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Authors: Clarissa Ross

Tags: #romance, #classic

Vintage Love (83 page)

BOOK: Vintage Love
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“In any event we have an idea that the fellow only let her know so much. He was cunning enough. It may be that she really doesn’t know anything beyond what she’s told us.”

Della realized this was all too likely to be true. “You may be right,” she said.

The inspector left her and she rested. When she awoke the nurse brought her some broth and she felt a good deal better though her wrists and ankles were still hurting.

Then Sir Roger arrived with her Aunt Isobel. The old woman came to her and embraced her, tears streaming down her withered cheeks.

“I thought I had lost you!” her aunt lamented.

“It was a close thing,” she said with a rueful smile.

Sir Roger glanced about the tiny, white-walled room and inquired, “Are they giving you good care?”

“I cannot complain at all,” she told him.

Aunt Isobel now became indignant. “None of this would have happened if that wretched girl hadn’t lost her head and let that villain get control of her. I hope she serves a jail term for what she did.”

“I can see no benefit in that,” Della said. “Discharge her without references but do not prosecute.”

“Not prosecute?” Her aunt sounded surprised.

Sir Roger nodded. “I’m inclined to agree with Della. It could be a mistake to make charges against the girl and send her to prison. Better to give her a chance to rehabilitate herself.”

“But think how Della has suffered because of her?” Aunt Isobel said.

“Sir Roger is right,” Della said. “There will be no prosecution of the girl and let that be the end of it.”

“And that dreadful Italian man is still at large. You might have gone to Italy if this hadn’t happened. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise!” her aunt went on.

“Extremely well disguised,” she said wanly. “But it will make no difference. I intend to go to Rome just as I planned.”

“You can’t!” Aunt Isobel protested.

Sir Roger looked down at her earnestly. “After all this do you think it wise?”

“Do I have any choice?” she asked. “I must find out about my sister.”

Aunt Isobel was upset. “Surely you cannot deny this Italian must have something to do with the other business of your sister being found!”

“It may be nothing but a coincidence,” Della said.

“Or it could be much more,” Sir Roger Drexel shook his head. “I tell you, I do not like it. Perhaps old Prince Sanzio has been mixed up in some sort of theft. And these others believe the loot was sent to you in London.”

Della said, “There may have been a theft but I’m sure Prince Sanzio had nothing to do with it. Though he may be able to explain the mystery when I meet him.”

“We shall be killed if we go,” Aunt Isobel said dismally.

“You don’t have to accompany me,” Della said.

The old woman gave her an angry glance. “You know I won’t let you go alone!”

“There is plenty of time to discuss that,” Sir Roger said placatingly. “The main thing now is that Della recover. And our remaining here arguing with her is not likely to help.”

Aunt Isobel calmed a little but said, “I’m only trying to take care of her.”

“I’m sure you are,” Sir Roger said. “And it will all work out. Just now we should leave and allow her to get more rest.”

Della kissed them both and they went on their way. She was grateful for the quiet which followed. She had gone through a great deal and was not yet fully recovered. As she lay there she thought about it all and it seemed to her that whoever had stolen the jeweled Madonna in Rome must have learned about her from old Prince Sanzio. They might well have sent the Madonna to her in London, expecting to pick it up on some pretense.

But somewhere along the line the plot had gone wrong. Whoever had been sent with stolen treasure had either vanished with it to keep it for themselves, or the whole thing had been a hoax on someone’s part: the Madonna had not been shipped out of Italy at all! She was sure she would get to the bottom of it when she reached Rome.

Her sleep that night was tormented by frightening dreams in which she was pursued by the man in the cape. His lean, cruel face was etched on her memory. She would not feel safe in London as long as he remained at large. And it worried her that he might still pursue her to Italy.

In this frame of mind her dreams were not surprising. Several times in the night she woke screaming. Her cries always brought a nurse running and each time she was given more sedative. All it did for her was make her sleep soundly for a short time and then the nightmares returned and she found herself trying to escape from the cruel attacker.

