“Princesse.” Robert took my hands. “You are so beautiful.” He kissed my cheeks. “I was getting worried about you.”
“I’m sorry to be late—don’t tell me I’m the last to arrive.”
“Not a problem at all. Here, let me get you a glass of Champagne.” He removed one from a tray.
I felt Sebastian’s eyes on me from across the room. He was visiting with Alma and Lucy Richardson. He was too far away for me to read his expression, but at that moment, I wondered if he sensed the threat, if he knew it was now all-out war, and I was going to win. He smiled at me affectionately, as did I at him. I don’t think he had a clue.
I looked around. It was a small group of only forty or fifty. I’ve never seen more beautiful women in more beautiful gowns or with more stunning jewelry—gorgeous, enormous new designs as well as estate pieces that had been around in family vaults for decades, even centuries—only brought out for family weddings or occasions such as tonight’s. It reminded me of a documentary I saw of a private dinner held by the queen and all the guests had on their best things. Jewels far too opulent and valuable to wear in public. Jewels that only a handful of insiders—royalty, old money and discreet superrich—were ever permitted to see. It was an inside look few get to take.
A small chamber orchestra played in the background. Oscar was nowhere in sight, which was probably a good thing—he would be a wet blanket at such a gala occasion.
“Margaret.” George appeared, looking very distinguished in his white tie. The silver cross of the Order of the British Empire hung around his neck from its distinctive dark pink ribbon. A number of men had on such official awards and decorations, sashes and medals. If George had had a monocle around his neck, he would have looked like a nineteenth-century diplomat. “You must have one of these.” He handed me a twist of crispy bacon. “The girl told me it’s brushed with maple syrup and then baked until all the fat is out of it. Have you ever had anything so delicious?”
I took a bite. “Never. But believe me, George, all the fat isn’t out of it.”
He laughed. “You’re my partner in crime. Let’s have one more and then go see Alma. She was asking about you.”
Alma looked much stronger than she had two days ago and I wondered if she’d gone to the hospital and had those monkey gland shots herself. Her skin had good color, her nails shone with bright red polish, and her eyes were clear and sparkling. She had diamond combs in her hair and a necklace of diamond, sapphire, and emerald beads that was so extravagant it was outrageous. It almost could make the Cambridge and Delhi Durbar parure in my pocket look like trinkets from a toy box. She and I greeted each other warmly. Her eyes fell on the pink diamond pendant. “Is that real?” she whispered, holding up a cigarette for her little butler aide-de-camp, Cookson, to light.
“I think so,” I said. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Sensational.”
Sebastian kissed my hand. “Princesse. So glad you could make it—we were about to call.”
“I’ve got it!” Lucy said. “I just remembered where we met.”
“Give it a rest, Lucy,” Al said sharply. “You’ve never met her, all right? Don’t bring it up again.”
I almost burst out laughing at the expression on Lucy’s face. It seemed the honeymoon might be nearing its conclusion.
At the far end of the room, tall double doors opened and a footman in a red satin waistcoat appeared. He rang a small chime. Dinner was served.
“Shall we?” Robert said, and offered me his arm.
The ballroom was too small to be called a ballroom and too large to be called a music room. It was the perfect size for this group. The walls were mirrored and blazed with the light from multitiered crystal chandeliers. Six round tables of eight covered with cloth of gold, votive candles in golden orbs, gleaming silver and crystal, and low arrangements of dark red roses were in a horseshoe around one end of the dance floor. A fifteen-piece orchestra was on a low stage at the other.
I sat with our gin rummy group—except for Sebastian, who was hosting a table of his own—between Al Richardson, who also wore an OBE medal, and George. I ignored Lucy. Whether or not she’d been the one to break in to my house, she had no role in this evening’s caper. She flirted with every man who got anywhere near our table, presumably in an effort to make Al jealous or get him back for his reprimand.
