Diamonds and Dreams

by Rebecca Paisley

  “It was an honest bet, and you gave your word to keep your end of it, Saber. I’ve known you to do a lot of things during our many years together, but I’ve never known you to break an oath.”

  “Then let it be recorded that I’m breaking this one.”

  “You’ll regret it.”

  “I sincerely doubt that.”

  Addison smiled. “Refusing to go to Leighwood or disobeying us while there will cost you dearly. You’ll be obliged to escort your Aunt Lucy and Aunt Clara to Paris, not to mention whichever friends they decide to invite along for the trip. I’ve already discussed it with the aunties, and they’re praying you won’t honor the bet you made with the boys and me. You know how long they’ve been wanting to see Paris again. And since they’re unable to travel by themselves anymore, they’re quite anxious for you to take them.”

  Saber curled his hands into fists, realizing he was thoroughly trapped. Backing out of the bet with Addison and the boys was one thing, but disappointing his Aunt Lucy and Aunt Clara was quite another. He couldn’t do that. It would hurt them terribly.

  However, escorting a bevy of elderly ladies to Paris was about the worst thing he could think of himself doing. He loved his two aunts dearly, but they and their friends had a way of driving him to distraction. Being a slave for two weeks at Leighwood was definitely the lesser of the two evils. “You and the lads have tricked me into some outlandish wagers during the years, Addison, but this one—”

  “Is by far the best,” Addison finished for him. “Better even than the time you lost a bet and had to escort Prudence Weatherby to the Marlborough ball.”

  Saber groaned again, remembering that not only was Prudence Weatherby the homeliest girl in all of London, but she also had some sort of deformity in her nose that caused her to snort like a sow. The Marlborough ball had been one of the longest, most irritating nights of his life.

  At the look of revulsion on Saber’s face, Addison grinned and strolled to the door. “Give over, Saber. You’ve well and truly lost. And if you could possibly see your situation in a more positive light, you would be thanking the boys and me for all we’ve done and still plan to do. You need to be ruffled on occasion. Your life is boring and uneventful, and a trip out of London is just the thing for you. I cannot remember the last time you joined us for a holiday in the country. The only times you ever go are when you slip away for those passion-filled trysts with the Frost Queen. And don’t try sending word to her of your whereabouts for the next two weeks, Saber. Jillian’s not invited. If she dares to show up, I will personally—”

  Saber set down his cup, the loud rattle cutting off Addison. “I was under the impression that Leighwood belongs to me. Are you saying I am forbidden to invite—”

  “Exactly. The agreement was that you would do exactly as the boys and I say, and we say she’s not invited. Whatever it is you see in that female serpent is beyond me anyway.”

  Jillian Somerset’s image came to Saber’s mind. The young and extraordinarily beautiful widow of an elderly earl, her hot body sheltered an icy heart, and that suited him perfectly. He made no promises to her, saw no future with her, and he’d made that clear from the very beginning of their relationship. He suspected she harbored the secret desire to become his duchess, but if she ever brought the subject up he’d dismiss her from his life in an instant.

  Addison saw the faraway look in Saber’s eyes and realized he was pondering Jillian. “You’ll never meet anyone else if you insist on spending what little free time you allow yourself with her, Saber. Granted, she is a beautiful woman, but hers is a cold beauty. I confess to shivering when she looks at me with those glacial blue eyes of hers. There are dozens of other lovely women who—”

  “I’ve seen most all of them, care for none, and have no desire to meet any others.” Bejeweled vultures, all of them, he mused angrily. He was the prime piece of meat, and he did everything he could to avoid their sharpened talons. “None are any different than Jillian, Addison, so I fail to see the importance of my becoming acquainted with them.”

  “But—”

  “At any rate, my love life is my own concern, and I will not discuss it with you. I’m in no need of your matchmaking anyway, and thank God I’m not. The last girl you arranged for me to meet didn’t know what two plus two equals, and could speak of nothing but her talent with napkins. For two solid hours I had to sit and watch her fold a square of linen into different shapes. One of them, as I recall, was my own profile. Now why she thought I would enjoy wiping my mouth with my own face goes quite beyond my lowly comprehension.”

