Larcenous Lady Page 16

  Pronto listened earnestly. “Blue eyes,” he urged. “Have to be sapphires.”

  “Flowers are good, too. Cornflower or delphinium.”

  “Think I ought to jot this down,” Pronto decided, and pulled out a patent pen to write on the back of the menu. “Topic—che bella. Hair: raven’s wing; eyes: sapphire. What’s next? Lips.”

  “Rosebuds are the usual comparison. Or cherries.”

  Pronto scribbled away. “Or apples,” he added. “By jingo, we’ve left off her nose, Dick. There’s a hard one. Elvira has a generous nose, but shapely. Can’t use a cucumber or carrot.”

  “In my experience, noses defy comparison. A nose is a nose,” Belami decided. “But the ears provide excellent flirtation. You might just lean forward and breathe heavily into her ear as you compare it to a rosebud.”

  Pronto examined his list. “We’ve got rosebuds for the lips. How about a snail for the ears? The way it sort of curves in on itself...”

  Belami’s lips moved unsteadily. “Let’s make it a sea-shell,” he suggested. “And don’t forget the breathing. Now for the skin.”

  “I know that one. Alabaster. Elvira’s skin is hard as a rock. I mean the flesh under it is. She exercises. Been missing her mount here in Venice. I have been myself.”

  “The compliments should be accompanied by some tentative caressing as you go along,” Belami pointed out. “I mentioned stroking the hair. From there you let your hand glide slowly to the throat, then along the shoulders. From there it’s an easy slide to her waist. But don’t leap. You want a smooth, flowing performance, like a zephyr rippling a pond, and culminating in a kiss.”

  “Right, I’ve got it. Che bella. Hair, eyes, ears—blow in ‘em—lips, zephyr, pounce—but smoothly.”

  “It works for me.”

  “You got Deirdre back, did you?”

  “I was speaking more generally. What are you doing today, Pronto?”

  “Having the barber come for a haircut. Getting my jacket pressed. Hiring costumes for the contessa’s ball. Buying Elvira a wedding present. She’s spotted a little emerald brooch at Speccio’s jewelry shop. We was there yesterday morning with her mama, picking out a diamond necklace. Cerboni ain’t being reasonable about his set.”

  Belami came to rigid attention. “Have they bought the necklace already?”

  “No. We ain’t leaving for a few days after the wedding. I talked Elvira into leaving the mother and Lucy behind. Had the deuce of a time finding the guide, but a polizio put me on to him. We’re sliding off to Rome for a week, just the two of us. By then Elvira will decide which diamonds she wants. No hurry.”

  “Will they pay cash, as they did for the pearl?” Belami asked nonchalantly.

  “Mrs. Sutton’s arranging something with the bank.”

  Pronto finally got a piece of the beef into his mouth, and while he chewed, Belami pondered. If Mrs. Sutton was arranging payment through her bank, it didn’t look as though she meant to pay in counterfeit cash. And if they weren’t even buying it from Cerboni, then the original purchase of the pearl hadn’t been to establish their bona fides. He was still surprised at Elvira’s reluctance to use her considerable wiles on Pronto, too. His impression from Deirdre was that Elvira was a shade fast, but apparently it was just talk. Was it possible the ladies were innocent and he had imagined this whole plot?

  “You’re sure you want to go through with this wedding, Pronto? We could arrange some excuse if—”

  “Of course I’m sure. I love Elvira. It’s that seminary at Bath that did the mischief. That or her papa, the cleric. I’ll talk her around now that I’ve got my list. I’ll have her alone after the wedding if not before. Tomorrow night, Dick. I get edgy as a broody hen looking forward to it.”

  Pronto had to meet the ladies at eleven o’clock. Belami took his leave at five minutes to. The lesson in lovemaking had fired him with a desire to see Deirdre. She was in the garden sketching a statue of Apollo when he got back to the palazzo. In a simple blue gown and round bonnet to protect her face from the sun, she looked quaintly attractive. To Belami, she appeared irresistible. He pushed his way through the tangled bush and joined her.

  “I’ve just been talking to Pronto,” he said.

