The Curse Of The Diogenes Club (35 page)

She was at peace with her
decision.

She was at peace when she
died.”

No one dared look at Mycroft
and no one dared speak. When a Victoria sponge was wheeled in with
the morning tea trolley everyone gave thanks for the
distraction.

Happy Birthday was sung three
times.

Major Nash, who had been the
only man not to give a birthday present to the Countess, raced away
and returned a few moments later with a small but lovely rosewood
sewing box.

“Open it,” he urged, watching
keenly as she lifted back the lid.

Her obvious delight at the
contents wiped the smirk off Moriarty’s face.

“A Remington Derringer!” she
cried with delight, recognising the double-barrelled muff pistol
that had sat in Mycroft’s bedside drawer.

They sang Happy Birthday once
more and when Mycroft called for a bottle of French champagne, the
Countess knew all was forgiven, and that unlike Diogenes she would
not need a lamp to help her find an
honest man
.

She had five of them in her
life, and though they might occasionally bite, they did it because
– dare she say it – they loved her in their own inimitable way.