Diamond Dreams

by Sandra Heath

  Ellie interrupted. “Oh, yes we can, sir. I’m accompanying you to St. Petersburg, and that is positively the last word.”

  Athan gazed at her. “You are a very stubborn woman, Ellie Rutherford.”

  “Mulish is the word you actually wished to use,” she replied with a smile.

  “Possibly.”

  “Definitely.”

  John glanced at them both and drew the conversation back to the business of the diamond. “Mes enfants, it occurs to me that there is something rather odd about this business of hiding the diamond in the lid of the tureen. My soft-paste porcelain is so very delicate that if even I could not retrieve the diamond without breaking the lid, then it is certain that no one else will be able to either.”

  “Meaning?” Athan looked inquiringly at him.

  “Meaning that it will be impossible for Czar Alexander to have both the diamond and the complete tureen. Now, from what you say, Athan, the czar is definitely expecting the tureen.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then Dalmatsky is going to find himself with a dilemma. He will have to hope that the czar will find the acquisition of the diamond sufficient compensation for the ruining of the tureen.”

  * * *

  Fleur did not dally in her desire to get even with Ellie and chose to hurt her through John. She knew from Valentin that Ellie’s uncle was living under a false name and was still being sought by duns, and she knew where those duns were to be found.

  Using money she could ill afford in her severely reduced circumstances, she went to London to lay evidence against him and see if there was a reward. She was disappointed on both counts, for Athan had already settled all John’s debts, and there had never been a reward anyway.

  So Fleur, bitter and defeated, returned to the simple abode she now shared with her mother, who these days was seldom to be found without a handkerchief into which to sob. Fleur’s only recourse now was to encourage Freddie Forrester-Phipps, through whom she was sure she would be able to secure a comfortable future.

  She could not and would not believe Athan’s warning about Freddie being disinherited. Arranging to meet the banker’s son at Cardiff’s most splendid inn, she dressed in her finest clothes and made herself look every inch the Tudor heiress. She wasn’t to know that when she saw him coming toward her in his finest clothes, he was pulling as much wool over her eyes as she was over his.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Ellie and Athan chose May Day for their wedding. The bride was about to leave the house to enter the garlanded landau waiting at the gate. The weather was glorious, the hedgerows foamed white with hawthorn blossom, and the gardens of Nantgarth were bright with lilacs and laburnum.

  Roses would soon come fully into their own, but for the moment wallflowers were sweet and velvety against the houses, and tulips and forget-me-nots bordered the paths. On the mountains the bracken was tall and green, and there were foxgloves in the hollows. No bride could have asked for a more delightful day ... or for so much joy after the misery of the previous year.

  Everyone for miles around had come to see the simple ceremony at St. Dwynwen’s Church, for this was not a grand occasion. Neither bride nor groom had wanted that. Those many members of Glamorgan society whom Athan regarded as friends had all been invited, and Castle Griffin was filled to overflowing with guests.

  Numerous fine carriages were visible up on the mountain by the church, as well as traps, gigs, and other lesser vehicles belonging to more ordinary folk. People lined the route to the church, and there was a small crowd outside Nantgarth House, waiting for a first glimpse of Ellie.

  The stir caused by Fleur’s departure had been a fleeting storm in a teacup. Now that she and her mother were out of the way at the other end of the county, the rumors that had been circulating in Cardiff about her conduct in London became much stronger and more widespread. As a result, few people thought ill of Athan for marrying Ellie instead.

  The diamond had been returned to the Tower of London, where the authorities had consented to keep the matter secret until the perpetrators could be dealt with. Major Carver, of course, went through the tortures of the damned when the diamond came back to the Tower. He feared imminent arrest, but he need not have worried.

  Freddie Forrester-Phipps had never returned to the Newbridge alehouse after Athan saw him, and had disappeared without paying, as predicted. No one knew where he was now, but he had left before news got out of Fleur’s downfall, so whether or not he was aware of it was anyone’s guess.

