He sauntered from the room, while his wife turned to Moncrief. “Do you notice anything different about me?” she asked, rising from her pillows and patting her wisps of curls, while her blue eyes regarded him from beneath lowered eyelids.
“Certainly I do. A new coiffure. Very nice, Lady Palgrave,” he said, with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.
It was what one particularly hated about Moncrief, that he was neither adoring nor rude, which would have done nearly as well. Rudeness was due to either jealousy or unrequited love. Moncrief was always polite to a fault.
“It has set quite a new style in London I promise you.”
“I believe the Prince was wearing something similar before I left,” he mentioned.
“I am the only lady wearing it! It is said I am the patron saint of hairdressers, for having set a new style. Of course I brought Angelo with me. I could not do without him.”
“And you can save money by lending him to Harvey when you do not require his services,” he pointed out. He was subjected to a calculating appraisal, to determine whether he was being satirical. His bland smile told her nothing. “Tell me, Lady Palgrave,” he went on, “where did you chance to hear of this great ruby? It is odd there were no rumors of such a gem for sale.”
“It was the greatest luck in the world! The very day we arrived—the day before yesterday—we were at a small rout party at Lord Clancarty’s place. The first day you know, we had to resort to our English connections, though we mean to move totally in the international set once we are established. But Clancarty asked us to a small rout to meet some people, and that was where we saw it.”
“Clancarty had it?”
“That old stick? Certainly not! How should he have the Star of Burma? It was a Miss Kruger who had it—an Austrian girl, who came to the party especially to meet us. Her Papa used to be in England, Harvey says, but I don’t remember him.”
“That would be Peter Kruger’s daughter,” he said at once.
“I believe that was the name someone mentioned. We shall be sure to call on them, for they are very good socially, Clancarty says. The girl’s aunt is a Countess von something or other. You must know Maria—surely she is one of the belles of the city.”
“Oh yes, I know her slightly.”
“A thin, doe-eyed girl, with a regal neck. Not in my own style. Harvey, of course, fell in love with her on the spot. Actually it was Harvey who saw the ruby there.”
“Was she wearing it?”
“No, had it chucked in her reticule, and thought it was paste—imagine! Some friend had lent it to her to wear, but she didn’t like it—only took it to avoid hurting the woman’s feelings actually.”
“Just pulled it out of her reticule and showed it to Harvey, did she?” he asked, with his brows raised.
“Not quite like that. She sneezed, you see, and reached quickly into her bag for a handkerchief, and it fell out. Harvey says that even before he lifted it off the floor, he saw the glorious star glowing deep inside it, for the light struck it at just the right angle. And when he picked it up, his fingers were trembling so. He could hardly credit what he held. And then for her to laugh, as though it were a joke for a gem of such a size to be rolling about the carpet. Only of course it did not actually roll. It is mounted in a rather hideous cluster of diamonds—a brooch. I shall have it redone somehow. Too large for a ring. A pendant on a diamond necklace Harvey thinks.” She lapsed into a considering silence, while Moncrief hastily considered that this tale, if true, had all the earmarks of a setup. Kruger was not a name one would expect to hear in connection with such an affair. It was a good, old family.
“Who was it that loaned the brooch to Miss Kruger?” he asked.
“Feydeau is her name. She is perfectly horrid, Harvey says. That is what he usually says when he does not want me to meet his new flirts. She is French—Mademoiselle Feydeau, come to the city for the Congress. Nothing is known of her. She does not move in the best circles. In fact, she does not seem to move at all, from what I can discover. No one knows her.”
Palgrave returned, dangling from his fingers the ruby, which hung on a link from the diamond-clustered brooch. “Here she is,” he said, handing it to his cousin. “A beauty, ain’t she? Hard to credit finding a dark ruby of such a size without a flaw. I’ve had it to a jewel merchant, and he agrees with me I have got a real bargain.”
Moncrief accepted the jewel and walked to the window to examine it. Even without the aid of a glass, he could see the telltale star twinkling in the depths of the stone. “Pigeon-blood red. The best sort,” Palgrave pointed out, with a satisfied sigh.
“How much?” his cousin asked.
“Five thousand pounds.”
Moncrief raised his brows, this time in congratulations. “Cheap at the price. The only detail to concern us now is whether Mademoiselle Feydeau had the right to sell the stone. Is it stolen, in other words.”