  Deirdre’s stiff face gave no indication that she was delighted to see him. “Did you manage to talk some sense into him?” she asked.

  “No, I’m more confused than ever,” he said, and told her their conversation, including Elvira’s shyness, but curtailing his tactics to seduce a timid maiden.

  “What a plumper!” Deirdre said angrily. “She’s an experienced flirt. She used to climb out a window at the seminary and meet some man, a dancing teacher. From what she said, I didn’t gather she was exactly shy. She conned him into an offer of marriage, only she didn’t go through with it when she learned he only made two hundred guineas a year.”

  “Then why is she being so standoffish with Pronto? She’s agreed to marry him. She must like him.”

  “She likes his money. There—I’m so angry I’ve spoiled my drawing,” she said, and set down her charcoal.

  “Now I don’t believe anything Pronto told me. He very nearly had me convinced I was mistaken. Whatever Elvira’s up to, I can’t make heads or tails of it. I hope to God she’s married to Claude and leaves Pronto standing at the altar. Only there isn’t any altar at the hotel. All the wedding plans are extremely shabby. I don’t think she intends to go through with the wedding at all. It’s dust in our eyes to fleece poor Pronto and convince us she’s not Claude’s wife.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Deirdre asked.

  “I’m going to join Réal at Mira. We’re breaking into Styger’s house to look for clues—anything that can tie him to the Suttons. If Styger returns while we’re there I’ll beat the truth out of him. It would help if you’d watch Carlotta and take a look around for the dies.”

  “I’m going shopping with her this afternoon to buy a wedding present for Pronto. What are you giving him?”

  “I forgot all about it,” Belami confessed.

  “I thought Elvira might like something artistic. A bulky gift would be a nuisance while traveling.”

  “I want to give Pronto something special. He’s the best friend I ever had—the best male friend, I mean,” he added, with a soft smile. “I’ve had the good fortune to know a lady who outshines all other acquaintances.”

  He reached for Deirdre’s hands, but she pulled away. “Fancy your being able to remember one lady above the hordes.”

  Belami willed down the urge to violence and reverted to business. “I want to get Pronto a personal gift. I’ll go to a jewelry store and have something engraved. It’s strange we should be so sad at his marriage, isn’t it? I never thought he’d beat us to the altar.”

  “He wouldn’t have to be a racehorse to accomplish that!”

  “Nor even a turtle. I often despaired that he’d ever find anyone, and now that he has, I feel as though I’m going to his funeral instead of his wedding.”

  Deirdre had expected more persistence from Belami and was annoyed with him. “I don’t know why you’re wasting time here. Why don’t you go to Mira right away? Once he’s involved with those horrid people he’ll end up their dupe, taking the blame for all their crimes. I’m going to the palazzo and search the place from top to bottom.”

  “What are we missing, Deirdre? Why did Carlotta invite the Suttons here yesterday? She didn’t do anything but give Elvira a tour of the palazzo, and the Suttons could have seen that at the masquerade party.”

  Belami looked toward the stone palazzo, his eyes narrowed against the sun. He paused a moment, then continued. “If she’s trying to sell them the dies, she could hardly carry them with her in a small evening reticule to the ball. They’d have to meet in some quiet corner of the palazzo. Elvira’s now familiar with the layout here. All Carlotta would have to say is ‘Meet me in my room,’ or ‘Meet me in the garden,’ and Elvira would know exactly where to go.”

/>   “That must be why she invited them.”

  “What they’ll use to buy the dies back is the money from selling the pearl. And either Claude or his father has that money. They may keep in touch by mail, but they won’t risk money in the post. One of them will have to bring it.”

  “Nick’s watching the hotel. He’ll know if the Suttons have a male visitor,” Deirdre pointed out,

  “He’ll know that, but he won’t know if Claude just registers under an assumed name and arranges the meeting quietly abovestairs. None of us has ever seen Claude. I wish to God I knew what he looks like.”

  “It would all make more sense if we had a young man and woman staying with Mrs. Sutton, instead of two girls. Then we’d know where everyone was.”