  The moment had come to leave the house. Ellie shook her skirts out nervously and then adjusted her veil for what must have been the hundredth time. She wore a gown made of the finest lavender silk, because in Wales lavender was considered a very lucky color for brides. It was stitched with tiny beads that sparkled like frost as the train brushed behind her.

  Her ivory silk bonnet had a lavender lace veil, and she carried a dainty posy of pink rosebuds, lilies of the valley, and a sprig of myrtle that had been presented to her by her eight-year-old bridesmaid, Margred, who was the daughter of one of the china workers and also Mrs. Lewis’s grandniece.

  The little girl waited downstairs now in a frilled pink dress with a lavender velvet sash, a wreath of lilies of the valley in her curly red hair. Ellie would return the myrtle to her after the wedding so that Margred could plant it in the garden of her home in Nantgarth, and one day be able to carry a sprig of it at her own wedding.

  “Are you sure I look all I should, Mrs. Lewis?” Ellie asked the patient housekeeper, who had been fussing around her for an hour or more.

  “You look beautiful, Miss Ellie.”

  “Do you promise?”

  Mrs. Lewis smiled. “I promise.” Then she turned as John tapped at the door. “Ellie, my dear? It’s time.”

  The housekeeper took Ellie’s hand and squeezed it warmly. “This is the perfect outcome to it all, Miss Ellie. Now all that has to be done is see that your uncle’s past can never hurt him again. Gwilym will see to it, you mark my words.” With that she raised the edge of Ellie’s veil to kiss her cheek, then hastened out past John, who came in a little hesitantly.

  “Is it all right for a mere male to enter this sanctuary?” he inquired, smiling proudly at his niece. He was wearing his very best clothes and was ready to carry out the duty that Ellie’s father would have undertaken, had he still been alive.

  He had presented the bridal couple with one of the remaining tureens, there being only one surviving lid. The wedding gift had been finished to the same exactingly high standard as that which would be given to the czar, and differed only in that there were forget-me-nots among the delicately painted roses and fruit.

  “You know it is, Uncle,” Ellie replied.

  “You look lovely, my dear. Athan is a very fortunate man.”

  She pulled a wry face. “I rather think that by any yardstick I am the fortunate one to be making such a good match.” She blinked back tears that had been close all day. “I wish Mother and Father were here,” she whispered.

  “I am sure they will be watching, my dear.”

  “I hope so.”

  He took her by the arms and looked intently at her through her veil. “I feel certain that today just marks the beginning of all the good news. Your father’s name is going to be cleared, and I am not only going to give the czar the finest tureen the world has ever seen, but be finally rid of Prince Paul Dalmatsky too. And you and Athan will—”

  “—live happily ever after?” she supplied.

  He nodded. “Yes, just that. And make me a granduncle many times over, I trust. Now then, I want you to let me fix this to your sleeve. There.” He pinned something to her gown, and she looked down to see just that ... a pin.

  “What is it for, Uncle?”

  “When you leave the house, you are to throw it over your shoulder for good luck,” he explained. “It is a Welsh custom, like wearing lavender and giving back a sprig of myrtle. One must observe all these things, or risk incurrin
g bad luck instead.”

  “What a superstitious soul you are,” she teased.

  He raised an eyebrow. “In Nantgarth, with the likes of Gwilym around, it is very difficult to be anything else.”

  “But I notice you didn’t kidnap me last night. Isn’t that what the bride’s family is supposed to do? So the bridegroom can rescue her?”

  “Well, I was afraid Athan might change his mind and not give chase,” he replied with a straight face, then he grinned again. “Speaking of superstition, let me warn you that you will find it in abundance in Russia.”

  They were to leave for St. Petersburg in two weeks, and Athan’s plan to involve the czar had received a considerable fillip when a government courier arrived at Castle Griffin, requesting Athan to carry a personal letter to the czar from the prime minister, Mr. Pitt. The letter contained friendly overtures and an olive branch designed to remove any lingering ill feeling caused by the theft of the red diamond. Athan believed the contents of the letter would ensure Alexander’s willingness to intervene in the matter of the Trepov family.

