Diamonds are for Deception: The Carlotta Diamond / The Texan's Diamond Bride / From Dirt to Diamonds

Just for an instant, as if his mind was elsewhere, he failed to respond, then his fingers closed around hers and gave them a squeeze.

When they reached the sunny living-room, he suggested, ‘If you give me the phone number of your flat, I’ll have a quick word with Miss Macfadyen. Then you can fill her in on all the details while I talk to Matthew.’

She told him the number, and he tapped it in.

On the second ring the receiver was lifted and Sojo’s voice said laconically, ‘Hello?’

‘Miss Macfadyen, this is Simon Farringdon…’

‘Simon Farringdon…’ she echoed. Then sharply, ‘Is there something wrong? Where’s Charlotte?’

‘There’s nothing wrong; in fact everything’s fine, and Charlotte is here with me now. She tells me that you’re on holiday, so I’m ringing to invite you down to Farringdon Hall for a few days.’

‘Is this some kind of joke?’ Sojo demanded.

With a rueful glance at his companion, Simon denied, ‘Not at all. Charlotte and I would very much like your company.’

After a pause, Sojo said cautiously, ‘Well, if you really mean it, I suppose I could get a train down. When do you want me to come?’

‘If you have no plans for this afternoon?’

‘No.’

‘Then I’ll send a car for you. Say three o’clock… Now Charlotte has something to ask you, so I’ll leave her to explain.’

He handed over the receiver and went into the library, which also served as his office-cum-study.

Doing her utmost to curb her excitement, Charlotte said, ‘Sojo?’

‘What’s going on? Why do you want me to come down?’

‘Nothing’s going on, but quite a lot’s happened.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like Simon and I are going to be married.’

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, then Sojo laughed. ‘You’re kidding, of course.’

‘I’ve never been more serious.’

‘Honestly?’ Her voice squeaked a little.

‘Honestly.’

‘That ghost must have been quite something.’

‘It had less to do with the ghost than being stranded overnight.’

‘Stranded overnight! Hang on a minute… OK, now I’m sitting comfortably, so tell me everything before I die of curiosity.’

As succinctly as possible, Charlotte explained about the storm and the car breaking down. ‘But luckily we were close to one of the estate cottages, so Simon suggested that we spend the night there.’

‘Ooh, the devil! Were you alone?’

‘Yes.’

‘Share a bed?’

‘Yes.’

‘No regrets?’

‘None. Even before he proposed.’

‘That’s wonderful,’ Sojo said slowly.

‘But?’

‘I can’t help but worry in case this is just on the rebound from Wudolf. Because if it is—’

‘It isn’t,’ Charlotte broke in decisively. ‘As you yourself said, Rudy’s very Byronic, and I was on the verge of being infatuated, but that’s all…’

‘So it won’t rock the boat if I let on that he rang this morning wanting to speak to you?’ Sojo revealed.

‘No, it won’t. What did you tell him?’

‘That you were away for the weekend, but just in case he had the nerve to ring Farringdon Hall, I didn’t say where.’

Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief.

‘I hope I did the right thing?’ her flatmate asked.

‘Yes. I wouldn’t have wanted him to ring here.’

‘Knowing how painfully honest you are, I suppose you’ll want to put him in the picture. What will you do? Ring him up, or write to him?’

‘I can’t do either,’ Charlotte said. ‘I don’t know his home address or his phone number, or where to contact him in New York.’

‘Well, if he hasn’t got fed up and stopped ringing before I get back, I’ll be pleased to tell him that you’re going to marry someone far nicer. Incidentally, I’d love to see his face,’ Sojo said naughtily.

‘I hope he won’t be hurt,’ Charlotte remarked a shade anxiously.

‘Don’t start feeling guilty. The only thing likely to be hurt is his pride. I know his sort. That’s why I’m glad you’re not still hankering after him… You aren’t, are you?’

‘No, not in the slightest. In retrospect I can see that I wasn’t in love with him. I’m not sure I even liked him.’

‘What about Simon? Are you in love with him? Or is that a question I shouldn’t ask?’

‘Ask it by all means. The answer is madly. I was lost the moment I saw him. A coup de foudre.’

‘And it was mutual, I take it?’

‘Yes.

Sojo sighed. ‘How romantic. But to get to the nitty-gritty, does Sir Nigel know?’

‘Yes, we told him almost as soon as we got back.’

‘What did he say?’

