Page 3 of The Diamond's Absolutely Delicious Downfall

Ablack cat and a crow nestled on Juliet’s bed in shocking harmony.

Her lady’s maid, Joan, let out a cry of alarm.

“Shoo, shoo,” she exclaimed, bustling forward, her apron flapping.

“Oh, Joan do leave them be,” Juliet urged.

“I cannot, Lady Juliet,” Joan replied, stopping dead in her tracks in the middle of the lavish bedroom. “There will be vermin all over your bedclothes, and I cannot abide it.”

She was really rather lucky that Joan did not quit on a daily basis.

Her family was impossible, after all, and Perdita’s rescued animals, well, they were just the beginning of it, a tip on the proverbial iceberg, so to speak.

She did not know how Perdita managed it, but the black crow with its glossy wings and the coal-dark cat got along. In the world outside of Heron House, of course, they would be natural predator and prey, but here at Heron House, nothing ever went as it was supposed to.

And Perdita was, well, a veritable witch!

Well, not a real one.

Perdita did not cast spells, scry in glasses, or have control of wind and weather, but Juliet did often wonder if her sister had been born in a previous century whether she’d be in jeopardy from witch hunters.

The truth was Perdita was quite odd and absolutely delightful, with a heart as large as the Continent. Perdita could not abide an animal in distress and had rescued several. The cat and the crow were but two of a long line of animals that Perdita had collected since she was about two years old.

Perhaps that was why the cat and the crow did not engage in fisticuffs or bloodshed. They were united in their mutual admiration and adoration of their mistress, who had found them both in horrific states.

The poor cat had lost one ear. Its skin had been flapping about. And the crow? Well, its leg had been horribly bent. And Perdita, through instinct and kindness and a love of scientific inquiry, had managed to heal them both, despite the skepticism of those around her.

No medical or animal doctor would’ve given those wounds a second look. They would’ve cast the animals off. But not Perdita.

Perdita would not cast anyone off. And Juliet adored her little sister, who would soon be on the marriage mart herself. After all, seventeen years of age was the threshold for facing the glittering ballrooms of the ton, and hopefully Juliet would make such a grand marriage that Perdita would be able to do exactly as she pleased.

Juliet let out a sigh. “Joan, it will be all right,” she insisted.

“Hah,” Joan huffed, gesturing for her to sit before the dressing table. “All right indeed. It is a merry thing for you to say, but I have been waiting for your mother to arrive home at any moment from her card party, and then I would have had to explain why you were not here. I cannot be lying to the duchess, and you know it.”

“I’m back, aren’t I?” Juliet protested, sitting in the delicate chair.

“Yes.” Joan propped her hands on her ample hips. “But what if you had been kidnapped by pickpockets or footpads?”

Juliet rolled her eyes. “Do you think I am made of such weak stuff?”

“I think the world is a very dangerous place,” Joan countered, beginning to slip flowers and pins from Juliet’s hair.

And Joan had good cause to believe so. She had been raised in the East End and had been brought in through one of her Juliet’s mother’s many projects, which had assisted those who wished for a better life to find one.

Without the Duchess of Westleigh’s preoccupation with improving the world, Joan, no doubt, would have died quite young or found herself in a very precarious position which was not particularly healthy to females.

But Juliet’s mother had been quite plain about her lack of disdain for women of such a profession. After all, as an actress, many assumed that a lady in the theater was also a lady of the night.

Had not the American made certain assumptions? Or at least behaved with her in a way he would have done with no young lady?

He’d thought her an actress and quite willing to engage in passion. In public.

Her cheeks flushed at that. Good heavens. What a fellow he had been. She could not stop the sudden flood of excitement that washed through her. She had not felt anything like that, not in all her life. Though she had attempted to be kissed in the past, it had never worked out. No one was willing, be they a blacksmith’s son or a young lord, to impose on the grand Duke of Westleigh’s sister.

But at long last, she had been kissed! And what a kiss! She would never forget the shock of it. Or the way it had awakened her. Awakened her so intently that if she had not stopped, she could have found herself doing things in the shadows she should not.

Pity the American was an American with no title and no status here in this country. He would never do. He certainly wouldn’t bolster up her mother’s reputation. If anything, he would tear it further apart—an American, a revolutionary, no doubt!