  Addison smiled. “Dulcie was beautiful though, and if you’d married her, the place settings at your dinner parties would have been the talk of London. I bet Jillian doesn’t have such a unique talent.”

  Saber raised a black brow and couldn’t resist irritating Addison. “No, but I thoroughly enjoy the ones she does have.”

  “She’s after your title and fortune.”

  So is every other unmarried female in London, Saber raged silently. “She’ll get neither, and this discussion is over.”

  Addison tipped his imaginary hat and grinned again. “I’ll meet you downstairs. I’ve already informed your staff to prepare you for the trip, and I’ve sent a messenger to Leighwood as well. It will be Leighwood rather than Paris, will it not?”

  “You know perfectly well it will be,” Saber snapped. “You made sure of it.”

  Addison couldn’t stop smiling. “Smashing! I’ll be in the drawing room with your dear, sweet aunties. When I left them they were having a discussion concerning the poor unfortunate street girl who will be living with them. Sheltering, teaching, and finding honest employment for destitute lasses is the newest mission of mercy among the older ladies of the nobility. From what I gather, Ladies Roth, Baldwin, Ainsworth, and Chapman already have their little paupers.”

  Saber’s shoulders sagged. A thieving street waif in his home was just what he needed, he thought sardonically. God. What other obnoxious bits of news were going to come to him today? “I suppose Aunt Lucy and Aunt Clara are anxious to have one of these lasses of their own?”

  “‘The most ignorant and needy soul in all of England.’ Those were their precise words. They have consented, however, to wait until you return from your trip. I’ll go now and inform them you’ve chosen to go to Leighwood rather than Paris.”

  “Addison, I swear I’ll have you on toast for this!”

  “The deuce, you say?” Addison exclaimed, feigning fear. “Cheer up, old chap. The bet could have been for higher stakes.”

  Saber made a growling sound. “What, besides going to Paris with Aunt Lucy, Aunt Clara, and a group of their companions, could be worse than being a servant to you and those three idiots I’m confused enough to call friends?”

  Addison was silent for a moment. He looked at the floor, then back up at Saber. “We could have stipulated the fortnight be spent at Ravenhurst instead of Leighwood. God knows something must get you back to your ducal lands.”

  Though Saber was a master at hiding his emotions, Addison did not miss the fleeting look of rage in his eyes and felt a wave of frustration and sadness. “You’ll have to return one day, Saber,” he said quietly. “And when you do, it should be with your duchess on your arm.”

  Like a giant wave, grief gathered, swelled, and crashed through Saber. He felt as though he were drowning in it, “Addison—”

  “If you won’t be told by me, your closest friend, who will you listen to?”

  “And you never let an opportunity pass to tell me, do you?”

  “Then you’ll hear me out?”

  “Short of killing you, I cannot think of a way to dissuade you. Besides, it is not the purpose of your life to run mine?”

  Addison was undaunted by his friend’s sarcasm. He loved Saber like a brother and there was nothing he wouldn’t do, dare, or shoulder in order to help him set his life right again. “Five years, Saber. Five years or sixty months, or two hundred and s
ixty weeks, or... How many days is that? Well, no matter. However you look at it, it’s a very long time to hide from the world.”

  “I do not hide.”

  “Very well,” Addison conceded. “Five years is a long time to pretend you have no feelings for the world and the people who live in it.”

  “I am feeling impatience and anger at this moment.”

  “Lord Marion Tremayne,” Addison continued, rocking from toes to heels. “Once a man of charm and laughter. But that man met his death when Angelica Sheridan did. Yes, as I live by bread, the truth is that he’s turned his face to the wall.”

  “Addison, I will hear no more!” Saber stormed to the window and glared out of it. Gripping the draperies, he watched black smoke rising into the sky, casting a grayish film over the city. The sight suited his mood. “Do not speak of Angelica. She is the one subject I forbid you to ever try to discuss with me.”