‘For some reason he seems to have taken a fancy to me, and he was genuinely pleased. He’s going to give me away.’

‘I thought he was very ill,’ Sojo commented.

‘He is. That’s why Simon would like us to get married as soon as possible. He’s going to apply for a special licence so we can arrange the wedding for Wednesday or Thursday.’

‘You don’t mean this Wednesday or Thursday?’ Sojo asked faintly.

‘Yes…’

‘Well, he certainly doesn’t waste any time.’

‘And I’d like you to be my bridesmaid.’

‘I was only joking, you know,’ Sojo protested laughingly.

‘I’m not.’

‘What does Simon think of the idea?’

‘He suggested it.’

‘Then I’d love to! I’ll dig out my best frock.’

‘Speaking of frocks, I’d be grateful if you could pack my clothes and shoes et cetera and bring them down with you.’

‘All of them?’

‘I suppose so. I won’t be coming back.’

‘Of course you won’t.’ Just for a moment she sounded lost. ‘I’m afraid it hasn’t sunk in yet. Do you mind if I keep the flat on? It’s become home.’

‘Of course I don’t mind. I was hoping you would.’

‘What about the shop?’

‘I’m going to ask Margaret if she’ll manage it, at least for the time being,’ Charlotte said.

‘She once told me she felt far too young to retire, so it’s my bet she would be happy to manage it on a permanent basis. I don’t suppose you’re planning to work after you’re married?’

‘I haven’t even thought that far ahead. But I can’t imagine Simon would want me to.’

‘Aah…’

‘What do you mean, aah…?’

‘You used to be so cool and self-sufficient. Now, I’m delighted to say, your voice goes all soppy every time you say Simon.’

‘It does no such thing,’ Charlotte protested.

Taking the denial for what it was worth, Sojo added, ‘I can’t wait to meet the man who’s had such a devastating effect on you, so I’ll grab a sandwich and get cracking with the packing. See ya!’

The line went dead.

Smiling to herself, Charlotte pressed end call and tapped in Margaret’s number.

When the older woman had heard the news, after a flurry of oohs and aahs and excited congratulations, she expressed her willingness to manage the shop for as long as Charlotte wanted her to.

‘It’s all happened so quickly,’ she added, ‘I can hardly believe it.’

Charlotte felt very much the same.

‘Fancy being swept off your feet like that!’ She sighed gustily. ‘Isn’t it wonderfully romantic? I hope you’ll both live happily ever after, just like they do in fairy tales…’

But were fairy tales bound to have happy endings? Charlotte wondered as she replaced the receiver.

Not necessarily. She recalled a poetic version of Spellbound that ended, ‘glass coffin, no prince.’

Despite the warmth of the room, a sudden cold chill, a premonition, drained the colour from her face and made a shiver run through her.

‘Is there a problem?’ Simon’s voice asked.

Feeling silly, she said, ‘No… No, everything’s fine. Sojo seems highly delighted, and Margaret is quite willing to manage the shop for as long as I want her to.’

‘Then why are you looking so upset?’

She managed a smile. ‘I’m not.’

Plainly dissatisfied, he was about to probe further when there was a tap at the door and Mrs Reynolds appeared, to say, ‘Lunch is ready when you are. It being Sunday, I’ve asked Milly to set it in the dining-room. I hope that’s all right?’

‘Yes, fine. Thank you, Ann.’

A hand at Charlotte’s waist, he ushered her through to the panelled dining-room, where a table that would have held a dozen or more was set for two.

‘So what’s wrong?’ he pursued, when they were seated and the soup had been served.

‘Nothing’s wrong, really.’

Seeing a frown draw his well-marked brows together, she added awkwardly, ‘It was just that Margaret said she hoped we would both live happily ever after, ‘‘like they do in fairy tales’’. I was just wondering if fairy tales always ended happily, when a goose walked over my grave…’

He looked oddly relieved.

Eager to change the subject, she asked, ‘How did you get on?’

‘I had a word with both Matthew and James. They were pleased to hear the news. James is quite willing to be best man, and Matthew said he could see no reason why, if the vicar of our chosen church was agreeable, we shouldn’t start planning the wedding for Wednesday. Unfortunately he’s away at a conference and won’t be able to attend, but, bearing in mind Grandfather’s state of health, he agreed that the ceremony should take place as soon as possible. As luck would have it, I was able to catch the Reverend David Moss, the vicar of St Peter’s, between his morning service and lunch. He had nothing scheduled for Wednesday, so I’ve arranged for an eleven o’clock wedding, if that’s all right by you?’

