Diamonds of Death. Vivian Conroy
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Название: Diamonds of Death

Автор: Vivian Conroy

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия:

isbn: 9780008205171

isbn:

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      ‘You condone theft?’

      ‘No, but I can understand the appeal of the particular thing he steals. Special gems, stones with a story attached.’

      Jake caught her eye in the rear-view mirror. ‘Don’t you?’

      Alkmene exhaled. ‘Yes, I guess so. There was some story about Lord Winters and some special stones Father told me once. It is years ago and… I have no idea why he suddenly mentioned it to me. He never was in touch much with those relatives.’

      Jake glanced at her. ‘You said that Lady Winters was your mother’s half-sister?’

      ‘Yes.’ Alkmene realized there was no evading this for ever, so she decided to get it over with now. ‘My mother was the daughter of an earl. After the earl’s death her mother fell in love with an army captain. Her family had wanted a much better match for her, but she insisted she loved him. She wasn’t a sixteen-year-old any more that her parents could force into an alliance, so she did what she wanted and they married. They had three more children, one of whom was the woman who eventually married Lord Winters in India. My mother’s half-sister.’

      ‘In India?’ Jake asked. ‘Not here?’

      Alkmene shook her head. ‘As far as I understand it, the captain was engaged in India for most of his career. No active duty on the battlefield, but being an aide, doing correspondence. The more diplomatic end of things, so to speak. His children were all raised there and married there as well. I think Father mentioned in passing that Lord Winters was quite a good catch.’

      No doubt he had only emphasized it to goad her into bringing home a titled man as well. So far the closest she had come to being at ease with a man was with the Honourable Frederick Saltry, Freddie to his friends who were about as manifold as his debts.

      Father would hardly think him suitable considering his reputation, and beyond that Alkmene didn’t want to look or think. Being married would mean losing freedom, and one thing she craved was freedom.

      Just to take off like she had now and do whatever she wanted to do.

      Including pulling Jake into this scrape with her. She did feel better that he would be on the premises, even if he would not exactly be on her level.

      She grinned to herself. ‘I can already see you sitting around the kitchen table with the other servants, gossiping about me.’

      ‘Gossiping?’ Jake echoed.

      ‘Oh, yes, you have to complain about me, my eccentric ways… That will surely make the others feel sympathy for you. They will share their bit about their masters, providing you with exactly the kind of information you need.’

      ‘Your eccentric ways?’ Jake asked.

      Alkmene shrugged. ‘You can make something up. Be resourceful.’

      ‘That will be the only part I’ll enjoy,’ Jake groused.

      Alkmene stared ahead, folding her hands in her lap. ‘You know how staff know everything that goes on in a house. Who doesn’t like whom, what quarrels there were shortly before the master died. What ways he had, how he kept the stones. Who went to bed early that night or stayed up, scurrying about claiming to have a sleepless night. You know how servants are. They peek and listen and get into cabinets where they are not supposed to go. If caught out, they act like they are contrite about it, but in fact they are gloating and can’t wait to tell their fellows about it. I bet if you would just dump your pride and sit with them in the kitchen at night, you’d scoop up your worthwhile tidbits by the dozens…’

      ‘Enough,’ Jake said tightly. ‘You are laying it on too thick.’

      Alkmene bit her lip, hoping she had not really overdone it. She knew someone fiercely proud and independent like Jake would rather eat his hat than pose as a servant, but it was true that very valuable information could only be gleaned that way. The servants would never confide in her: a titled woman who had never shown her face at the estate before. They would gossip about her, all right, but they would never tell her a thing.

      Jake sighed. ‘I am only doing this because I have to, remember. For Mac’s sake.’

      ‘Of course. Good. I will call you Parker. I have always wanted a valet called Parker.’

      Jake rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t push me.’

      ‘Well, I do need a reason to have you around. I will have to claim my health is much weaker than they ever suspected it was. Of course my mother died pretty young of a weak heart, so I might easily convince them I am not very strong either. That I need you to carry things for me, fetch things for me, drive me around, make sure everything is just right for my needs.’

      Jake gritted his teeth audibly.

      Alkmene laughed out loud. ‘I am sure it will yield something great and you will be happy we did this.’

      Jake shook his head slowly. ‘I hope too that we will get the killer, I really do, but even if we do and I can clear a man whom I respect and value, I will never, ever, be happy about this.’

      They whooshed through the entrance gate, seeing the house up ahead bathing in the afternoon sunshine. Alkmene gasped at its austere beauty, the many touches of refined architecture in the garden. The fountain, the sundial. The dove house. She had to explore soon and see it all up close. If she hadn’t come here on such a sad occasion and with a serious mission in mind, she would have been genuinely excited to see this place at last and meet the family she had never known. Her cousins who had grown up in India and who could no doubt share many fascinating stories about life there.

      Jake parked the car right in front of the steps. Alkmene opened the door, but he stayed her with a hand on her arm. ‘Remember to get out of the car like you have trouble with it. You can’t dart about like a puppy while claiming to need your driver every step of the way.’

      Alkmene acknowledged that he was right and took her time getting out of the car. She put a hand on her back and used the other to shield her eyes as she glanced up at the house’s imposing facade. A lace curtain moved like someone was looking down.

      Family member?

      Curious servant?

      The front door opened, and a butler came down the steps with a solemn expression. ‘Excuse me, but the house is not open for visitors today. We have had a death in the family.’

      ‘I am aware of that,’ Alkmene said, hiding her surprise that the house had apparently been open to the public previously. Families often decided to do it to collect necessary funds for restoration and upkeep, but she had not realized her own family might be in such a position. As Lord Winters had apparently owned a fortune in diamonds, such a measure would seem unnecessary.

      The butler was expecting her to continue and she hastily said, ‘I am Lady Alkmene Callender, the late Lord Winters’ niece from London.’

      Niece only by a percentage, but she need not tell that to the butler, she presumed. ‘I have come all the way down here to pay my respects to the family upon Lord Winters’ death.’

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