Whatever would she do with someone like that, who no doubt had no fortune or nor estate? No. She shut the thought from her head.

“Are you quite unwell, Lady Juliet?” Joan asked, her lips pursing with concern. “You’re not catching a fever, are you?”

Joan placed her hand atop Juliet’s forehead.

She let out a laugh. “No, I am not unwell, Joan,” she said. “I am in perfectly good health. Rude health, as a matter of fact.”

Joan eyed her carefully. “Then whatever is it?” She let out a gasp. “You’ve met a man, my lady! Please tell me you were not out having—”

“No,” she rushed loudly. “Of course not. Do not be ridiculous, Joan. I would not put myself in such jeopardy.”

Joan snorted. “Yes, you would. You are just as rash as the lot of them. Going off in a hackney cab to see your aunt.” Joan gave a shake of her head as she slipped more pins out of Juliet’s hair. “Your aunt should be raked over the coals for allowing you to do anything of the sort.”

Perhaps Joan was not entirely mistaken, but Estella did seem to hope that one day Juliet would wake up and stop attempting to pursue financial and societal importance.

She never would. She never could.

After all, Estella would never fall into ruin because her sister, Sylvia, would ensure that nothing happened to her. But if her mother had not married a great duke, and Estella and Sylvia had been left to the approval of society, well, it would be very easy for them to fall one day.

Fortunes and tides turned overnight, within hours sometimes. And Estella’s independence was largely, though she would never admit it, based upon Sylvia’s good fortune. And Juliet wanted to ensure that continued good fortune for her sister Perdita and her mother too.

Joan unbound Juliet’s curls, letting the locks tumble about her shoulders, and then she began her hundred brushstrokes for the evening. “Put on your cream,” Joan instructed. “We must look very fresh tomorrow. You have an exceptionally important ball in the evening.”

“Oh, goodness gracious.” She let out a sigh. “Please tell me it’s not the Havers, is it?”

“It is indeed the Havers,” Joan said, plunking the pot of cream next to Juliet’s hand. “And your brother the duke has been clear. He is attending and you must go.”

She let out a groan. The Havers were very powerful political people and her brother, though eccentric, was most determined to ensure that slavery was banned in English lands and upon English ships. It was an uphill battle. He had several allies, but he also had many people against him.

It was going to be no easy thing to get through the House of Lords. Charles Fox seemed to be on their side, but one could never tell. He was, well, foxlike. She hoped beyond all hoping that her brother would succeed, but it drove him half mad trying to maneuver people to do as he wished and willed.

It was a reminder to her that money was perhaps the most powerful thing in the world after a great title because people would do terrible things for money, including putting others into bondage. Her brother would do great things with money. It was one of the most beautiful lessons she had ever learned—that money in and of itself was neither ill nor good, but the person who used it could create either heaven or hell.

“Oh, there you are,” Perdita burst into the room, a riot of blonde curled hair and pink silk. Perdita was all but a copy of their mother, from the top of her blonde head to the tips of her toes. The truth was she was a jewel. And no doubt many men would want her. Many nefarious men as well as good ones.

And Juliet was going to make certain that her sister married a very good one.

“You’ve left your cat and your crow on Lady Juliet’s bed,” Joan said. “Get them off at once. Fleas are about to infest this house.”

“Never,” Perdita gasped with wounded horror. “How dare you suggest a thing, Joan? I would never allow my dear friends to be infested with vermin.”

“They are vermin,” Joan retorted.

Perdita tsked. “You must not say such a thing.” She rushed forward to her sister. “They are very happy on the bed. They like it there. They know Juliet is lovely. I shall take them when I go. But Juliet, I saw you come in through the back. Whatever are you doing?”

“What were you doing spying upon me?” Juliet said playfully, smearing cream on her fingers before she began rubbing it in circles into her face.

Perdita waggled her brows. “I was perched on the roof. Perched like a crow. Well, more like one of the pigeons,” she said.

“Don’t even mention those dratted birds,” Juliet said. “Mama has decided opinions about London pigeons. Terrible creatures.”

Perdita gave a sorrowful look. “Only because society makes them so.”

Juliet let out a laugh. “You should give lectures on the workings of the human mind,” she said.

“Perhaps I will,” Perdita enthused, clearly liking the idea. “I do think that Rousseau is quite right. If we put people in the nature that they were meant to be in, their actual behavior would be marvelous indeed.”