  Ellie felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of going to Russia, but also a tingle of unease that the enigmatic and dangerous Prince Paul Dalmatsky might yet emerge triumphant. Athan had done his best to dissuade her from making the journey, but she would have none of it.

  The thought of remaining back here, pacing, wringing her hands, worrying herself silly, and generally going through agonies of suspense was simply too much to bear. She had wondered if Athan would resort to male tactics and forbid her to come—after all, she would be his wife when the time came—but he had eventually accepted how strongly she felt. There was no longer any suggestion of her remaining behind.

  John drew her hand through his arm. “Come then, it’s your wedding day, so let us face them all.”

  There were cheers and cries of delight as Ellie and he emerged into the sunshine, followed by little Margred. The path to the gate was strewn with rushes and herbs, and flowers were thrown as Ellie was helped into the landau. As Margred was lifted up too, Ellie removed the pin from the wedding gown sleeve and tossed it over her shoulder, much to the approval of the gathering.

  Progress to the church was slow because so many people had turned out to watch. The way was often blocked, and the coachman had to halt the horses until it was clear again. So many flowers were tossed into the landau that Ellie’s feet quite disappeared beneath them, and her bonnet became a veritable bouquet.

  The mountain air had a wild scent of its own, of heather, blueberries, and thyme, and Ellie felt almost exhilarated as the landau halted at last by the churchyard gate. St. Dwynwen’s well shone in the sunshine, and Ellie noticed that countless new cloths had been tied to the thorn trees.

  Perhaps it was good luck at a wedding, she thought as her uncle alighted and then reached up to assist her down too. She was aware of all the carriages drawn up wherever a place was afforded, of the coachmen and postilions watching her, of the crowds of people. Was this really happening to her? Had Ellie Rutherford’s luck changed so much that she really was about to make her vows with Athan?

  Everything seemed to suddenly be viewed through a haze. She felt she was in a dream as she and John went up the churchyard path to the garlanded porch. Then they were inside, where everything smelled of flowers. She heard the shuffle of feet, coughs, and a general stir as people turned to look at her.

  And she remembered a moment when she had been here before, and heard Athan’s voice uttering the marriage vows: “... to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part...”

  She had taken it for granted that he had been speaking to Fleur, but he had not. He’d been making his vows to her, to Ellie Rutherford....

  John escorted her down the aisle. Athan was there, tall, handsome, and dashing in his bridegroom’s royal blue coat with the round flat silver buttons. She felt the touch of his hand, basked in the adoring warmth of his eyes, and heard his voice as if the dream continued. She must have made her vows too, although she did not know it. His ring was on her finger, his lips against her palm. She heard the sighs of approval in the congregation and knew that she was his wife. She really was his wife. His wife. Athan’s wife ...

  Salt pricked her eyes as he turned back her veil. “I worship you, Ellie,” he whispered, then kissed her there before the altar, with everyone looking on.

  They left the church arm in arm, and the moment they stepped from the porch they were pelted with flowers; as they reached the churchyard gate, they were confronted by all the children from the vicinity. They were dressed in animal costumes, as they had been when Ellie had seen the Mari Llwyd, and they chanted loudly.

  “Throw out! Throw out! Throw out!”

  Ellie looked curiously at Athan. “What do they want?”

  “This!” he answered, and stood to toss a handful of coins. The children squealed with delight, and soon were chanting for more. Three times they chanted, and three times he threw them coins; then the children ran in front of the landau, leaping and dancing like wild creatures.

  The landau’s way was barred with floral ropes as it returned down the mountain, and at each rope the coachman had to pay a toll, or the bridal couple would not be permitted to pass. One by one all the other carriages were charged, so that when the last vehicle had passed by, there was more than enough money for the people to have as excellent a feast as the guests at the castle.

