Miracle For a Madonna Page 2

  She gave a cry.

  “Now what can I do? Arthur will not just be angry with me, he will be outraged! How can I ever explain that Antonio took it from my bedroom?”

  Taking her fingers from her brother’s hand she cried,

  “Oh, Ingram, Ingram, help me! Save me! If Arthur ever finds out what has happened, he will kill me!”

  “Then he must not find out,” Lord Mere said, “and the first thing is to ask the Prince for an explanation as to what happened last night.”

  “Do you suppose I have not thought of that?” Jennie asked. “I called at the Italian Embassy where he is staying half-an-hour ago. I know it was indiscreet, but I was so desperate that I felt I must get in touch with him immediately.”

  “What happened?”

  He thought he knew the answer already.

  “The servants informed me,” Jennie replied, “that Prince Antonio di Sogino had left for Italy at eight o’clock this morning!”

  Her voice broke on the last words and she put both her hands up to her eyes to hide her tears.

  Lord Mere sat very still.

  Then after a moment he said,

  “Don’t cry, Jennie. I will find a way out of this mess, as long as you swear to me on the Bible that there is no possible chance that anyone else could have taken the necklace. For instance, you don’t suppose a burglar could have got inside your bedroom after the Prince had left?”

  “Not unless he had wings to climb in through the window,” Jennie replied. “I saw Antonio out myself through the garden door and before we went down the side staircase, you know the one I mean, I locked my bedroom door and took the key with me.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “I don’t know why, except that I was afraid that by some mischance my maid would come to me before I had had time to tidy away my clothes, which were just thrown on the floor and, of course, the – bed.” Jennie blushed again and looked down at the table. “So you see, nobody could have come into the room because I had the key in my hand and, after I had let Antonio out into the garden, I went back, unlocked my door, tidied away my clothes and made quite certain that everything was in its place before I went to sleep.”

  “But how could he have taken the necklace without your being aware of it?”

  “When he woke me saying that he was leaving, and I realised how late it was, he was already dressed.”

  “I see,” Lord Mere said. “So while you were sleeping he could easily have put the necklace in his pocket without your being aware of it.”

  “Of course and I did not think about my necklace until Rose opened the box before putting it in the safe.”

  Again Jennie gave a cry.

  “Oh, Ingram, suppose I had thought it was safely there and, when Arthur perhaps in two weeks’ time and asked me to wear it, I had then found the box empty.”

  “I expect that is what the Prince was hoping would happen and it is, therefore, his misfortune that you discovered the loss so quickly.”

  “The necklace is not there! So what can I do?” Jennie pleaded. “You know how pleased Arthur was to give me anything so unusual and I know it was very very expensive.”

  “I am sure it was.”

  “How can I say that it was a burglar when nothing else is missing?”

  She paused and her brother asked sharply,

  “That is true? You have checked and nothing else has gone?”

  “No, nothing,” Jennie said. “My diamond bracelet, my ring, my earrings, they were all there on the dressing table.”

  “Just the necklace!” Lord Mere said reflectively.

  “Just the necklace!” Jennie agreed. “The necklace that Arthur will never forget. Oh, Ingram, think of the scandal if he divorces me and, even if he does not do so, I know he will never, never speak to me again he will feel so affronted.”

  Now the tears were running down her cheeks and she was unable to control them.

  Lord Mere rose to his feet.

  “There is only one thing I can do.”

  “What is that?” she asked miserably.

  “Go to Florence and find out exactly what has happened. If that damned Italian has stolen your necklace, I will steal it back from him or make him return it by one means or another.”

  “Oh, Ingram, will you really do that?”

  Jennie jumped up from her chair and flung her arms round her brother’s neck.

  “Only you can save me! Oh, dear, dear Ingram, you are so clever! If anybody in the world could retrieve my necklace it would be you!”

  Lord Mere kissed her cheek.

  Then he said,

  “Now listen, Jennie, I suppose you can trust your maid?”

  “Rose adores me, as she always has. She has been with me for ten years.”

  “Very well, swear her to secrecy.”

  “I have done that already. She knows how angry Arthur would be if he discovered its loss. She would do anything to help me.”

  “Very well, that is one good point in our favour,” her brother said. “When Arthur returns, you must not let him suspect for a moment that you are worried about anything or that you are frightened of what he might find out.”

  There was a frown between his eyes as he concentrated on what he was thinking.

  Then he said,

  “Husbands and wives have an instinct about each other that is almost like thought-reading. Whatever you do, you must not let Arthur read your thoughts.”

  Jennie gave a little scream of horror.

  “No – of course – not!”

  “Very well then,” Lord Mere said, “just be like any loving wife would be, thrilled and delighted that her husband has returned safe and sound from Paris and who has been lost and lonely without him.”

  He paused and then he added,

  “All women can act if they want to and if you value your reputation and your good name, Jennie, you will have to act as you never had to before!”

  “I will try – I really will – but it is going to be – difficult as I am so worried!”

