Diamonds and Dreams

by Rebecca Paisley

  Rosie smiled and turned back to Goldie, noticing a sad expression in her friend’s eyes. “Let’s go upstairs, luv,” she said, taking Goldie’s hand.

  Once in Goldie’s bedroom, Rosie sashayed to Goldie’s big, plush bed, and made herself comfortable upon it. She waited for Goldie to speak to her, but when Goldie remained silent, she started the conversation herself. “Ya remember Og Drit, Goldie? The bloke wot was botherin’ us the day I met ya? The man won’t be pesterin’ nobody no more. ’E’s dead. Somebody bloody well slit ’is throat.”

  Goldie sauntered to the window again, peering down at the street below.

  “Goldie? Ya ’ear wot I said?”

  “I’ve been doin’ some hard thinkin’, Rosie,” Goldie said softly. She breathed on the windowpane, drawing the letter “S” in the circle of fog her breath had left there. “I’ve been here in London a long time. I reckon Big’s worked himself into a frenzy by now, wonderin’ what the hell’s keepin’ me. And great day Miss Agnes, there’s no tellin’ what Uncle Asa’s been up to.”

  Rosie realized the significance of her friend’s statement but refused to accept it. “Ya ain’t thinkin’ about goin’ back ter ‘Allensham, are ya, Goldie? Wot about Saber? Iffen ya takes ’im to ’Allensham an’ lets ’im play the duke, ya ain’t never goin’ ter see ’im again. Ya said yerself that once them villagers see ’im, ’e can’t never go back there again. ’E said he bloomin’ loves ya! Are ya jest goin’ ter let ’im leave yer life like that? Gawblimey, Goldie, don’t tell me ya still don’t believe the man cares fer ya!”

  Goldie turned from the window, ambled to her dressing table, and picked up her gold brush. Every memory she had of Saber, starting from the day she met him, filtered through her mind. “I didn’t at first, but... Y’know, Rosie, he’s never done anything mean to me. And he likes my hair and freckles.”

  “An’ yer gold eyes. An’ ’e don’t mind yer bein’ real little, neither,” Rosie reminded her.

  Goldie looked down at the beautiful gown she was wearing. “And someone likes me enough to have sent me all the gifts. If one man can feel like that, I reckon—Well, maybe Saber can too. Maybe he really meant it when he said he loved me.”

  Rosie smiled a sad smile. She understood how hard it was for Goldie to believe Saber could love her, and said a quick prayer that Goldie would soon completely trust the love Saber offered. “So wot are ya goin’ ter do, luv? Will ya still takes ’im ter ’Allensham?”

  Goldie sighed heavily. “That’s the problem. If I take him, of course he’ll have to leave. And I couldn’t go with him because someone has to see to Uncle Asa. I can’t let Big do it forever. And if I don’t take him, we’ll all get tossed out of town just like we always do. Oh, Rosie, what am I gonna do?”

  She plopped into a chair, blowing curls out of her face again. “Y’know, I might have been little when my parents were alive, but I remember how they always got their problems solved. I told you the story about how they both wanted to live in their home states and eventually came to an agreement by livin’ on top of the state line. See? Not even a big problem like that was too much for ’em. They came up with an answer. But I guess none of that problem-solvin’ of theirs rubbed off on me. Maybe I just wasn’t with ’em long enough to learn how they did it.”

  Rosie ran her roughened palm over the satin coverlet. “But they ’ad each other, luv. Iffen one ’ad a problem, t’other ’elped solve it. I remember me own mum an’ da, God rest their souls. Sometimes they’d stay up all night talkin’ about their troubles. There weren’t no kind o’ problem—no matter ’ow bad it was—wot they couldn’t solve together, there weren’t. That’s one o’ the best things about ’avin’ a mate, an’ I sure ’ope I gets me a good one someday.”

  Goldie nodded, looking at the rug. “Yeah, that’s a good thing about havin’ a mate. You’re never alone with your—” She lifted her head up. A flame of hope warmed her heart. “Rosie,” she whispered, pausing for a long moment. “I—I don’t have to be alone. I mean...I do have someone who might could help me figure out what to do. He’s not my mate, but...”

  “Yer friend Big?”

