“Has he reached out to you?”
That, dear reader, was my husband’s real question. Sebastian operated under the unfortunate delusion that he was in love with me, and had, periodically, left small gifts and romantic notes for me. That the notes were written in ancient Greek infuriated Colin, who, although he steadfastly insisted that he was not jealous, felt it was not fighting fair to appeal to my love of the classics.
“I would have told you.”
“The Englishman in the turban,” he said. “It could be Capet.”
I groaned. The turban would have provided Sebastian with just the sort of theatrical flair he adored. “It is possible, but I do not think he would steal anything from guests in my parents’ house.”
“He knows how you feel about your mother,” Colin said. “He might consider it a way of paying you a delicate attention.”
I chewed on my lip, unable to deny the possibility.
“The thing is, my dear, I have found the diamond.”
“That is wonderful!”
“Not entirely,” he said. “It was in your jewelry case.”
“Mine? You cannot possibly think—”
“That you took it on Sebastian’s behalf?” His smile, as always, reduced me to a pleasant pool of jelly. “No, I do not think that, although as to what your mother might say …”
“If Sebastian took it, he would not have left it among my possessions,” I said. “He would never do anything to impugn my character.”
“Other than sneak into your bedroom to leave roses and love notes,” Colin said. It was true, this had been a preferred method of his.
“Was the bangle there as well?” I asked.
“No.” Colin stood and ran a hand through his curly hair, leaving it a tousled—and extremely attractive—mess. “I have only the diamond, which I understand is of no use without the bangle.”
“That is correct.”
“Your mother will be displeased,” he said. “I suppose there is no point delaying the inevitable.” He took my hand. “You have heard nothing from Capet?”
“Are you jealous?”
“Not in the least,” he said, his voice almost a purr. “Should I be?”
“Of course not,” I said, touching him lightly on the cheek. “Nonetheless, it would do no harm for you to take whatever actions you feel necessary to ensure that no other man could draw my notice.” He kissed me with such thorough attention and consummate skill that I all but forgot the stolen jewels. “I do wish you would pretend to be jealous more often.”
* * *
Colin had returned the Star of the East to the case in which it had been stored, and we gathered my parents and their guests in the library, an act to which my mother strenuously objected on a variety of grounds. First, she thought it unconscionable to subject the entire group to what she referred to as an act of mass interrogation. She refused to answer my charge that the phrase was ridiculous. Second, she felt that the library was an unfit venue for such an occasion. Evidently, in the best families, a drawing room would be preferable. She did not deign to reply when I asked her if the best families were often subjected to acts of mass interrogation. Colin shot me a look that told me I was on the verge of pushing the matter too far, so I took a seat as distant from my mother as possible without being overtly rude.
“It grieves me that I am not able to return all that was stolen from you,” my husband said, standing in front of the maharaja and handing him the box. “I understand that the diamond alone is not wearable.”
“It was in Emily’s room all this time?” the maharini asked.
“It appears so,” I said, “but I must assure you that I have not the slightest idea how it came to be there.”
“I do not doubt it,” the maharaja said. As he spoke, I noticed Ranjit glowering in the corner.
“Have I said something that displeases you?” I asked him.
“No, Emily, you are far too affable to do any such thing,” Ranjit said. “I am concerned that the bangle is still missing. It suggests to me that whoever took the diamond was less interested in the value of the piece than in rendering it worthless to my family.”
“I have spoken with colleagues of mine in London,” Colin said. “They are aware at present of no threats to your family and are convinced this matter is nothing more than a common theft.”
“If it were, why would the tika, which is of greater value than a single bangle, have been returned?” I asked. “I am confident that there is something more to it. Papa, what time did Mr. Benton call this morning?”
“Quite early, but that is not unusual,” my father said. “We often breakfast together.”
“It snowed so much last night I am surprised he made the trip,” I said.
“His house is not more than six miles away, Emily,” he said. “It is a pleasant enough ride, even in the snow.”
“Did he mention the tika?” I asked.
“As a matter of fact, he did,” my father said, “but only to comment on its striking beauty—he did make a point of saying that it was nothing compared to its wearer—he was not aware that it had been stolen. Nor was I at the time, you may recall.”
A funny noise escaped from my mother’s throat. “Mr. Benton has never married,” she said. “Perhaps he is hoping that you might consider an English husband for Sunita.”
Ranjit sounded as if he was choking, and the maharaja laughed. “When the time comes, we will consider all reasonable offers. But we are years away from that.”
Sunita stood up and stamped her foot. “I have friends younger than I who already have children.” Her parents ignored her. “But if anyone cares, I would not consider Mr. Benton’s proposal, should he ever offer one. I want to live in India.”
“Fine, fine,” her father said. “Do sit down.”
“Mr. Drayton, you are the only one here unaffected by the theft,” my mother said. “What do you have to say to that?”
“I am afraid I do not quite understand, Lady Bromley.” Ned looked as if his collar had suddenly become too tight.
