The Queen of Diamonds Read online

  Tony smiled. "You're welcome to choose any from the stables you like. Keep it as long as you need."

  Josie's face filled with gratitude. "Thank you so much, sir. You have no idea how much it will help."

  "It's no trouble at all," Tony said. "Lady Luck has blessed the Spadros Family. I'm happy to help you."

  Josie's eyes lowered. She smiled, blushing. "May I speak on another matter?"

  "Why, of course," I said.

  "Joe would be most obliged if you visited him," Josie said to Tony. "He's been bound to his bed a week now, and is starved for company." Her shoulders drooped as she glanced aside. "Many of his friends no longer visit."

  I turned to Tony. "Might we go tomorrow after luncheon?"

  Tony shook his head. "I have a meeting tomorrow. But you can go, if you feel well enough."

  Pearson told me Tony had a meeting tomorrow, which was why I suggested it. "I'll take the unmarked carriage." This plain brown carriage resembled a taxi, if you ignored the black horses and silver tackle of the Spadros Family. By using this carriage, we might visit other quadrants without attracting undue notice.

  Tony nodded. "Good idea. It'll be safer that way."

  Always his concern was for my safety. Tony meant well, but his idea of "safety" often felt like life in a cage.

  Josie stirred at Tony's remark. "Have you had trouble?"

  Tony put his fork down and leaned back in his chair. The room Crab and Duck died in was still being cleaned from the ordeal. "You might say that."

  My best friend Air, murdered in front of me the night I was sold to the Spadros Family ten years ago, had two brothers. Frank Pagliacci kidnapped twelve year old David Bryce (Air's youngest brother) a month ago, framing the Red Dogs street gang for it. David's seventeen-year-old brother Herbert and a fifteen-year-old Red Dogs member named Stephen Rivers tried to find David. The police found them strangled; I felt certain Pagliacci killed them.

  Two of Tony's men were killed and two others kidnapped by Pagliacci's men. Then they attacked Tony in his own warehouse. Frank Pagliacci released the kidnapped men after blackmailing them into spying on us. Pagliacci claimed he did all this to capture me then lure the rest of the Spadros Family to their deaths. But I believed this was a ruse to cover up his real intent.

  The two spies were dead: Duck, of infection after Tony shot him; the other, Crab, died at his own hand. David Bryce, now home safe, had so far refused to speak, his mind having reverted, it seemed, to that of a babe. I shot Frank Pagliacci, but I was no closer to bringing Frank's mad accomplice Jack Diamond to justice than I was a week ago.

  I gazed at Tony. They tried to destroy us. Yet we survived it. Feeling a surge of fondness, I kissed Tony's hand and turned to Josie. "We have had some trials, yes, quite serious ones, but they've brought us closer together." And they had. For the first time, I felt as if Tony valued me as more than just a woman, but something closer to an equal.

  Tony let out a breath, color rising in his cheeks, his gaze part incredulity and part hope.

  Sadness washed over me. Somehow, he knew that I held my heart from him these three years of our marriage.

  Josie gaped at us.

  And I felt ashamed.

  Her brother Joe and I promised ourselves to each other before I was kidnapped and brought here. Everything in his actions indicated he had lost interest in me. But what might her dreams have been?

  I dropped Tony's hand. "I forget my manners sometimes."

  Josie smiled. "I'm glad to see you happy."

  I let out a breath. Yes. In spite of my worry for Joe, my grief over David's ruin, my fears for the future ... yes, I was happy.

  The Regrets

  After luncheon, Tony and I went with Josie to select her horse. Josie didn't seem to care which one she took, but once she had pointed at one of our black stallions, Tony hurried to have our stable-man Peter prepare it.

  Once Tony was out of view, I said, "How's Marja?"

  Marja was the Kerr's housekeeper, and the mother of our mutual friend Ottilie, who was now dead.

  I brought our friends Ottilie, Treysa, and Poignee from the Pot to work here as kitchen maids. They said something to Tony after Inventor Call took me to see the Magma Steam Generator last month. I never learned what they said, but it offended Tony so much he had them killed.

  Josie shrugged wearily. "As well as can be expected."

  "I'm sorry you had to come here."

