Aunt Sophie's Diamonds Read online

  “No, I have neither the need of them nor the right to them. It was understood Sophie would provide for Loo, and she has not done it. Another inhabitant of Fair-speech, you see. It was wrong of Aunt Sophie to make her fair speeches, then serve Loo a cruel blow like this. I have a good home with my grandparents and had never any thought of inheriting them. Indeed, I didn’t expect my emerald.” She looked at her ring in a loving way as she spoke.

  “Do you like jewelry?” he asked.

  “I have a heathen weakness for pretty things,” she confessed readily. “But I am not allowed to indulge it. Grandmama says a woman’s finest adornment is virtue. She won’t want me to wear this ring. I might as well give it to mama, I suppose.” She cast a wistful glance at her ring as she said this and rubbed it lovingly.

  “Don’t be absurd!” Hillary said in a harsh voice, to hide the emotion her pathetic speech had raised.

  Loo came in with the reticule, and Miss Milmont was aided to the door with a supporter on either side.

  “It is foolishness for you to be going home,” Hillary scolded as they went along to the Blue Saloon, but knowing she did not wish to remain, he said nothing when the others came out, or Marcia would make her stay whether she wanted it or no.

  A few moments were spent in Loo handing her pendant back to Thoreau, in the basket of food being given to Jonathon to carry, and in adieux being exchanged between host and guests. With a final volley of compliments from Marcia, they were off.

  Mrs. Milmont was loud in her praise of the evening all the way home, with only a few adjurations to her daughter for being so clumsy as to slip and bang her head. As Miss Bliss discovered as soon as they were inside the door that Mrs. Milmont had no thought of helping her daughter get to bed, she went along with Claudia to her room and got her into her nightdress.

  “Have you got your emerald in a safe place?” she asked before leaving.

  “Under my pillow.”

  “It would be better under your mattress,” she advised. “That’s where I keep my sapphire while I sleep. Has it occurred to you that whoever hit you might have been after it?”

  “Yes, that has occurred to me,” Claudia answered.

  Nothing more specific than that was said, but there was a fair understanding between them that the hopeful thief wore a scarlet tunic.

  Gabriel and Hillary sat alone in the Blue Saloon having a single glass of wine before retiring. “What do you make of this attack, uncle?” Gab asked. “I think Miss Milmont must be a trifle hysterical, don’t you?”

  “She is overwrought certainly, and no wonder.”

  “What I meant was, she must have slipped and imagined she was attacked, don’t you think? Who would attack her in this house? You? Me? The servants? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “There were others in the house. She didn’t imagine it. There was a welt on her temple.”

  “You mean Jonathon, I suppose, but why should he risk attacking her here, when it had to be a very rushed job? He might steal her ring any night while she sleeps, without so much risk of getting caught. Or have Tuggins do it for him.”

  “That has been puzzling me considerably. He must have done the whole in a flash, and how did he know she was in the library when she said she was going upstairs?”

  “Far as that goes, what the deuce was she doing in the library? I find her an unaccountable woman, but I expect it had something to do with digging up Aunt Sophie if the truth were known.” A youthful smile parted Gabriel’s lips, and he was soon laughing merrily.

  “What’s eating you, cawker?”

  “I was just thinking what you said about Miss Milmont. Said she’d be a fine maiden aunt in ten years, or some such thing, and just the one to mind my and Loo’s brats. I tremble to leave Loo alone with her, let alone a bunch of kids.”

  “I said nothing of the sort!”

  “Yes, you did. You don’t think they’ll tackle the grave tonight, do you?”

  “Poor Miss Milmont could scarcely walk. I can’t imagine why she insisted on going home. No, they’ll not go to the graveyard tonight, and much good it would do them if they did.”

  They discussed the matter for some moments, then Gabriel went to bed and Hillary spoke to his butler, who informed him that no order had been given for the lights in the study corridor to be extinguished. The attack was no secret to the servants by that time, and the butler added with a meaningful look that the captain had been seen in that area, but sometime before the attack, and he was not making any accusation, mind, but just telling what was seen.

