyev is many things, but a connoisseur of porcelain decoration he is not. Besides, they a
re similar enough to fool me, so I am certain the finer points will pass him by too.”

  John nodded. “Maybe,” he conceded, “but even so, you are suggesting that I take a walnut to Czar Alexander? I cannot imagine that he will be greatly amused.”

  “I’d stake my life that Alexander isn’t party to this. He might want to possess both diamonds, but not if the second one has been stolen from the country with which he’s desperate to sign a treaty against France. I believe that Dalmatsky has badly miscalculated. His judgment is clouded by his thirst for revenge upon you. His nephew, of course, has no judgment, and is simply his uncle’s pawn.”

  John continued to gaze at him. “You may be right,” he said after a while, and plumped wearily on his high stool. “I have been so intimidated by the threat to Nikolai’s family, that I haven’t been able to see clearly.”

  “Well, I cannot claim to be seeing all that clearly, but common sense leads me to my conclusions. That, and the fact that I have met Alexander, of course, and know that right now he’s more interested in an alliance than he is in uniting the diamonds. It stands to reason that the sudden appearance of the second stone in St. Petersburg is going to cause a monumental rift with Britain.

  “It may please Prince Valentin, who reveres Bonaparte to the point of worship, and maybe Dalmatsky is for the French as well, but Alexander isn’t for the French. He wants Britain, and that is the key. So let Dalmatsky and his nephew find nothing more than a nice Welsh walnut when they look in the lid.” Athan grinned. “What do you say? Is it worth trying?”

  John was about to smile too, but then remembered. “Nikolai’s family ...”

  “I have considered that too. They may be Dalmatsky’s serfs, but Alexander is Dalmatsky’s emperor. I am promised another audience when I return to St. Petersburg, and if I use the opportunity to give the horses to the imperial stud as a gift, Alexander will ask me what he may do in return, as a token of his appreciation. Don’t forget how keen he is for a treaty with Britain against the French, which I believe will render him well disposed toward a request about protecting the Trepovs. Dalmatsky will not dare harm them after that.”