The first course was served, and no sooner had I taken a bite than Robert asked me to dance. Then George. Then Al. Then Robert again. And so it went. Our wineglasses were never empty and there were constant smiles on all our faces. It was a fairy tale evening and if I didn’t have a duty before me, it was the sort of night one would wish would never end. I kept checking for a sign of Thomas, but there was none.
Before dessert was served, I joined the exodus of ladies going to powder our noses. The small powder room under the stairs was in use with two women waiting, so I went up. Lights were on in the guest rooms, and I could hear ladies in both of them chatting, repairing their lipstick and waiting their turn. The opposite end of the hall where Robert and Sebastian’s rooms were located was in darkness and their doors were closed. I lifted my black satin shawl fully around my shoulders and neck so from the back I had no skin showing at all, making myself as close to invisible as I could, and disappeared into the shadows.
I went to the door of their shared study, put my hand on the knob, took a deep breath and turned. The door opened soundlessly. I closed and locked it behind me. The room was in deep shadows except for dim light that glowed from a green shaded lamp on top of the desk and from the picture light above the painting that covered the safe.
I stepped quickly to the painting and gave it a little pull. It didn’t budge. I ran my fingers up the sides—a long hinge ran along the left. A small spring latch at the top right kept it closed. I pushed the latch and the painting swung away, revealing the safe. I was surprised it wasn’t more sophisticated. It was a simple electronic lock—simple if you had the proper equipment, which I did, but impossible if you didn’t. I pulled my cell phone/scanner out of my left pocket, keyed in a series of commands, and within seconds, the safe was open. Navy blue leather cases with the queen’s jewelry were stacked neatly inside. I ripped each one open and thrust the pieces into my left pocket as fast as I could, then I pulled the fake suite out of my right and began replacing them.
“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice said behind me.
I spun around. It was Alma.
She was holding a gun.
F I F T Y - T H R E E
“Alma!” I said. “My God, you scared me to death.”
The fake Cambridge and Delhi Durbar parure necklace dangled from my hand like booty scooped from a trunk in Ali Baba’s cave.
“Give them to me, Margaret.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said give them to me.”
I don’t know what kind of gun she was holding, but it was big—almost as big as mine, the elephant stopper—and was made even larger by the presence of a silencer. Her hand was as steady as a rock.
“What do you mean? This is the evidence I needed, Alma. Look.” I held out my hand. “I found them, the queen’s jewels, right here in Sebastian’s safe. And now they can be returned, and he can be brought to justice.” I continued to lay the fake pieces in their cases. “You know, none of this would have happened without your help. I imagine the queen will even give you a medal for your assistance.” My breath and hands were steady in spite of having a gun pointed at my head for the first time in my life.
“I already have lots of medals,” she said. “Put the jewels down. I spoke with an Inspector Thomas Curtis this afternoon. I told him his agent was here on the scene, I even described you to him and he didn’t know what I was talking about.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he said he had no inspector on the scene.”
“That’s not true.”
“You’ll have to take that up with him. He wanted to kno
w where Mont-St.-Anges was and I told him, but I’m afraid I left out a couple of key coordinates. We don’t need any police help here. We handle our own affairs.”
I felt an icy presence behind me, as though a grave had opened. Sebastian. He stepped silently up beside me.
“Sebastian,” she ordered. “Please be so kind as to take the parure from Margaret Whoever-she-is and remove that pink diamond pendant from her necklace while you’re at it.”
“Alma.” He licked his lips. “Please put that gun away. It’s not necessary.”
Alma’s eyes were dark and cold and I suddenly realized with complete certainty that she actually intended to kill me.
I opened my mouth to speak, but for a second, no words would come out. “Wait a minute,” I finally blurted. “Are you telling me you’re in this together?”
“Sebastian,” she warned.
“Alma,” I said, “why are you doing this? For heaven’s sake, you’re the richest woman in the world. The jewelry you have on tonight is far superior to these pieces.”
“What do you know about jewelry? What do you know about being crippled and spending your life in a wheelchair?”
