Page 86 of Unmasking the Diamond
Their eyes met, and for one suspended heartbeat, neither of them moved. The letter, the investigation, the danger—all of it faded until there was only her.
Charlotte slipped her hand from his grasp, her fingers trembling as they left his. “I am not worthy of your praise,” she said, her voice heavy with sorrow.
Luca’s chest tightened. “It is not false praise,” he insisted. “It is the truth.”
Her eyes shimmered, unshed tears threatening to spill. “My whole life, I have been trying to prove myself—prove that my mother’s sacrifice was not in vain,” she whispered. “And I am tired, Luca. So very tired.”
He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a handkerchief, offering it to her. The gesture felt painfully inadequate in the face of her despair. “Then let me help you,” he said.
Charlotte took the handkerchief, staring at it as if uncertain what to do with his kindness. “How can you help me?”
“By convincing you that you areextraordinary,” he replied, stepping closer. “You are unlike any other woman I have ever met.”
Her lips curved in faint mockery. “Because I am the diamond?”
“Devil take it,” he muttered, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I do not care what title the queen bestowed upon you. I care aboutyou.”
The confession escaped before his better judgment could restrain it, but even as the words hung between them, he knew they were true. He did care for her—more deeply than was wise. She stirred something in him he could not name—something equal parts admiration and torment. He was halfway in love with her already, though he dared not speak it aloud. She wasn’t ready. And perhaps neither was he.
“I care about you, too,” she murmured, and those simple words stole the air from his lungs.
He took a steadying breath and placed his hand gently on her sleeve. “Then trust me, Charlotte,” he said. “You may wear a mask for the world to see, but the woman beneath it—the one you hide—is the one I wish everyone could see.”
“It is safer for me to hide behind a mask.”
He studied her, his thumb brushing unconsciously against the fine fabric of her gown. “In any given moment, we have two choices,” he said. “To step forward into growth or to retreat into safety. You’ve been retreating for far too long.”
She dabbed at her eyes with his handkerchief, her voice trembling. “I don’t even know if I can remove the mask anymore. It has become a part of me.”
“No,” he countered, his voice roughened by emotion. “It hasn’t. You’ve let other people’s opinions of you define who you think you are. But they don’t get to decide your worth.”
Charlotte gave a weak smile. “You make it sound so simple.”
He shook his head and let his hand slide down her arm until his fingers found hers again. Their hands fit together naturally, as though they had been waiting for this moment all along. “It isn’t simple,” he said. “But living a lie—pretending to be someone you’re not—is far more exhausting, is it not?”
She looked down at their joined hands, her thumb brushing lightly over his. “Even if I wanted to make a change, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Start here,” he encouraged. “Start by being true to yourself. You can’t change the past. It’s already written. But the future…” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “The future is yours to shape. You only need to believe it.”
Before Charlotte could respond, a familiar voice cut in.
“I do hope I am interrupting.”
Luca stiffened and turned, his pulse jolting. Lady Alcott stood a few paces away, her gloved hands clasped loosely before her, an unmistakable gleam of amusement in her eyes. How in the blazes had he not heard her approach?
Charlotte snatched her hand from his, the warmth between them vanishing instantly, and took a hasty step back. Her cheeks were still flushed, her composure only half-reassembled. “Jane… we were merely discussing…”
“The weather?” Lady Alcott suggested, one perfectly arched brow rising.
Charlotte forced a laugh that sounded altogether too high-pitched to be convincing. “Yes. The weather.”
Luca suppressed a smile. Of all the lies Charlotte could tell, that was the one she reached for?
Lady Alcott did not look persuaded. “I see,” she said slowly, her gaze sweeping over both of them before landing squarely on Luca. “I was merely curious if Lord Luca would like to join us for dinner this evening.”
Luca inclined his head in a bow. “I would be honored, my lady.” His tone was steady, though inwardly, he was grateful for the invitation. It would give him another chance to speak to Charlotte.
“Wonderful.” Lady Alcott smiled, though there was mischief glinting in her eyes. “I shall inform the cook. I must assume you’ll need to return home to change.”