“Sunita cannot wear the diamond without the bangle. Her parents have, as a result, all but lost one of their most valuable assets. Ranjit, should he want to marry, would not be able to deck his bride out in the family’s finest—”
“She would not be allowed to wear it regardless,” Sunita said. “The diamond is to be mine.”
“If Father says—” Ranjit began, but his sister interrupted at once.
“He won’t. You know he won’t.”
“I do not think that is relevant in the present circumstances,” Colin said. “If I may, Lord Bromley, I should like to ring Mr. Benton and speak to him.”
“Of course, my dear chap, whatever you need.”
“I would also like each of you to meet with me privately. The earl has been kind enough to offer the use of his study. Perhaps we could start with the maharini?”
“Have you questioned all of the servants?” my mother asked. “Is it not obvious to everyone that one of them is our culprit?”
“It is not obvious at all, Lady Bromley,” Colin said. “Your Highness, may I escort you to the study?” He gave his arm to the maharini. Knowing that he would not object, I followed. My mother called out to me as I left the room, but I chose to pretend not to hear. It took little more than an hour to question the members of our party, and once the last—Ranjit—had left us, I dropped my head into my hands and sighed.
“Does anyone have a motive?” I asked. “No one seems to benefit from this theft, particularly now that the diamond has been returned.”
“That may have occurred because the guilty party was afraid of being caught,” Colin said.
“Surely you agree the fact that we do not have the bangle is significant?”
“I do. Both pieces were stolen. It would make much more sense if Sunita were trying to avoid being married rather than the contrary,” he said.
“Agreed, but that is not the case,” I said. “I do not suspect the
servants. They are all too terrified of my mother to do such a thing.”
“And they know they would be the first to be suspected. We must consider them, however. A gold bangle is easier to sell than an enormous diamond, and it would be worth a considerable sum. What do you know about Sally?”
“Not much. Her family lives not far away, and she has been in service here since I was approximately eighteen years old. So far as I know, from having questioned her, she has no ill relatives desperate for a physician, no unpaid debts, and no profligate brothers who may be begging her to offer them financial assistance.”
“Mrs. Fitton thought the same,” Colin said. “Still, Sally was the one who raised the alarm—”
“Which could have been a brilliant move, if she were responsible for the theft,” I said. “It would be natural to assume the guilty party would not want to draw attention to it.”
“She also would have had ready access to our room, and could have slipped the diamond in with your jewelry.”
“And if the bangle were all she really wanted, she might have hoped that once the diamond was recovered, no one would care about a mere bracelet. Sunita has scores of them, and I know the servants will have noticed that.”
“Quite,” Colin said. “It is as good a theory as any we have right now.”
“We should consider the family,” I said. “The maharaja or his wife might have wanted the set broken up in an attempt to discourage Sunita from pushing so hard for a marriage. They want her to wait, after all, and she knows she is expected to wear the tika as part of her wedding outfit, just like every bride before her. Without the bangle, there can be no marriage.”
“I do not think the maharaja would go to such lengths. If he forbids his daughter to be married, she will not be married, regardless of a bangle. Furthermore, I am confident that no one truly believes that without the bangle, there can be no wedding. There is no shortage of jewels in the family. I am certain another tika would do.”
“That’s probably true, although I do rather like the idea of a specific tika being essential. Think of it—a bride, desperate to be saved from what she is certain will be an unhappy marriage, hires a thief to steal the tika in an attempt to put off the wedding.”
“Emily.” Colin crossed his arms across his chest.
“Yes, yes, I shall save it for my sensational novel. Unless you think Sunita would have stolen it herself?”
“To achieve what?” Colin asked. “She has made it perfectly clear she wants nothing more than to be married. Your narrative doesn’t fit.”
“Then there is Ranjit,” I said. “What if he thinks the set should belong to him, not to his sister? They have all said it has been in the family for centuries, which suggests it is given to the prince’s wife, not to a sister who would take it with her to her husband’s home.”
“It has been in the family for centuries, but it goes from mother to daughter,” Colin said. “The maharaja explained this to me last night at dinner. His wife brought the set with her when she married him, and it has always been intended for Sunita. Ranjit stands to inherit enough wealth that I do not think he would miss any diamond, even one so spectacular as the Star of the East.”
“No one—not even a maharaja—is that wealthy,” I said. “I think you should make delicate inquiries to see if Ranjit has a prospective bride in mind. If so, she may be insisting on having the Star for herself.”
“There is also Drayton to consider.” Colin paused. “He is not wealthy, he admitted as much to us when we questioned him. He would have the same motive Sally might. The bangle would go a long way to erasing his debts.”
“I am always suspicious of anyone who seems to be so perfect a gentleman, impoverished or not,” I said, “but if he were truly in dire straits wouldn’t he be more likely to turn to Ranjit for help rather than steal from his family?”
“Yes,” he said. “I think it unlikely in the extreme that he would steal something from his best friend’s sister. However, I must tell you, my dear, that your mother pulled me aside to admonish me not to discount you as a suspect.”
“You must be joking.”