  “Forget your worries and, if the worst comes to the worst, we may have to force open the safe ourselves and declare that somebody has got into the house unawares and taken your jewels in such a clever way that the Police will have no idea who it could be!”

  “The – Police!” Jennie faltered.

  She went very pale and her brother said hastily,

  “We would only call them in as a last resort. It would cause complications because you would not wish to say that the last time you wore it was with the Prince. You would have to pretend that you wore it on a subsequent occasion or a big party.”

  “Oh, Ingram, could we ever get away with it?” Jennie asked. “You know that necklace is so fantastic that, whenever I do go anywhere in it, everybody says it’s the most beautiful thing they have ever seen!”

  “I know that,” Lord Mere said irritably. “At the same time we have to have an alternative story if I do not succeed in getting it back for you.”

  “But you must succeed, you will!” Jennie said. “I know how clever you have been in the past, although you never talk about the things you do. But my friend Eileen, whose husband works at the Foreign Office, told me how much they all admire you and trust you to perform miracles when the Ambassadors have failed.”

  “Your friend should not be so indiscreet!” her brother remarked sharply.

  “But it’s true and that is why, darling wonderful Ingram, you will succeed in saving me now. And I am far more important than any of the Kings and Queens you have helped in the past.”

  “I doubt if they would think so!” Lord Mere retorted. “But, of course, I will do my very best, Jennie, and while I have to leave for Florence, you will just have to pray for my success.”

  “I will pray and pray!” Jennie promised, “And if you do bring it back I will give St. Anthony, or whoever is the Saint of Stolen Goods, an enormous thank offering I cannot afford!”

  Lord Mere laughed.

&nb
sp; “We shall certainly need the Saints on our side,” he said, “because, if the Prince has indeed stolen your necklace, there must be a very good reason for it, which I am quite certain he will not admit except under extreme pressure.”

  *

  When his sister had left after thanking him profusely and telling him that her whole future happiness depended on him. Lord Mere sent for his secretary.

  He told Mr. Barrington to make arrangements for his journey and cancel all the appointments that he had made for the next few days.

  Then he went upstairs to his bedroom to see his valet.

  As he pulled open the drawer of his chest, he found himself thinking of the words he had used to his sister ‘except under extreme pressure’ and took a small revolver from its case.

  It was one he had had specially made and was smaller than the more usual type. It was also so new that only a few other people owned one.

  He laid it ready to be included in his suitcase together with a supply of the bullets that fitted it.

  He then searched further into the drawer and found a sharp dagger not unlike a stiletto, which had a case over its shining point and which could be inserted at his waist or even if necessary in the top of a stocking or sock.

  He reflected on how he had found it extremely useful and certainly protective on other occasions.

  He hoped, however, that it would not be necessary to use his weapons, although he had the feeling that he was setting out on another daring adventure and Heaven knew what he might expect or find when he reached Florence.

  His secretary made arrangements for him to catch the boat train that left at noon.

  It was short notice, but Mr. Barrington was used to moving quickly where his Master was concerned.

  Lord Mere knew that in some magical way a reserved carriage on the train to Dover would be at his disposal, the best cabin on the ferry would be allotted to him and a Courier, whom he would not see during

  the journey but who would travel with him, would engage a coupe for him on the Express train to Florence.

  He, however, was anxious to leave Mere House rather earlier than was necessary to catch his train at Victoria Station.

  His London carriage drawn by two superb horses drove him swiftly to the Foreign Office where he asked to see the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.

  He was ushered at once into the Earl of Roseberry’s office who was obviously delighted to see him.

  “My dear Mere,” he said, “this is a surprise! You do not usually condescend to visit me. It is I who send you pleading messages begging your company!”

  “I think you are being sarcastic, my Lord, and I need your help.”

  “My help?” the Foreign Secretary exclaimed. “That is certainly a change, as invariably I am asking for yours!”

  “I agree and, as we are now on opposite sides of the table, I hope you will not fail me.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Tell me what you know about Prince Antonio di Sogino.”

  The Foreign Secretary looked surprised.

  “Is that all?”

  “For the moment!”

  “I am interested to learn why you wish to know this.”

  “That, if you will forgive me, is my business,” Lord Mere said. “All I want is information.”

  The Earl rang a bell and when a man appeared he said,

  “Bring me the Florentine file.”

  It took only a few minutes to bring in a large file, which was set down in front of the Foreign Secretary.

  He opened it and turned over a number of pages until he found what he sought.

  Then he said,

  “The Soginos, as I expect you know, are one of the most important families in Florence, and the Prince, who is Head of the Family, can trace his ancestry back to the eleventh century, and never allows one to forget it!”

  Lord Mere smiled, but he did not interrupt and the Earl continued,

  “I have a report here, which will not interest you, of a feud which has been taking place for years, one might almost say centuries, between the Soginos and their bitter enemies the Gorizias.”

  He turned over a few more pages.

