Aunt Sophie's Diamonds (10 page)

"I meant to do so, though, of course, if the animal was rubbed down an hour ago, there will be no telling."

Claudia examined all the horses in the stable, but as foreseen, if any had been out, it had been rubbed down and no evidence remained. She and Luane let themselves in by the kitchen door and got to bed with no difficulty.

On Tuesday the young ladies slept in late after their busy night, and it was not until after ten that they met in the breakfast room. Claudia was not surprised to see that her mama was not up yet; she knew her to be a late sleeper. Nor was she surprised to see Jonathon awake and dressed in his scarlet regimentals, the buttons gleaming. What did offer her not only a surprise but a severe shock was to observe him bending over backwards to make himself pleasing to Luane, who fought off his every advance with an irate retort.

"I have been giving a good deal of thought to you,” he attempted coyly to Miss Beresford. “Some arrangement must be made for your welfare now that your aunt is gone, poor old girl."

"Sir Hillary is my guardian,” Loo replied.
"He
will look after me."

"Yes, but you cannot go to a bachelor's house. Not the thing. I have something else to suggest.” Luane didn't even bother to ask what, but Claudia was so curious she asked the question. “Why, to be sure, she must stay on here. I'll speak to Miss Bliss, and I'm sure she'll agree to chaperone you.

"This is a bachelor's establishment, too,” Luane pointed out.

"No such a thing! I'll be in London nine-tenths of the time, and with Miss Bliss to play propriety, I might visit my cousin from time to time."

"I am not your cousin,” Luane said curtly. “We are only slightly connected through Sophie."

"Dear Aunt Sophie.
She
would have wanted you to make your home here."

"Much I care what
she
wanted."

"Heh, heh, what a little minx she is, eh, Miss Milmont? Tell her she must stay here."

"I cannot think it is for me, or indeed anyone but her guardian to decide that,” Miss Milmont replied.

"We shall discuss it another time. Think about it. You know you are welcome—more than welcome, both of you, for so long as you wish to remain. You, too, Miss Milmont."

"Thank you,” a dazed Claudia replied. She had made sure Jonathon's first aim would be to get rid of them all as soon as possible. It seemed forthcoming for them to go on billeting themselves on him, now that Sophie was dead and buried. She had dreaded the prospect of leaving, for she hadn't so enjoyed herself in her whole lonesome life since papa's death. In Devon she had been the only young person in the house for several years, till her papa's younger brother came to live with them, bringing his two young sons with him.

Grandpapa was becoming too old to run the estate. The brother's wife was not an engaging woman, and while the boys were well enough, they were of the wrong age and sex to be any company to a young lady.

Grandmama was a dame of strict principles which she tried to inculcate into her granddaughter. One believed she really wanted to be a Quaker, only her husband forbade the official adopting of the religion. So far as any fun or partying went, she was as good as a Quaker. Life was tedious for a girl still youngish, and the two weeks with mama were not much better, though she looked forward to them annually with hope.

Mama was as different as it was possible to be from the Milmonts, and no favorite in that quarter. She led a gay, partying life with dozens of beautiful gowns, but the visits took place in late winter when the city was asleep, and Claudia, as she got older, was kept as much in the background as possible.

On two occasions the annual vacation had been spent in Bath, but there, too, social outings had been sadly limited. Visits to the Pump Room, the circulating library, drives, and walks were the entertainment. Mama did not think she would like to visit the Assembly Rooms and, as she was not going anywhere, there was no reason to buy gowns. Every year she looked forward to the visit, but by the end of the two weeks, she was usually looking forward to getting home again.

She had never had a young girl friend. Loo was not only that, but a cousin, someone of the family with whom she could talk and laugh and, most of all, share an adventure. She was determined to do all in her power to help Luane get her diamonds and, if it were possible, which it was not, she would very well like to be the girl's chaperone. So she was pleased, if curious, to hear Jonathon urge her to stay on at Swallowcourt. She hoped mama would agree to remain for the entire holiday. She couldn't think she'd object, for the visit had been spoken of as for the two-week holiday. In fact, the London servants had been given a vacation and, if they left here, there would be a problem where to go.