  "I must do what I need to," Josie said. "I'm not above begging for anything that will help my family prosper. Even from him."

  My vision blurred. She's suffered so much. How can she bear it? I hugged her, but she didn’t hug me back.

  After Josie and her driver left with the horse, I told Pearson cleaning could resume. He went to collect the staff.

  I climbed the stairs to that room above the parlor where Crab and Duck died. Poor Josie, caring for her brother in addition to grieving our friends and managing her grandfather's business. No wonder the strain took its toll on her.

  Josie's grandfather forbade her to marry so she might take care of his affairs. Yet he was, to all accounts, perfectly well. It seemed unfair to deny such a beautiful and talented woman as Josephine Kerr the chance at a home and a future. She sounded happy when we discussed the matter last month, but I wondered if she was beginning to regret agreeing to it.

  A week had passed since Crab and Duck died. The rugs had been removed and the tiles pried up. The wall where Crab's blood lay after he shot himself had been scraped, scrubbed, and patched.

  My day footman Skip Honor came in wearing work clothes; Peter Dewey, our stable-man, followed behind. I nodded at them. "You've done good work."

  Peter ignored me. Honor said, "Thank you, mum."

  Amelia's husband Peter hadn't so much as looked at me since my mistake with Thrace Pike last month. Roy Spadros tortured Amelia to learn what happened, and Peter never forgave me for it.

  Pearson came in. "Jane's ready for our meeting."

  I followed him downstairs and through the house. We went through the dining room then down to the kitchens. A small table and three straight-backed chairs were set up for the meeting. A large pot bubbled on the stove; good smells filled the air.

  A maid cried in Jane's arms, flinching when she saw me. The maid curtsied. "My apologies, mum," she said, then rushed away.

  I hung back by the doorway. "I'm sorry to intrude."

  Jane was a stout middle-aged woman whose straight blonde hair mixed with gray. She shook her head, frowning. "The girl mourns Duck's death." The way she said it ....

  Ah. The poor girl fancied him.

  Duck and his lover Crab betrayed the Family by spying on us for Frank Pagliacci, but ... "We all wish events passed differently."

  Jane nodded. "Shall we sit, mum?"

  Pearson held my chair, then his wife's, then sat between us.

  Jane took a small notebook from her apron pocket. "We need another barrel of baking soda. We've used up almost all of the one we have in order to absorb the smell upstairs. The gravel-man will be here next week to re-do the courtyard. The storms washed quite a bit away out by the street."

  "See to it." I turned to Pearson. "How are the staff?"

  "About Crab?" Pearson let out a breath. "We've never had such a thing happen here."

  I felt much the same way, and I hardly knew the man. "What can we do to help?"

  Pearson shrugged. "I'll ask. Time heals most wounds, as they say. But perhaps something for them?"

  "That's a good idea. An outing, perhaps?"

  Jane smiled. "That would be good, mum."

  "I'll speak to Mr. Anthony about it." Then I came to what I wanted to say. "I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to speak of this. I must apologize for the burden I put on you by bringing Pot rags to your kitchens. It was unfair to expect you to train them, and I regret all that happened."

  Jane became very still, staring at the table, face red. "It's kind of you, mum, but there's no need to apologize to th
e likes of me."

  "There is need. I'd like for you to choose your replacement."

  She shook her head slightly, head bowed, lashes moist, nose reddening. "Has my performance distressed you, mum?"

  Oh, dear. "No! Not at all! I'm most pleased with your work. There's better work for you to do here. You perform the tasks of a housekeeper plus your own, and since we lack one ..."

  Jane's head jerked upright, her eyes wide. "Me? Upstairs, running the house?"

  "I can't think of anyone better."

  Jane looked to Pearson, joy in her face. "Oh, John, can you believe it?"

  Pearson put his hand on hers then turned to me. "We're most grateful, mum."

  "As am I." I smiled at the fond glance which passed between them, then rose. "You have until the outing to choose your replacement. Please inform me when you've decided."

  They both rose hastily. "Yes, mum," Jane said, and curtsied. "Thank you, mum."

