Diamonds and Dreams (21 page)

Saber straightened, realizing his breath was
coming in ragged heaves. He’d done nothing but kiss her wrist and
arm, yet the slight contact had filled him with desire. He gazed
down at her.

Bright moonlight spilled all over her. It
painted her gown, and the sheerness of her night rail became
apparent to him. He could see little more than the outline of her
tiny body, but the sight was enough. He burned with a longing so
great, he could think of no remedy for it.

None but one.

He pulled her into his arms again. Goldie
felt his hands pushing at her lower back, urging her closer to him.
She’d never been held this way before. Never experienced such
intimacy. Nor had she ever sensed such desperation in any man. She
longed to respond to it. Yearned to show him her emotions matched
his.

But she didn’t know the way. Had no idea
even how to begin. “Saber,” she entreated softly, nervously,
“I—Tell me what to say to you. What to do to you.”

He was struck. Not by confusion, or
amusement. No, not even by the rising passion. It was tenderness
that thrummed through him. How it filled him, seeking and finding
buried emotion within him. Her plea was so dear to him, he wished
he could find a way to capture and keep it about him for always.
She thought not of what would please
her
, but what would
please
him
.

It was the most unselfish thing anyone had
ever said to him.

He knew she didn’t know what she was
offering him, yet she extended it freely, honestly, and perhaps
most importantly, with all the innocence and trust in the world.
And that precious gift was not to be abused, he realized.

The thought caused him to take a step away
from her. “Goldie,” he began, lifting a flaxen curl from the corner
of her eye, “you’ve said much. Done much. I ask nothing more than
what you’ve already given.”

Picking up her hand again, he pressed a last
kiss to her wrist, then swept her into his arms. Looking deeply
into her amber eyes, he saw a bereft expression in them. “Smile for
me, Goldie,” he beseeched her, his voice little more than a
whisper.

Her confusion and dismay faded. She had no
clue to his thoughts, no hint of his reasons for concluding the
encounter. But she no longer cared. The tender glow in his seaweed
eyes was all that mattered. Placing her palm on his cheek, she
smiled for him.

She knew she’d never experienced a night as
wonderful as this one. Even if the time with Saber were to end
tomorrow, she’d live on the wonderful memories for the rest of her
life. One thought of them would wash away anything bad that might
ever happen to her.

As Saber began the trek back to the mansion,
she curled her arms around his neck, resting her cheek upon his
chest. She felt safe, warm, and happy in his strong embrace.

And for the first time in many years, she
allowed herself to feel cherished.

Absently, Dane stared at the ceiling of the
elegant master bedroom, one hand fondling the plump mass of Dora
Mashburn’s breast, the other holding a letter from William Doyle.
William would be coming to Ravenhurst soon. Dane was anxious to see
him, for William was a good friend. William handled everything so
that Dane had little to do but relax and enjoy the life of a
gentleman. Yes, Dane mused, William understood things. He
comprehended the fact that Dane deserved all the respect and wealth
afforded to the nobility.

He smiled, glancing at the letter again.
William was in Cornwall now, buying copper mines. Not for Tremayne,
but with Tremayne money. Dane laughed, thinking of the fortune
William was amassing for them.

“Wot’s funny?” Dora asked, wishing she could
read. Purring, she pushed her hips rhythmically against his bare
leg.

“I beg your pardon?” Dane snapped.

“Wot’s funny,
milord
,” Dora corrected
herself.

Dane tossed the letter to the bedside table.
“Many things are funny. Many things are sad, too.” He sighed
deeply, pondering a great sorrow. “She hurt me. I was going to
allow her to share her charms with me. Yes, I was going to do her
that honor. I would have made her my lady. But she did not realize
who I am. Didn’t recognize my supreme authority. Why didn’t she?
That’s a very upsetting thing for me to think of.”

Dora listened to him sigh again, knowing
exactly how to alleviate his sadness. The cure was just as
wonderful to her as it was to him. “Close yer eyes, milord,” she
urged. “Close ’em, an’ I’ll be yer lady.”

Excited, Dane shut his eyes, bringing the
image of a delicate face to mind. Concentrating on it, he reached
for Dora, lifting her atop his own body. “Milady,” he whispered,
smoothing kisses on her neck.