  “She’s dead,” Addison went on heedlessly. “You are alive. You have a life, and you must live it.”

  Not without her, Saber responded silently, his hold on the curtains tightening.

  “You are not unlike Winston’s Uncle Horatio, Saber.”

  “And I have the utmost respect for the man,” Saber countered. “Granted, he appears rather sour at times, but—”

  “Rather? My God, Saber, the man was weaned on a lemon! You said yourself he’s the most cantankerous man in all of England! And not only that, he’s quite the most fastidious man I’ve ever known. You, Saber, come in second. What do the two of you do before starting your day? Wallow in a tub of starch?”

  “Are you implying that I should abandon all civilized modes of behavior and become a tearabout as you and the boys—”

  “We are not tearabouts. We simply find ways to bend the rules without breaking them. You used to enjoy that also, Saber. But now...now you are as stuffy as—”

  “Addison, you are trying my patience sorely.”

  “You’re angry because I speak the truth, and you don’t care for the way it sounds. I realize you have specific moral obligations as the Duke of Ravenhurst, Saber. As the Earl of Aurora Hills, I have similar ones. There are certain codes of decorum we must observe. But we are not required to be so indifferent to life that we have neither the time nor inclination to seek diversion. To laugh. To notice whether or not it is raining. To sing a song! When was the last time you sang out loud?”

  “What bearing does that have on—”

  “I’ll keep asking the question until you answer it.”

  Saber sighed and laid his forehead against the window pane. “When I was a child.”

  “Perhaps you should try it as an adult.”

  “Perhaps you should leave this room before—”

  “But perhaps I shall stay until I’ve finished what I’m saying.”

  “I believe you’ve already said outside of enough.”

  Addison crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Quite the contrary. I called on you yesterday morning. Did the aunties inform you of that? No, of course not. How could they? You were locked away in your office. And I knew why, Saber. Yesterday would have been your fifth wedding anniversary. You do the same thing each year. You lock yourself—”

  “I was working.”

  “You were not working. You were mourning. And that is why the boys and I came and dragged you to Winston’s last night.”

  “I should have had the lot of you arrested.”

  “But you didn’t. Because as much as it goes against your grain to admit it, you harbor a deep fondness for us. We are your friends, and if you won’t help yourself it is our obligation to—”

  “I am in no need of help.”

  “Ah, but you are.” Addison walked back into the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “You think to mask what is inside you, Saber, but the boys and I have known you for too long to be fooled so easily. Since Angelica’s death, you have been the epitome of social grace. Your manners are so utterly spotless that you are quite the most boring member of the nobility. Yes, I believe you even surpass Horatio Alders. You are definitely and positively His Perfect Lordship, the Duke of Ravenhurst.”

  Saber’s gaze narrowed until he could see London’s gray haze only through the slashes of his eyes. “I assume you mean that as an insult.”

  “I do. Because there was a time, Saber, when although you were the Duke of Ravenhurst, you were first and foremost Saber Tremayne. And therein lie your many problems.”

  Saber spun from the window. “I have no problems, and this discussion has reached its conclusion. Take yourself from this room, or I shall—”

  “You have many problems, and lucky for you, I not only know what they are, I’m willing to divulge them.” Addison straightened his lapel before continuing. “As the eleventh Duke of Ravenhurst, a man devoid of all feeling, it is your duty to marry, produce an heir, and instill in your little son an abiding love for the Tremayne lands. To do that, you will have to raise the boy at Ravenhurst.”

  “Addison—”

  “But as Saber Tremayne, the man filled with very human emotions, you have vowed never to return to Ravenhurst. Moreover, you refuse to enter into a loveless marriage. After having loved Angelica, you—”

  “Get out.”