  Then he said,

  “In recent times the Soginos have become extremely hard up and have been forced to sell some of their land on the outskirts of Florence. This has bitterly upset the Prince and for some reason that I cannot ascertain has intensified the feud between him and the Gorizias.”

  It was such a typical story of great Italian families that Lord Mere thought it might have come out of some novelette. It did not appear to him to be of any significance with the exception of the fact that the Soginos were hard up.

  That too was not unusual, but he asked,

  “Do you know the eldest son, Prince Antonio?”

  “Yes, I have met him at several parties and I am also aware that whenever he is in London, Paris or any other capital City, he leaves a trail of broken hearts behind him.”

  “He is married?” Lord Mere enquired.

  “He was married, of course, when he was young. It was an arranged marriage, but I am not certain whether or not his wife is still alive. There appears to be no record of her death, but that is not to say that it has not happened.”

  The Earl of Roseberry sat back in his chair and asked,

  “Tell me, Mere, why you are interested.”

  Lord Mere smiled and the Earl ejaculated,

  “Damn you for being so secretive! But, if you are investigating di Sogino on your own account, you might also do a little work for me.”

  Lord Mere looked at the Foreign Secretary speculatively and he explained,

  “I have a feeling that di Sogino and his family are somehow engaged in subversive activities against the Italian Monarchy. I may be wrong, but there are one or two things I have heard that don’t add up but have remained in my mind like an unfinished symphony.”

  Lord Mere rose to his feet.

  “Thank you for what you have told me and you know if I can be of assistance in any way, I will do my best.”

  “That is all I ask,” the Earl replied, “and, as you well know, your best is always a great deal better than anybody else’s.”

  Lord Mere laughed.

  “You flatter me!”

  “I am merely preparing you for the Italian ‘Blarney’, which can be as persuasive as that of the Irish and is far more dangerous than what the English call ‘plain speaking’.”

  He shook Lord Mere by the hand and said,

  “Take care of yourself. You know you are very valuable to us and we cannot afford to lose you.”

  “I have the unmistakable feeling that there is a hidden innuendo behind every word you are saying to me.”

  Both men laughed as they walked towards the door.

  As they reached it, the Earl put his hand on Lord Mere’s shoulder and said,

  “I feel I should give you the warning that I give to every man I send to Italy, beware of eloquent dark eyes and a stiletto!”

  Lord Mere laughed again.

  “I promise I will keep that in mind.”

  He was smiling as he walked quickly down the corridors of the Foreign Office to where his carriage was waiting for him outside.

  Chapter Two

  Lord Mere arrived in Florence and drove immediately to a villa on the outskirts of the City that belonged to a friend of his.

  He had sent a telegram announcing his arrival and Sir Julius Cazenove was waiting for him with outstretched hands.

  An elderly man, he had retired to live in Florence three years before and, as he was unmarried, he was in consequence often lonely for his English friends.

  “My dear Ingram!” he exclaimed. “I cannot imagine anybody I would rather see at this moment than you!”

  “It is very good of you to have me,” Lord Mere replied, “and at such short notice.”

  “Have I ever known you to give anything else?” Sir Julius smiled. “Do sit down, I have opened a bott
le of very special wine that I think you will enjoy.”

  A footman poured the wine into two glasses and, after Lord Mere had taken a sip, he said,

  “This is very good, which is, of course, only what I might expect in your house.”

  “Now tell me why you are here,” Sir Julius said, “or is it a secret?”

  Lord Mere raised his eyebrows.

  “A secret?” he questioned.

  “Oh, don’t pretend with me, Ingram!” Sir Julius exclaimed. “I know quite well how valuable you are to my successors in the Diplomatic world and especially to the Foreign Office!”

  He laughed before he went on,

  “I also know that you have an eye for a pretty face, but I cannot believe there are not plenty of those in London to interest you and Florence is a tiresome long journey.”

  “I see you have it all worked out,” Lord Mere said, “so I will agree that I have reasons for coming here, but I do not want to talk about them at present.”

  “That is disappointing,” Sir Julius replied, “but doubtless because here even the flowers have ears, I shall hear about it sooner or later.”

  Lord Mere smiled and drank a little more wine.

  “Although I am being irritatingly secretive,” he said, “I want you to help me, Julius.”

  Sir Julius threw out his hands.

  “All I have is yours!” he said quoting an ancient saying of the East.

  “Then first,” Lord Mere began, “tell me what you know about the Soginos and their feud with the Gorizias.”

  Sir Julius looked surprised.

  “I cannot think why they should interest you, but for what it is worth it is the usual vendetta between two families, which has increased rather than decreased over the centuries! At the moment, however, almost like in a Shakespearean play, an olive branch has been extended.”

  “In what way?”

  “The daughter of the Prince di Sogino, a very attractive young woman, is to marry the Prince di Gorizia’s son, an extremely unattractive young man.”

  “It sounds like a typical Renaissance drama.”

  Lord Mere was, however, thinking that he had a clue as to why the necklace had been stolen from his sister.