Aunt Sophie's Diamonds (17 page)

Miss Bliss rose to glide from the room, and Sir Hillary went to intercept her. “I wanted to have a word with you, Miss Bliss,” he said. “Did you think I had come begging for the chess set, when I asked for you? I had, of course, but having invented a pretext for my visit, I am determined to present it."

He walked with her to the door, and they chatted a while. Something to do with Luane, Marcia assumed, and ignored them. A small package was handed into Miss Bliss's care, and she went immediately to her room to dispose of it. Sir Hillary returned to the Crimson Saloon and began putting the chessmen in their niches in the box.

"I have bad news for you,” he said to the girls as he did this.

"But she was
smiling!
I made sure she said I could go!” Claudia said in a disheartened voice.

"She gave her permission for the trip to London. The bad news is of my own devising. I am making a stipulation regarding the trip. You must promise me you will not go digging up Aunt Sophie tonight."

They had forgotten about it in the excitement of the trip, but once it was called to their minds, it seemed a steep price to pay, even for a trip to London.

"And let Jonathon walk off with my necklace? How
can
you suggest such a thing, Sir Hillary?” Luane demanded.

"He will not do so."

"You can't know that."

"We'll compromise,” Claudia intervened. “We'll bear watch on Jonathon tonight, and if
he
doesn't go after the diamonds,
we
won't. Will that serve as well, Sir Hillary?"

He considered it a moment. “One slight handicap occurs to me. Bearing watch on Jonathon all night will play havoc with your rest. You won't close your eyes till dawn, and we mean to leave at eight. And I might just mention that when I say eight, I mean eight, not eight-thirty or nine-thirty or any other hour that suits you. If we are to have a decent visit, we must make an early start."

"I am usually up by seven,” Claudia told him, “and shall make myself responsible for having Loo ready too. But about staying awake all night, I daresay we would be a trifle pulled by tomorrow. Still, we can't leave him an open field. Even seeing the horses at Astley's isn't worth that."

"I suggest another compromise then,” Sir Hillary began. “Jonathan is working on his accounts. I'll ask him over to Chanely with me, and offer to give him a hand with them. It's a bad day; he'll be in no hurry to return. A snug dinner, a couple of stiff belts of brandy, and I can persuade him to remain the night."

"He might agree to it,” Luane said. “Then
he
can keep an eye on
you,
while
you
are keeping an eye on
him."

"Just so—we hold each other in check,” Hillary agreed.

"And he'd never tackle it in the broad daylight, so while we are gone tomorrow the diamonds will be safe,” Claudia added. “So everything will be fine till tomorrow night."

"You girls never give up,” Gabriel said with a weary sigh.

"I hope we are not quitters!” Loo turned on him. He had managed to reinstate himself in her good graces during the morning by talking enthusiastically about the projected trip to London, but this reminded her of what a quitter he had turned out to be, and she sneered at him.

"I'll take the whelp home before these two come to cuffs again,” Hillary said aside to Claudia. “Are you quite sure you want to chaperone this hoyden of a girl? I cannot think it would be a pleasant task."

"It wouldn't be so unpleasant as trying to knock reading and arithmetic into my cousins’ skulls,” she replied.

"You act as tutor?''

"Yes, they, too, live with grandpa. Their father was papa's brother, and since my grandfather is becoming gouty, he is leaving the running of the estate to my Uncle Gerald. I keep out of mischief by trying to teach them."

"No pleasant task, from that frown,” Thoreau remarked.

"It's not so bad when they will settle down to work, but usually they are blowing holes in their desks with winkies—salt peter and a candle you know—or throwing the ink and books at each other, or me, or bringing mice or badgers into the schoolroom. They are hard to control as their mama doesn't like me to hit them. However, they mean no harm. They are not
bad
boys, only high-spirited."

"They should be sent away to school."

"Grandmama is afraid they wouldn't receive a proper religious education and has convinced their father to have them educated at home. But they will be soon getting into Latin and Greek, and I have some hopes they will hire a tutor before I am quite done in."

