Page 3 of Not His Usual Style (Diamonds of London #10)

Mayfair, London

England

Miss Victoria Amherst—Tori to her closest friends—sat in one of the comfortable leather, winged-back chairs in her father’s study, curled up with her legs tucked beneath her. As she consulted a leatherbound notebook in her lap, she glanced at her father.

“Once more, I feel the need to remind you that I am acting as your social secretary, Papa, so that means running through your schedule today.”

Again, because her father was a jeweler of some renowned skill to many of the rich and titled people within the ton , and he was somewhat absent minded, especially when working on a project.

Added to that fact, he was also Baron Irvington, which meant they were part of the beau monde , the very world in which he provided jewelry.

He waved a hand. “What does it matter? I am quite busy with the shop just now and don’t have the time to spare for society.”

“Be that as it may, you still have obligations.” Tori turned to a page in her notebook.

“Since it’s Monday, your week is clogged with client meetings.

There are three with potential customers who wish to design parures, and an additional four with people for final looks and fittings.

On Wednesday you have two repairs for settings that have come loose. ”

“Yes, I’m aware of all of those.”

Because he had certain skills when it came to designing jewelry and cutting gemstones, he and his assistant had renovated the downstairs parlor into an office and showroom of sorts where he would meet with clients in a more relaxed setting.

The actual work on the pieces happened at their shop in a small, cul-de-sac just off Fleet Street, called Nightingale Lane.

It consisted of only two rooms, the front or fitting room where there were some displays made of paste pieces to entice customers into the shop, and it was where the clients were fitted for their new jewelry as well as picking those items up once finished, repaired, or cleaned.

Then there was the back room of the shop where the jewelry was actually made and assembled.

Metals were manipulated there, gemstones were cut and polished, sometimes backed with foils to make them appear more brilliant under candlelight.

Pearls were strung, cameos carved, and whatever else a jeweler needed to do.

Sometimes her father and his assistant would work long into the night on pieces because it was what they both enjoyed doing.

“Are you also aware of the societal invitations you’ve accepted for the week?” she pressed as she consulted her notes. “The most urgent of which is the rout at Lord Dawson’s home tonight?”

That brought his head up, and for a moment, he stared at her with one eye while his other was behind a jeweler’s loupe. Then he apparently remembered he had the device strapped about his forehead and removed the leather strap, laying it on his desk.

“Right, and there is a reason for that.” After fumbling through the items that littered his desktop—pieces of jewelry, books, various velvet lined boxes, a few empty teacups—he perched a pair of round, silver-rimmed spectacles on the tip of his nose.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you about this very thing but somehow always become distracted. ”

Tori chuckled. “What you find fascinating with gemstones is beyond me.”

“Each one has different facets, like personalities, if you will, and when they are cut, it is even more obvious and beautiful. Just as you are among all the other women in the ton .” He grinned warmly at her, and for a moment, she remembered him as he’d been…

the loving father she’d known in her childhood, before gambling infected his blood and he’d lost most of the coin in their family coffers.

Before he became obsessed with his work in the hopes of rebuilding that wealth.

“Don’t be silly, Papa.”

“I’m entirely serious. You will turn nine and twenty later this year, and you remain unmatched.”

She blew out a breath that ruffled the escaped strands of blonde hair on her forehead. “Not this again.”

Ignoring her objection, her father continued.

“My darling, when you had your Come Out eight long years ago, you were a Diamond, and I loved that for you. You were an Incomparable. You had at least ten offers that year alone… but you wanted none of them. Traded every one of those titled men’s offers for the love of a no-name soldier. ”

A tide of hot anger rose in her chest. “His name was Louis, and you know it.” In some annoyance, Tori uncurled from the chair and thrust to her feet.

“He proposed, Papa. It wasn’t his fault that two months after that, when he returned to his place in the war, he was immediately killed in battle.

” The ache in her heart, though it had faded over the years, still managed to hurt and remind her of the loss.

She’d been a na?ve young woman of twenty with the world at her feet.