  That night, after a magnificent wedding banquet and dancing in the great hall, Athan and his new bride retired at last to private apartments that had been solely his, but were now hers as well. There she at last saw the portrait that had been just in shadow when she’d seen this night in the tea leaves. It had been familiar then because it was a portrait of her, and now she blushed to think that Thomas Lawrence had presumed to portray her in such a way.

  She saw other remembered things in the rooms too, beautiful furniture, gilded plasterwork, the bowl of roses at the bedside, the tureen on the mantel. What she had seen in the tea leaves hadn’t been wishful thinking after all, but the truth, because this was indeed her wedding night, and she was about to give herself to Athan, who would show her what it really was to love and be loved.

  She lay naked in the bed, waiting for him. The room was in shadow, and then came the glimmer of candlelight as he came toward the bed in the maroon silk dressing gown she knew from before. She also remembered what she had said on that occasion, about it being unlucky to light candles in daylight. But it wasn’t day, it was night, and by the glow of such flames she could see his beloved face as he smiled down at her.

  “I have yearned for this moment, Ellie,” he whispered, and placed the candlestick next to the bowl of roses on the little table at the side of the bed. Then he untied his dressing gown and let it fall. He was naked ... and so excitingly perfect. She was conscious of sharp pangs of desire in the most intimate parts of her body, eager waves of yearning that she no longer needed to control. Not now, for she was in the marriage bed, and he was her husband. Her nipples were hard with arousal as she gazed upon his maleness. How splendid he was, how vigorous and ready to take her. Oh, Athan, my love, my love ...

  “You are my bride and I love you, Ellie,” he whispered.

  “Do you? Do you really?” She was suddenly insecure. This was all too good, too wonderful ...

  “My ring is on your finger, my darling, so how can you doubt? You are my life from now on, Ellie.”

  “Do you swear it?” she whispered.

  “Upon my very soul,” he breathed. “I am going to make sweet love to you, Ellie. Before dawn I will have proved my adoration over and over, and will have shown you ecstasies and delights that you have not dreamed existed.”

  “Are there truly such delights?” she asked.

  He smiled and slipped into the bed with her. The candle flames swayed seductively, sending warm sh
adows over her skin. He leaned over, kissed her on the lips, and drew her down from the pillows so their bodies touched.

  The delicious sensation of his skin against her sent her pulse racing. Her entire being yearned for all of him, wanted to rush toward satisfaction, but she was afraid her utter innocence would disappoint him. “I may fail you, Athan. I’m so green, so ignorant of—”

  “I will teach you.” He kissed her mouth again, and her lips softened and parted. Oh, such a kiss, slow, luxurious, enticing, and filled with such promise that she thought she would die of anticipation. Kiss followed kiss, and caress followed caress as they explored each other for the first time. Her need for him made her feel as if she would ignite, but at last he was inside her and they were one. Her virginity was stormed and then vanquished.

  “Look at me, Ellie,” he whispered. “Look at me for this one moment.”

  She obeyed, her eyes dark with such fierce desire that she would have done anything he wished of her. He smiled, and began to move inside her. “This is love, Ellie. This is true love.”

  She gazed into his eyes, loving him so much that she thought she would die of ecstasy. Joy tumbled wildly through her veins, and her soul seemed to melt into such a wild storm of gratification that she felt she would drown in its fiery waves. It was too much, too much.... Her eyes closed, and she floated away on a sea of pleasure that seemed to stretch to every horizon. This truly was love, the most beautiful love, and it was theirs to share forever, forever, forever....

  Oh, how far away now the green girl kissed by a stranger at the Crown Inn, Hounslow.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Two weeks later, on a misty mid-May dawn that heralded yet another fine day, Ellie, Athan, and Mrs. Lewis joined John in his workroom to look a final time on the tureen before it was packed in a crate of sawdust for the long journey to St. Petersburg. The czar’s horses had already been taken on one of the two barges that were moored at the wharf in readiness to take the travelers on the first stage to Cardiff.