“Shouldn’t think so. Mean to say, the gel thought it was only paste. Could have got it from her for an old song if I’d been dishonest.”
“How did she come by it?” Moncrief asked.
“Somebody gave it to her. Wouldn’t say who, but I figure it was a man. She thought from the size of it, it must be a fake. She don’t know a thing about jewelry, to tell the truth. She was wearing a cheap strass glass ring that she thought
was
a diamond. It wouldn’t cut butter, let alone glass.”
“You know, of course, where this ruby comes from?” he asked.
“I know what old Binder told me—the jeweler I took it to for appraisal. Says it’s from Burma, but has been cut by a European craftsman. He thinks maybe it was cut some few years ago, for it ain’t just as well done as they do it nowadays.”
“You have not heard any other rumors?”
“You mean what Chabon is saying, about it being part of the French crown jewels? Daresay he may be right.”
“A star ruby of this size—there aren’t many of them. There was one in that collection that was stolen in France. It is a great pity you were taken in, but I believe I can get your money back for you . . .” Moncrief began in a matter-of-fact voice, hoping to settle the matter in this facile fashion.
“I don’t want my money back!” Palgrave said at once. “What I mean to do is try to find the Blue Tavernier diamond, to go with the ruby. If the ruby’s here, who is to say the blue diamond ain’t? I promised Googie a blue diamond. Seems to me, Mademoiselle Feydeau’s friend was connected with that robbery in some manner, and she may have a line on other items of interest to me."
“Did you ask her?”
“Didn’t know where this little sweetheart came from at the time,” he replied, lifting the brooch from his cousin's fingers, to caress.
“That would be very foolish, Harvey. The gems are stolen. They must certainly be returned to France. Whether you ever get a penny of your money back is a moot point. You know how slowly the mills of the government grind. There will be a bill required to arrange the matter. The Whigs will raise a hundred points of order to slow its passage . . ."
“Finders keepers,” was the simpleminded refutation.
“Possession is nine points of the law,” his wife added, in a self-righteous manner. Then she arose to glide towards her husband and take the brooch from him, to dangle in a beam of light from the window, with a possessive smile on her face.
“I would not involve myself in such a messy and illegal business for a wilderness of monkeys,” Moncrief persisted. “Why should you pay out huge sums to sully your name, buying stolen jewelry, when there is such a quantity of beautiful and legal stuff floating around? Every hostess in town is at the bottom of her purse, to finance the lavish parties that occur every day and night. Sagan herself has her emeralds up on the block. These jewels in particular I would avoid. Stolen from a monarch, you know, increases the seriousness of the affair.”
“Rubbish!” Lady Palgrave said, with strong feelings. “Harvey had the whole story from a book in the library. He went and got it as soon as those stories began circulating, and half the stuff in the French king’s collection was stolen from someone in the first place. The blue diamond, for instance, was robbed right out of a statue in India. How can the Frenchies have the nerve to demand back a diamond that they stole in the first place?”
“Louis did not steal it, but bought it from Tavernier.”
“Well Harvey did not steal my ruby either, but bought it from Mademoiselle Feydeau,” was the reply to this effort.
Moncrief drew a deep breath and settled down for a long argument. “The thing is,” he began, knowing before he spoke that patriotism was a poor weapon to use against this pair of
enfants
gâtés
, “the timing could hardly be worse.”
“Well you’re dead wrong, Tatt,” Harvey countered. “The timing is perfect. If that blue diamond is ever going to surface, this is the time and place it will happen. I tremble to think how close we came to missing it. It was only the merest chance that we came here, for I had thought to take Googie to Greece to recover . . . but then the whole world and his dog is here, in Vienna.”
“Castlereagh foresees some chance of mischief if word gets around that an Englishman has got hold of the stolen jewels, you see. There are extremely delicate negotiations in progress, involving so many countries that some misconstruction is bound to be put on the purchase.”
“Pshaw,” Palgrave said, with a dismissing batting of his hand. His boyish face looked quite sulky, as a blond curl tumbled over his forehead. “Never heard such a bag of moonshine in my life. How should it make any difference if I want to buy Googie a blue diamond? None of Castlereagh’s business. He’d pick it up fast enough himself if he had the blunt, to stick on that fat wife of his.”
“It is the fact of its being the King of France’s diamond . . ."