  Goldie picked up a yellow curl, winding it around her finger and tugging on it nervously. “No, not Big.” She stood and began to pace, still fiddling with her curl. “He’s never lied to me, Rosie. I can’t think of a single time when he’s been dishonest with me. And—And I do sorta think he likes me a lot. He...might even—Like I said, maybe he even loves me a little bit.”

  She stopped at the bed, taking hold of one of the bedposts. “I’ll swannee, I’ve been so dumb! My mama had my daddy, and he had her. Your parents had each other too, and—Rosie, I’ve got Saber!”

  “Wot—”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before! Great day Miss Agnes, here I’ve been mopin’ around, worryin’ myself into a fit as if Saber didn’t have anything at all to do with it! And—” Her eyes widened as a new thought burst into her spinning mind. “Oh, Rosie,” she murmured.

  “Oh, Goldie,” Rosie echoed. “Tell me wot the bleedin’ ’ell yer talkin’ about!”

  “I reckon it’s really true,” Goldie exclaimed, laughing into her hands. “I trust him! When and how it happened—Who knows? Who cares?” She flew to the window. “Where the hell is that man? Oh, Rosie, how am I gonna be able to stand it until he gets home! What if he stays gone for hours, and—”

  “Goldie! Ya ain’t makin’ no sense! I can’t—”

  “But it’s so simple, Rosie! My problems aren’t just mine! Saber’s in on ’em too! So why the hell have I been tryin’ to do all the decision-makin’ by myself? He’s the smartest man I’ve ever come across. And a man that smart... Y’see, what I don’t think of, he might. And what he doesn’t think of, I might. Surely if we talk about all this together, we’ll figure somethin’ out!”

  “Coo, Goldie! Yer right!”

  Goldie smiled a faraway smile. “Trust.” The word felt beautiful to say. “‘Course I don’t understand everything there is to know about love, but one thing I know is that a big part of it is trust. The two go together like...like biscuits and molasses! Who would ever eat biscuits without molasses, Rosie? ‘Cept ole Feenie Spackle back in Koonce Cove, Virginia. Molasses made her lips swell up. They’d swell up s’bad, she couldn’t even talk. And Feenie loved to talk. Sometimes her mama’d pour molasses down her throat just to shut her up.”

  Rosie had no idea what molasses were, but laughed anyway. “Ya got offen the subject a bit, luv, but ya know wot yer sayin’? Goin’ on an’ on about ‘ow ya trusts Saber, an’ ‘ow trust an’ love go together...”

  Rosie’s meaning found fertile ground. Goldie’s eyes widened again. Astonishment touched each part of her. “My diamond dreams,” she whispered.

  At the look of awe in her friend’s eyes, Rosie smiled. “I’ll leaves ya now, Goldie,” she said, hopping off the bed. “Looks to me like ya got some thinkin’ ter do afore ya talk to yer Saber. An’ it’s almost dark, anyway. Iffen I don’t starts fer ’ome now, it’ll be midnight afore I get there. Anything ya wants me ter do fer ya afore I leave?”

  Goldie stared at her friend. “Yes,” she said softly. “If you’ve got any faith at all in the Dream Giver, Rosie, put in a good word to Him for me. I need all the good words I can get because what I’m askin’ from Him is the biggest diamond dream of ’em all.”

  * * *

  Jillian sank into a garnet velvet chair in her parlor, her glacial blue eyes never leaving Saber. He was standing in the middle of the room, his coat still on, his hat and gloves still in his hands. “Why?”

  He returned her direct look, thinking about how tall she was. He decided she was too tall for a woman. “Jillian, please try to understand. I never made any promises to you. You accepted our relationship for exactly what it was, did you not?”

  Her eyes hardened. “No! I was to be your duchess!”

  He noticed the generous display of her breasts and the deep, shadowed valley between
them. God, he thought. They looked like flesh-colored watermelons. “No, Jillian, you were not to be my duchess, and you never once heard me say that you would.”

  “But you love me!”

  “No,” he said as gently as he knew how. I love my poppet called Goldie.

  Jillian clutched her silk skirt tightly, gathering her emotions. “But you showed me you loved me. In many ways.”

  Saber exhaled slowly. “Jillian, why do you insist on making this harder than it has to be?”

  “But—But you—Marion, you were going to give me everything I wanted! You were! I know you were!”

