Page 19 of The Diamond's Absolutely Delicious Downfall

Juliet had never felt so truly lost before.

Briarwoods did not get lost.

Their internal resolve to follow their instincts was their North Star. They did not act as mere mortals did, but she had apparently, like Icarus, flown too close to the sun and lost her wings. She had no idea what to do. She was supposed to be going to a ball.

Instead, she had gone out of Heron House, climbed into a coach, and headed to the theater. She could barely even remember telling the footman where to go. She was so dismayed. So adrift.

Tobias was going to leave and he had every reason to.

Dear heaven. She had treated him as if he were a second choice, someone who barely deserved her notice, not a real human at all, but a sort of thing to play with.

How had she become like that? What in God’s name had made her think she could get away with this? She had played with another human’s life. She had played with her own life.

The madness of it was shockingly painful.

The coach traveled through the city, heading through the thick choke of vehicles and people to the theater district. Her conveyance pulled up behind Drury Lane.

She trudged down to the mud, her shoes sinking into the mire, much like her spirits, before she headed straight into the theater.

Each step felt as if she was wading through deep water. All her joy, her hope, her sparkle… It was gone. She had to speak with Estella. Though some might argue that Estella was the very reason she was in this predicament to begin with, she couldn’t speak with anyone else.

She had to find herself again. She had to understand what to do, and so she all but stormed into her aunt’s dressing room, despite knowing that she might come across the most shocking of scenes.

The scene was shocking, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

A gasp slipped from her lips. “Mama!” she cried.

Her mother was sitting across from her sister, Julia’s Aunt Estella. The two of them were in tête-à-tête drinking tea.

“My dear,” her mother exclaimed. “You weren’t expecting me, were you?”

“No, but I am not surprised,” she returned. “You have been doing many things without my knowledge.”

“Have you come to your senses since you have made such a muck of things?” her mother asked rather bluntly.

The words stung and she longed to shout at her mother that she had no business saying such a thing. Instead, tears filled her eyes, and she let out a cry before she rushed to her mother.

“Mama, what am I to do?”

Her mother quickly put her teacup aside and enveloped her in a gentle but firm embrace.

Estella reached out with a bejeweled hand and placed it on Juliet’s shoulder. “Have a good cry,” Estella said. “It is the best thing for your complexion, and you’ll feel much better after.”

Juliet let out a hiccupping laugh. “What would I do without you? I feel as if I’m in a dark hole.”

“You are in a dark hole,” her mother said, stroking her hair, “but you have dug it yourself, my darling.”

“I know, I know,” Juliet sobbed. “But I do not know how to get out of it again.”

“Of course you do,” her mother countered. “Do not be ludicrous. I have not raised a martyr or a victim. I do not give birth to either of those types of individuals. You have so much power, my darling. But somehow you have given it all away. You are letting life happen to you.”

“Mama,” she tsked, unwilling to let her mother get away with all her maneuverings. “You have made life happen to me and Estella too!”

Her mother sighed. “I cannot exactly argue with you there, my dear, but I’ve always had a penchant for making things happen. And when I see my children faltering, I have to do something.”

“Like you did with Hermia?” she whispered.

Her mother beamed. “Of course. I took one look at the Earl of Drexel, and I knew he was the one for her. I heard about this American fellow from Estella, and I knew that he was the one for you too. No one has ever tempted you like that before, driven you from your perfect path of being a diamond and wanting society to worship you and me, darling.”

Her mother arched a silvery brow. “They don’t need to worship me through your power. They already do.”

“But not the way you deserve, Mama,” she protested.

“Ah, my dear,” her mother said gently, stroking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad that we do not get what we deserve. I have made many mistakes in this life and done many terrible things. It grieves me that I had to do those things, that I chose to do those things to survive, but I have made the rest of my life all about becoming strong because of those broken moments. You can do the same.”

Juliet shook her head. “I have not had broken moments,” she returned.

“Of course you have,” Estella said, taking a sip of tea. “You’re having one now.”

“I have lived, but it is so little,” she lamented.

“Yes,” her mother agreed. “Because that is what you have chosen, and so you have had little problems.”

She scowled, wiping her tears away. “Choosing who to marry is not a little problem.”

“It is when you’re going about it the way you are going about it,” her aunt said.

Juliet swung her gaze to the lady who lived life so grandly and demanded, “Did you spy upon us?”

Her aunt gave a guilty smile. “I did not set out to do it, but you forgot something in my dressing room. And I followed you. And I saw you two… For about a moment. Not too long. I’m not a voyeur, after all, though I know that suits many a person.” Her aunt plunked her tea down, then braced her arm on the back of her chair as her eyes lit. “The electricity between the two of you! My goodness, Dr. Franklin would be envious of it. All the fools in Bath using electric therapy on their clients could not have produced such a thing as what was running between the two of you!”