In the morning she felt better. Her doctor came by and pronounced himself satisfied with her condition. And later in the morning the nervous Inspector Hogan returned. He had little additional news, only more questions to ask her.

He stood by her bedside apologetically. “I have an idea that rogue has left London. He may even have skipped out of the country.”

“You’ve not been able to trace him?”

“No,” the inspector said. “We found the company who rented him the boat, but it was a cash deal and they could only offer the same description of him that you had already given us.”

“So you gained nothing?”

“Nothing beyond the fact he appeared to be well supplied with money.”

“I had dreadful nightmares of his chasing me last night,” she told him.

“I’m sorry, miss. I only hope this was all some sort of strange mix-up and you’ll not be bothered by this criminal or any of his cohorts again,” the inspector said.

“I hope not,” Della replied. But she knew it was all too likely that more would follow. Without knowing anything about it, she had somehow become involved in the theft of a treasure. “Have you heard anything about a jeweled Madonna?” she asked.

“No.”

“No reports of a piece like it being stolen from some museum?”

“Not as yet, miss,” the inspector said. “Though we no doubt will get notice if there has been such a robbery.”

“The museum might not even be aware of their loss,” she surmised.

“True, miss,” he agreed. “In some cases these fellows have been clever enough to substitute fake pieces for the ones stolen. In which case a long while elapses before such a loss is known.”

“He kept asking about a jeweled Madonna. Demanding that I tell him where it was hidden. Perhaps you might make some inquiries as to whether there are any well-known art items of that sort and where they might be located. Then you could pursue it further to see if one was missing.”

Inspector Hogan seemed impressed. “A very good idea, Miss Standish. I shall at once launch an investigation along those lines.”

“Possibly it may lead you to the theft and the criminals involved.”

“I sincerely hope so, miss,” the inspector said.

After he left she thought about it some more and was convinced she was on the right track. The jeweled Madonna had quite likely been filched from some museum, probably in Italy, though not necessarily. Whoever was involved had heard about her, likely through Prince Sanzio, and had decided to use her. An agent had been dispatched to bring a package to her for safekeeping. But the agent had never arrived! What had happened to him? And who had sent him?

She was still debating this when something she’d been wishing for happened. During his noonday break Henry Clarkson came to visit her. The serious young lawyer was the picture of sympathy as he came into the room.

Advancing to her bedside, he said, “Della, I trust you will forgive this visit.”

“I do,” she said.

“I’m glad to know you’re recovering and I want to offer my sympathy for all you’ve gone through.”

“That is good of you,” she said, her eyes fixed on him.

“It was a terrible ordeal,” he said.

She nodded. “But at least I learned something from it.”

“You did?”

“Yes,” she said, reaching out a hand to him. “I learned what a good friend you are and how unimportant the quarrel between us was.”

The handsome young man’s face brightened. “You really mean that, Della?”

“I’m offering you my hand as a token of our renewed friendship,” she said sincerely.

He took her hand in his. “Della!” he said with some emotion. And he bent and kissed her.

She returned his kiss and then studied him with a sad smile. “It is too bad I had to go through such suffering to find out how wrong I’d been!”

“It doesn’t matter now!” he said, happy with the situation as it was.

“I was wrong not to believe you!”

“My story did seem thin, but I promise you I told you the truth. She was merely my sister’s friend. I had not been cheating on you!”

“I believe that now.”

“I thought I had lost you to Davy Miller!”

“Not likely,” she said. “Davy and all the others were just substitutes for you. I felt I had lost you and I was unhappy from that moment.”

Henry squeezed her hand. “No need to concern yourself about that.”

“Had it not been for your quick thinking last night that maid would never have confessed,” she said. “I heard about it from the inspector.”

The young lawyer looked embarrassed. “That was merely good luck. I felt someone on the inside had to be involved. I kept hammering at them and finally this young maid broke into tears and began to talk.”

“The police might not have managed it as well.”

“I have had training in court questioning.”

