The Queen of Diamonds Read online

  "Come in," Tony said.

  "A letter for you, sir, from your father. The messenger said it was most urgent." Pearson put the letter into Tony's hand.

  What could Roy Spadros possibly wish to write us about at this hour? Most urgent probably meant the old monster scared the boy half to death. "Make sure you give the boy something for his trouble and tell him all is well."

  Pearson nodded. "Yes, mum." He closed the door behind him.

  Tony snorted, then handed the letter to me:

  Anthony —

  Word has reached me of your mishap, and I am appalled at your reckless actions and the loss of your men. Your mishandling of this situation has cost lives and allowed this villain to make a mockery of the Spadros Family. You must allow me to take over this interrogation to learn the truth of the matter.

  I also must speak with your wife at once. I await your invitation.

  I shook my head, astonished. Whatever Tony told Roy must have been just the thing to say. I had never seen Roy beg before.

  I handed the letter back to him. "What will you do?"

  He crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it in the fire. "I don't need him to run an investigation of what has gone on in my home or my warehouses. And I certainly won't allow him to come here and mistreat you again."

  So he did know what happened. "Who told you?"

  "I suspected you hid something the day you claimed to be stung. So I searched for evidence of your story and could find none. No nests, and the staff reported that my father did not leave straight-away as you said, but questioned you for several minutes before he left. The kitchen staff told me you went to Amelia's rooms with your dress torn and your face injured.

  "I got the truth from the doctor after much trouble. When I confronted my father, his reaction corroborated it even as he cast vile accusations and excuses as to why he would strike my wife." Tony touched the side of my face. "Even your bruise held the marks of my father's hand. I realized you were terrified of him and feared harm coming to me if you told the truth." He leaned over, kissing my forehead. "That you would take such a terrible blow then hide it to protect my life — it made me see how much you loved me." He laid his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry I sent you away the night you came to me. I was in such turmoil over the things my father said —" He paused for a long moment, as if he meant to speak, then shook his head, dropping his hand to the table between us. "No. There was no excuse for my behavior."

  I took his hand, my eyes stinging, my heart heavy. "I wish I could be the wife you deserve."

  I meant it. Tony deserved so much better.

  Tony sat up straighter and leaned towards me. "Never say that! You are the wife I deserve. You're the most precious thing in my life." He took my chin and turned my face towards him. "Do you not believe in my love for you?"

  "I do." That was the problem.

  I turned away, close to tears. I had to think of something to tell him, or I feared I might confess everything. "Yet ... I always feel asked to be someone I'm not. A grand lady, a elegant Family woman ... someone respectable. The minute they think I can't hear, the whispers begin. No one's fooled by this pretense." I glanced at Tony. "I'm a Pot rag, and that's all I'll ever be."

  He gaped at me. "Who whispers about you?"

  I snorted, feeling bitter. "Everyone. Everywhere. In the shops, in the street, even at the Grand Ball. Oh, yes, they curtsy and they smile, but when they think you can't hear ..."

  Tony took my hand in his. "Oh, my love, you mustn't listen, or it'll destroy you. Do you think no one whispers about me? I'm the son of the man most hated and feared, certainly in Bridges, perhaps in this entire country. People fear me. They fear what I may be, what I may become. They whisper that I have a pleasant demeanor to hide some secret horror, that I keep a torture room as my father does —"

  I gasped at the thought of Tony torturing anyone.

  "— that I engage in acts even worse, whatever their twisted minds concoct. But I'm not my father. I refuse to become him. And I refuse to listen to them." He glanced around as if searching for something to sway me. "You must refuse to listen too."

  ***

  The next morning, a letter came:

  Master Joseph Kerr and Miss Josephine Kerr present their compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Spadros but regretfully must decline their kind invitation to dinner on the 14th of February due to serious injury.

  As I suspected. I was surprised that Joe thought such a severe break — to the thigh, of all places — might heal enough in two weeks' time to leave that contraption of his.

  The Golden Bridges — a disreputable tabloid, but often the only source of real news — ran a short but alarming article:

  TENSION BETWEEN FAMILIES?