  I took their hands. No one else was in the kitchen, but I spoke softly. "I'm also grateful to you. I've been here since I was twelve. And you're near thrice my age. It feels strange for you to call me mum, especially ..." I felt at a loss for words, "me being a Pot rag and all."

  "You must never say such things," Jane whispered fiercely. "Never. You're Mrs. Spadros now. Forget all else."

  Something in her voice made me shudder: to this day I don't know why.

  ***

  That evening after dinner, I took to my room and lay in bed. Even though my health had improved, I still tired easily. Tony leaned against the pale blue cushion at the head of the bed as we held hands in the golden lamplight.

  I thought back to our luncheon with Josie, Tony's reaction to my comment, the things he had said and done.

  Tony truly loved me.

  A month earlier, I couldn't have said the same. But the way he stood up to his sadistic, brutal father swayed me. I felt proud of how he had grown as a person. Was this love? I had no idea.

  I gazed past Tony to the pictures on the wall. Landscapes of places I had never been, portraits of strangers, all in pale grayish-white frames. My least favorite color for many reasons, not that anyone cared what I thought. But one picture looked familiar. "Who's that man?"

  "What man?"

  I pointed to the portrait of a pale, black haired man with a sober face and blue eyes. He resembled Tony and Roy, so I assumed he was some relative.

  "That's my grandfather, Acevedo Spadros II. My mother says he was the most loving, generous man in the world." He paused. "He died when I was two. I have no memory of him."

  A week ago, our private surgeon Dr. Salmon told me of the affair Acevedo Spadros II had with Tony's mother Molly, and of Acevedo's murder by his own men.

  Tony said, "Why do you ask?"

  Then I remembered who the man reminded me of. "I saw the most beautiful child a few weeks ago. He looked very much like your grandfather. Well, if your grandfather had dark brown skin and curly hair."

  "Oh?"

  I rolled to face him, and raised myself on an elbow. The lamplight glared in my eyes, leaving Tony's face in shadow. "You should've seen him. He was exquisite: the sweetest black ringlet curls, dark eyes, and a lovely smile." I lay back on the bed, facing the ceiling. "He was about four. His little ball rolled past while I walked, and I fetched it for him. He said, "thank you" with this tiny high voice ... he was the most adorable child I've ever seen."

  Then I felt melancholy. That could have been our son.

  Give him lighter skin, straighter hair ... but I could picture Tony and I having a child very much like him.

  I secretly took a special "morning" tea to keep from bearing Tony a child. My monthly flow began the day Crab shot himself. After everything that happened in my life — kidnapped, forced to marry, unable to see my mother — I wanted some choice in when I would have a child. But now ... I began to regret it.

  Tony took my hand. "We'll have children one day. The doctor says it can take time, especially with the first." He paused. "I read about new locking mechanisms for carriages. They lock from the outside, so children don't fall out. I told Pearson to have all the carriages fitted with them."

  I stared at the ceiling, wanting to weep. Did Tony feel at fault for his lack of an heir?

  I put his hand on my cheek and closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand, willing back tears. Tony would be a good father. Why am I denying him the chance to have a son? It no longer made sense to me.

  I would visit Joseph Kerr tomorrow. If he didn't speak of how he felt I would ask, as inappropriate as it might seem. I would know for certain one way or the other. If Joe no longer held feelings for me, I would stop taking my morning tea and let the cards be dealt as they were.

  The Memories

  Tony said, "Was the child alone? The little boy?"

  I opened my eyes and sat up, turning towards him. "Oh, no, not at all. He had a young nanny with him, a girl of maybe eighteen. She said her name was ... oh, yes, Octavia Diamond. She had skin a bit lighter than mine, and long blond curly hair! She looked nothing like a Diamond. I almost didn't believe her."

  Tony gave a short laugh. "Probably a distant cousin, perhaps one 'under the table'. I have cousins that look more like Diamonds than some Diamonds do."

  I thought of our Inventor, Maxim Call: wiry and brown, with those piercing blue Spadros eyes.

  "She said they were from the country, so you're probably right. The boy, now he looked a Diamond, to be sure." I pictured his little face. "He looked very much like Jon and Jack, now that I think of it. His name was Roland."

