Page 11 of The Diamond's Absolutely Delicious Downfall

“Joan, have you ever had a sweetheart?”

It was a very personal question to ask one lady’s maid, but she had known Joan for years. Given her circumstances, perhaps it was precisely the right thing to ask.

Joan smoothed out Juliet’s gown and then placed it in the armoire. She came over with a robe of teal silk embroidered with lilacs. “What a question my lady,” tsked Joan.

“Please,” Juliet leaned forward, bracing her hands on her night rail-covered knees. “I’m most serious.”

Joan rolled her eyes and spread out the robe. “Of course, I’ve had a sweetheart. I’ve had more than one,” she replied with a merry glance. Joan blew out a sigh. “The truth is I had quite a different life before I came into this household, my lady.”

Juliet stood and held out her arms so that Joan could help her into the silk garment.

Then she adjusted her hair and marveled, “Did you?”

Joan helped tie the gown at the waist. “Of course. And you know it, my lady.”

She sat back down on the delicate chair before her mirror, eyeing Joan with admiration. “I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have a sweetheart.”

Joan smiled, taking up the silver hairbrush. “Well, soon you’ll be married, my lady, and then you’ll know.”

“No, no, not like that,” Juliet countered. “Marriage in the ton is very different.”

Joan nodded, took a section of Juliet’s long hair, and began to brush it. “It’s a business arrangement, my lady.”

“Yes, exactly. How do you know, Joan?”

Joan brushed her hair gently and tsked. “Do you think I have no ears? Do you think I do not understand?”

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Forgive me,” Juliet rushed. “How rude of me. I didn’t mean to imply—”

“It’s all right, my lady,” Joan assured, her mob cap trembling atop her own dark curls. “I’m not from your class. I never have been, and I never will be. And frankly, I don’t wish to. It’s all a strange state. The money seems very nice, but it doesn’t seem to make most of the ton happier. Your family is the only exception to the rule that I can see. And now perhaps the Earl of Drexel and Lady Hermia.”

“Yes,” Juliet breathed, holding still lest Joan pull at her hair. “You are not mistaken.”

Joan shook her head, growing most serious. “You wish to go and marry into a miserable family! Insisting on the grandest title over all else.”

“That is not at all what I want.” Juliet protested indignantly. She tried to whip around, but Joan took her shoulders and turned her back to the mirror.

“It is,” Joan returned firmly. “All you are interested in is a business arrangement.”

Her heart sank. “But that’s the way the ton does things!”

Joan paused and leaned forward, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “It’s not the way your mother does things,” Joan pointed out.

Juliet looked away, sadness swallowing her up. Joan was not wrong. “Please let us not discuss that. You know why I feel I must—”

“Yes, yes,” Joan cut in. “You wish to be your mother’s pride and joy. You wish to show the world, and yet here you are asking me if I’ve had a sweetheart, which makes me think that you have one right now.”

Juliet sat straighter in her chair.

“The American,” whispered Joan, waggling her dark brows. “I saw him from the window. Goodness gracious. What a specimen that fellow is!”

“He is remarkable, isn’t he?” Juliet allowed at last.

Joan grinned wickedly. “I’d have that one in my bed in a trice if it was the old days.”

“Joan!” Juliet exclaimed.

“What of it, my lady?” Joan teased. “I’m simply speaking the truth, which is clearly what you want from me.”

“Truly, you’d take him to bed?” Juliet whispered.

Joan nodded. “But I’m not a grand lady, waiting to make a grand match. But you liked his kiss?”

Juliet brought her hands to her hot cheeks and nodded. “I find that I want to know what comes next. And I fear that with the man that I must marry, I shall never know that same feeling ever again.”

“You mightn’t,” Joan warned carefully.

“Don’t say that,” Juliet lamented. “You’re not supposed to say that. You’re supposed to assure me that it will be wonderful with my husband.”

Joan let out a laugh that was half a groan before she said in all seriousness, “I cannot do such a thing, my lady. Because quite frankly, what I have seen is that very much like the marriage itself, what goes on in the bedroom is also a business affair for the ton. It’s just about getting an heir, and then they go off and have affairs to have their pleasure.” Joan made a face. “It’s not very nice.”

Juliet groaned and wiped her hand over her face, dismayed and lost. “Yes, I suppose you are right. So what would you do if you were me?”

Joan’s eyes widened to the size of twin saucers. “Me, my lady?”

She nodded.

Joan opened her mouth, then stopped as she gave it real consideration. Her own cheeks turned a delightful cherry hue. “Well, it depends on what you truly want.”

Juliet folded her arms across her chest, determined to stay resolved in her plans. “You know what I want.”

“A grim marriage to powerful man.”

“Joan!”

Joan patted her shoulders. “All right. Steady on, my lady. Is it perchance your secret wish to have a last bit of fun before you go off and do your duty?” Joan leaned forward and whispered, “Because if that’s the case, well, I wouldn’t linger long. I’d go and find the gentleman, and I’d enjoy him without hesitation.”

There was that word again. Fun.