“Nothing. But I know you could be making a difference in the world.” The whole time I was talking I was trying to figure out what to do, but kept drawing a blank. “Instead you have some silly little butler steal things for you?”
“I am not a silly little butler,” Sebastian snapped.
“Alma,” I said. “Just put down the gun. Let me take Sebastian into custody and let’s forget this happened.”
“Sebastian. The diamond, please.”
“Now, Alma …” He stepped in front of me and held his hand out for the gun. His fear was palpable and I was impressed by his courage.
“Now,” she ordered.
He turned to face me and his hands shook as he unhooked the pink diamond.
I had nothing to lose. I leaned toward him.
“You’re breaking one of the first rules, Sebastian,” I whispered. “You’re trembling. I overestimated you. Forgive me for this.” With that, I jammed my knee into his groin as hard as I could and shoved on his shoulder, making him fall back toward Alma. At the same time, I threw the necklace in her face with all the force I could muster and dove for the floor just as the gun went off.
“Oof,” Sebastian groaned.
I scrambled to my feet and started running. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sebastian crumpled on the floor and then, across from him in a dark corner, behind Alma, I caught a glimpse of Oscar’s unmistakeable silhouette in the dim glow. He’d seen the whole thing and wasn’t making a move to stop it.
“Oh, my God,” Alma cried. “Sebastian. Sebastian, are you all right?”
Out the door I flew. Down the hall. I tore open the door that I prayed led to the back stairs, and I was right. I closed it behind me and ran down the steps as fast as I could. When I got to the bottom I put my ear against the door and listened—only regular kitchen sounds. I took a breath to calm myself, went into the unattended cloakroom and found my cape. Then I walked through the busy kitchen as though I owned the place and down the service stairs to the stable yard.
All the grooms were in the tack room, watching television and playing cards. I slipped past, undetected, and went out the door. The stable yard was dark, filled with sleighs and surrounded by stalls. Black Diamond stuck her head out of her stall and whinnied softly.
“Thank you, you beautiful girl,” I whispered. I crossed the yard and opened the stall door and took her by the bridle. Thank God she still had her harness on, otherwise I’d be in a terrible mess. All I had to do was find our sleigh and hitch her up. Since we’d been the last to arrive, ours was the closest to the entrance.
I worked frantically to get her hitched. It was too dark to be able to see everything I needed to see on the complicated harness. Without warning, the door opened, throwing a wedge of light across the yard. I froze and ducked behind Black Diamond and peeked around her. My heart was beating so hard, if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought it could give me away. A groom came out, went to one of the stalls, and spoke softly to his horse, and then went back inside.
Finally, I got all the buckles buckled correctly and all the hooks hooked. I climbed in and off we went into the dark, snowy night—without benefit of headlamps—toward the center of town and the distant heliport.
I wanted to go faster, but neither Black Diamond nor I could see much, so I kept her to a medium trot. All of a sudden, flashing lights appeared through the snow. An ambulance. It must have been for Sebastian. I wondered if Alma had killed him. Wouldn’t that be ironic? And fitting. And grand.
The emergency lights whirled closer. I knew it was an ambulance, but as far as my horse was concerned it might as well have been the Monster from the Black Lagoon or Godzilla coming to eat her up. She’d been raised in this valley and had never seen nor heard a motorized vehicle, and certainly never seen flashing red and blue and white lights, nor heard a siren. She went completely crazy. As the ambulance passed us, she screamed and reared, and then bolted down the road in a dead run. She was uncontrollable. I held on to the reins and the front edge of the sleigh for dear life as it swayed wildly behind her, frightening her even more. I knew there was a sharp corner coming up, so I tightened my grip. She never slowed her stride. We galloped full speed into the corner in a total panic. The harness snapped and the sleigh was instantly airborne. I sailed into the air like a doll.
F I F T Y - F O U R
The landing knocked the wind out of me and I lay, deep in the snow, trying to get my breath and make sure I was still alive. The sleigh lay on its side a few meters away. Black Diamond was nowhere to be seen and I supposed she was probably back home by now. I tried to move but a searing pain shot up my leg.