“And you used it to advantage,” she said. “My aunt and Sir Roger have been by to see me. And as you might expect, they both seem to think I should abandon going to Italy.”

He frowned. “They’re likely right. If your sister has been found why not have her come here? It seems likely that this attack on you stems from the business. Within a short while of getting the news you are abducted and nearly murdered by an Italian!”

Della sat up in bed and said in a confidential tone, “I do think there is some link between the two circumstances, but I don’t wish to admit it to my aunt or Sir Roger.”

“They are intelligent people,” Henry protested. “They probably have come to the same conclusion on their own.”

“They have and they are going to be difficult,” she agreed. “But I must go to Rome as I planned. The fact that some Italian criminals tried to make use of me does not mean that Prince Sanzio or my sister is involved. Someone might have heard about me through them and used the information wrongly without their being aware of it.”

“That is possible,” the young man admitted.

“I think it is true,” she said. “And that is why I must not give up going to meet my sister. Happily, I will have you to escort me.”

Henry looked wryly amused. “I never thought you’d come around to it.”

“You see what strange twists fate takes!”

“I’ll be glad to accompany you if Sir Roger does not make it impossible,” he said.

She stared at him. “How could he do that?”

“By refusing to let any of us go to Rome,” the young lawyer said. “I’m a junior member of the firm. He could say he couldn’t spare me.”

“Then leave the firm and come with me anyway. I’ll pay you!”

“He is your legal guardian,” Henry reminded her. “He might stop you from using any funds for the venture.”

Della gasped. It was a possibility she hadn’t thought about. “You don’t think he would threaten that?”

“It’s possible if he felt it were for your good.”

“But I must find out the truth about my sister. It is what my parents would wish!”

“Find out some other way.”

“I think this Prince Sanzio is too old and frail to be willing to bring her to London,” she said. “There is no other way.”

“You’re determined to go through with it?”

“Yes.”

“In spite of what has happened?”

She nodded. “I must!”

He sighed. “Very well. When I talk with Sir Roger I will argue your case as well as I can. But do not count on his agreeing.”

“We must find a way,” she said.

His face shadowed. “They haven’t caught that man yet. He may be mad. And he may have confederates. You can’t tell how risky your situation is.”

“The police think he may have already left the country.”

“Let us hope they are right,” Henry said. “You must exercise extreme caution when you leave the hospital. Not go anywhere on your own.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You make my future sound so dismal.”

“Because I want you to have a future,” he said.

“Henry, dear,” she said. “You always were such a worrier.”

He smiled. “At least I have no need to worry about you and me any longer.”

“No,” she agreed. “At least that’s settled.”

“Rest yourself,” he told her. “In a few days you will be home and this will all seem like a kind of nightmare.”

She gave him a knowing look. “Nightmares seem to have a way of recurring.”

Later she wondered why she had said it. Later she was to think that it had been a kind of second-sight. It was as if she’d looked into the future and saw what was ahead of her.

The next day Sir Roger Drexel came to see her again and remained with her longer. Seated at her bedside, the craggy-faced old man showed great concern.

“I’m worried about your insisting on going to Rome,” he said.

“I will not change my mind.”

“Even if it places you in great danger.”

“I doubt that it will. I’ll have Henry Clarkson to protect me.”

Sir Roger raised his white eyebrows. “So you have made your peace with him?”

“Yes. I was wrong and ready to admit it.”

“You weren’t a few days ago,” he reminded her.

She blushed. “Things have changed since then.”

“My dear, you can be stubborn when you like. Don’t deny it as it happens to be true!”

“I’ll grant you that,” she said.

“Too stubborn for your own good, often enough,” he went on.

“So?”

“Will you one day be ready to admit this visit to Rome ill-advised. Perhaps when it is too late.”

“I’m committed to find my sister.”

The old man sighed. “I might be able to prevent you going if I take a strong stand against it.”

She reached out and touched his gnarled hand. “I’m sure you won’t do that. It would be betraying your trust to my mother and father. Their dearest wish was that Irma be found and restored to the family.”

BOOK: Vintage Love
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