  Our Inside Reporter relates a scene between Regina Clubb and Judith Hart at the Clubb Women's Center:

  IR: The two went into a curtained room, presumably to have luncheon. Much discussion took place, loud enough to be heard at nearby tables, although the content is not known.

  Judith Hart emerged visibly upset, and left at once. According to the maids who this reporter spoke with later on, she left her meal untouched.

  GB: What is the meaning of this spectacle?

  IR: It's too early to say, but rumor has it that the Clubb Family plans formal protest against the Harts.

  GB: Whatever for?

  IR: Trespass, spying, and property damage caused by this Red Dog street gang, which some say is inspired by the Hart Family.

  GB: A proxy Family battle? That seems too subtle for Charles Hart.

  IR: Yes, and foolhardy for him to use his Family colors on such attacks.

  We plan further investigations into the relations between Hart and Clubb.

  Bold reporting. I wondered how long it would be before threats forced the Golden Bridges to move their presses in the dead of night, as they had done so many times before.

  But then I thought of another matter. Morton — Master Blaze Rainbow — claimed to work for the Harts. After pretending to be both a Diamond Pot rag and a Red Dogs trey leader.

  Was the true Red Dog Gang's original plan to use vandalism to cause problems between the Families? Who might benefit from such tactics? I pondered this for a while without success.

  Morton said his employer — whoever that was — wished him to learn who framed the Red Dogs for murder and kidnapping. A major problem for them, because the frame-up seemed to be succeeding, although no one had come out and said it as yet.

  When I tried to contact Morton using the Hart quadrant address on his business card, I learned there was no such address. Where did Morton really live? Who did he actually work for? What was his motivation for giving me that story about Helen Hart? Whose side was he on?

  The Dinner

  "So now we are eight," I told Tony over breakfast. We sat beside our round white table, the garden shrouded in mist outside the large windows around us.

  Tony shook his head. "I feared as much, when I heard the news and saw Miss Kerr's distress." He shrugged. "No matter. Eight is an auspicious number. I'm sure the party will go well."

  "I hired a quartet for entertainment. I chose several pieces of art to play tableaux after dinner. Even with only eight, we should have enough combinations to please everyone. Plus I've ordered a red Bordeaux to go with our roasted beef."

  He smiled at me. "I'm proud of how you've progressed in this matter. You arranged everything yourself this time. The staff tells me all is ordered in sufficient amounts."

  I smiled back, feeling pleased.

  At the time, what I really wanted was to find a few moments of peace. To be happy. To feel safe. To be of help to someone, anyone. I had lived with Tony six years, and in many ways looked to him to know how to live in Bridges society. And now, Tony was proud of me, and that meant a great deal.

  ***

  I spent the rest of the week alongside Jane and the staff scrubbing, polishing, and decorating. But at last, Queen's Night was at hand, and all was in
readiness. The musicians arrived with their instruments as good smells wafted up from the kitchens.

  I went to my study, taking the name cards from my dark cherry-wood desk. Roy let me keep it even though it didn't match the gray-white trimmed in palest blue decor.

  The desk was mine, and I loved it.

  I folded each name card so that they made little tents upon my desk top. Then I brought the folded cards to the dining room.

  Candles gave the room a soft yellow glow atop the electric lights of the chandelier. The veranda was lit, giving our guests a place to take in the air after dinner if they wished.

  The musicians had set up in the breakfast room, and tuned their instruments as I went round the table placing the cards as so:

  Tony at the head of the table and I at the foot, as was the custom in Bridges. To Tony's right, I placed Dame Anastasia Louis; to his left, Gardena Diamond. Next to Anastasia, Major Blackwood, then Kitty Clubb would sit next to me. On my right would be Jonathan Diamond, then Lance Clubb would sit next to Gardena. Being eight made for an awkward table, two men and two women sitting beside each other, but there was no help for it. I was to have Joe beside me, and Josie between Jonathan and Lance, which would have made a perfect scene.