  “That confirms it then,” Sir Hillary said, and went to his bedroom. He removed the two necklaces from his pocket—the sapphire pendant and the diamonds—and put them back in the case. He then sat down, lit a cheroot, and sat smoking it in silence for fifteen minutes, a frown of deep concentration on his face. Arising, he went back to the replica case and examined it carefully, first the glass box, then each piece of jewelry individually. “So that’s it!” he said at length. “The old devil, making a May game of us all. I could happily kill you, dear Aunt Sophronia, if you weren’t already dead.”

  Of course, he only imagined that echoing laugh that sounded from the corner of the room. He locked the case, put it under his bed, and went to the dresser.

  From the bottom drawer he extracted a black leather case, opened the lid, and lifted a silver-barreled dueling pistol from it. Carefully he charged it, and put it under his pillow, before he undressed, locked his door, and went to bed.

  Chapter Ten

  It was raining the next day. Claudia awoke with a nagging headache, and when she touched her temple, she remembered the preceding evening. She had no idea what time it was. The sun, her only time piece, not being visible, she had to guess, and from her lack of fatigue, she guessed it to be time to get up. Her regular hour of rising was a puritanical seven o’clock, and she knew it to be well past that, but in the holidays she was allowed to sleep in as late as she liked. Mama seldom rose before noon.

  At mama’s house, the mornings were the best part of the day. She had a lavish breakfast with a servant to tend her, then sat lolling on a heathen velvet settee with a whole pile of satin pillows, looking at fashion magazines, and eating as many bonbons as she liked, for mama had always a box of them on the table. None of these luxuries were available at Swallowcourt, of course, still there was a hamper of treats from Chanely to be indulged in, and she arose and dressed hastily, forgetting her headache once she was out of bed.

  Downstairs she discovered it was nine-thirty, and already Luane sat at the table, eating cream buns and drinking coffee.

  “How are you feeling this morning, cousin?” Loo asked, and looked at her bruise. “Pity we have no plaster for that.”

  “I feel all right.”

  “Isn’t it heavenly having such a breakfast? Better than Christmas. When I’m rich I’ll have them every morning—in bed,” she said, passing the plate along. Claudia took off two and poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “Loo, we must make plans,” Claudia began at once, fearing their privacy might be interrupted. “This rain will make our job miserable.”

  Luane sat chewing her cream bun, her little face alive with interest, her dark eyes shining. “And not only the rain,” she added. “We were very foolish to let Sir Hillary know what we meant to do. You may be sure he’ll be watching the graveyard every night to stop us. He’s like a dog with a bone when he gets an idea, and he thinks it’s wrong of us to steal the diamonds. I warned you what a prude he is.”

  “It is wrong to steal in the general way, but I cannot consider this stealing, when our aunt only means to leave the diamonds in the ground to turn to dust.”

  “Goodness, how long will it take?” Luane asked, worried.

  “Ages and ages, but they are no good to anyone buried. Of course, if she really means them for someone else at the end of the year, I suppose it is stealing to take them. But we could always give them back.”

  “She meant nothing of
the sort,” Luane assured her, licking a finger on which some whipped cream had become lodged. “I considered that when Sir Hillary said it, for he is generally right, you know. One of those horrid people who always know what is best, but this time he is mistaken. It just reminds me of a plum velvet gown Aunt Sophie had, and she was going to throw it out. I asked her for it, to have it made over for myself, but she was angry because my little spaniel wet on her carpet, so she had Rankin throw it into the grate right in front of my eyes. She was spiteful, cousin—you have no idea. This time she was angry that I didn’t marry Gabriel, so she burnt the diamonds—buried them, I mean, and you can be sure she never meant for anyone to have them.”

  “She sounds truly wicked!” Claudia gasped, much impressed with this tale.