“No such a thing! Well, there is no King of France at the moment. It ain’t quite decided we’re to put Louis back on the throne, as far as I can figure out. There’s a rumor Napoleon’s kid is to go on the throne to rule as a regent. Sounds silly to me, but then he’s already been King of Rome, hasn’t he?”
“We must meet his Mama, Marie Louise, while we are here,” Googie interrupted. “They stay at Schonbrunn Palace I understand. How should we go about meeting them, Tatt? Could Castlereagh arrange it, or should we approach Metternich? You are on terms with his wife, Laure,” she added, turning to her husband.
“Marie Louise sees no one. She takes no part in the celebrations,” Moncrief told them.
“Poor thing. I daresay they won’t let her,” Googie replied, then settled back to stare at the ruby, envisioning alternative settings for it, and alternative avenues of access to Marie Louise and the King of Rome.
“If the jewels appear at all at this time,” Moncrief began again, “it will be seen as some chicanery—some political ploy. It has been suggested even that it is an agent of Napoleon Bonaparte who is trying to sell them, to finance his return. Now you must see, Harvey, we cannot have an Englishman involved in it, when we are supporting the Bourbons. It will cast the Austrians in a pucker, and give the Tsar a stick to beat us with, and . . ."
“How in the deuce should tsars and emperors have a thing to do with my buying Googie a trinket?”
“But they have, Cousin. Prince Talleyrand, for instance, is trying to get our help to restore France to its former size and glory . . ."
“Well dash it, I ain’t the one that says how big France can be! Nothing to do with the politics of the thing in the least. I only mean to buy the diamond at a fair price, same as I did the Star of Burma.”
“I understand that, Harvey, but even the
rumor
, you see, can be harmful. You would not want to disrupt the negotiations.”
“Oh no! Certainly not. I’ll do the whole on the sly. You may count on my complete discretion.”
“Hanging that oversized ruby on your wife’s bosom was not exactly discreet,” he was reminded.
“Didn’t know at the time it had anything to do with politics. Now that I know, I’ll be as discreet as—as the dickens.”
“Does that mean I won’t be able to wear my blue diamond?” Googie asked at once. “Pray, what is the point of having one, if she is not allowed to wear it?”
“Heh heh, no such a thing, my pet,” Harvey assured her, with a broad wink over her head to his cousin, to show he was merely humoring a mindless female.
“You
promised
me a blue diamond, Harvey my dear,” she said, her voice becoming thin.
“You may be sure I will keep my promise too.”
Moncrief saw that he was wasting his time. There was to be no dissuading this self-indulgent couple. He must attack the business from the other end, the seller of the diamond. “This Mademoiselle Feydeau, where does she live?” he asked.
“Don’t know exactly,” Harvey replied.
“Did you not call on her, to make the purchase of the ruby?”
“No, I met her in the Prater actually. Miss Kruger took her home a note, and she sent me an answer telling me the time and place. The Krugers would be able to tell you where she stays. I ain’t sure she ain’t putting up with them. They are on the best of terms anyway—well, must be their guest. Maria took her the note.”
“Odd Mademoiselle is not seen in society in that case. I should have thought any close friend of the Krugers must be acceptable.”
“Oh she was very acceptable!” Harvey said at once. Googie shot him a resentful glance. “For a Frenchie that is to say,” he modified.
Moncrief arose. “You won’t do anything without first seeing me, Harvey?”
“No, by Jove. Be happy for your advice, Tatt. I know there’s no faking a star ruby, but a fake diamond is not so easy to spot. Be very happy if you’d have a look at it for me, when I find it. I mean to speak to Feydeau about it today. No saying she hasn’t got the Tavernier rolling around in the bottom of some drawer, thinking it’s only paste.”
“I doubt if Mademoiselle is so gullible as you seem to think.”
“You’re not leaving so soon?” Googie asked, adopting a pout. “Harvey is just about to leave,” she added, with a meaningful shot out of the corner of her large, lustrous eyes. She liked very well what she saw. Moncrief coincided closely with her idea of what a man should be. He was tall and dark, to complement her petiteness and fair coloring. Harvey was too similar to herself to be a good foil for her charms. One could not be forever seen about with her own husband either, or she would be taken for a flat. She had not yet gathered around her a court in Vienna. Moncrief would make an excellent first minister.