Desire Wears Diamonds by Renee Bernard

appointed space, with shelves of “treasures” Sterling had
collected from all over the world. He had a penchant for religious
figurines and small portraits with eyes that met your gaze no
matter where you stood in the room. It was a disconcerting feeling
to be so coldly watched by dozens of eyes and they had secretly
inspired more than one of her ghost stories.
    She made quick work of the dusting, stopping
only to stick her tongue out at a particularly ugly statuette of a
fat man whose turban was in the midst of transforming into a snake.
He smirked at her with a brass grin nonplussed. “Enjoy the jest,
horrid thing,” she whispered. “I’m betting you wouldn’t be so
content if you knew how quickly you’d end up in the rubbish bin if
I had my say in the matter.”
    “Grace!” Sterling exclaimed from the
doorway. “Tell me you are not talking to my artwork!”
    She wheeled around, instantly anxious. “Of
course not!”
    Sterling crossed his arms. “Then who were
you addressing just then?”
    She folded her hands in front of her. “I was
merely speaking my thoughts aloud, brother.”
    “A horrible habit you will break instantly!”
he announced as he came into the room. “Bad enough that you speak
your mind when there are human beings in the room, sister, much
less nattering away like a lunatic!”
    “As bad as that? I’ll refrain from thinking
aloud.” She tried to tease him out of his dark mood. “But the
houseplants will be so disappointed to miss our chats.”
    “Grace!” His eyes darkened with fury. He
moved to take a seat behind his desk before making one impatient
gesture toward the chair across from him. “Sit.”
    “Yes.” She dutifully perched on the
upholstery and waited expectantly, trying to ignore the taste of
dread that flooded her mouth. “You look displeased.”
    He shook his head. “I want to talk to you
about this upcoming dinner.”
    “Of course. It was very generous of you
to—“
    “You’ll wear your best gown and you’ll make
an effort to limit your comments to the most innocuous and
inoffensive topics allowed.” Her brother pulled his pipe from a
carved wooden box on the desktop and began to light it. “I want you
to be as agreeable and appealing as humanly possible.”
    Grace blinked a few times, unwilling to
trust her ears. “My best gown? Is Mr. Rutherford…is he truly a good
friend then that you’re so anxious to—“
    “What he is to me is none of your concern,”
Sterling said firmly. The match in his fingers flared as it caught,
creating a fleeting distortion of his features in its light.
“You’ll be on your best behavior, Grace, and strive not to
disappoint or embarrass me.”
    She nodded. “I always do. But appealing? I’m not sure I understand what you’re
asking.”
    He rolled his eyes. “What did I ever do to
deserve you?”
    She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from
giving him a witty answer and instead held her place and her
tongue.
    Sterling cleared his throat and tried again.
“This evening is very important to me. For once, do as you are
told. Behave.”
    “Yes.”
    “I won’t keep you from your duties any
longer.” He said dismissively and then leaned back in his chair,
drawing on his pipe.
    She stood slowly. “I’ve spoken to Mrs.
Dorsett about the menu and amended it for presentation and for
economy. I’ve arranged to have two extra servants to make things
run more smoothly and to allow for a good impression.” She let out
a slow breath to steady her nerves. “Rather than just behaving like
a lady, I hope my brother is wise enough to allow me to act like
one and organize the social details as I see fit.”
    His gaze narrowed but he finally nodded. “By
all means.”
    She left at his concession, turning on her
heels and departing with as much dignity as she could muster. Her
confusion about Mr. Rutherford’s return was coalescing into a
strange storm but there was no remedy for it.
    Sterling’s reversal toward Mr.