Page 1 of The Rake Desires the Diamond

Chapter one

June 26th, 1818

Lady Katrina Harrington had a brilliant plan.

Her hand-painted gold and black mask would surely garner her the first-place prize in the much-anticipated Yardley Manor Vizard Contest. Once she stood in front of her brother’s guests, accepting the red velvet ribbon, she’d capture the attention of her future husband.

Hundreds of flickering candles illuminated the vast ballroom, dappling over the gentleman she had designs on. Her heart pitter-pattered because he was so close she could almost reach out and touch him.

The earl cut a fine figure in his tan waistcoat. Not as superior as the masked man in green who posed and preened next to him. But Kat wasn’t interested in an unknown, spectacularlybuilt man with a beguiling smile. She had her sights on the influential Earl of Wellspring, Alexander Sparrow, considered the “catch of the season.” And since Kat was the luckiest woman in England, and she always got who and what she wanted, she’d surely have both the ribbon and the earl by the end of the evening.

However, if the rumors were true, the Earl of Wellspring was much too shy to approach while a half-dozen chattering ladies surrounded her at her brother’s masquerade ball. Therefore, Kat extricated herself from the other guests and waited at the edge of the ballroom.

As usual, good fortune smiled upon Kat, and the man in green strutted toward the balcony, leaving Lord Wellspring alone. How wonderful that the handsome earl had taken care to create his mask, endearing him to Kat even further. Peacock feathers adorned both corners, and his turquoise and purple jewels glittered beneath the chandelier’s glow. She caught his gaze and fluttered her fan. Hopefully, he received her message and soon approached because as much as she enjoyed having her choice of suitors, fending them off this particular evening had become tiresome.

At last, the earl met her gaze. For a moment, his visage remained emotionless. Perchance because he was shy? Unless… nay? Could it be that he wasn’t interested in her?

Wait. Were his lips turning upward? Yes, and oh my, his grin was charming. If she danced with him, she would surely witness those golden-brown eyes that had the eligible ladies of the ton clattering for his attention.

Since it was easier to be bold when hidden behind a mask and a fan, she shamelessly smiled.

The earl acknowledged her with a tilted chin, thereupon gliding toward her. He wasso graceful that he could be an Italian ballet dancer. When he finally proposed to Kat, every woman in England would envy her.

Lord Wellspring—she would call him my darling Alex once they married—was almost to her when two men approached and guided him in the opposite direction.

Piffle. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Kat fought to keep her bottom lip from sticking out. Pouting simply didn’t suit her. Instead, she’d seek the company of her family. Forcing a smile, she searched the sea of guests for Aunt Justine and her sister-in-law, Anna.

Unfortunately, Lord Greyson, an ill-tempered blackguard who didn’t even have the decency to wear a mask to a masquerade, seemed to appear out of nowhere, asking for her dance card. It wasn’t that he was entirely unattractive, for he dressed fashionably. However, his eyes were soulless and beady, and his blond hair stuck out in odd tufts that resembled hay, and he and his mother, the Dowager Marchioness of Greyson, were notorious talebearers who had ruined many a member of the ton with salacious gossip.

Thank the heavens above, her cousin Beth charged toward her.

“Please excuse us, Lord Greyson. I must speak to Lady Katrina at once about an urgent situation.” Beth grasped her arm.

“Call me Francis,” he called after them.

Exceedingly grateful, Kat didn’t fight Beth’s tug. “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered.

Beth yanked her into an empty alcove ensconced in shadow. She exhaled, then spoke quickly. “I need your help. Please do not say no.”

“Elizabeth Fletcher, I dare say, if you drag me into one of yourjumbles, so help me…”

Most of the time, Beth’s tomfoolery involved a man—or two—and Kat had developed an immunity to Beth’s wide-eyed, innocent look almost a decade ago.

“I need you to meet someone for me. Please tell him—”

Kat shoved her palm in her cousin’s face. “Absolutely not.”

Beth huffed. “Let me explain.”

“Fine,” Kat said, against her better judgment. “I am listening.”

“I am to meet a man on the outskirts of the estate. Our rendezvous is at a quarter past the stroke of midnight. But I cannot be there at that time.”

Good heavens, her flirtatious cousin enjoyed intrigue. Kat, however, could do without danger and scandal. Besides, she might still be reveling in adulation since the winner was to be announced at midnight.

Kat sighed. “You need me to meet him and explain that the liaison will not happen?”

Beth studied the ceiling as she murmured numbers. At long last, she cleared her throat. “Tell him to wait, and I will be there in fifteen minutes.”