  “Claude’s probably out arranging more pranks. The pearl stunt could be pulled several times, using any more or less rare jewel. It wouldn’t even be reported to the police, as it bypasses the law. I’d best go now, so the gondola will be back in time for your shopping. Wish me luck.”

  “The very best luck,” she said.

  “I didn’t mean in words,” Belami countered, and lifted his hand to stroke her hair. His careful instructions to Pronto were forgotten. Deirdre looked enchanting in the dappled sunlight. He pulled her into his arms rather roughly, and she repulsed him with even greater vigor. The strength of her protests caused his hot blood to simmer, but his speech was of an arctic temperature, uttered with a disdainful sneer. “Am I still under a cloud because I paid Carlotta to interpret for me, or have I committed some new indiscretion?”

  “You’ve had plenty of time for new indiscretions since then. Naturally one assumes Lord Belami has taken advantage of every opportunity.”

  “Naturally! If you knew the opportunities I’ve turned down for you, Deirdre!”

  “Spare me the list!” she said loftily, and walked away.

  Belami watched as she strode angrily back to the palazzo, her hips swinging quite as delightfully as Carlotta’s. That touch of the temptress in Deirdre always surprised him.

  Deirdre had time for a quick search of the music room, where Carlotta had spent some time displaying the painted organ screen yesterday and Elvira had shown some interest in it. Was this where the assignation would take place tomorrow night? It was convenient to the ballroom, yet discreetly situated around a corner where privacy would be assured. She searched the room thoroughly, but if this were the spot, Carlotta had not yet hidden the dies there.

  Belami hopped into the gondola at once for the trip to Mira. When he was about to enter the Mestre Canal, he spotted Réal coming toward him in another boat. The boats drew alongside and Réal leaped like a goat across the water, very nearly upsetting both gondolas. Belami knew by the fierce face of his worker that something was wrong.

  “The bird, he is flied,” Réal announced. “When I get to Mira this morning, there is men coming out of the Styger house. I speak with Marie next door, and hear the house is for renting to a family from Austria. Mr. Vonheffner and his wife, fat, red of face, with the eyes bulging out of the faces. I make the inquiries for Styger. He is returning last night and giving back the keys. He at once runs away, very much excited.”

  “He wouldn’t be pleased to learn his dies were missing.”

  “C’est vrai, he is complaining of thievery,” Réal assured his master, with much Gallic flailing of arms. “He goes away from the neighborhood and no one has the senses to follow him. I wanted to stay last night. You tell me no, Styger isn’t coming back yet. You need me, to stand all night in front of the Léon Bianco, with no one coming in for me to follow.”

  “Sit down before you knock us both into the canal,” Belami said, and pushed Réal onto the seat. “I should have known when the pearl turned up yesterday that Styger had arranged his deal faster than he anticipated. Of course he darted straight back to Mira. But he didn’t go to the Léon Bianco or Nick would have seen him. He must be at some other hotel in Venice. They’ll all meet to talk over these new developments. We’ve got to get back to Venice, Réal.”

  Réal knew his duty. He stood up and snatched the pole from the gondolier to pole them back at a pace that left him gasping. He went directly to the Saint Mark landing. “I will be finding this Styger and following him,” he said calmly to Belami. “Where will I go to tell you?”

  “I’ll be back at the palazzo soon. I have to go shopping.”

  “Shopping!” Réal’s beady black eyes were full of wrath. “Very good. Very excellent. You will do the shopping for jackets while Italy burns. Me, I suggest it is a fiddle you should purchase, Signor Nero.”

  “Pronto don’t fiddle. I rather think a set of wine goblets in silver would be well used. We’re going to speak to Nick first, however.”

  They went to the Léon Bianco, where Nick reported Pronto was out with the ladies. No one had called on the Suttons.

  “Stay on guard,” Belami ordered.

  “Happy shoppings, melord,” Réal said, with an insolent stare that showed the master his opinion of this activity.

  Réal writhed to consider the possibility that Nick might succeed. Yet to search over a hundred islands with several hundred inns and hotels for two English tourists, possibly not traveling together, was obviously the heavier job. And to make it really interesting, these foolish Italians spoke neither French nor English.