‘Fine.’

‘Then that’s the most important thing settled,’ he said with satisfaction.

An odd little shiver ran though her, leaving her shaken and uncertain. She wanted to marry Simon, wanted to be his wife, so why, instead of feeling joyful and happy, did she feel uneasy, as if some sixth sense was warning that all was not well?

‘Which leaves just a few odd ends to tie in,’ he went on. ‘The most important of which is a decision on where you’d like to spend your first honeymoon. I suggested Paris or Rome as being reasonably close—we can always go further afield at a later date—but if there’s anywhere else you prefer… Amsterdam? Venice? Vienna?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m quite happy with either Paris or Rome.’

‘It’s for you to choose.’

‘Then Rome. Along with some student friends I spent a weekend in Paris, which I loved, but I’ve never been to Rome.’

‘Rather than staying in the city itself, which can be extremely noisy, I suggest that we find somewhere in the hills just outside Rome. There are some delightful little villages…’

While they discussed the various options, she made a determined effort to dismiss the feeling of uneasiness. But a faint niggle persisted until lunch was over.

As they left the dining-room, he asked, ‘Are you planning to let your mother and stepfather know about the wedding?’

‘I’m afraid I hadn’t thought about it,’ she admitted. ‘Though I will, of course.’

‘Perhaps you’d like to phone them now?’

Well aware that the suddenness would come as a shock to her conservative mother, Charlotte hesitated. Then realising they had to know, and it would be as well to get it over with, she said, ‘If you don’t mind?’

‘Of course not. By the way, what’s your mother’s name now she’s remarried?’

‘Harris. Joan Harris. Her husband’s called Steve.’

Simon glanced at his watch. ‘Do they stay up late?’

‘I don’t really know.’

‘Well, it will be getting on for midnight in Sydney. Do you want to see if you can catch them?’

‘Please.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

HE LED the way to the library, which was a large, handsome room with book-lined walls and an elaborately decorated plaster ceiling.

There was a soft leather suite and a Turkey red carpet with matching velvet curtains held back by tasselled cords. Though the day had remained sunny, a cheerful log fire burned in the wide grate.

In front of the window an imposing leather-topped desk, with a matching chair, held all the latest state-of-the-art office equipment. Sitting down at the desk, Charlotte dialled her parents’ number.

When, after a short delay, her mother answered, she blurted out, ‘Mum, it’s me.’

‘It’s very late to ring. Is there something wrong?’ Joan asked, her voice concerned.

‘No, there’s nothing wrong. Just the opposite. I know it’s a bit late, but I wanted to give you the good news without delay. I’m getting married.’

Quickly, before the questions started to flow, Charlotte told her mother the relevant details.

‘This Wednesday!’ Joan sounded staggered. ‘It’s all so sudden. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?’

‘Well, everything’s happened quite quickly and—’

‘But I’ve never even heard you mention anyone called Simon.’

Somewhat hampered by Simon’s presence, Charlotte said carefully, ‘We haven’t known each other all that long. You might say it was love at first sight—’

Only when the words were out did she realise it was the wrong thing to say.

Sounding even more anxious, Joan broke in, ‘I’ve always mistrusted that kind of thing. Too often it’s just infatuation. Love should have time to grow.’

‘Normally I would agree with you but—’

‘Surely it would be a lot wiser to wait a while and give it some thought?’ Joan insisted.

‘Simon doesn’t want to wait, you see—’

‘As you don’t have to get married…’ Then, obviously horrified by the idea, she cried, ‘You don’t, do you? You’re not pregnant?’

Feeling guilty because she could so easily be, Charlotte said, ‘No, of course not.’

Joan breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Then it would be a big mistake to rush into things. My advice is, take your time.’

‘We haven’t much time. You see, Simon would like his grandfather, who is terminally ill, to be present at the wedding, and—’

‘But we don’t know a thing about this Simon; we haven’t even set eyes on him. You might be making a terrible mistake, and you know what they say—marry in haste, repent at leisure…’

Seeing the hunted look on Charlotte’s face, Simon took the phone off her and said quietly, ‘Mrs Harris, this is Simon Farringdon. I realise the suddenness must have come as something of a shock for you, and I do apologise. However, all the arrangements are in place, and things will be going ahead as planned—’

‘I do think you should—’

‘It would give us great pleasure if you and your husband could get over for the wedding,’ Simon cut in smoothly. ‘And we’d be delighted if you would be our guests at Farringdon Hall.’