  Rosemary and holly sprigs graced the center, gathered around short fat beeswax candles. The tablecloth was white damask; the plates, silverware, and crystal, our best.

  Tony came round the corner. "Ah, there you are!" He held a bouquet of roses such a dark red as to be almost black: the roses of Spadros. He handed them to me.

  "For me? I'm no matriarch." The eldest mother of the family received flowers on Queen's Day, not a young childless wife.

  Tony cupped my face in his hands. "In this house, you're all I see." He kissed my lips, lingering, then touched his forehead to mine, the scent of roses filling the air. "We'll soon have children, never fear."

  This felt odd. "What of your mother? Is she well?"

  "My father will tend to her. I believe he will become the most pleasant of husbands."

  This was mystifying, to be sure. Roy Spadros was a violent, brutal, sadistic man, who caused injury to Tony's mother as often as he could. What changed?

  Tony put his arms around my waist. "I never thought when I first saw you that we would be speaking such things."

  "Well, we were only twelve years old."

  "But you were such a wild thing, cursing and shouting like a zeppelin pilot. Frankly, you frightened me." He paused, gazing to one side as he smiled to himself. Then his shoulders straightened. "But your passionate defiance of my father at every turn made me see I could be bold as well. Become separate from his dominance."

  Tony relied on me? Used me as his guide, his inspiration? It felt humbling.

  He caressed my cheek, slid his hand behind my neck. "I love you so much." Then he gave me a peck on my lips and chuckled. "I suppose I should see who I'm hosting for dinner."

  I giggled, rubbing my hands together, wishing everyone would arrive soon so they might see the scene I created.

  Tony ambled around the table surveying the names, then stopped, his face going white. "What's this?"

  I laid the flowers on the sideboard. "What's wrong?"

  "How could you invite Gardena Diamond?"

  "Tony, she's here all the time. She and Jonathan call at least once a month. They were here just a few weeks ago. You spoke with them." He stood motionless, staring. I moved towards Tony, becoming concerned for his health. "You don't remember?"

  Tony didn't speak for several seconds as the color returned to his face. When he next spoke, he sounded furious. "This is different. Inviting the Diamonds for dinner is completely different from them calling on us. Did Julius Diamond approve this?"

  Julius Diamond was Jon and Gardena's father. He hated Tony so much that he wouldn't even shake my husband's hand. "I assume so. They accepted our invitation. Why? What's wrong?"

  Tony said nothing.

  "Jon's our friend. You spent much of the Grand Ball sitting with him in front of half the city. Why shouldn't we invite them?"

  "You don't understand anything! Having them here for dinner? It just can't be." He paused. "We've never invited them here. A formal invitation sends a message to the whole city. Did you clear this with my father?"

  "I never thought I needed to." Was that why Roy wrote us? I began to feel afraid of what I might have done. And worse yet, that I didn't understand why. "What message? Was I wrong to invite the Clubbs?"

  "No," Tony said. "That's different."

  "Why is it different? I want to understand why you're so upset."

  "We're not at war with the Clubbs. We are at war with the Diamonds. We've been at war with the Diamonds since ... for ten years now —"

  I wondered at that. "Aren't we at peace? I thought the war only lasted a year —"

  "We're only at cease-fire. There's never been an alliance between their Family and ours from the time of the Coup. The whole city will wonder: is this a prelude to peace? Are these younger Diamonds emissaries?

  "If anything — anything! — should happen to Jon and Gardena while they're in Spadros quadrant, so much as a hair on their heads harmed, the cease-fire could be broken. And we're not ready." Tony turned away, his hand to his forehead. "We're nowhere near ready. My father will be furious."

  "Should I cancel the dinner?"

  Tony shook his head. "It's much too late for that now." He stared at Gardena's place at the table. The color drained from his face, and he almost sounded afraid. "I will not sit beside Gardena Diamond tonight. I — I can't. You must move her at once."

  What the hell was wrong with him? "Well, I wanted her to sit beside Lance Clubb. But if it'll make things better, I can switch her with Kitty." I paused, and took a breath. The fault was mine; neither anger nor sarcasm would solve this. "Dame Anastasia may take offense if I seat her away from the host."