Dora began touching him all over, until he
was ready for her. She moaned when he slid into her. “Yes, milord,”
she cooed. “I’m yer lady. Lady Hutchins.”

“More,” Dane groaned. “Tell me more, my
dearest lady.”

Dora knew the words by heart. “I love ya.
I’ll spend the rest o’ me life lovin’ ya. I’m yers, milord. Now.
Tomorrow. Ferever. I’m yer lady.”

Dane exploded inside her. Many long moments
passed before his pleasure subsided. When it did, he opened his
eyes, frowning when it was Dora’s face he saw. “Get off!”

She complied instantly. It was always like
this, but she didn’t care. She lived for the sweet moments when she
could be his lady.

Peering at him through her stubby lashes,
she renewed her vow to become his lady in reality. Nothing would
spoil her chances of making that dream come true.

* * *

Goldie sat and kicked off her slippers. Like
little green swords, thick, stiff grass stuck up between her toes.
“Y’know, Saber,” she began, scratching Itchie Bon’s head, “it’s
gonna be kinda lonesome here without Addison, Winston, Kenneth, and
David. I reckon I got kinda used to ’em bein’ around.”

Her gaze darted to him, then left him just
as quickly. She’d been stealing glances at him all morning, each
swift stare sending thrills rolling through her.

Memories of last night spun into her mind.
The two of them hidden in that romantic, moonlit tangle of
bushes...his lips on her wrist...his body pressing close, so close,
to hers... And it hadn’t been her imagination either, she reminded
herself. The dream had been real. Another wave of happiness
splashed over her.

“You gonna miss ’em too?” she asked
absently, daring just one more glance at him and enjoying the heady
sensation it brought.

Stretched out beside her on the lawn, Saber
twirled a blade of grass between his fingers. Goldie’s voice, like
the tender melody of a song, played through his mind. She really
had a lovely voice, he mused. So sweet, so soft.

At the thought, he dragged his fingers
through his hair. He’d dwelled on it all night, deciding that
whatever strange pull existed between them, he had to find the
strength to fight it. To hurt Goldie... God, the very idea made him
ill. Furthermore, he cautioned himself,
he
had no need, no
room, indeed, no desire for an emotional relationship in his life
anyway.

He would read the diaries, look for evidence
against Hutchins and Doyle, then do for Goldie what he’d tried to
do for Delia. The charade had to end. He would end it as quickly as
possible and think no more about it. The diamond, he remembered
bitterly, belonged in the city. With all its walls.

The dandelion needed her open fields. “Where
her wishing seeds can drift without hindrance,” he said softly.

“What’s that about seeds, Saber?”

He looked up at her. The pure innocence
radiating from her amber eyes told him he was doing the right
thing. “I didn’t say
seeds
. I said
leave
. The boys
had to leave. They couldn’t stay—”

“Yeah, I understand about jobs. Addison said
they all had to get back to work.”

Saber threw the blade of grass into the
breeze. What a perfectly outlandish lie Addison had spun for
Goldie, he mused. Jobs. The earls of Aurora Hills, Dryden, Barclay,
and Meadsborough
working
for a living? Saber subdued the
urge to roll his eyes at the absurdity. “Am I not sufficient
company for you, poppet?” he asked, absently watching a glint of
sunlight dance through her hair.

She looked down at him. “Poppet?”

“What?”

“Poppet. You called me a poppet. What is
that?”

The endearment had escaped him
inadvertently, and that angered him instantly. What had come over
him, that he broke a vow only seconds after having renewed it? “You
didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, you’re enough company for me. Now
what’s a poppet?”

Blast it all! Saber thought furiously. What
a morning this had been thus far! First he’d dealt with his
friends’ jests, raised brows, and knowing glances before seeing
them off. What did they think? That he would
marry
Goldie
once they were gone? And that breakfast Big made...what a bit of
diversion that had been. He’d never before eaten eggs that bounced
off his plate when he tried to cut them.

And the diaries, he thought irritably.
Goldie had made no mention of them this morning, and he couldn’t
think of a way to coerce her into showing them to him. They were,
after all,
diaries
, and as such personal and private.
Granted, they weren’t Goldie’s, but she might not be willing to
allow him to read her aunt’s secret thoughts.

