Page 20 of A Lady's Wager
“Derrick, is this wise?” Her blissful voice contradicted her cautionary words.
He sighed, lips still against her skin. “I assume not. But I’m a terrible judge where wisdom should be involved.”
“You made that quite clear on our first meeting,” she said through a laugh. Then she tensed. “James…”
Derrick reluctantly released her. He couldn’t bemoan her younger brothers—after all, young Bradford had practically introduced them, and James had given them a multitude of excuses to spend time nearly alone—but sometimes this littlest brother popped up at inconvenient moments.
James scampered toward them, showing no sign he’d witnessed what had transpired. He held up a brown stone a little larger than his fist. “I’ve found one, Corah!”
“Have you?” she asked breathlessly, reaching a hand up to the cheek where he’d kissed her.
“This is one. I know it.” The boy shoved it in Derrick’s direction. “Open it.”
“Open it,please,” his sister corrected.
“Please!”
Derrick chuckled, taking the stone and finding a large, flat rock to set it on. It seemed like too ordinary a thing to contain anything that resembled diamonds. He pounded it several times with another rock while James leaned ever closer to get a look. “Careful,” Derrick said. “You don’t want me to slip and hit your nose.” With a crack, the rock fell apart, exposing glittering crystals with a yellow tint.
“Diamonds!” James cried.
Derrick picked up a small piece and held it up to the light. So unassuming a stone, and yet such beauty contained inside it.
“Look at that,” Corah said, crouching beside the rock with her brother. “How lovely.”
“We can buy a castle with this, I should think,” the boy said. “Which castle shall we buy? Kirkby Park?”
She laughed. “I’m not sure one rock will be quite enough for a castle. Here, help me put the pieces in the bag.”
Derrick ran his thumb over the hexagonal facets of the crystal. Two months ago he wouldn’t have expected his stay in Bristol to be anything more than a visit to one of his grandmother’s friends. He hadn’t intended to find someone he’d struggle to leave. Of course he knew young Bradford was from Bristol and intended to make himself known to the family. Perhaps flirt a little with the older sister who could not be as wonderful as the midshipman made her out to be. But Richard Bradford hadn’t exaggerated. There were diamonds in Bristol, and not in the gorge. He pocketed the piece of crystal. James wouldn’t mind, would he?
The boy found a few more potential geodes before they returned, but only one turned out to have a little crystal inside. Even though he didn’t find the loads of diamonds he’d intended, James chatted happily as the phaeton traveled back to Kirkby Park.
Corah sat close to Derrick, her face sometimes glowing and sometimes troubled. She didn’t bring up his departure again, but the fact it stayed at the forefront of her mind was written on her features. Derrick banished the impending separation with difficulty. Memory of the feel of her cheek under his kiss kept him duly distracted, and even more so the wish that he’d had the chance to catch her lips as well.
Afternoon had faded to evening by the time he returned to Mrs. Stewart’s house. He bounded up the steps and throughthe door, tossing his hat and cloak to the unprepared footman. Where were they to dine? He couldn’t remember, but it wasn’t with Mr. Colston’s family. How was he to keep his focus on any of their company? He strode toward the stairs.
“Derrick?”
He pivoted toward the voice coming from the sitting room. “Did you have a pleasant day, Mrs. Stewart?” he asked.Hecertainly had.
“Perfectly wonted.” She rose serenely from the sofa.
“What is on the schedule this evening?” He felt his pocket for the piece of crystal. Still there, just like the intoxicating sense of being with Corah that lingered about him.
“You received letters today,” his hostess said, extending two paper rectangles, one sealed with a wafer and the other with wax. An anchor sat in the middle of the red wax.
Derrick’s shoes felt nailed to the floor. The letters were upside down, their directions hidden, but he didn’t need to see them. Distant thoughts battered his head, pounding like rock against rock until they burst into his mind. Part of him had hoped this wouldn’t come, ridiculous as that was. He reached for the letters as slowly as if moving through an icy sea.
With unsteady fingers, he took the pages and turned them over. The one sealed with a wafer had directions from Captain J. King in Deptford. King! The lucky devil. They’d been lieutenants together on theBountifulbefore King was made post-captain. So he’d finally received a ship. Pride for his friend’s success should have overwhelmed him, but the wax-sealed letter from the Admiralty at Whitehall weighed too heavily in his hand. Air fled from his lungs.
There was only one reason he’d get a letter from his newly commissioned friend and the Admiralty at the same time, and it meant this dream in Bristol had come to an end.
CORAH FLICKED HER CHEEK WITHthe end of her quill as she watched the sun rise through the trees. She really ought to write to John at Oxford. It had been a few weeks since last she received word from him, and she’d failed to respond. He’d want to know Helen had recovered, among other things. The blank page before her didn’t entice her to write as it usually did.
The door burst open, and she dropped the pen. Her cousin rushed in shrieking.
“Melinda!” Corah rose, a hand to her chest to still her pounding heart. “Mercy, what are you about?”
