Midnight Masquerade (12 page)

“The duchess has nothing to do with it.” Belami went on to outline his findings to Pronto, who maintained throughout the recital that his friend was insane, that Deirdre and Bidwell had never been seen together in London, that Bidwell liked dashers, by Jove, and so did Deirdre, and neither of them was a dasher, so there. No amount of persuasion budged him an iota from his conviction that Dick was crazy, which he euphemistically termed sick, when he remembered.

“Oh, another thing I forgot to tell you. Bessler’s going back to town with Bidwell. Came with the duchess, you know,” Pronto said.

“I am no longer interested in Bessler. This has become a different sort of problem, hardly a robbery at all, in fact. It is more like a retaliation of wrong for wrong. The diamond will be Deirdre’s one day; she has taken possession of it early. And as to Bidwell, even he isn’t your common garden-variety thief. He is Carswell’s heir—if, in fact, insurance is involved at all. I expect that was his rationalization to Deirdre at least.”

“Whose rationalization?” Pronto demanded sharply. “Seems to me you’re the one doing the rationalizing. It’s plain and simple thievery, my friend, and I hope you mean to unmask them. Only it wasn’t them at all, because they never had a thing to do with each other.”

“You can’t deny the diamond was stolen,” Dick mentioned.

“I ain’t trying to. Deirdre has proved Lenore is half the act. Oh, I know she was supposed to be with Chamfreys. Who’s to say he didn’t fall asleep? There’s that old Latin saying,
omnes vires
. . . something or other. Means men fall asleep after doing the featherbed jig. Lennie would wear a man out more than most. Yessir, Chamfreys was sawing logs while Bidwell scampered down that rope, and Lennie stood up above to help him.”

“And forgot to close the window after him? Not Lennie. And how do you account for Deirdre’s being on that roof?”

“Taking a breath of air,” Pronto thought. His next suggestion was equally foolish. “If you think it was her, why don’t you ask her?”

“Because it is ungentlemanly to call a lady a liar. Much better to simply prove it.”

“You ain’t having much luck proving anything so far. I begin to wonder just how you stumbled on the Everton girl’s hiding place last year. Your deducing has gone downhill sadly since then.”

“That was a particularly brilliant piece of deduction. It will be difficult to match it,” Belami agreed, “but I have every confidence in myself.”

He strolled out of the room with not a single new premise on which to perform his deductions, but with no doubts that he would solve this seemingly baffling case and add another bit of luster to his reputation. Something was bound to break, and if it didn’t, he had some ideas for fanning coals that had nothing to do with deductions.

Belami encountered his mother passing through the front hall as he left Snippe’s room. She was scuttling along like a little bird, her head darting forward at every step, her feet scarcely touching the floor. On her head she wore a cap, a very pretty lace-edged cap, but as she usually wore none, her son wondered why she had it on. He also disliked it. It reminded him that she was no longer young.

“Why are you rigged up like a quiz, Bertie?” he asked.

“Do I look perfectly wretched? I know I do, but I am going up to see Her Grace, and must appear respectable. She has sent for me, Dickie, in my own home! Very brazen of her, don’t you think? Oh dear, I hope she isn’t going to scold me. I don’t suppose you’ve found her old diamond, so I can give it back to her and have done with this visit.”

“It hasn’t turned up yet,” he admitted, “but I can save you this unpleasant chore at least. I’ll go to Charney.”

“She sent for me.”

“She will get me. And would you be so kind as to go to your room and remove that lid you are wearing, luv. It doesn’t become you. For dinner, I want you to don your most festive and outrageous gown, all the jewelry your body can hold, serve jeroboams of champagne.
Sparkle
, Bertie. We’re not in mourning. This is a party we have invited our friends to. It’s unfortunate the duchess lost her diamond, but it’s not our fault. All this sackcloth-and-ashes business is unnecessary.”

“We can’t celebrate, Dick. It would look too inconsiderate.”

“I haven’t seen Charney go a step out of her way to show consideration to you. You would not have spent the day in bed complaining if it were your emeralds that were lifted from her house.”

“That’s true,” she said with a sharp nod of her head. “She wouldn’t have offered to pay for them either, as you have done. You don’t think it was a bit precipitous of you, Dick? I mean, if you don’t find the diamond . . .”

“I’ll find it,” he said simply. “I have a plan.”