‘As it’s such short notice, I—’

‘There’s no need to worry about arranging flights; I’ll be happy to send the company jet for you.’

‘How very kind,’ she said faintly. ‘But I don’t think…’ Then in a rush, ‘To tell you the truth, I’m frightened to death of flying. Just the thought makes me ill—’

‘That’s a great pity, but we do understand.’

His voice holding a polite but decided finality, he added, ‘Now, as it’s so late, we’d better wish you goodnight. I’m sure Charlotte will fill you in on all the details when we get back from our honeymoon.’

He replaced the receiver, before asking half-jokingly, ‘How on earth did you survive?’

‘She loves me. It’s just that she’s always been overly concerned about me.’

‘So much concern must have been a little bit wearisome.’

‘Dad diluted it somewhat, and shortly after he died I went away to college.’

‘That must have been a relief.’

‘It was,’ she admitted. ‘Though at the time I felt terribly disloyal.’

He raised a level brow. ‘Why was that?’

‘Because I was one of the lucky ones,’ she said quietly. ‘Some of my fellow students had no one who cared, and everyone needs someone to love them and be concerned about them.’

A strange look flitted across his face, but before she could decipher it, it was gone.

Rising to his feet, he suggested, ‘Perhaps you’d like to take a look at the books, while I go and put Grandfather in the picture?’

Books had always been a pleasure to her and for the next fifteen minutes or so, putting aside the slight feeling of agitation caused by the phone call, she browsed happily.

She was sitting on the couch, a seventeenth-century volume open on her lap, when Simon returned. Coming over to sit by her side, he took her left hand and slipped a ring onto her fourth finger.

A single magnificent diamond in a simple gold setting, it fitted perfectly.

‘This was my mother’s, but if you don’t like it please don’t hesitate to say so, and tomorrow we’ll look for something else.’

‘It’s absolutely beautiful,’ she said huskily, and lifted her face for his kiss.

Instead of kissing her, however, with an almost businesslike air, he took a slim leather case from his pocket and flicked it open with his thumb nail.

On the blue velvet lining lay a thin gold chain with an exquisite, many-faceted diamond ‘teardrop’ that seemed to sparkle with an inner fire.

She caught her breath.

‘It would please Grandfather enormously if you would wear this on your wedding day.’

‘Is it a family heirloom?’

‘In a manner of speaking. In the early fifteen-hundreds it was given to Carlotta Bell-Farringdon by an Italian nobleman who was madly in love with her. Since then it’s been known as the Carlotta Stone, and, as Carlotta is the Italian form of Charlotte, it seems very fitting.’

Charlotte reached the stone gently. ‘It’s beautiful and I’d love to wear it,’ she said.

‘Ah, this appears to be Miss Macfadyen arriving.’

Following his gaze through the leaded window-panes Charlotte saw a grey chauffeur-driven limousine was just drawing up on the gravel apron.

‘If you want to go and meet her…?’ He closed the jewel case with a snap. ‘I’ll just lock this away before I join you.’

As she made to take off the ring, he said, ‘No, leave that on. I’d like you to wear it.’

A smile on her lips, Charlotte hurried outside to see Sojo descending from the car with all the panache of visiting royalty.

Her blonde hair had been newly washed and tamed into a shining, two-layered, shoulder-length bob. She was dressed up to the nines in her best jade-green trouser suit and a trailing scarf of the type that strangled Isadora Duncan.

While the chauffeur lifted out the luggage, her gaze ranging over the Hall, she exclaimed, ‘Imagine you living in a place like this…!’

Then, catching sight of Charlotte’s ring, ‘Wowee! Just look at the size of that rock! A family heirloom at a guess?’

‘It belonged to Simon’s mother.’

‘Do you know I’m black and blue? I’ve been pinching myself all the way here just to make absolutely sure I wasn’t dreaming.’

‘I must admit I’ve felt like doing the same,’ Charlotte confessed. ‘Everything’s happened so fast.’

‘You’re not kidding! By the way, the two big cases are full of your stuff. I’ve packed everything I could find, but if I’ve missed anything—’

‘Don’t worry, if it’s at all important I can always collect it later.’