  Belami selected his wedding gift with care. He chose six silver wine goblets, each embellished with clusters of grapes around the cup. What should he have engraved on them? “To the Pilgrims from Belami, with love. Venice, 1817.” A time and place that would live long in his memory as one of the saddest and most frustrating periods of his life.

  The jeweler agreed to begin the work immediately. He could deliver them to the palazzo that evening. Belami wanted to hand the gift to Pronto himself and make some speech. Then he returned to the palazzo, to await word from his helpers.

  Lunch was over, and Deirdre and Carlotta were preparing for their shopping trip. Charney decided to go with them, which left Belami alone with the old conte. It was a fairly tedious afternoon, but the conte’s rambling conversation left half of Dick’s mind free to plan. He also arranged to purchase the duchess’s “gift” of four hogsheads of wine at a highly inflated price. “But don’t tell her yet,” he said.

  “Indeed no. If I tell her she may have four, she’ll want six.”

  The presence of the servants made any serious search for the dies impossible. Carlotta’s woman never left the contessa’s room, which was a pretty good indication where they were. On three different occasions Belami made an excuse to pass the door. Always the woman was there by the window, sewing. The crafty look on her face was as good as an admission. At five o’clock the ladies returned from their shopping trip. Shortly after dinner the jeweler came with Belami’s gift. The goblets were engraved, and resting in a black leather presentation case lined with blue velvet.

  “Very impressive, Belami,” the duchess said. “Why you should want to impress Miss Sutton is beyond me. That knickknack Deirdre bought is plenty good enough.”

  “It’s a genuine antique statuette!” Deirdre pointed out. “I thought the nymph very pretty, didn’t you, Belami?”

  That careless “Belami” stung, but Dick was determined to be polite. He thought the statuette an inferior imitation and wondered how much Carlotta had made for taking Deirdre to that particular dealer. “Very nice. They’ll love it,” he said.

  “As Miss Sutton didn’t see fit to invite me to the wedding, I see no reason to send a gift,” the duchess said. “A very shabby affair, if you want my opinion.”

  “It’s a family wedding,” Deirdre explained. “Belami and I are witnesses. That’s the only reason we’re going.”

  “You’ll have an opportunity to offer your good wishes at the masquerade party,” Carlotta reminded the duchess.

  “They’ll need more than good wishes to make anything of this match. Pilgrim is insane, to marry a woman he knows nothing of. She might be anyone. A
lightskirt or a thief for all we know. Or even an actress,” she added, with a condemning glance at Carlotta.

  “At least she knows how to act like a lady. I like her enormously.” Carlotta smiled.

  With great forbearance, the duchess did not say “birds of a feather,” but her glare certainly implied it. At ten-thirty the duchess retired. The conte had left the party earlier. Carlotta sat below with Belami and Deirdre, making private conversation impossible. “Guy tells me you bought the duchessa some wine,” Carlotta mentioned. “You are generous.”

  Deirdre cast an embarrassed eye on her suitor, but she was flattered. Why had he done it but to put her aunt in a good mood when he approached her? Whatever their former relationship, she could see Dick and Carlotta were no longer friendly.

  Dick just glanced at Deirdre. It was to Carlotta that he spoke. “I can be as generous as anyone. I’m willing to pay for what I want. What I want very much at the moment is to prevent my friend from marrying Miss Sutton. Anything you could do to help me in that way would be appreciated.”

  “I don’t see how I can help,” Carlotta answered.

  “Any evidence of their counterfeiting, for instance, would be generously rewarded. Counterfeit coins, the dies they used...”

  Carlotta patted her curls and just looked back at him.

  “Very generously rewarded,” he added. She didn’t even ask how generously. “Say, a thousand guineas,” Dick tempted.

  Carlotta smiled then, a genuine smile. He thought he had gotten through to her, but her next move disillusioned him. She opened her beautiful lips and laughed. “A thousand guineas! You don’t value your friend very highly!”

  “The Jalberts won’t give you as much,” he warned.