  “Oh, that’s nothing!” Loo continued, sipping her coffee between words. “Another time she bet Sir Hillary her Persian chess set he couldn’t beat her at chess, for she thought she was quite good, though she cheated when no one was looking. Well, I was sitting right there in the room the whole time, and it was very boring, too, since she always took forever to move her pieces; and when he had her in check, she lifted her knee and sent all the pieces flying about the bed, pretending it was an accident, and then pretended she had a move all figured out to save herself from checkmate. That was the day she promised Sir Hillary her set when she died, because he said the devil would get her for it. And she didn’t give it to him either, the sneak.”

  “But Miss Bliss means to give it to him. She says that was the intention.”

  “Sophie promised it to him, and she didn’t give it to him, and she promised me the diamonds, and she didn’t give them to me, but I mean to get them, only I don’t see how we shall ever do it.”

  “And I have to leave in ten days,” Claudia worried.

  The butler came to the door and announced Sir Hillary and Gabriel, who came in brushing water from their faces.

  “You are just in time for breakfast,” Luane said. Sir Hillary looked and smiled to see the girls so soon into their hamper of food. It seemed they actually were starved here at Swallowcourt.

  After greetings were exchanged, the gentlemen were seated and given a turgid cup of coffee, from which even three spoonfuls of sugar did not take the bitter edge. “How is your head this morning?” Sir Hillary asked Claudia. “You should put something on it.”

  “No plaster,” Loo said.

  “It’s tender,” Claudia answered, not wishing to belittle the nature of the wound she had sustained under his roof. There being no plasters in the house, she pulled a curl down over it.

  “Are you come to discuss my diamonds?” Loo asked.

  “Let us call them by their proper name—the Beresford Diamonds,” Sir Hillary corrected her. “No, I am come to see how Miss Milmont goes on but, of course, there is no setting a toe in this house without discussing the diamonds. I hope you two have come to reason on the subject and decided they must be left where they are.”

  “To turn to dust in the ground!” Loo charged. “No, indeed, we have not decided that.”

  “We really should see about sending this girl to school. She is ignorant as a swan,” Hillary said to Gabriel, who smiled at his sweetheart to show he disagreed with this comparison.

  “Maybe Sir Hillary is right,” Claudia said, with a narrowing of her eyes at her cousin.

  “Cousin! You cannot mean you are going to desert me too,” Loo squealed.

  Claudia continued to narrow her eyes and dart little sidewise looks at Thoreau, intending to convey to Miss Beresford that their plans had best remain secret from this obstruction in their path. “We do not wish to set Sir Hillary on edge, and have him haunting the graveyard every night to stop us,” she said in a voice laden with significance. “It will be better for us to forget the plan, since he has taken it in such aversion.

  “Oh. Oh, yes, I see,” Luane answered, smiling triumphantly, and fooling neither gentleman that she had the least intention of abandoning her quest for the gems.

  “That sets my mind at rest considerably,” Hillary announced in a wooden voice.

  “It’s too bad it’s such an awful day,” Luane said to Gabriel, looking out the dusty windows to the rain drizzling down outside. Then she remembered she was angry with him, and turned aside to take another cream bun, passing the plate around the table till it stopped at Miss Milmont.

  “I hope tomorrow will be better,” Thoreau said. “I plan to go on a little trip.”

  “Are you taking Gabriel back to Cambridge?” Miss Beresford asked, sounding as though it were a matter of the utmost indifference to herself.

  “No, not immediately. We go in quite the other direction, to London.”

  “What for?” Loo asked, with all the familiarity of an old friend.

  “Business. Your business as it happens, brat. It has to do with my guardianship of you.”

  “Are you looking for someone to take care of me?” she asked eagerly. “I was hoping you would give me a Season, but ought we not to wait till next year, because of being in mourning?”

  “It has nothing to do with presenting you to society, this year or next.”

  “If you are looking for a chaperone, you needn’t bother. Claudia is the one I want.”

  “Miss Milmont?” Thoreau asked in wide-eyed disbelief. “It is not the custom for one young unmarried lady to set up as chaperone to another, delightful though the idea sounds.”

  “Don’t be such a sapskull, Loo,” Gabriel exclaimed.