“Yes,” Juliet agreed carefully. “But don’t forget Rousseau’s motives are not exactly noble.”

Perdita rolled her eyes. “Perhaps not all motives need to be noble. It is the end result that matters. If we can put more people into nature, surely that would be a good thing.”

Her sister was right. “Come,” Juliet instructed. “Come sit by me.”

Perdita moved one of the small benches by the bed to the dressing table. “Tell me. Where were you?”

“She went to see your aunt,” Joan said tightly.

“Joan!” Juliet bit out, horrified that her secrets were made plain. “Are you my lady’s maid or my confessor?”

“Both,” Joan said factually, braiding her hair quickly. “Now, let’s put you into your night rail. You must get a good night’s sleep or you’ll look like an utter baggage.”

“Oh, Joan,” Juliet said. “Must you?”

Perdita laughed. “Juliet could not look like a baggage if she tried. She could drink copious amounts of champagne, dance all the hours away, and have only one hour of sleep, and she would still look better than all of Reynolds’ paintings.”

“I wish it were true,” Juliet lamented. But the truth was it did actually take some effort to look like a diamond. Underneath, she wasn’t entirely certain she was not actually a paste jewel, more for the theater than the actual ton, but as long as she could fool people, she would.

Perdita narrowed her eyes. “There’s something different about you.”

Different? There was the fact that she had been thoroughly and gloriously kissed! But she could not tell Perdita such a thing.

“No there’s not,” Juliet insisted.

Perdita’s brow furrowed and she leaned forward. “Indeed, there is. Something happened to you.”

“That’s what I was saying,” Joan said, tying a bow at the end of Juliet’s braid. “I thought she was having an assignation, but that’s not possible,” she said. “Is it, my lady?”

“It is!” Perdita gushed, clapping her hands. “Look at her cheeks. They’re so pink. And her eyes. I recognize this.” Perdita cleared her throat and began as if giving a lecture on animal husbandry, “You see, when birds or other animals on the estate are most excited at the prospect of mating, they’re entire demeanor—”

“Perdita!” Juliet broke in, horrified.

“What?” Perdita said innocently. “I am just speaking of science.”

Juliet swallowed. “Well, this creature does not wish to be scientifically examined.” Juliet worried the inside of her cheek, debating on what she should say. Finally, she allowed, “If you must know, I did meet a gentleman at the theater.”

“No,” Joan groaned, closing her eyes and tilting her head back as if she was praying to the good Lord. “Please don’t say it. You still have to make it through the Season. You’ve had five proposals, but you haven’t accepted any of them.”

“I’m waiting for a duke,” Juliet defended.

“Well, you might wait until you’re an old maid,” Joan huffed. Huffed in the way only a servant who had served a family faithfully for years could do, knowing there was very little chance of them ever being dismissed. “There are no dukes available at present, except for your brother, and that certainly isn’t possible.”

“No, of course not.” Juliet shuddered. “We’re not Roman emperors.”

“Who cares about hypothetical dukes,” Perdita said with a wave of her hand. “More of this fellow, please.”

Juliet grinned. “He’s utterly unsuitable, but he does kiss divinely.”

“Were you not worried he might ravish you in the hallway?” Perdita exclaimed.

Joan groaned and again looked as if she was transported in prayer, attempting to save her charge from damnation.

“You have been reading too many plays from the Restoration. Mama really shouldn’t keep them in the house.”

Perdita scowled. “It’s not just in plays! As I understand, a lady must never be caught in a hallway alone. The most dangerous things can happen.”

“It’s true. But if I had screamed, Aunt Estella’s dresser would have heard me,” Juliet assured before looking to Joan and then her sister again. “But listen, I did kiss him. It was quite an impulsive thing to do, and I really shouldn’t be telling you this, and I don’t know why I am.” She hesitated, bubbling with all that had happened to her. “Only I have to tell someone.”

Joan groaned, a pained sound. “Save us, dear heaven, save us.”

“Oh Joan, of course we’ll be saved,” Juliet teased, smiling. “We always are.”

And then Juliet smiled. A dreamy smile. She could not stop herself. “He was divine, utterly divine, and utterly not for me, but I enjoyed every moment of it, and I shall just have to make sure that I never see him again.”