“She feels that you may have perpetrated the theft simply to ruin her party.”
My face flushed hot. “How could she think me so full of spite?”
“No one who knows you could ever consider you spiteful, my dear. I am only sorry that she cannot better appreciate you.”
Tears smarted in my eyes. “She never will. She has always despised me.”
“I do not believe that,” he said, taking me in his arms. “She has always wanted what she considers to be best for you, and the trouble comes from the two of you having such divergent ideas about what that is. Because she cannot comprehend the life you have chosen to lead, she feels as if she has lost her center and somehow failed you.”
“And chooses to counter that by lashing out against me?”
“It was not intended in that way,” he said. “She seemed more concerned that I consider the possibility in order that no one could criticize the results of the investigation, no matter what they might be.”
“Yet she has gone to the trouble of assigning a motive to me.”
“She did apologize to me—not, mind you, for questioning the moral integrity of my wife—but for raising a daughter who might be suspected of such a thing.”
“She is nothing if not consistent,” I said, sighing. “The whole thing makes me rather pleased that this happened in her house. Perhaps I am full of spite after all.”
While Colin rang Mr. Benton, I set about considering how I might make contact with Sebastian. We had not seen him for years, not since a series of dark days in Normandy, when I nearly lost my life in the pursuit of a murderer. Afterwards, Sebastian had agreed to assist Colin in his work, but had never followed through on the promise. This had come as little surprise to me, but I think it had disappointed my husband. He had hoped to reform Sebastian, while, if I am honest, I preferred that his dubious nature be left intact.
I returned to the library, which was now empty. No doubt my mother had relocated her guests to her favorite drawing room. Thankful to find that my father had a copy of the book I sought, I took it from the shelf and returned to his study, where I pulled a sheet of paper from his desk, and copied from something I knew Sebastian would recognize at once: The Greek Anthology. Full of the texts of ancient Greek epigrams, it was the source of nearly every note he had ever sent me. Once finished, I found Jones and asked him to have someone take it to the offices of The Times in London without delay. I had written in Greek, so the message could not be relayed over the telephone. With any luck, my advertisement would appear tomorrow morning, and Sebastian would see it, assuming, of course, he was even in England. One never knew with him.
That handled as well as it could be, I went in search of the maharini, and found her bent over a piece of needlework in front of the fireplace in the jade sitting room.
“Is my mother not with you?” I asked.
“She is off consulting with the cook about tonight’s dinner.”
“Your work is exquisite,” I said.
“I have always enjoyed embroidery.” She tugged gently on a thread before securing her needle and placing the fabric next to her on the settee. “I suspect that you are not here to discuss needlepoint.”
“You are quite right,” I said. “I do apologize for the awkwardness of this entire situation. I have no further information about the theft at the moment, but I was hoping to better understand Sunita’s circumstances. I confess that when she reached out to me, I thought it would be to say that she was rejecting an arranged marriage—undoubtedly because I had done the same so many times when I was her age.”
“Sunita is not ready to be a wife,” the maharini said. “I was married at fifteen, and was fortunate that the maharaja is the man he is, for that is far too young. I want Sunita to have a different sort of life. It is unnatural for a girl her age to suddenly become so fixated on getting married, a
nd it tells me that she is too immature and too focused on her own needs to have a family of her own. I could understand it better if she thought she were in love, but so far as I can tell, she has no one in mind.”
“Do you and her father have any inkling as to whom you would like to see her marry?”
“Not specifically, no. Why do you ask?”
“I am merely trying to get a broader picture of her situation.”
“I would prefer she remain near me in India, but many of the daughters of other maharinis have gone to live in England. So long as she is happy, I would have no objections. Ranjit, of course, will have to come home eventually to rule when his father is gone, but Sunita has no such obligations.”
“What of Ranjit’s bride? Who will he marry?”
“We have had an understanding with a dear friend of his father’s since he was a small boy. The oldest daughter is a lovely girl, and has the right sort of temperament to succeed me as maharini.”
“Is it possible she wishes to have the Star of the East?” I asked.
“No, no,” she said. “Her family has their own jewels.”
“Are you fond of Ranjit’s friend Ned?” I asked.
“Ned has curbed many of Ranjit’s wilder tendencies. He is a good boy. I wish Ranjit would take his studies more seriously, but I do believe he will rise to the occasion when he becomes maharaja, even if he does squander the better part of his years at Oxford.” She smiled sweetly. “Tell me, Emily, what about you? It pains me to see the strife between you and your mother. Is there nothing that can be done to change this?”
* * *
“I had hoped we would be well on our way home by now,” Colin said, fastening studs to the stiff front of his evening shirt as we dressed for dinner. “Benton is coming for dinner, but I do not expect to learn anything beyond what he has already told me, which was not much.”
“I do not think he would have taken the diamond,” I said. “He knew about the curse, and anyone familiar with it would never have separated it from the bangle.”
“Emily, my love, curses are not real.”
Star of the East: A Lady Emily Christmas Story Page 4
