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

‘Most of them are of the bloodline, the others are in-laws.’

As they paused in front of the portrait of a handsome, dark-haired man with a short, pointed beard, a luxuriant moustache and a rakish air, Sojo commented, ‘Now, he looks as though he could have been a bit of a lad.’

‘That’s a pretty fair assessment.’ Turning to Charlotte, Simon asked, ‘Can you guess who he is?’

‘Sir Roger Farringdon?’

‘Got it in one.’

‘Better known as the queen’s favourite,’ Charlotte added.

‘Why was that?’ Sojo asked innocently.

When Simon had explained, they strolled on while he named various people and gave brief details of their role in the family.

‘Who’s that?’ Sojo enquired, pointing to a picture of a beautiful young girl with high cheekbones and a passionate mouth. Her black hair was taken up into an elaborate chignon, and she was wearing a gold brocade evening gown and a magnificent teardrop diamond around her swan-like neck.

‘That’s Carlotta Bell-Farringdon,’ Simon answered.

‘I must say that’s some rock she’s wearing…if it’s real?’

‘Oh, yes, it’s real enough.’

As Sojo’s eyes widened, he explained, ‘The diamond was given to her by her lover, who was the descendant of a doge known as the Lion of Venice. It’s come to be called the Carlotta Stone.’

‘Did she and her lover marry?’

‘Unfortunately they weren’t able to. He already had a wife.’

‘So she died an old maid pining for him?’

‘Not at all. Shortly after the portrait was painted she married the Duke of Cessina.’

As they neared the end of the gallery, indicating three portraits by Samuel Launston, he said, ‘That’s Sophia and Joshua, my great-grandparents, and the young man next to them is Grandfather when he was twenty-one.’

‘I would have known,’ Charlotte said. ‘Other than getting older, Sir Nigel hasn’t altered all that much. He’s still a nice-looking man.’

‘Now, that’s strange…’ Leaning forward, Sojo was studying the portrait intently.

‘Strange in what way?’ Simon queried.

‘The young girl there, the delicate-looking one…she’s very like Charlotte.’

His expression impassive, Simon said nothing.

Returning her gaze to the picture, Sojo pursued, ‘She has the same-shaped eyes… And look at her ears… See what I mean? Small and neat, hardly any lobes? Just like Charlotte’s.’

She turned to Charlotte and, only half joking, asked, ‘You were adopted, weren’t you? So it’s possible you’re related to the girl in this picture in some way.’

Feeling uncomfortable, Charlotte said crisply, ‘The very idea’s ridiculous.’

Sojo sighed. ‘As I’ve said before, you have no sense of the dramatic.’

‘You’re very good at spotting a likeness.’ Simon observed admiringly.

‘A trained eye. Ever since I was able to hold a pencil I’ve sketched people. I spent a year at art school, hoping to become an artist, but it didn’t work out… So who is she?’

Glancing at Charlotte, Simon asked, ‘Who do you think she is?’

Gazing at the small, heart-shaped face, its childish beauty framed by a cloud of dark, silky hair, she ventured, ‘Mara?’

He nodded. As they moved on, turning to Sojo, he explained, ‘Grandfather had twin sisters. Mara was the younger one. She died when she was seven.’

‘And she’s your ghost?’ Sojo guessed shrewdly.

‘In a manner of speaking.’

‘Does she still haunt the place?’

‘No, I don’t believe she does. Though perhaps her spirit lingered for a while. Who knows?’

‘Sounds fascinating. Tell me more.’

‘I will over dinner tonight. I’m taking the pair of you to dance and dine at Rumplestiltskins.’

Fluttering her eyelashes at him, Sojo asked audaciously, ‘I take it there’s no chance of the car breaking down again on the way back?’

Simon looked at Charlotte.

As her cheeks grow hot and her grey eyes fell beneath that ironic gaze, he answered lightly, ‘‘Fraid not. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s never to use the same ruse twice.’

The last portrait was of a couple. A man who had an unmistakable look of Sir Nigel, and a flaxen-haired woman with tawny-green eyes whose face, rather than being merely pretty, was strong and full of character. She was wearing the ring that now graced Charlotte’s finger.

‘Your parents,’ Charlotte said to Simon with certainty.

‘Yes. As you can see, I take after my mother.’

‘I was wondering how you came to be blond,’ Sojo remarked, ‘when most of the Farringdons seem to have dark hair.’

As they left the gallery behind them, she added, ‘Well, thank you for the Grand Tour. I’ve really enjoyed it.’

‘My pleasure. Now, suppose you and Charlotte go and get your best bib and tucker on, and I’ll see you in the hall in about half an hour.’

‘It’ll have to be my second best. I’m saving my best dress for the wedding,’ Sojo teased.

‘There’s no need. Tuesday I’ll be taking the pair of you to town to shop for your wedding finery.’

‘You don’t mean…?’