It felt like everyone was conspiring to get her with the American, but surely they understood that even if she was with him, it would be for a very brief period of time. She worried her lower lip before admitting, “I don’t know if I want to use him in such a way.”

“You? Use him?” Joan nearly choked on a laugh as she finished brushing her hair. “Gentlemen are always using ladies thus, and I doubt he shall complain of it. Has he asked you to marry him?”

“No,” Juliet allowed. “And he’s certainly given me no indication that he would want an English woman for his wife. I’m sure that would be very difficult. He seems to be a man of some importance in the United States.”

Joan gave a firm nod. “There you go then. It will be a mutual understanding of pleasure.”

Juliet pressed her face into her hands. “You are encouraging me,” she groaned against her fingers.

“I know,” Joan said, “but your family is different. If I was in a house where young ladies were not allowed to know a single thing about what happens between a gentleman and a lady, well, then I would say something quite different. But your mother and your brothers live as they please. Even Hermia lives as she pleases. Perdita lives as she pleases. And Juliet, you’re the only one who seems to wish to live by the rules.”

Juliet lifted her face from her hands. “It has served me well. I am the diamond of the Season.”

Joan knelt down beside her and took her hands in her own. “You are. It’s true. But you don’t seem happy for it.”

“Happy?” Juliet repeated, trying to make sense of what that even meant. “I’m not trying to be happy.”

Joan squeezed her hands. “But why don’t you have a little happiness before you throw it all away?”

“A little happiness,” she repeated, trying to convince herself she should have such a thing.

“Now is the perfect opportunity,” Joan assured. “Just for a few days with your mother and your brother and Perdita away, and your other brothers always out on the town.”

It was true. It was almost shocking how they’d been thrown together.

“You two are almost entirely alone, save for the servants,” convinced Joan.

“He’s supposed to be working on something for my brother,” she pointed out.

“Surely a man like that is capable enough to manage more than one task.”

Juliet laughed. “Yes, he is.”

Joan stood and returned to the armoire, arranging the last of the evening’s things. “Then why not?” Joan whispered before she slipped out of the chamber.

Why not indeed?

This sort of phrase kept coming up, whether it be from her aunt or from Joan. Was this the best decision? To throw herself at pleasure before resigning herself to a life of duty?

Yes. It seemed the best way. And it was almost as if fate had arranged it for her. Her mother and her older brother and Perdita had left to go see Hermia in the country this very day.

Hermia was with child, and her mother and the duke wanted to make sure that everything was going as it should and lend their support to her. It had been quite a surprise for them to leave so suddenly. But they’d received the news from Hermia only late this afternoon, and her mother had not wanted to waste a moment.

Now, here she was all but alone in the house.

She’d expected the American to go off with her brothers, raking it about the town. But he had not. He’d stayed. He was in his chambers working with his printing press.

She fidgeted at her dressing table, playing with her nightgown, playing with the robe over it until, at last, she forced herself up rapidly.

She was not a coward. She had never fidgeted before, and she would not allow herself to start becoming the sort of individual who did. No! She seized life boldly and grandly. Bold people went off to visit their aunts at the theater. Bold people went after the best marriages they possibly could.

And well, she would not allow herself to be fearful in this either. She’d be bold.

She’d felt his call. It was impossible to ignore. She’d been feeling it since the theater. And so, she strode to her door, braced herself, and yanked it open. Stiffening her resolve, she headed out of her room and into the dark hall.

She pattered down the hall that stretched towards the guest wing until, at last, she found his rooms.

Her brother had made certain that Tobias had a suite with a bed chamber, a sitting area, and a place to do his work, all overlooking the beautiful park and the river Thames.

She stood outside that door, her heart skittering as she tugged her robe tighter about her. Her breath came now in short takes, and suddenly she felt strange, as if she might suddenly lose her ability to reason.

And she felt a moment’s cowardice, a moment of wishing to run away. This was a bold move, but she came from a family of bold people. Did she not?

She would not retreat!

And so she lifted her hand and knocked. There was a long pause.

“Who is it?” Tobias called.

“It is Juliet,” she returned.

“You should go away,” he said. “I’m working.”

His reply nearly undid all her resolve. But just as she was about to whip around and go back the way she had come, she bolstered herself. “I’m not going to go away. I’ve made it this far, and I’m not turning back.”

There was another long pause.

She heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and then it cracked open. He left but a few inches between the jam and the panel. He stared out at her with his dark eyes.

“You really should go,” he said softly. That low rumble of his voice was a temptation beyond all things.

She lifted her chin. “I’ve come here for something, and I’m not going to leave until I get it.”

“And what is that?” he countered.

“You,” she replied without artifice or guile but with earnestness.

He stared at her for a long, long moment, and then he opened the door and stepped back.

This was a choice that could lead to the worst of regrets. But she was not going to regret it. She was not going to be afraid. And she was going to seize her happiness with both hands. And she would make a memory of it so that in the future, when she was at the pinnacle of her power, she could bring it out again.

And remember that once she had lived, she had loved, and she had reveled in all that life had to offer.