“I am happy to hear it,” she said, and heaved a sigh of relief. “I hope it doesn’t involve me.”

“It doesn’t. Why don’t you round up some guests and play cards till dinner?” he suggested, to cheer her up.

“I was playing with Uncle Cottrell and some other saints when she summoned me. So boring, not even any good gossip, but only prosing on about politics. You must tell me what politics is all about some day. Now I shall read my novel.”

“Fine, you do that,” he said.

She frowned as he left. Was that why he said he hadn’t stolen the diamond? Because he meant to pay Charney in cash?

Belami straightened his shoulders, put a politely indifferent smile on his face, and strode up to Her Grace’s chamber. The duchess sat up in bed, pillows piled around her like a sultan.

“Oh, it’s you, Belami. I sent for your mama,” she told him, lifting her chin to show she had taken umbrage.

“Unfortunately, Mama is indisposed.”

“Small wonder, with this miserable business on her hands,” Her Grace replied with relish.

“New Year’s is always a trifle trying, is it not? I expect she had more champagne than was good for her. Was there something you wanted, Duchess?”

“Yes, I wanted to talk to your mama. Why do you think I sent for her?”

“I shall be happy to relay any message for you.”

“Hmph. You can tell her for me this is a demmed lumpy mattress she has given me.”

“Would you like to have it exchanged? Another room, perhaps?”

“No, no, I just got settled in here.”

“Any other messages to add?” he asked with a satirical glint in his eyes. “Damp sheets, smoky flue, draughty windows . . .”

“Heh heh, you’re a caution, Belami. I like a lad with spirit. Sit down. Sit down, boy, and talk to me. I’m bored to finders with no company but my own. I believe I shall go down to dinner. That was really what I wished to tell your mama.”

“She will be delighted to hear it,” he said with a slight inclination of his head.

“Yes, since the betrothal is on, it is high time we make the announcement formally. We’ll do it at dinner this evening, which is why I must be there. Your Uncle Cottrell will do the pretty. Tell him so.”

He leveled a black stare at her. “It will be best to wait till the storm is over and it can be announced simultaneously in the London papers,” he parried.

“That was never the plan. Planning to shear off on us?” she asked with a narrow-eyed glare in his direction.

“One never knows how an incident such as the loss of your diamond will affect a relationship.”

“It hasn’t affected us. Deirdre and I. Nothing has been said about calling off. Speak to Cottrell. Have it announced,” she ordered.

He gave a barely perceptible nod of his head in grim acquiescence to her command. He did not wish to annoy her at this time, as he had some fairly impertinent questions to put to her. He began with vague queries as to where she usually kept the diamond. Insurance was not involved in the theory currently favored that Deirdre was involved. And as this was so, why had the theft been done so publicly and dangerously?

“When we picked it up at the bank, we drove directly to my home—Herr Bessler and myself, I refer to. We had a glass of sherry, and he left. Here is where it has rested, from the minute I got it from the vault.” She slapped her bony breast. “I had it on under my gown during the trip here and all the time I was here. What has that to do with anything? We know when and where it was stolen.”

“I like a clear picture of all that led up to it. Did Bidwell happen to call on you during the latter part of December?”

“Certainly not! I don’t encourage such seven-day beaux as that to dangle after Deirdre. Especially when she was already engaged.”

He saw that it would have been impossible to steal the diamond without assaulting the duchess, as she wore the thing on her. That could account for doing it in public perhaps. “It is dangerous traveling with jewels. Did you never consider having paste replicas made, as so many do?”

“Duchesses do not wear paste,” she decreed grandly. Then she relented, slapped her knee, and cackled like a hen. “By God, I wish I had! What clever thoughts have been going through my mind as I lie here alone. If I had a copy, and it had been stolen before the claim ran out, I could have claimed my reward and still have kept my jewel. Not that I could have worn it in public again. No, there was no copy. Never mind thinking what you are thinking, my lad. Duchesses don’t
lie
either.”

“They
do
read minds, do they?” he asked with a flashing smile to which even an aging duchess was not entirely immune.

“By Jove, I can’t quite read yours. Why are you asking these questions? What are you after, eh?”

He hardly knew, but he plodded on, picking up such details as had occurred to him during the day. “Are Bidwell and Bessler on terms?” he asked. If Bidwell hadn’t called in person, then he must have had a go-between.