It hadn’t mattered that society had lauded her looks or the manners her mother had ingrained into her; she wanted the nondescript soldier she’d met at a rout and then found herself engaged six weeks later.

It had been a short-lived relationship, but it had been her first love… her only love. After that, she’d vowed not to give away her heart again, because it was fragile and painful when it broke.

“I realize that, my girl, but you do need to marry. You’ve had a handful of Seasons yet have turned up your nose at every man seeking a courtship.”

“Because none of them interested me or caused my heart to flutter.” And if she didn’t change her stance on that, her heart would never feel those things again.

“Ah, holding out for a title.” Before she could protest, he looked at her from over the rims of his spectacles. “Perhaps you should consider my assistant, Mr. Fowler.”

“What?” Surely, he wasn’t serious. “Mr. Fowler is a mousy little man who is afraid of his own shadow half the time. He keeps himself tucked away in the shop, and, excuse me for saying this, but he has nothing to recommend him outside of his jewelry making skills.”

“But he adores you, and he’s already spoken to me about paying his addresses.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I don’t care for him in that way.”

“You could if you give him a chance.”

“Papa, you know I love you, but in this I need to oppose your wishes.”

“You’re nearly on the shelf, my dear, and I want to make certain you are looked after in your future. Mr. Fowler might not be the most exciting or handsome of men, but he has a stable income, he’s a good man, and he will treat you well.”

And he is incredibly dull with no opinions of his own.

“I’m sure he will, but no thank you. When, or if, I enter into a relationship, I’ll do it on my terms. To my way of thinking, a man needs to be larger than life and willing to throw in his lot with a woman no matter what for however she needs him.

I’m afraid your assistant, if push came to shove, would prove a coward. ”

“That is quite a dim assessment of him. He is quite helpful as an assistant.”

“And there is nothing wrong with that. You can keep him, but as for me? A man will need to prove himself in a very unorthodox way before I’ll take notice of him.

” With a sigh, she consulted her notes once more.

“Now, back to your schedule tonight. Lord Dawson’s rout.

Remember, you like him well enough and the two of you can converse on the Roman pavement found not too far from his country estate in Devonshire. ”

“Ah, yes, he’s promised to let me tour it soon.”

Growing up with her father as a jeweler who’d been tapped to make pieces for some of the highest-ranking members of the beau monde , she knew much about jewels, metals, and how to tell real gems from fake—glass and paste—but her father’s tastes also ran to jewelry from the ancient world as well as any artifacts therein.

While that was lovely, her personal favorites came from France and Italy.

Especially those that stemmed from the royalty of both countries.

She had seen drawings of some pieces belonging to Marie Antoinette—allegedly—and she was anxious to see them in person.

There were so many diamonds that stemmed from that time in history.

How breathtaking would it be to see them with her own eyes?

“Then tonight would be perfect for you to remind him of that fact.” Making a notation on her page, she looked at her father. “I’ve asked your valet to have your evening attire pressed.”

He nodded. “Dawson’s wife sent me a letter mentioning the clasp on one of her bracelets is loose. I’ll bring my tools.”

Clearly, he had missed the point of such an evening. Tamping down on the urge to huff in frustration, Tori said, “That is hardly the purpose of a rout, Papa.”

“Business and pleasure.” He shrugged and his attention turned once more to the papers on his desk. “Why not?”

This time she did huff. “I don’t want you going to the card tables, either. We are barely managing to keep this household running as it is.”

Guilt reflected in his expression. “I’ve mucked things up, haven’t I?”

It would be kinder to lie, but it did have an impact on her own future.

“You have, quite honestly. It makes things difficult.” Already, there wasn’t enough coin to offer a dowry, which limited her options, and since she was her father’s only offspring, the title of baron would go to one of her distant second cousins, wherever they were.

His eyes brightened. “You know, if you were to marry a rich man…”

A wave of hot annoyance rose in her chest as she snapped her notebook closed. “I shouldn’t have to pay for your sins.” That wasn’t fair, and she refused to offer her life, her freedom, her future, up for that sacrifice.

“While I agree in theory, the reality is far sadder and more sobering.”