Estella leaned forward, her face most sincere. “You two belong together. You don’t want a stuffy old duke or a stuffy old viscount. You want that vitally alive American fellow.”

Juliet’s throat tightened as a wave of pain washed through her. Not physical but spiritual torment. “He said… He said…”

“What?” her mother prompted, taking her hands.

Juliet swallowed and forced herself to say, “He said that I’m only happy here in the theater, that he’s only ever seen me truly alive in this place.”

“He’s not wrong,” her mother said gently. “I’ve watched you dance and laugh and make people fall in love with you, going from ball to ball, dinner party to dinner party, saying all the right things. But you’ve not really been alive through any of it. You’ve been asleep.”

She gasped. “I’ve worn my mask just as Estella instructed.”

“Ah,” Estella said, raising a bejeweled hand. “You will not drag me into any of that. Yes, we play roles, my dear, but you have chosen every role that you’ve played. You’ve decided to play the role of perfection. And I will tell you right now that no one can truly play it. It breaks everyone who tries. And so you must instead choose to be yourself. It is the most daring act, after all.”

Her mother cupped Juliet’s cheek. “That’s why your father loved me and I loved him. And your grandmother loves me too because I didn’t try to be anybody else but myself. I have no desire to be. Your grandmother doesn’t either. It’s why your father and I got along so well. Neither of us wanted to pretend or pander. You mustn’t pander, my darling. I’ve watched you do it for years now, and I keep hoping that you’re going to wake up. So stop sleeping, my love. Wake up. Let him wake you up.”

“I’ve ruined it,” she rasped.

“You couldn’t have,” soothed her mother.

“Oh, but I have,” she sobbed. “He thinks so little of me. I am so shallow, so small, all I have cared about—”

“He doesn’t understand why you cared!” trilled Estella.

“I’ve told him,” she protested.

“Have you truly?” her mother asked. “You made him understand why it was so important to you. It wasn’t just about status? It was pain and shame?”

“Mama,” she gasped, horrified. “I’ve never been ashamed of you.”

“Of course you haven’t,” her mother replied gently. “But you did feel shame. I know you never want to talk about it.”

She looked away. “They said the most terrible things, Mama. Cruel things. No one should say such things about you.”

“Ah, my love,” her mother explained, “they have said worse things in the papers. And I am glad that they do.”

“You are glad?” she scoffed.

“Of course,” Estella said, adjusting the jewels at her neck. “Because if no one is giving your mother any difficulty, it means she’s not living a life worth living.”

Her mother nodded. “Who wants a little life, Juliet?”

She’d never really thought about it like that.

“Because that’s what you are choosing,” her mother continued. “A tidy little life in which there will be no difficulties, but there will be no joy either, and my heart breaks at the idea that you might ultimately choose such a thing. So the moment the American came into our lives, I told your brother that he must invite him to stay.”

Her mother grinned fondly. “He’s a very clever fellow that American, and I do believe that he can help your brother too. So, yes, we lied to you. I suppose we lied to both of you, but we didn’t want you to know that we understood the truth that you could not see.”

She wasn’t sure she wished to know, but she ventured, “And that is?”

“You have the potential to be the grandest lady of all of us. If you can but walk away from the ton, my darling, or choose to rule it like I do.”

Juliet held onto her mother then, but she no longer felt the urge to sob.

She did not know if she could ever forget the cruelty of the ladies who called her mother terrible names, but the idea that she was choosing a stunted life because of those terrible biddies?

That she could not bear. For it was the greatest insult to her family. She was letting those awful women win.

“He’s going to leave,” Juliet stated.

“He’s going to leave what?” her mother demanded. For once, she was surprised.

Juliet licked her lips and rushed, “His sister, Mercy, has arrived from America. He’s going to go back with her.”

“Then you must stop him,” her mother declared, leaning forward.

“How?” Juliet lamented.

Estella cocked her head to the side. “You’re one of us. Of course you’ll think of something. What’s his favorite thing in the whole world?”

Juliet frowned, thinking. “The theater.”

Estella threw back her head and laughed. “Darling, but that’s not his favorite thing.”

“What is?” she breathed.

“You,” her mother said gently.

She didn’t dare believe it, but she prayed. Oh dear heaven, she prayed it was true.

Suddenly, an idea began to form inside her. And a smile tilted her lips.

Her mother arched a brow. “Now, there’s my Juliet.”