  Jonathan Diamond was my best friend. His decidedly unwell brother Jack, who threatened my life every time he got the chance, was Jon's identical twin. I peered at Tony, squinting at the lamplight's glare. "Jack's middle name is Roland, isn't it? Could the child be his son?"

  Tony snorted. "Hardly. I don't think Jack Diamond has much regard for women, not in that way. And Roland is a very common name among the Diamonds."

  "Yes, I suppose it must be. It's astonishing how much the boy resembles them, now that I think of it. But I suppose he could belong to one of their older brothers, or a cousin." I sat up next to him. "He must be an upper; the girl called him 'Master Roland.' I don't recall anyone using those terms to speak to a child until I came here." It was a puzzle, and I enjoyed such things. "Yes, Octavia must be a distant cousin; she and the boy didn't look much alike. She was pretty, though, and the boy seemed happy."

  "Happy," Tony said. He sounded wistful, and I recalled his lonely childhood, forbidden all playmates but one after his older brother's assassination. "Was the boy well cared-for?"

  "Oh, yes, the nanny seemed quite attentive. I loved the way he skipped after her as they went. They were going to see if a calf had been born yet, if I remember correctly."

  Tony leaned back, closing his eyes with a deep sigh. I rested my head on his shoulder, remembering myself at that age, back home in the Pot. How happy I felt, playing in the ruins of old Bridges with my best friend Air and my Ma.

  I would give anything to see them again.

  Tony put his arm around me and held me until I fell asleep.

  Blood dripped down the walls as I went up the stair, one step at a time. My friend Air, still looking as he did when he died ten years ago, his seventeen-year-old brother Herbert, and fifteen-year-old Stephen lay moaning and twitching on the steps, their wounds horrible to behold.

  I held something in my arms that grew heavier with every step. I looked down: Joe gazed up at me.

  The room was hot. When I glanced behind me, Jack Diamond, head shaved and dressed in white, crept up the stairs on all fours. Even though the stairwell was awash with blood, his clothes and hands were spotless. He drew closer behind me, and my terror grew as I tried to flee. I moved so slowly ...

  Jack Diamond grabbed my ankle. "I have you now."

  I shrieked and came awake, tangled in the covers.

  "Jacqui?" Tony sat up, sounding more sleepy than alarmed.


  Our night footman Blitz Spadros rushed in, candle in hand, his face glowing orange in the candlelight. "Are you well, mum?"

  My heart pounded; I felt bathed in sweat. "A dream." Tears of humiliation filled my eyes. "I'm sorry."

  Tony flopped backwards onto the pillows. "I hoped maybe — maybe they were gone. You didn't have any for a whole week." He smoothed my hair, kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry."

  Blitz gave us a small smile. "I'll leave you then." He closed the door behind him.

  I clung to Tony and began to cough, to cry. "I thought maybe they were gone too." That one was bizarre, so unlike the others, which had up to now mostly been memories.

  "You think the doctor has something to help you sleep?"

  I shook my head in the darkness, discouraged. This had been my life for the past ten years. "I don't know."

  I never returned to sleep after my nightmare. All I could think of was that I would see Joe again. Yet horrible visions of how his injuries might appear ran through my mind.

  It felt like forever before I left home to visit the Kerrs.

  The Kerrs lived in Hart quadrant, which was in the northwest part of the city. To get there, we drove past the slums and the Spadros section of the Pot (hidden safely from view by wrought iron and tall hedge) onto Market Center, an island in the center of Bridges. We then drove around the Plaza, over the bridge, and onto the close-laid red brick streets of Hart quadrant, where Joseph and Josephine Kerr lived with their grandfather.

  The day was overcast and chill, and the air smelled of wood smoke. When my carriage arrived at the Kerr's home, my day footman Skip Honor helped me to the sidewalk. And I thanked him, as I always do. It was considered unseemly for uppers to acknowledge the servants in any way, but I didn't care. I treated them as people, even though ten years ago they despised me as much as anyone else for being a Pot rag.

  No one met me out front, so I went up the brown stone steps and knocked on the wooden door. Marja, a middle aged woman with brown hair, opened the door, tears rising in her eyes when she saw me. "My little J-Bird," she said, hugging me tightly.