Page 6 of The Diamond's Absolutely Delicious Downfall

“No one keeps Mama waiting for long,” the Duke of Westleigh declared as he strode out of the study, clearly expecting Tobias and Lady Juliet to follow.

The Duke of Westleigh exited as if he was the king waiting for all his retainers to go alongside him. Tobias did not bother hesitating. There was no point. And frankly, the man was fascinating, and so he went along. Usually, he did not give much credence to nobles, but in this particular case, he was willing to give the duke a chance.

After all, the man was seeking good things for his country, or so it seemed. And there was the fact that it meant he got to walk beside Lady Juliet.

Juliet.

It was an apt name for a young lady in a dark theater, wasn’t it? Was she Shakespearean and dramatic herself? She certainly didn’t seem so at the moment. At the moment, she was the height of ton perfection.

He knew the ladies of society well enough, though in general, he felt a great deal of disdain for them.

She was dressed perfectly. Her hair was arranged beautifully in soft curls about her face. There were flowers in her hair. Her gown was cut to perfection—a pale pink piece. Her gloves skimmed her arms and bound her fingers.

Bound.

Yes, that was how she seemed now in the candlelight of the Havers’ house. In the theater, she had seemed a wild creature, ready to be undone. Here she was restricted, polished.

Yes, a lady of society. And as he strode beside her, he let his fingertips wander ever so slightly, his knuckles brushing her hand. She all but yelped and leapt aside. She swung her gaze to him and gave him a crackling stare.

“Behave yourself,” she hissed sotto voce. Her brother was just far enough ahead that he wouldn’t hear such a thing.

He let out a low rumble of a laugh. “Behave myself?” he queried softly.

“Something amusing, Yank?” the duke called back over his shoulder.

“Oh, the entire affair is amusing,” he returned. “I was just asking your sister to dance, and she said such a thing wouldn’t be possible.”

“Not possible?” the duke scoffed. “Terribly bad manners of you, Sister. You must make the American feel, if not welcome, at least as if he’s not about to be devoured by society.”

She tsked, adjusting her gloves. “Brother, you know that all my dances are spoken for.”

As her brother strode on, he called out with authority, “Surely, one of those fellows is too tired to dance. Perhaps one of them is ill. I could have a word.”

“Don’t you dare,” she returned.

But before she could say another word, the Duke of Westleigh stopped, turned, and snatched up her dance card.

He stared and let out a laugh. “The Viscount Vexen? I don’t think so. That fellow can’t make it around a ballroom to save his soul. I shall ask him to have a glass of port with Mama and I, and then you can go ahead and have a dance with our friend here. After all, he’s going to be staying with us, and it’s good for you to get to know our guest.”

Edict set down, the Duke of Westleigh headed off in search of the duchess and apparently Viscount Vexen too.

“I’m sorry,” he said quite honestly. “I did not mean to maneuver you into a dance.”

She narrowed her gaze at him. “Are you so very certain about that?”

“I confess, I am intrigued by you,” he said as they entered the ballroom.

How he wished he could have kept her out in the hall.

Another hall. Another chance to be alone with her. But this was not a dark theater. There would be no thoughts of pressing her against the wall, sliding her skirts up, and finding the hot center of her desire here.

As it was, he was entirely uncertain what to make of her.

She sucked in a breath, her brow furrowing with distress. “I should go find the viscount myself and make apologies.”

“Your brother is not capable of doing that?” he challenged. “He seems a rather powerful man.”

She paused beside the dance floor. “My brother is one of the most powerful men in England, and if I let him do everything for me, I would never leave the house. Here’s the thing. With my brother, you have to show a strong hand or he will take everything over. Even though he does not have time for it. I swear he doesn’t sleep. He maneuvers all.”

“Is that a warning?” he asked softly.

“Perhaps,” she said, eyeing him. “If you’re going to be his new pet.”

“Pet,” he growled.

She tilted her head to the side, which caused her earbobs to wink in the candlelight. “My brother likes to take people in, just as my sister likes to take in wounded animals.”

“Is that what your family does?” he asked, considering how they’d met in the hall and his recent meeting with the duke. “Collect things?”

She let out a delicious laugh, a sound that traveled from the top of his head down to the tips of his polished shoes and did the most remarkable things in between.

“Perhaps that might be a good way of putting it,” she allowed.

He drew in a slow breath and let his gaze wander to her lips, recalling the spark between them. “Would you like to collect me?” he asked. “You certainly seemed to be on a mission to do so at the theater.”