“Nodding acquaintances, no more, until they turned up here together. I believe they frequent the same club. Not one of the grander ones, of course. Do you think that rattle of a Bidwell is involved?”

“I’m still open-minded on the matter. If you have no further messages for my mother, I shall leave you now, Your Grace.”

“Send someone up to amuse me.”

“Herr Bessler?”

“I’m bored with him too. Send Cottrell. I’ll give him a quizzing about politics. His monologues are better than Bessler’s for closing my eyes. He could put Macbeth to sleep.”

“I believe he is at cards.”

“Bother! Send someone. Send Pronto Pilgrim.” Belami felt that was a meeting he would not mind auditing, but as he had more pressing matters to attend to, he found Pronto and sent him up.

“Me? What does she want to see me for?”

“She’s lonesome,” Dick told him.

“If she wasn’t such a nag she wouldn’t be lonesome. Nobody goes near her if they can help it. Dashed harpy. I’ll take cards. That’ll keep her quiet.”

Chapter 9

There was a music room at Beaulac in the west wing. As Bertie did not play any instrument, nor much like to listen to music, it was not a well-used chamber, but when Belami reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard the ghostly, distant sound of a piano badly out of tune. Curious, he walked along the corridor to see who was brave enough to tackle it. Lady Lenore, he thought, judging from the sprightly waltz, which grew louder as he approached the door. He was greatly surprised to see Deirdre Gower at the keyboard, her hands flying over the ivories and her whole body swaying in time to the music. He had never credited her with much sense of rhythm. Dancing with her on the few occasions when he had done so was much like dancing with an articulated doll. The limbs moved, but jerkily. He should have suspected from her undulating walk that she had rhythm.

She finished the tune and sat still, her head drooping forward. A deep sigh escaped her, followed by a word that sounded like “damn.”

Belami lightly clapped his hands and walked forward. “Bravo, Deirdre. One of Méhul’s waltzes, wasn’t it?”

Her head whipped around to stare at him. “Your piano is out of tune,” she said, and immediately got up from the bench.

“You seem a little off-key yourself. Till you join my family, we have no one who plays.”

“I’m not joining your family,” she said firmly.

“I wish you would tell your aunt so. She has just ordered me to make the announcement this evening.”

“No! You mustn’t, Belami,” she pleaded.

“It will come as a shock to a few people,” he said, looking to see what reaction this got.

“What do you mean?”

“I was thinking of Bidwell,” he told her.

“Bidwell? What has it to do with him?” she asked, her face a mask of incomprehension. It was enough to make him doubt his convictions in that regard. Was it possible he was wrong about Bidwell?

He gave his enigmatic Mona Lisa smile, designed to confuse his victims.

“I’m not marrying you,” she said, and made to brush past him. Quick as a lizard’s blink, his hand flew out and grabbed her arm. She was jerked to a stop, and looked up at him. There was hardly six inches between them. His eyes held hers, then he slid his gaze down to her lips. She had the strongest sensation he was going to kiss her. Something in her chest began growing and expanded till she felt suffocated. Her breaths came in quick, light sounds.

“You had best tell your aunt so,” he said, and with a little laugh he released her arm.

“Don’t worry, I will,” she shot back, and marched from the room. Even when she was angry her hips swayed. He stood watching her retreat, with an appreciative smile on his face.

Her Grace was playing piquet with Pronto when Deirdre burst in on them. “I must speak to you at once, Auntie,” Deirdre said.

“Be happy to leave,” Pronto offered with the greatest alacrity. Demmed duchess was cheating. She’d dealt herself a pair of face cards from the bottom of the deck, or her nightgown sleeve, or under her coverlet. Wasn’t even a good cheat. The two cards she’d discarded peeped up from under the blankets. She’d won a golden boy from him too, by Jove. Dick had to hear about this. A woman who’d cheat at cards would cheat at diamonds too.

“Very well. Run along, Pronto,” the duchess said.

“I don’t want you to announce the betrothal this evening,” Deirdre said as soon as they were alone.

“I wish we had announced it in London the day he offered. He wished to tell his mama first in person, he said. It was a put-off, Widgeon. If you cannot get him to the altar now, when he is in such deep disgrace with us over my diamond, you’ll never accomplish it. Strike while the iron is hot, my girl. It’ll cool down soon enough,” the duchess advised her.