And now he’d called her a poppet. A sweet
name reserved for someone for whom one felt affection. There was
only one girl he’d ever called that before, and she’d been lost to
him for five years.

“Poppet is just a name, Goldie. A name
for...a small girl...or a little doll, or the like.”

Goldie’s contentment vanished.
A small
girl
, she repeated silently.
A little doll.
Oh, how she
hated being so tiny! So flat-chested! Saber was right. She
did
look like a doll. A childish doll.

When she hung her head and began twiddling
her thumbs, Saber realized she was dismayed. Could it be that she
thought the name ‘poppet’ was derisive? “Goldie, dolls are... Don’t
you think dolls are nice?”

She forced herself to nod, but continued to
look at her lap. “I have a doll,” she told him, trying her very
best to sound nonchalant. “Uncle Asa gave it to me.”

Saber seized the opportunity to change the
subject. He decided he’d listen to her tales about her uncle, then
gradually lead the conversation to the diaries. “Tell me about
him.”

She sighed heavily, a reaction not lost on
Saber. “Well, Uncle Asa’s my daddy’s brother. But Daddy didn’t
drink or get into trouble. Daddy was the most honest soul in all
the world. That’s why when I swear to somethin’, I say ‘Daddy’s
honor.’ “

Her earlier contentment returned. Thoughts
of her parents often performed the feat of changing her gloom into
cheerfulness. “Lightnin’ will strike me if I ever lie against
Daddy’s honor. Not that I would though, Saber,” she informed him,
grinning.

Saber noted the rapid change of her mood.
Her tears dried with the arrival of her smile; her smile
disappeared upon the trickle of her tears. It wasn’t easy keeping
up with her. “Ah, I see. Daddy’s honor.” What a charming oath, he
mused.

She sat up straight, curling her arms around
herself. “I didn’t know Mama or Daddy for very long, but I remember
’em both. Mama was from Georgia, and Daddy was from Alabama. I was
born in both states. I bet you don’t know anybody else who can say
somethin’ like that, do you?”

There was laughter in her eyes, and he
wondered if she was teasing him. “How could you have been born in
two states?”

Her grin broadened. “Well, when Mama and
Daddy got married, they both wanted to live in their home states.
Instead of havin’ a fight over it, Daddy built our house right on
the state line. When I was born, Mama’s birthin’ bed laid right
over that boundary. The left side of me was born in Georgia, and my
right came out in Alabama. My birth papers say I was born in
Georgia though. Daddy let Mama have her way on that since she was
the one who did all the work gettin’ me into the world.”

Saber looked at the ground and chuckled. The
story of her birth was quite feasible, but it was outrageous at the
same time. And that described Goldie herself too, he decided. There
were some things about her that were common and familiar. And yet
she was unique. He couldn’t understand how it was possible to be
ordinary and unique at once, but could think of no other way to
describe her. “The little person called Goldie,” he murmured,
bringing his gaze back up to hers. “You’re right. I don’t know
anyone but you who can say they were born in two places. And it
sounds as though your parents were special people to have come to
such a fair agreement concerning your birth.”

She wiggled her toes into the grass again.
“Yeah, they were real special. One of the things I remember best
about ’em was how they always talked about their troubles together.
There wasn’t a problem in the world they couldn’t solve when they
shared ideas with each other. It was real nice when they were
alive, Saber. They hardly ever got mad at me about anything. Well,
one time Mama had to scold me when I got too near to Daddy when he
was sick. He never got well. Died two days later. Mama went purty
soon after that. Uncle Asa was there visitin’, and I’ve been with
him ever since. He—”

She looked up at the sky. “There’s good in
him. I’ve seen it and felt it. He always says he’s sorry. So when
he’s in one of his mean, hollerin’ moods, I try—It’s only when he’s
drunk. He says he’s sorry, Saber.”

He felt as though she was trying to convince
herself as well as him. Compassion for her blossomed inside him. No
one had ever mistreated him, and he couldn’t understand what it was
like to have to deal with that. “What kinds of things does he say
to you when he’s in one of his mean moods?”