Her cheeks heightened with color at that. “That was an entirely different—”

“Oh, yes,” he rumbled, loving the color in her cheeks and the fire in her eyes. “It was very different than this.”

He held out his hand to her. “We are expected to dance, no?”

She slipped her fingers into his, and the notes of a couples dance began. It was a perfect dance for conversation, and he was rather glad. For he was not prepared to let their strange acquaintance go unquestioned.

And then there was the fact that he wanted her in his arms. There was no question about that. This young lady was so strange. So unlike any of the others of his acquaintance, and he wanted to feel her curves pressed perfectly against his hard lines again.

To see if she was as perfect a fit as he recalled.

“Do you often throw yourself at gentlemen in dark hallways?” he asked as he twirled her under his arm.

“Not as a rule, no,” she said with surprising firmness and no regret.

He rather admired her steely tone and resolve.

“What made me special then?” he asked. “My shocking good looks?”

She lifted her foot and brought it down atop his. He let out a bleat of pain. “Madam, if you think to unman me by such a gesture, you are mistaken.”

“Unman you, sir? Oh, no,” she returned with faux innocence as merriment shimmered in her gaze. “I can tell you that it is your very manhood which drew me to you, but I cannot show interest in it now. After all, you’re going to stay in my house, and any attempts to show such manhood will result in the losing of such a thing for you.”

He let out a groan. “Yes, I can imagine upsetting the Duke of Westleigh could be deleterious to one’s physical health.”

Her lips parted in the most delicious of grins. “Well, not just the Duke of Westleigh,” she said. “I have other brothers too. Hector, Ajax, and Zephyr. Not to mention my brother in Paris, whose return we’re all awaiting.”

“You have a brother in Paris right now?” he blurted. “He should leave immediately.”

Her mouth pressed into a firmer line as her merriment faded. “Yes, that’s what we’ve told him, but he refuses to go. He says something about having to bear witness to history.”

“Damnation,” he sighed. “All these aristocrats who feel the need to bear witness to history. I suppose I’m grateful for the Marquis de Lafayette feeling the need to do so, but your brother will be in great danger. France is a powder keg.”

“Are you trying to frighten me, sir?” she asked, her gaze now quite sharp.

He wanted to kick himself. He should have kept silent. What could she do but worry? “No, but you should write him and tell him to come home. Immediately.”

“Thank you for your concern,” she said sincerely. “We are all concerned about him. Perhaps you should write him. He might listen to an American.”

“Do you think so?” he asked, surprised. “I’d be happy to do so if you’d like.”

“Would you?” she gasped.

“Indeed. I’ve seen enough young men die,” he said softly.

“I imagine you have,” she said, her visage changing. “And now here you are in a London ballroom and soon coming to stay with me in our London house, talking about—”

“I’m not coming to stay with you,” he quickly pointed out.

“Oh, but you are,” she said, some of her merriment returning as they circled down the floor, skipping to the sprightly tune. “You’re going to live underneath the same roof as me, and so we must behave ourselves, you see?”

“You are the one who is misbehaving,” he pointed out, rotating them on spot, their hands intertwined. “I’m acting as a man should.”

She snorted, a shocking thing for a diamond to do. “How absolutely infuriating that your behavior is perfectly acceptable and mine is—”

“Not,” he finished, clearly finding the situation as shameful as she did.

“Yes,” she said as he circled her about the room, his hands skimming lightly over her back.

The soft feel of her shoulder blades under his fingertips nearly undid him. He wanted to strip back the silk and stays and trace his hands over her back, memorizing the lines there. Yes… And then he’d slide his lips over every inch of her skin until he came to the curve of her back and the line of her bottom…

“I say, are you unwell? You look—”

“What?” he growled.

She swallowed, the delicate muscles of her throat working as she whispered, “As if you’re about to devour me.”

“If you knew what I was thinking, you’d run.”

“Perhaps not,” she countered, her voice breathy, as if she was considering her own scandalous foray into sin with him. “But as you say, I mustn’t misbehave.”

“It’s absurd.” Now that her own gaze was hot with hunger again, he could scarcely think. Even so, he wouldn’t abandon her to the hypocrisy of society. “I’ve read every tract on it and yet society doesn’t seem to want to allow ladies the same space as men in the world.”

“I’m very disappointed,” she said, “in your country, if I must admit the truth.”