"I have been thinking how to amuse you young ladies,” Jonathon continued, very much the host. “As we are all in mourning, I cannot have a ball as I would otherwise like to do, or a party, but we must do something to entertain you. Would you both like to take a drive into Maldon—that is the closest town, Miss Milmont—and do a bit of shopping? See the sights, such as they are, and have a neat little luncheon at an inn. What do you say, eh?"

Claudia was much inclined to say yes and jump up and down in glee, but her cousin turned a cold eye on the offer and replied, “I must wait till Sir Hillary and Gabriel come. They may have other plans."

"No need to wait on them. All the time in the world to arrange things with Sir Hillary,” Jonathon urged.

"I wish to know if he has deposited my tiara in the bank. I have the idea someone may try to steal it,” Loo returned, quite pointedly.

Claudia gulped on her coffee and rushed in to save the day. “It is a worry having all these valuable jewels just lying about. I ought to do something with my emerald, too, and mama should take some precaution for her pearls. It is no wonder you are worried, Luane."

The three retired to the study where a small fire was lit in the grate, and for a quarter of an hour they discussed the renovations that were necessary at Swallowcourt, with Jonathon professing a great interest in what Luane considered desirable. Gold satin walls and white marble fireplaces met with no objection, and ripping out the great staircase and installing a new one with gold leaf trim was greatly admired. Even replacing the orchards with a pavilion was considered appropriate.

"It will cost a great deal of money,” Luane said. “I cannot think how you will pay for the half of it, unless you marry an heiress."

Jonathon blushed, his pink face echoing the red of his tunic, and mumbled, “No such a thing,” just as the butler announced the arrival of Sir Hillary Thoreau and Mr. Tewksbury.

"At last!” Luane said, running to the door. She waited for nothing but rushed right in with a report of the morning's doings. “Jonathon wants me to stay on here with Miss Bliss,” she said, “but I told him
you
would decide what I am to do."

Sir Hillary's eyebrows rose an inch. He said nothing for a moment, and when he spoke surprised everyone in the room. “An excellent notion,” he said. “I confess some such arrangement had occurred to me, but I was by no means sure the captain would oblige us with the offer."

"She can't stay here!” Gabriel shouted.

"It is the last place in the world I want to be,” Loo said bluntly.

"Seems very reasonable to
me,"
Jonathon said to Hillary, ignoring the uproar from the younger members. “Been her home for some years now. Daresay she'll be getting married pretty soon. No point in having her move; besides, where should she go?"

"Where indeed?” Hillary asked. “She has some little monies from her mama, enough to pay for her chaperone. Miss Bliss is agreeable, is she?"

"Haven't asked her. You might be the one to handle that quarter. Seem to have some influence with the old girl."

"Shall we ask her?” Hillary said.

"Yes, by Jove. Let's get the matter settled,” the captain rejoined and went off to look for Miss Bliss.

"I do not at all want to stay here,” Luane challenged Sir Hillary the moment Jonathon had left.

"No, Uncle Hil,” Gabriel added his entreaties. “If she is to be in a bachelor's home, she might better be at Chanely."

Claudia edged her way to Hillary's side and said in a low voice, while the other two discussed the matter, “Something very strange is afoot here. Before you arrived, the captain was exerting himself to be agreeable to Loo. Was he always interested in her?"

"No, he never had an eye for anything but an heiress."

"A small tiara and a caseful of glass stones doth not an heiress make."

"There was that interesting phrase in the will you recall, something about depending how events fall out in the intervening year. He has reason to believe, or believes in any case, that if he marries Loo, he gets the blunt. He may even be right."

"She'll never have him."

"He can but try."

"I'm surprised you lend yourself to this scheme. You must know he'll camp on her doorstep—do all in his power to win her."

"Jealous, little Claudia? Is he not making love to you, as you had hoped? Don't worry. She wouldn't have him if he were the last man on earth."

"She may have no choice. This set-up lends itself very well to compromise, and I'm surprised you hadn't noticed it."

"And so should I be surprised at myself, if I
hadn't
noticed it."

"What do you mean to do, then?"

"To keep you and your mama here to watch over her till I make some other arrangement."