  “Claudia is not young. She is old, and it is only because her mother wants to go on being young forever that she is dressed up in such youthful outfits, isn’t it, Cousin?”

  Claudia’s lips quivered, and she swallowed a mouthful of cream. “That—that is not exactly what I said,” she disagreed in a strange voice, while her cheeks crimsoned alarmingly.

  “It is so, and you said you would love to be my chaperone, don’t you remember? Sir Hillary will introduce us to the pink of the ton, and we will both marry great titled gentlemen. If it is only that you haven’t yet put on your caps, why there is nothing to stop you from doing so. Sir Hillary can buy you some in London.”

  “And a gray wig to complete the effect,” Sir Hillary added.

  “We don’t want her to look too old or no one will have her, even a widower. Claudia has more or less decided on a widower with a family, so that she won’t have to bother having any children.”

  “Indeed!” Sir Hillary said, staring at the pair of them. “That sounds a fine practical notion.”

  “Yes,” Loo went on calmly. “Since we can’t lay eggs like the birds, you know, and have the whole litter over with at once, it saves being confined every year.”

  “Shut up, Loo!” Gabriel shouted, with a fearful glance at Thoreau, who usually objected to such unseemly talk from Miss Beresford. But Hillary was sitting, sipping on the dreadful coffee with an impassive face, looking at Miss Milmont rather than Luane.

  “Mind your manners, cawker,” he said, without even glancing at Gabriel. “What else have you and Miss Milmont decided?” he urged Loo on, in an easy, agreeable manner.

  “You must know it is all a farradiddle,” Miss Milmont explained, still pink around the ears, the last of her blush to dissipate.

  “Another inhabitant of Fair-Speech?” he asked. “Lady Turn-about, in fact.”

  “You know it is impossible! I would never be allowed to be Loo’s guardian. I am much too young.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty- . . . Never mind. I am too young for that, and have no experience along such lines.”

  “Ah, well, twenty is too young. I hoped when Loo put your age as ‘old’ you were at least a quarter of a century.”

  “Surely twenty-five is still too young?” Claudia asked, with a newly awakening interest. By the time the year of mourning was up, she would be twenty-five, and how she would love to be Loo’s chaperone!

  “It is rather young for a single lady,” Hillary agreed. �
��But in any case you are only twenty, and I cannot believe Loo would wish to delay her debut five years. Or is it a widower with his family already grown you have in your eye too, brat?”

  “Oh, no, I am young enough to have my own brood. But aren’t you older than twenty, Cousin?”

  “A little older,” the embarrassed girl confessed.

  “Don’t be impertinent,” Hillary cautioned Luane.

  “Well, you asked her how old she is.”

  “And did not question her reply. I doubt very much Mrs. Milmont would give her consent in any case. There is just a certain something about a daughter acting the chaperone that takes the bloom off her mama. And we have already spoken to Miss Bliss about the position. I have some hopes, however, that Miss Milmont may be allowed to play propriety for one day. I want to take you to London with me, Loo, and am hopeful Mrs. Milmont will allow her daughter to come along. Gabriel comes too. We would have to leave very early in the morning to get there and back in one day and still have time for a little sightseeing. The trip takes three hours, more or less. If we can leave at eight, we will be there by eleven, and if we leave London at four, we can be back here by seven—just getting dark. Will you agree, Miss Milmont, if your mother gives her consent?”

  “I would love it of all things,” Claudia answered, glowing radiantly. “But I doubt mama . . .”

  “Leave mama to me,” Sir Hillary told her, allowing a small smile to lighten his face.

  “Why am I to go with you?” Loo asked.

  “Don’t ask embarrassing questions,” Hillary chided her. “How else can I make an excuse to take your cousin along?”

  “You are a complete hand, Sir Hillary,” Loo laughed. “As though you want to take Cousin Claudia.”

  “I trust your good nature will overlook that solecism,” Sir Hillary said to Claudia. “The girl is totally lacking in graces.”

  “She has an awkward habit of blurting out the truth,” Miss Milmont agreed, laughing also, but too happy at the anticipation of the trip to take offense at anything.