Dangerous Games. Charlotte MedeЧитать онлайн книгу.
of which was a feast designed to draw forth excellent stories and clever conversation, and, more important, create the most pleasant diversion, a nod to normalcy. Casting an experienced glance around the dining room, Lilly allowed herself to relax for the first time that evening, the tightness in her shoulders easing fractionally. Aware of Seabourne still at her side, his plate piled high with confections, she took a final sip of her punch, nodding to the various guests who made their way to and from the buffet.
Seabourne patted his lips with the heavy linen napkin. “Are you certain you will not have anything to eat, my dear?” he asked, the sharpness of his gaze belying the concern in his voice. He was a valued diplomat for a reason, his discerning eyes and ears absorbing the most subtle leitmotifs like a sponge.
Lily smoothed the rich bombazine of her bodice, the jet beads biting into her palms. She smiled brightly. “I had my tea earlier, realizing full well how time-consuming the preparations for the evening usually are,” she said. “But thank you for your concern.”
“I am concerned for you, Mrs. Hampton. Upon my return from India I was expecting you to be, if not fully recovered from the tragedy, at least somewhat more distant from it. But there are still deep shadows in your eyes, if you’ll permit me to say so. I realize how much you cared for Mr. Hampton, but sometime the grieving must end.”
“Again, your distress is not warranted, Mr. Seabourne, I am all but fully recovered, I assure you.” She delicately relinquished her empty cup to the sideboard.
Seabourne could not be stopped. “A tragedy truly. And a crime, to which we have still to find a resolution. If you were to finally uncover the truth and apprehend the felons, I am certain that so much of your anxieties could be laid to rest.” He raised a gray brow. “And then perhaps your burgeoning relationship with Mr. Bellamy might be allowed to flourish, free from the constraints of the past. And of course, Charles would want it so—to see his wife taken care of by one of his most ardent benefactors.”
Lilly endeavored to look embarrassed. “Truly, sir, this conversation has become far too personal and at the expense of my guests. Now I must truly excuse myself and see to my duties as a hostess. And, as a matter of fact, I may see to having an early evening. The exertions of the preparations…you do understand.”
Seabourne set aside his plate and napkin to lightly grasp her elbow before she could move away. “Absolutely understandable, my dear, but one last question, if I might be so bold.” His voice hardened imperceptibly along with the hand on her arm.
Lilly gathered her skirts and turned to face him directly, her face smoothed of expression. “Of course. One last question and then you must promise to permit me to see to the welfare of my guests,” she repeated her true emotions masked with a forced smile.
He spoke the words flatly. “It’s about your late husband, Charles,” he paused, and this time he gave the impression that the question was not of a personal nature. “And I hope it’s not too indelicate for me to inquire whether you have chosen another architect to complete his final plans.”
“For the Crystal Palace, you mean? And not at all, your question is not an imposition,” she said evenly. “As you know, the major building has all but been completed. As for several remaining interior spaces for which very particular designs are still wanting, I have yet to make a decision…it is too painful, as you suggest. And yet I realize the urgency of the situation, what with the Koh-I-Noor.”
He examined her closely, looking for the smallest fissure in her smooth façade. Then he nodded slowly as though suddenly understanding the meaning of an hitherto indecipherable text. “Surely I of all people don’t have to tell you of the political implications of the diamond and its presentation to the queen.” He grimaced at his own understatement. “Particularly given the unrest within the Raj at the moment. Security is of the utmost importance. I’m surprised the Royal Commission has not appointed someone to the project.”
A rhetorical question, one she mercifully needn’t answer. It was understood that the Crystal Palace would hold some one hundred thousand exhibits spanning the globe and representing nearly fourteen thousand exhibitors. It was the British Empire hosting the world in a huge iron goliath with more than one million feet of glass, a building both grandiose and innovative. “With the opening and presentation but a month away, they may well be pursuing the matter,” she murmured, unthinking and incautious. Smoothly relinquishing her forearm from his grip, she looked down at the fan dangling from her wrist, choosing her next words more carefully. “I have had much else to think about these past months.” They both knew to what she was referring. “The constabulary and their insistent questioning regarding Charles’s death has been both painful and tiresome.”
“Surely, they have given up making their ridiculous accusations, my dear.”
“Let us hope so,” she said abruptly.
“I heard that Bellamy came to your aid the other evening at Covent Gardens. I can’t imagine that an inspector would have the effrontery to accost you in a public venue about a matter so indelicate. And with Bellamy as your escort.”
Lilly was silent for a moment, but her downturned gaze indicated agreement. “Yes, if it had not been for Mr. Bellamy’s astute management of the situation,” she said finally, “I’m certain the gossipmongers would have gone to town with the incident. It’s nasty enough as is. They so adore pursuing a juicy tidbit of rumor.”
Seabourne harrumphed in sympathy, angling his head toward her benevolently. “Your continuing these evenings is very brave, my dear girl, in memory of your departed husband, if nothing else. He so loved society and debate and, of course, the opportunity to demonstrate his talents in the architectural arena.”
“Indeed, he did,” she murmured. “And I thank you for your sympathetic ear, sir.” She summoned a smile. “As soon as the plans are completed, you will be the first to know. I shall apprise you instantly! And now back to my duties as hostess.” Under the pretext of summoning the servants to begin clearing the sideboard, Lilly strode confidently to the adjacent clutch of guests, her head held high.
Hours later after the last of the guests had departed, she dismissed her housekeeper for the night and delved into the cherry wood wardrobe at the back of the narrow entrance hall for a thick cashmere shawl. From the mullioned window of her front door, she could see the first delicate snowflakes begin to descend from the dark and fathomless early April sky. It was nearly spring, the weather as unpredictable as her own fate, her life no longer arranged in neat geometric patterns with lines and angles colliding tidily. A decision made on a horrific night almost one year ago had consigned her to a purgatory without end. A decision, she thought with brutal honesty, that was hers alone.
She drew herself up sharply, burying her dark thoughts. It was likely close to one in the morning but the summons had been unequivocal, if not entirely unexpected.
Isambard Kingdom Bellamy and the Koh-I-Noor diamond waited—for her. Anxiety, trepidation, guilt—there were far greater issues at stake than her ragged emotions. Perhaps she was condemned to hearing forever the ringing echoes of the gunshots on the night of Charles’s death, shots that, she thought numbly, should have been aimed at her own heart.
Chapter 3
Built painstakingly by carpenters imported from Germany, the elaborately curved staircase wound its way to the second and third levels of Waldegrave Hall. King took one step at a time, the highly polished wood beneath his feet a reminder of how far he had come. Pausing on the landing, he inhaled deeply, the scent of beeswax and the rarest teak taking him back to the marshy landscape of Bombay.
So febrile and so fertile, and so ready to disgorge its riches, the insular archipelago had begun as his own private fiefdom and swollen to an empire that could easily compete with Russia to the north and, of course, with England, that juicy, lazy fly primed for swatting by a hard and heavy hand. His hand.
He smiled at the image before continuing his ascent to the second floor. The house was quiet, all the servants abed, the hallway unspooling before him with five bedroom doors, like soldiers, arrayed on either side. He stood