"He has asked us to stay."

"Has he indeed? Am I incorrect in my surmise that he hasn't been making up to you then?"

She tossed her head and glared. “I am only on a two-week holiday, and already half of one week is gone. There's no counting on mama to stay beyond the two weeks."

"I'm amazed she has consented to rusticate so long, but two weeks should be more than sufficient."

"Sir Hillary, have you a Plan?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.

"You may leave the matter in my hands."

"And the other matter—the coffin. Have you completed arrangements for its remove to Chanely?"

"I am not at all sure it is necessary."

"You mean to cut the box open at the graveyard?"

"That too may prove unnecessary."

Captain Tewksbury came back with Miss Bliss in tow before this cryptic phrase could be explained, and the plan devised for Loo's keeping was put to her.

She proposed a dozen reasons for its ineligibility, including a chicken farm and the impropriety of a lady's staying in a bachelor's home, but it was borne in on her by a significant glance from Thoreau that he wished her to remain, and she eventually capitulated.

Luane was in the sulks, and Gabriel in a state not far removed from the same. “I suppose you didn't take my tiara to the bank either,” Loo said, to show him her opinion of his guardianship.

"Certainly I did."

"I wouldn't put it a bit past someone to try to steal it,” she said, shooting a black scowl at the captain as she spoke. He looked out the window, and ruined his seeming nonchalance by clearing his throat nervously.

"As a matter of fact,” Sir Hillary replied, “someone did, last night."

Everyone except Gabriel and Miss Bliss had to feign surprise at this, but the latter's very real surprise saved it from becoming an embarrassment. She demanded an explanation, which was given tersely and simply.

Just as the explanation was completed, Mrs. Milmont entered the room, and it had to be given over again. She was as indignant as if it had been the pearls that had been attacked and demanded immediately to know what Sir Hillary meant to do about it.

"I took them to the bank this morning for safekeeping,” he told her.

"I trust you also reported it to the constable."

"I did not like to do so when it was only ourselves—exactly the small group here—who knew I had the tiara."

"I hope you are not accusing
me!"
Mrs. Milmont responded angrily. “Nor my daughter, for I assure you
we
did not budge an inch from the house the entire night, did we, Claudia?"

"No, mama."

"Certainly not, and we shared the same bed, didn't we, Claudia?"

"Yes, mama."

"I scarcely closed an eye all night long."

"Did she, Claudia?” Hillary asked with a twinkle. She frowned heavily at him.

"I can assure you neither Claudia nor myself moved all night. I daresay Luane just decided she wanted to keep the tiara herself and ran over to bring it home. I shouldn't blame her in the least. I don't see why
you
must have the good of it till she's eighteen."

"It doesn't suit me at all,” he agreed reluctantly.

"There is no need to report the matter,” Marcia Milmont went on, oblivious to sarcasm. “It would only create mischief."

"Just what I thought myself, ma'am,” Hillary agreed.

"I did not take it!” Luane bristled at Mrs. Milmont.

"Hush up, you silly girl. Do you want to have someone thrown in jail? These matters are best kept within the family. Your tiara is locked up now safely enough, and no one can steal it."

"It may be
now,
but I have a pretty good idea who tried to steal it!” Luane said, with an angry look at Jonathon.

"Yes, well
I
have a pretty good idea who went sneaking out in the middle of the night to try to rob the grave of diamonds, too,” he retaliated. “And don't think
I
was the one who tried to steal your old tiara, for it's nothing but a bit of tin with diamond chips not worth a groat in it."

"You don't mean the diamond necklace has been
stolen!"
Mrs. Milmont shrieked and seemed in danger of swooning. “We are surrounded by sneaks and thieves."

"No, it wasn't taken,” Gabriel assured her.

"Wasn't it though?” Jonathon asked, looking baffled.

"As if you didn't know perfectly well there was a sealed steel box inside the coffin,” Gabriel charged. “And that's the only reason you weren't there trying to get the necklace yourself."

"A steel box! Good God, that's why the coffin was so heavy,” Jonathon shouted. And if he's acting, he's giving an excellent performance, Hillary said to himself. He stood looking on quietly, observing everyone carefully.