‘Of course.’ Sojo looked relieved. ‘It’s just that when you said you wouldn’t be coming back, it sounded so final…’

Simon, who had joined them unnoticed, held out his hand. ‘Welcome to Farringdon Hall, Miss Macfadyen… I’m Simon Farringdon.’

He smiled at her, a smile that trebled his already powerful sex appeal.

Just for a second or two she goggled at him, then, recovering her poise, she shook his hand and said politely, ‘It’s nice to meet you, Mr Farringdon.’

Leading the way into the hall, he suggested, ‘I think it would be a good idea if we skipped the formalities and went on to first-name terms.’

Straight-faced, he suggested, ‘If you call me Simon, I’ll call you Sojourner.’

‘You will not! Or if you do, it’ll be at your peril!’ Then, seeing the gleam of devilment in his green-gold eyes, she grinned broadly. ‘I see Charlotte has already put you in the picture.’

‘How do you come to have such an interesting name?’ he asked blandly.

‘An aberration on my mother’s part.’ Darkly, she added, ‘Parents who give innocent little children interesting names have a lot to answer for.’

He acknowledged the riposte before saying, ‘I tend to agree with you. Where did she get Sojourner from?’

‘She’d just finished reading a novel called Southwest of Georgia. Would you believe she still can’t see what she did to me?’

‘Sojourner’s not that bad,’ Charlotte protested.

‘Go wash your mouth out with soap and water.’

At that instant Mrs Reynolds appeared.

A smile playing around his lips, Simon said, ‘Ann, this is Miss Macfadyen.’

‘It’s nice to meet you, Miss Macfadyen,’ the housekeeper greeted the newcomer cheerfully. ‘I’ve put you next door to Miss Christie. If you’d care to follow me, Martin will bring the luggage up.’

Sojo glanced at Charlotte, who, interpreting that silent plea, offered, ‘I’ll come with you so we can have a chat while you get settled in.’

‘When you girls come down I’ll be in the library,’ Simon told them. Then to Mrs Reynolds, ‘If you’re not too busy, Ann, perhaps we could have some tea?’

‘Certainly.’

It was obvious that he could do no wrong in the housekeeper’s eyes, and if he’d asked for the moon she would have done her best to provide it.

When the luggage had been brought up and the two girls were alone, Sojo, who had been obviously simmering, burst out excitedly, ‘Isn’t he just something! My fingers were itching to sketch him. Those eyes and that mouth—’ she shivered deliciously ‘—and those shoulders… He makes Wudolf look like an immature schoolboy.’

‘I thought you fancied Rudy?’ Charlotte teased.

‘I thought I did at the time. It just goes to show what a dearth of personable men there’s been in my life over the past couple of years.’

While Sojo unpacked her case, she continued to wax lyrical. ‘I find it most inspiring to know that men as gorgeous as Simon Farringdon do still exist. Though they’re obviously few and far between, so my chances of actually meeting one must be pretty slim,’ she added gloomily.

Then, brightening, ‘Still, it’s nice to feel the old libido stirring again.’

Hiding a smile, Charlotte queried, ‘Do I gather you fancy him?’

‘Like mad. He has enough sex appeal to set fire to a swamp,’ her friend declared.

‘But do you like him?’ Charlotte asked.

‘Yes, I do.’ Sojo’s answer was unequivocal. ‘Not only is he one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met, but even more important, he seems genuinely nice. I like the way he treats his staff. He’s also mature in a way that Wudolf never will be. If things didn’t go his way I can’t imagine Simon acting like a petulant child. Mind you, having said he’s nice, I don’t mean weak in any way. I imagine, if justified, he could be quite formidable. Not a man to cross swords with…’

The last of her things put away, she said enthusiastically, ‘Right. Ready when you are. Let me go and take another look at this idol, see if I can spot any feet of clay.’

‘I rather hope you can,’ Charlotte told her half seriously. ‘Perfection must be terribly hard to live up to.’

While they descended the stairs Sojo gazed around her with wide-eyed admiration. ‘If I asked him nicely, do you think he might find time to show me round the old ancestral home?’

‘I’m sure he will. He seems to genuinely love Farringdon Hall.’

‘What about you?’

‘It’s already starting to feel like home,’ Charlotte said simply.

Satisfied, Sojo nodded.

When they reached the library, Simon rose from behind his desk and joined them in front of the fire.

Waiting on the low table was a tray that held everything needed for tea, including dainty sandwiches and buttered scones.

As soon as the two women were seated side by side on the settee, Simon reached for the silver teapot and began to pour.