  Tony gave a weak smile. "That she might." He looked as if he might be sick. "I must contact my father."

  As he left, I took a deep breath and let it out. This was not going as I expected.

  As I switched the name cards, I realized the musicians witnessed all this. At my glance, they began fiddling with their papers as if they heard nothing.

  I almost laughed.

  The doorbell rang, and I heard Pearson open it. I hurried past the quartet, slowing to a walk as the door came into view.

  Kitty and Lance Clubb were blond with blue eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across their noses. Their hair was heavy and straight with a golden hue. Kitty's gown was dandelion gold, while Lance's suit was saffron, with a cream-white cravat.

  Lance Clubb seemed younger than I, even though he was a year my elder. But he won the approval of Gardena Diamond's father Julius, and I planned to introduce them tonight.

  Kitty, a rather plain woman, was two years older than Lance and lacked his shy demeanor: she strode up to me at once.

  I held out my hand to her. "What a pleasure to see you both!"

  Kitty was unmarried, yet older. Should I curtsy to her, or she to me? Fortunately, Kitty solved the problem by curtsying to me.

  Lance kissed my hand. "I hope Mr. Spadros is well?"

  Music wafted into the room. I felt relieved that the musicians had finally begun to play. "Mr. Spadros is quite well; a matter arose which needed his attention. He'll be here shortly. Come, I've arranged rooms for your refreshment."

  Pearson brought Lance to Tony's study, while I brought Kitty to mine. Attendants waited to help them with their coats and hats, and mirrors were set up. A screen was placed inside each door to prevent guests from being displayed to those in the hallway.

  The doorbell rang. Major Blackwood was a round, vigorous old man, brown of skin and white of hair. As always, in uniform, several small badges of rank on his left chest. "Splendid to see you again, my dear," he said, bowing deeply. "Always a pleasure."

  Major Blackwood was well known on the party circuit but had never visited Spadros Manor. He was n
either of the aristocracy nor aligned with any Family. But he helped me two weeks ago, and this invitation was his reward.

  Tony walked up just then, looking much improved. "Major Blackwood!" They shook hands. "Welcome. It's so good to see you. Pearson, would you show the Major to the dressing room?"

  "Certainly, sir."

  Tony turned to me. "Who's here so far?"

  "Lance and Kitty." I hesitated. "I hope you're well?"

  Tony nodded. "I never imagined my father would leave the situation with the Diamonds out of your training."

  I shrugged. Roy Spadros had neglected more than that. I had no idea how the illegal drug Party Time — a major source of our income — was even made until Tony tried to explain it to me a few weeks ago. "Who knows why your father does what he does?" I patted his arm. "I'm sorry I made such a mess of things."

  Tony kissed my forehead. "We'll have to muddle through."

  Pearson walked past us just as the doorbell rang.

  With a sleek bouffant of white-blonde hair, an erect carriage, and gray eyes, Dame Anastasia Louis swept in, bedecked with jewels, furs trailing behind her. She was well past seventy, with a heritage running back to the kings of England, pre-Catastrophe. But age had only improved her, giving her a stature that made younger women look like foolish girls beside her.

  "My dear friends." She gave her hand to Tony to kiss, and I curtsied when she took mine. "I'm so glad to see you."

  "And I you," said Tony. "I hear your business is doing well."

  "I could say the same."

  Tony laughed. "That you could."

  The casino brought in over $3000 this past quarter. The shipments of Party Time we distributed were lucrative as well. This in a city where a penny could get you many things. I had never even seen a dollar before I was sold to the Spadros Family.

  Dame Anastasia was rich, beautiful, and fond of us. Plus, she was our next door neighbor (although she lived a mile away). I took her arm. "Let me show you to the dressing room."

  "I've missed seeing you," she said, as we strolled down the hall. "It's been weeks since you've visited. I hope all is well?"

  "Yes, very," I said. "I apologize for not calling; we've been quite busy. Did you know Mr. Spadros is renovating the casino?"