  He glared at her, thinking about the drastic differences between her and Goldie. Jillian took it for granted that she deserved the world and everything in it. Goldie found it almost impossible to believe she’d received a few gowns and some trinkets.

  “It’s someone else, isn’t it, Marion?” Jillian demanded. “You’ve a new mistress to warm your bed! You’ve been with her during the many weeks you’ve been gone! You’ve been in Scotland with her! Why—Why, she’s the writer from America I’ve heard about, isn’t she!”

  Saber raised his chin. “I’ve said what I came to say. I regret any distress I may have caused you, but as I said, I never made any promises to you. Any assumptions you made were entirely your own.”

  Jillian rose and crossed to him. “But I love you, Marion,” she whispered, great tears slipping down her face.

  Saber shook his head. “Jillian, you love my fortune. My title. Beyond those things—”

  “No! Marion, I love—”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “How can you say that? Why, I knew you even before Angelica did! I’ve known you for almost ten years! I’ve—”

  “Did you know I used to make dandelion stew? Did you know that I had a tree house? Did you know that I collected rocks and made yellow paint from pollen? Did you know that I could whistle with two fingers in my mouth? Did you know I was once afraid of thunder? Jillian,” he said, taking a step away from her, “did it ever occur to you that there is a common man beneath the nobleman?”

  “A common man? Marion, you are not a commoner! You’re the Duke of Ravenhurst!”

  He smiled a bittersweet smile. “And to you, Jillian, that is all I’ve ever been and all I ever will be.”

  Sensing defeat, she pressed her body close to his again, counting on her ample charms to win him back. “This new woman in your life, Marion...this American—Does she make you feel the way I do?” she purred, slipping her arms around his neck and flicking her tongue along his jawbone. “Does she know all the tricks that I do? Tell me, my darling diamond duke, does she heat your blood the way I do?”

  Her heavy rose-scented perfume was sickeningly sweet to him. He couldn’t understand why he’d once found it so intriguing. Nor could he comprehend why he’d thought her so incredibly sensual. He felt nothing at all for her now. “Good-bye, Jillian.” He removed her hands from around his neck, turned, and left her standing there.

  When she heard the front door close, fiery anger shot through her. “No, Marion,” she hissed. “There will never be a good-bye between us. You did promise to make me your duchess. Your vow was unspoken, true, but you swore in a thousand ways. Every time you kissed me, I heard your pledge. Every time you held me, made love to me, I felt you give me your word. And if it is the last thing I do on earth, I will hold you to your troth.”

  * * *

  As Saber stepped inside the house and handed his coat, hat, and gloves to Bennett, he noticed the vase of blackened roses in the foyer. “Why are those in here?”

  “Miss Rosie Tetter brought them this afternoon, sir. I was going to dispose of them, but Miss Mae asked me to leave them here for a few days in case Miss Tetter should return. She doesn’t want her friend’s feelings hurt. I—If you don’t mind me saying so, sir, Miss Mae is really one of the kindest persons I’ve ever had the good fortune to know.”

  At Bennett’s words, Saber warmed with pride. “She is at that,” he agreed, heading for the staircase. Taking the steps three at a time, he reached the upper landing and walked toward Goldie’s bedroom, his quick, confident stride evidence of his exhilaration. Not only had he gotten the ordeal with Jillian over and done with, but he’d also stopped by the jeweler’s and received good news from the man. The ring would be ready early tomorrow evening. By tomorrow night, Goldie might very well be his intended, the future Duchess of Ravenhurst. That thought was uppermost in his mind as he arrived at her open door.

  She was sitting on the edge of her bed. He lost his breath when he saw her. Her flaxen curls lay in wild disarray upon the shoulders of her deep green gown, making him think of pure, sweet sunshine pouring down on a carpet of grass. He loved the contrast of the beautiful colors.

  “Poppet,” he greeted her, his entire body aching to rush in and sweep her into his arms.

  Goldie looked up from the lacy bonnet she held in her lap and saw him standing in the threshold. He looked devilishly handsome in his snug black pants and ivory cambric shirt. Sable curls framed his face, one of them touching the corner of his eye. And he was smiling that crooked, boyish grin she so loved to see.