“Ow,” I yelled into the wind. This was a legitimate ow, not my pretend one from my fall in front of Robert Constantin’s house. Something was seriously wrong.
I made myself as comfortable as I could. Someone would find me sooner or later, and while I waited, I tried to figure out exactly what had happened and how the hell I was going to get out of here now.
I’d overestimated Sebastian and underestimated Alma. How incredibly bizarre—the richest woman in the world needing to possess stolen jewelry. Money does terrible things to people and she’d let the bitterness and resentment at being an invalid consume her. What a total waste of life. Once I’d gotten over my little bout of being somewhat starstruck when I’d first met her in Paris and realized that she had a bitter, angry, unkind side to her, I forgave her that because of her life in pain and in a wheelchair. Never in a million years would I have imagined anything like this. And, she’d completely outmaneuvered me. She’d planned to get rid of me from the moment I mentioned Prince Frederick, Sebastian, and the jewelry. She’d set me up. Gone out of her way to befriend and assist me. To bring me to Mont-St.-Anges so she could control and eliminate me. I shivered. It was just too bizarre to comprehend.
And where did George figure in this? I couldn’t even imagine.
“I bet this has gone on for years,” I said out loud into the empty silence of the night. I wondered if some of the pieces she’d been wearing like that incredible, unforgettable diamond bead necklace tonight, had been stolen for her by Sebastian.
Poor Sebastian. He’d made a deal with the devil and gotten in over his head. I wondered if he was all right. I hoped Alma hadn’t killed him.
In spite of my long fur wrap, it was getting very cold sitting there in the snow and still, not a single sleigh had gone by. Finally, down the way, I saw the ambulance’s headlights, and as they drew closer, I started to yell and wave my arms.
“Help! Help!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Thankfully, the lights hit on the overturned sleigh and then me in the distance.
The paramedics waded through the snow. Once the formalities were over—Was I all right? No, something’s happened to my leg—they retrieved a stre
tcher. After much whimpering from me—I’ve never handled pain well at all—they laid me on it and carried me to the open doors of the van where Sebastian Tremaine lay on a stretcher, a thick dressing on his left shoulder. He was bawling like a baby.
“Oh, good heavens,” I said as they slid my stretcher in and locked it into place. “What have we here?”
“Sorry, madam,” the man said. “But there’s only a short way to go.”
I nodded and tried not to burst out laughing. Before we left, they salvaged my two travel satchels from the storage box on the back of my broken sleigh and placed them inside the bay door before slamming it shut and leaving Sebastian and me alone.
“Well, well, well,” I said. “Look at you, all shot up. Rather overplayed your hand, I’d say.”
“Oh, shut up.” He sniffled and tried to get himself under control.
“I’m afraid your brilliant career is over, Bradford.”
He looked at me wide-eyed.
“That is your correct name, isn’t it? Bradford Quittle, most recently of the queen’s service? I think your next stop will be Wormwood Scrubs. I bet they have a lovely cell all ready with your name on it.”
“I’d die before I’d go to that hellhole. And you’re wrong. Alma will protect me—she has to. I know too much. And besides, I’m the only one who can get her what she wants.”
“So it was you who broke into my chalet.”
“Of course it was me—she was longing for that bow pin in your fur hat.”
“Does Robert know about this?” I asked.
“Good heavens, no. Robert lives on the moon.” Sebastian moaned. “My shoulder is killing me. I can’t believe she actually shot me.”
“Why does she do it?”
Sebastian looked at me as though I’d just asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “Because she’s insane. Literally. Why do you think George keeps her out of the spotlight? She’s mad as a hatter. You think Cookson the butler is there to serve her? He’s her attendant. She really should be institutionalized. She certainly was off her dope tonight—Cookson will have hell to pay for that. As far as I know, she’s never done anything like this before. I can’t image how she got her hands on a gun. I wonder if it was mine. Owwww,” he whined again. “This hurts so much. They should have given me more morphine.”
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