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

‘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?’