  She longed to jump off the bed, throw herself into his arms, and tell him about all the wonderful discoveries she’d made earlier. But remembering the stern lecture the aunties had given her a while ago, and recalling also that the two women were just down the hall, she struggled to subdue the urge. Instead, she lifted her chin, trying to contain her wild impatience. “Saber, I need to talk to you.”

  He recognized her attempt at propriety and decided to see if he could coerce her out of it. “Indeed. Tell me, Goldie love, is talking all you’d like to do with me?”

  His question jolted her with desire. “Saber, please be serious. I really do need to talk to you.”

  “As you wish.” He put his foot forward.

  “Not here! Miss Lucy and Miss Clara were just in here, and they said I can’t let you in—”

  “Saber!” Clara exclaimed as she arrived. “What are you doing in Goldie’s bedroom?”

  He stiffened. “I’m not in her bedroom. I’m standing in the hall, to my knowledge, that is not a breach of etiquette.”

  “We were only talkin’!” Goldie added loudly.

  Clara raised a brow. “You may talk tomorrow. It is getting late, Goldie. A proper young lady should be preparing to retire, and a gentleman,” she said to Saber, “should allow her privacy in order to do so. Say good night to Goldie, Saber, and then go do whatever it is you do at this hour. I shall return shortly with Margaret.” With that, she left.

  Saber waited until his aunt disappeared, then turned back to Goldie. “We can talk for a few moments. I would, however, prefer to be closer to you while we converse.”

  She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Lord, it had been so long. Oh, to feel him close to her! “I—Saber, you—Miss Clara and Miss Lucy have been so good to me. I get ill sometimes with all the lessons about bein’ so proper, but Saber, I just couldn’t disappoint ’em. I—You can’t come in here.”

  “Very well, then you come to me.”

  She was afraid of what his nearness would do to her. Surely the feel of him next to her would send her over the brink of control. “No. You’ll do somethin’ you’re not supposed to do. I’m tellin’ you, Saber, Miss Lucy and Miss Clara are gonna bring Margaret in just a minute!”

  Quickly, he glanced toward both ends of the hall, grinning when he didn’t see either one of the sharp-beaked mother hens. “They’re not coming yet. Let’s...uh, talk.”

  She heard the sensual tone in his voice. Her desire rose. “You’re not in the mood for just plain talkin’, Saber.”

  “No?” he asked, chuckling. “Then pray tell, what kind of mood am I in, Goldie love?”

  “You know damn well what mood. You just want to hear me say it.”

  “True. Say it.”

  “No.”

  “Look, Goldie, I’m here for very important
reasons. I want to put my arms around you. I want to kiss you. I want to feel your body next to mine. Goldie,” he said huskily, “I want to make love—”

  “Great day Miss Agnes, Saber!”

  “I’m not doing those things, poppet. I’m only telling you I want to do them.”

  Heat flowed through her senses. He was looking at her with dark, hooded eyes that saw right through her. Good Lord, she thought. She had to get him out of here before improper things happened between them! “Saber, you have to leave my—”

  “But what about talking?” he asked naughtily, his smile crooked.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow just like Miss Clara said,” she told him, hating to wait that long, but knowing full well she had no other choice. “And while we’re talkin’, you can hold my hand if you want, but that’s all. Miss Lucy and Miss Clara said I can’t let you do anything else but that. I reckon you can’t even kiss my wrist anymore.”

  Saber fought with the irritation he felt for his aunties. They’d certainly done their work well, the two busybodies. “But you like it when I kiss your wrist. When I start close to your palm and go slowly up your arm.”

  Goldie felt passion set her cheeks aflame. “You are so bad, Saber West.”

  “True. But tell me in all honesty that you don’t like it when I’m bad, and I’ll become the most gentlemanly gentleman you’d ever hope to encounter.”

  Though he was teasing her, she saw the hunger in his eyes. She watched as that sensual gaze of his meandered from her face to her breasts. It lingered there. Flustered, Goldie laid her hand upon the plunging neckline of her velvet gown. “This isn’t a proper dress for wearin’ around the house. But—Well, I like this one the best. I was just tryin’ it on, y’see. I’m not wearin’ it for real.”

  At the sight of her fingers trembling over the lovely swells of her breasts, Saber smiled knowingly. “Why is that one your favorite, poppet?”