  “And so we come to the problems,” Addison continued smoothly. “The Duke of Ravenhurst is duty-bound to marry a woman who will provide him with a son. But Saber Tremayne, who will not marry without love, has sworn never to search for it either. Instead, he has buried all emotion and has sought refuge behind his lofty title. The duke. That man is your facade. The indifferent air, the authority...those are your shields against the possibility of ever loving again. But in truth, you are Lord Tremayne in name only. Down deep, lies Saber Tremayne. A man who cares very much. You’re afraid of love. You’ve loved and lost so many times, that you—”

  “Addison—”

  “That’s why you spend time with the Frost Queen. She warms your body but does nothing at all to melt the ice around your heart. She doesn’t even try. Jillian’s cold, and that’s the way you want to be too. Ice can be with ice, and they’ll both stay frozen. But put ice in contact with heat, and it melts. You don’t attend any of the social activities because it’s possible you might meet a warm woman at one of them, and her warmth might reach your heart. And then you’ll be vulnerable, won’t you, Saber? Opening your heart means taking another chance on life, and you might lose again.”

  Saber ran his fingers through his hair. Words he didn’t want to speak came to his lips. “Those women you speak of, Addison...they—Not a one of them—How can you say there is any warmth in them?”

  Addison took a moment to dwell on Saber’s question. “Ah, I begin to see.”

  “You see nothing. If you did, you would realize the depth of your misconceptions.”

  “So you are denying everything I have said to you? Lie to others if you must, Saber, but do not lie to me. Or to yourself. I understand you. If I didn’t, I would never dare to presume that I could waltz in here and throw a cat in with the pigeons as I have done.”

  Saber raised his chin. “But you’re wrong about the women. They want only to be the Duchess of Ravenhurst. They see nothing in me but my title and fortune. What warmth is there in that?” he snapped.

  Addison realized he was receiving a rare glimpse of what Saber carried inside him. The realization made him want to embrace his friend. “You’ve given them no other choice but to see you that way, Saber,” he said softly. “You hide your true nature behind the Duke of Ravenhurst facade.”

  Addison walked back to the door and opened it. “You’re going to Leighwood with us today. There, you cannot be the Duke of Ravenhurst. You will be our slave. I really have no earthly idea if our fortnight will do you any good, but I’m praying for some kind of miracle. You will be forced to shed the role of duke...so who knows what might happen? It could be that you’ll have a little fun. Maybe you’ll laugh. Maybe you’ll look up and be astonished at how very blue
the sky is.”

  How blue the sky is, Saber thought. Couldn’t Addison see that the sky was gray? He straightened, looked his friend in the eye, and felt his irritation return. “The only miracle that might occur at Leighwood, Addison, is that the end of the fortnight will find me with my wits still about me. If I have to spend two weeks listening to your incessant lectures, I fear I’ll go insane. Out of courtesy, I have allowed you to rant and rave to your heart’s content today, but be forewarned that I will not tolerate such behavior again. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Indubitably.”

  Saber didn’t miss the twinkle in his friend’s bright blue eyes. As usual, it tempered his aggravation. “Addison, you are as incorrigible now as you were when we met.”

  “It was at some opera, was it not? We were twelve.”

  Saber smiled. “We were eleven, and it was at your mother’s birthday party.”

  “Ah, yes. You had filched Lord Warton’s snuffbox and put pepper in it. You swore me to secrecy.”

  “You stole his snuffbox and put pepper in it. You swore me to secrecy.”

  “Yes, I do believe you’re right. It was but the beginning of many pranks to come. It was then, too, that I gave you your nickname. I thought it rather clever, lifting ‘Saber’ from ‘Saberfield.’ “

  “I think it is rather unseemly.”

  “Now why doesn’t that surprise me, Your Grace? But you must admit, ‘Saber’ does suit you. You can be as cold and hard as steel. You’ve a sharp wit, you’re to the point, and your slashing anger can draw blood as well as any weapon I can think of.”

  “Are you trying to antagonize me again?”

  “I am merely indulging in what no one else in England would feel safe doing—pushing you beyond your limit. I confess to feeling a tremendous amount of pleasure at being cheeky in your presence and living to tell about it.”

  “You are implying that I am a beast?”

  “Say you nay to the charge, sir?”