“So am I,” he concurred. “Many of us are not quite pleased with the result, but one has to start somewhere. Otherwise nothing happens at all.”

“And the ladies?” she prompted.

“The ladies,” he explained, “are furious. Mrs. Adams is most put out about it. She and I have had many a conversation. But John could not get the job done for the ladies, and he felt that he would have to sacrifice his wife’s independence so he could have his.”

She let out a gasp. “You put it very well, sir, but it is most upsetting.”

“It should be upsetting,” he agreed. “But I’ll tell you this, women need to be careful,” he said. “Gentlemen don’t like giving up their authority. Kings don’t either. Sometimes men punish women for seeking equality. Brutally. Many prefer submission.”

Her gaze flashed with anger, not at him, but at the injustice of it. “Do you plan on having me submit then? Is that what you are saying?”

He let out a low rush of sound. “You’re quite forceful, Lady Juliet. I am not accustomed to a lady so eccentric in her passions—”

“But you clearly enjoy it, don’t you, Mr.…”

“Miller,” he reminded.

“Mr. Miller,” she whispered. “You enjoy it.”

“And you do too,” he drawled, his gaze hooded. “A bit of rough is exactly what you want, isn’t it?”

She gaped at him, astonished…and seen. “Sir. Such a thing is—”

“Accurate,” he put in. “That’s what you wanted in that hall in the theater, wasn’t it? A bit of rough?”

She felt his hand press into her back, wishing she could give into it. Wishing she could press her body into his and revel in his hard sinew.

“Yes,” she confessed. “I suppose it was.”

“One last hurrah before your perfect marriage to some perfect gentleman, and with an American who is the opposite of perfect in your eyes.”

She groaned. “I would not have put it quite like that, but you are not mistaken, I suppose.”

“Yes, I’m very observant,” he replied.

“How nice for you. And I wouldn’t call a single kiss in a hall a last hurrah,” she ground out. “Are you insulted?”

“That you picked me for your bit of rebellion? I am not insulted at all, but as you say, your brother might murder me if I ruined you.”

“Perhaps it would be worth it,” she teased.

His lips parted, and his hands tightened on her body. Not with warning, but with promise—the same sort of promise of pleasure he’d given her before. “You think very highly of yourself.”

“Of course I do,” she returned boldly. “I’m a Briarwood. I think very highly of myself and my family. We are superior to everyone else and not because we are in the ton.”

“Oh?” he said. “What is it then that makes you so superior?”

He truly wanted to know because he didn’t necessarily disagree, even if their arrogance was breathtaking.

She lifted her chin and announced, “It is because of how we think.”

“And how is it that you think?” he queried.

“We think carefully, critically, and we don’t usually give a damn about what other people have to say about us.”

“But you do,” he countered, stunned that she didn’t see it.

She narrowed her gaze. “I beg your pardon?”

“You clearly do,” he affirmed.

“I do not!” she whispered fiercely.

“You do,” he insisted, raking her up and down with an assessing stare. “Because whoever this person is who came into this ballroom is not the lady I met in the theater. You’re wearing quite the mask, Lady Juliet. And frankly, I’d like to see you without it again.”

“Alas, it shall never be,” she said, even as her breath came in rapid takes.

“Never is a very, very dangerous thing to say, Lady Juliet, and it makes me certain that I absolutely will see it.”

Her eyes heated at that.

“You want me to see it,” he said softly, roughly.

She started to pull back, but then, lest she cause a scene, hissed instead, “Are you a rogue, sir?”

“Perhaps,” he said, “or perhaps, like you and your family, I simply don’t like to play by the rules. I don’t think that rules are a good thing at all.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said.

“Why not?” he countered.

“Because you’re a revolutionist, not an anarchist.”

“Are you absolutely certain?” he asked softly, quite willing to burn the world down for another chance to be alone with her.

It was a mad thought. And surely he did not mean it. He couldn’t.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he whispered, pulling her slightly closer than he should. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not willing to tear down many things to get what I want.”

“And what do you want?” she rasped.

“Right now?” he queried, fighting the urge to drag her out, claim her as his own, and abandon all the rules and reason he’d always followed. “Another kiss.”

“We cannot kiss in the middle of a ballroom,” she whispered, horrified but also clearly hungry for his kiss too.

The music came to a close and he held onto her for a single moment more before whispering down to her as he led her off the floor, “Then it is a good thing I am coming to stay with you.”