An angry scowl greeted this remark, and fearing she had in some manner revealed herself as the lazy, spineless creature she was so often told she was, she took her leave of him.

Jonathon was not too reluctant to exchange the drafty, dusty study in which he labored for the gracious warmth of Chanely, and if anyone could make heads or tails of these scrambled accounts, it was Sir Hillary—as clever as an accountant with figures. The eagerness with which he snatched at the invitation even gave rise to the suspicion that he had been looking for an excuse to go to Chanely. Within ten minutes he was out the door and did not return to Swallowcourt that night.

Sir Hillary was out in his estimation if he thought he would be kept waiting by the ladies. They were from their beds at six, had dressed, eaten, and done all that was necessary before seven-thirty, save throw on their bonnets and pelisses. They therefore had an impatient wait for the appearance of Thoreau's traveling carriage and team of four. Miss Bliss had risen early to see them off, knowing Mrs. Milmont would not be on hand.

"Everything all right?” Hillary asked her when he was admitted to the house.

She nodded quietly and slipped into his hand that same parcel he had given her the previous day under the pretext of taking his hat.

"We've been ready and waiting this age,” Loo told him.

As promised, the gentlemen had removed their armbands, and it was a merry party that set out for the metropolis. The ladies did not look precisely fashionable, but in their best bonnets and pelisses, they were at least respectable. Gab and Loo sat on one side of the banquette in the carriage, and Claudia and Thoreau on the other. Both girls found it exceedingly pleasant to have a sheepskin rug beneath their feet, a snug blanket over their laps, and satin squabs to cushion their backs and heads.

"What luxury!” Claudia marveled. “This seems a positively decadent carriage."

"We have more debauchery in store for you,” Hillary promised. “Hot coffee in this wicker basket you see here on the floor, and some scones, still warm from the oven. I had my cook make them specially this morning, in case the crumbs at Swallowcourt were not sufficient for two growing girls."

"Sir Hillary always does things in style,” Luane informed her cousin. “He doesn't often exert himself, but when he
does
take you anywhere, you may be sure he will not stint."

"Thank you,” Hillary said with a quelling look at his ward, who smiled sweetly back at him.

"Let's eat, before everything gets cold,” Loo suggested. Whatever they had managed to find to eat at Swallowcourt did not appear to have dulled their appetites, for every drop of the coffee and every bit of the scones was dispatched within twenty minutes.

Settling back amidst the pagan luxury, Claudia said to her companion, “I take it you talked Jonathon into staying the night? I didn't hear him come home."

"He's still sleeping, or was when I left. The accounts are in such a state we were up till midnight trying to make any sense of them. Old Sophie was a dreadful rackrent. If Jonathon had known the way she was letting the whole place go to ruin, he would have been justified in having in the authorities. An entailed estate is subject to minimal maintenance. I mentioned it to him more than once, but he was afraid it would turn her against him. I never thought he had much hope of getting anything more than the estate."

"It seems a pity, and he can't sell it either since it's entailed."

"Nor rent it, unless he brings it into some sort of order. It was really very bad of Sophie to serve him such a trick. I wonder if she had in her mind to do more for him when the rest of the will is read."

"The diamonds, you mean? Is that why you're bound and bent Loo shan't have them?"

"I'm not bound and bent Loo shan't have them! And it isn't the diamonds he'd get if he got anything else. I only want to keep you two gravediggers out of Bridewell."

"If
you
would help us..."

"Shall we speak of something else? I had hoped to escape the whole saga of the Beresford Diamonds for this one day."

They spoke of other things—of what they were to do that day
first,
then carefully Hillary steered the conversation to a more personal vein. What were Claudia's grandparents like, and her uncle and aunt, the children. How did she amuse herself at home, and did she go to many parties? How did she usually pass her holiday with her mother?

A picture emerged of a dreary existence under the thumb of an austere grandmother who was dead set against frivolity, and a grandfather under the cat's paw, though of more lenient tendencies himself. The yearly holiday with Marcia sounded equally boring. Always in the late winter—the worst time of the year for any gaiety in the city, chosen, of course, to keep the girl's age a secret. He also asked casually when her father had died and, a few moments later, how old she had been at the time. When London was reached, he had a pretty accurate picture of Miss Milmont's age and circumstances and a confirmed dislike of her mother.

