The Attenbury Emeralds Read Online Free PDF Page A

invited her,” Lady Attenbury said. “Not quite our sort of person.”
    ‘“It’s not for me…”
    ‘“She is a sad case,” Lady Attenbury continued. “She was indeed a brave volunteer nurse. She encountered my nephew, William DuBerris, when he was lying horribly wounded in a field hospital, and accompanied him on a hospital train to a town behind the lines. He recovered enough to be escorted home, but before he reached England he had married her. His family refused to accept her, and disinherited him. He died a few months later in poverty, leaving his wife to bring up their daughter – little Ada, whom you might have seen playing with Ottalie. He left his wife only a few bits and pieces, and she is struggling.”
    ‘“And you don’t feel inclined to follow the family line?” I said.
    ‘“My brother deems her a fortune-hunter who took advantage of his son. But I think my nephew might genuinely have loved her. She is a handsome enough woman of some education. Isn’t it perfectly possible?”
    ‘“It might be hard to distinguish love from gratitude and dependency in that situation,” I told her. “But there is nothing criminal about gratitude.”
    ‘“In any case,” she said, “Ada is my great-niece. I am entitled to take an interest.”
    ‘“Rather hard luck when your lame ducks start pecking each other,” I said.
    ‘“She should not have spoken to you like that. I shall have a word with her and it will not happen again.”
    ‘“I wish you wouldn’t take it up with her,” I said. “Rather reinforces the idea that I can’t look after myself, don’t you think? Best left alone.”
    ‘“If you think so, Peter,” she said. “Now, I must be off with these flowers. The staff need them for the table setting.”’

3
    ‘I didn’t see Osmanthus again until I got back from my walk. The party were at play – the young at tennis and the older at croquet, and Attenbury himself was playing a round of bowls when Mr Whitehead from the bank arrived. Attenbury asked me to see to Osmanthus’s little business with the jewels, and bid him farewell. He didn’t want to break off his game.
    ‘So I galloped back into the house, and intercepted Whitehead and took him to meet Osmanthus in the library. It was dashed awkward. Whitehead was very reluctant to open the jewel case for anybody except family. Quite right, I suppose. Anyway, in the end I got Lady Attenbury to come and lend her authority to the proceedings. Whitehead got a written receipt for the jewels he was carrying, and we opened the case. The Attenbury emeralds were a parure – a complete suite of jewels. There was an ingenious setting which could be worn as a necklace with the Mughal jewel hanging from it, or inverted as a tiara with the jewel suspended in it at the centre. There was a separate clip with a pin on it, so you could wear the centre stone as a brooch if you liked. There was a bracelet and pendant earrings and three rings. They were all big emeralds, mounted in platinum with a snowstorm of tiny diamonds – quite dazzling things, in which to be honest the big square carved centrepiece looked rather sombre. Obviously the big stone could be detached from the setting, because it could be suspended either way up, depending if you were wearing it as necklace or tiara. It had not been drilled, but was mounted in a gold clip with a little loop.
    ‘Anyway, Osmanthus put down his jewel, and Lady Attenbury unhooked the one in the parure, and they were laid side by side. They were identical from the front. A swirl of leaves and a single flower had been cut into each. When they were turned over there was indeed an inscription on the Attenbury jewel, partly obscured by the mount. Osmanthus expressed regret that he could not read it all, and Lady Attenbury picked up the jewel, and unclipped it from the mount. Osmanthus took a jeweller’s loupe from his pocket and examined it carefully.
    ‘“What does it say?” I asked him.
    ‘He said,