The interest of all the occupants of the carriage turned to the scenery as they entered the city, and Gabriel said, “You're going out of your way, aren't you, Uncle? I thought we would be going downtown."

"We'll stop at my place first to freshen up,” he replied, as they continued through the fashionable West End. Claudia recognized the district, but was not very familiar with it as mama lived farther south in Belgrave Square.

"Another Palace Beautiful!” she said as the carriage pulled up in front of a mansion done in the Palladian style, brick with columns in front. “Do you live here too?” she asked Sir Hillary.

"I spoil myself,” he admitted. “Your grandmother would have a poor opinion of me."

They alighted, and he said to his driver, “I'll leave this team here. Hitch up the other and have the carriage ready in an hour."

They were admitted through double oak portals by a butler, and the ladies were shown upstairs by a maid.

"Sir Hillary must be very rich,” Claudia said in an awed voice to her cousin, when they had been left alone in a large, handsome chamber.

"He has a lot of Consoles or something that seem to make one very rich,” Loo told her. “Aunt Sophie has them, too."

"What can they be?” Claudia asked in perplexity. Luane shrugged her shoulders and pulled off her bonnet. “I wish I could stay here when I come to London, but as Hillary is a bachelor ... But what a pair of gossoons we are, cousin! We ought to get busy and find him a wife."

"Does he not have anyone in mind? He seems very old to be still a bachelor."

They brushed their hair and splashed water on their faces and hands as they talked, turning aside from time to admire some ornament or piece of furniture.

"He's thirty-two. He has a new flirt every year,” Loo said. “I've met some of them when he brings parties to Chanely, but he never brings the same girl twice."

"I expect they are very pretty."

"Diamonds of the first water, Gabriel calls them. Shall we go? He hates to be kept waiting."

"Yes, let's, or he'll get snarky again.” The two scampered down the long staircase. “He told the driver not to come back for an hour,” Claudia said. “What can he mean to do here for so long?"

"His man of business might come here to save going into the city."

They discovered when they went below that the hour was to be spent much more pleasantly than that. A fine luncheon was laid, awaiting them in a small dining parlor. “This will save time,” he explained.

"I thought we'd get to eat out at an hotel or restaurant,” Loo pouted.

Claudia could not think any hotel would provide a more sumptuous repast than that awaiting their pleasure—roast fowl and sliced ham, a raised pigeon pie, and side dishes of vegetables promised a pleasant break in the day.

"Don't worry, brat. I didn't forget your cream buns,” Hillary said, and she was satisfied with that bribe.

"Did you send word ahead we were coming?” Gab asked.

"Yes, my cook is at Chanely, and my housekeeper had to make the meal by herself. I didn't want to leave it to chance."

Loo engaged Gabriel in a discussion of their schedule, and Claudia sat stunned in consideration of this elevated style of living. When she and grandpapa went to the city for a visit, they usually took a boxed lunch, and grandpa told her not to mention to his wife that they stopped for an ice or pastries and coffee.

"By the way,” Hillary said aside to Claudia, “I told your mama a whisker that I kept two chefs. You might not mention what I just said. It would set me down a peg in her eyes."

"Of course, you wouldn't want to risk
that!"
she quizzed him.

"No, I mean to remain on terms with her if I can."

"You might even induce her to come to one of your London parties, if you butter her up sufficiently,” she said, smiling.

"I have quite resign ...
decided
on it."

"I can't think why you should have
resigned
yourself to anything of the sort."

"Can you not, little Claudia? Then I have not been making myself as clear as I thought I had."

"What—you cannot mean it! Do you
really
intend to make me Loo's chaperone?"

"Yes, that is my intention."

"Surely I am not old enough."

"You've aged a few years since yesterday, when you were twenty."

She was unoffended. “I have no experience along such lines. Oh, I should love it, of course."

"You're not going to do a Lady Turn-about on me, I trust?"