The Scandal

As scandalous as it might sound, I, Jacqueline Kaplan Spadros - a woman still married to the Spadros Family Heir - worked as a private investigator. I'd left Tony over a year ago. My husband refused to divorce me; I refused to return home.

For the past six months, I'd been trying to get a case so I'd have money to pay my bills. But I cared about more than paying bills.

I had to find Joseph Kerr. I hadn't seen him since the night Tony caught us together in my study.

I didn't know whether Joe was alive or dead. He'd still been walking with a cane from his terrible accident a few months earlier. Tony had posted a monstrous reward for his capture, so the entire city searched for him, including the Four Families. How could he possibly have survived?

But my best friend Jonathan Diamond seemed to believe Joe was alive, and that thin hope was all that kept me going most days.

And I also had to find little David Bryce's kidnappers.

David's oldest brother Nicholas (who we children called Air) had been my best friend until my father killed him when I was twelve. One of the scoundrels who took David claimed he'd taken the boy simply to lure me into their trap. So I felt doubly responsible.

And though I rescued David Bryce, he was by no means well.

I visited David and his mother Eleanora during Yuletide. He'd gotten taller, thinner. Small dark hairs dotted his chin. Yet though he was now thirteen, he still rocked, curled into a ball, just as when I'd found him in that windowless basement over a year earlier.

That bright, happy little boy had been driven mad. And I would destroy those who took him.

Once my bills were paid, I could hire a taxi-carriage and pay my informants. I could find Joe. I could bring David's kidnappers to justice. I could start rebuilding my life.

So here I was, walking from house to house in hopes that someone would know someone who needed my help.

* * *

Amelia and I managed to cover the south side of east 25th Street before we had to return for tea. While waiting for Blitz to answer the bell, I wearily rested my hand on the sign attached to the wall below my door number:

Kaplan Private Investigations

Discreet Service For Ladies

Blitz opened the door. "No luck, huh?"

I shook my head. "Amelia, this time I'm glad to change out of these clothes."

Blitz said, "Master Diamond is here."

I peered past Blitz into the parlor. Tea had been set out, with small sandwiches upon a three-tiered sandwich stand Mary had found at a poorhouse sale.

Jonathan Diamond ventured over to greet us, his smile bright against his dark skin. Jon wore a forest green jacket and trousers, with a charcoal and green waistcoat patterned with the Holy Symbol his Family had taken for its own. His coiled black hair had been cut since I saw him the day earlier, and I wondered if his dastardly and frankly mad identical twin Jack had ever pretended to be Jon, even in play.

"Wait there," I said. "I'll be out shortly."

Jon stopped mid-stride and chuckled, giving me an extravagant bow. "Then, dearest lady, I breathlessly await your return."

He always did know how to make me laugh.

When Amelia took off my left boot, she gasped. Blood lay upon my sock. When she stripped the sock off, skin flapped there. "You've worn through a blister!" Her face turned angry. "Why did you not tell me it pained you?" She rushed to fill my wash bowl with water. "Soak your foot, mum."

The water was cold, but it felt good. I put both feet in.

A copy of the Golden Bridges had arrived, sent by one of my informants, apparently unaware I had no money to pay her for it. "Who paid the messenger?"

"The butler, mum."

Amelia would never refer to either Blitz or Mary Spadros by their proper titles, only "the housekeeper" or "the butler", and that after I rebuked her for her disrespect. From the way she treated them, she seemed to think they'd risen above their proper station.

Amelia insisted on combing the dust out of my thick curls and loosely plaiting my hair, so in the meantime, I read the paper.

The Golden Bridges ("Fuck the Fairy Tales, Get the Real Story") was a tabloid. Full of speculations and wild theories, rumor and gossip. But once in a while, it could be useful.

BRIDGES STRANGLER ATTACKS!

Another Man Dead: Police Blame City

Every five days like clockwork, the fiend some call the Bridges Strangler presents the police with a grisly parcel. Yet the Constabulary seems no closer to finding the scoundrel than when he first began attacking young men over a year ago.

Policemen have been fired and new ones hired, yet the deaths continue. The bodies are often discovered in lower east Spadros quadrant. Some blame the police in that sector for not apprehending the villain.

Commander Norman Pattsz, the official leading the Spadros First Precinct, was overheard at the nearby tavern: "All protocols have been followed to the letter! If the police were given resources to deal with crimes of this nature, perhaps lives might be saved."

The Spadros Family refuses comment, and their mouthpiece the Bridges Daily ignores the matter altogether. But our sources close to the Family have noted an unusual amount of activity in the Spadros syndicate. The Golden Bridges will investigate this more thoroughly to uncover the Real Story.

I felt pretty sure what the "activity" was about.

Spadros men had rebelled against Roy, rampaging since before my trial. They called themselves the "Ten of Spades" and agitated for Tony's death. They'd attacked Tony and Sawbuck inside Spadros Manor. One of them even tried to shoot me in the street outside the Courthouse during the trial. If it hadn't been for Jonathan Diamond, I wouldn't be here today.

The Bridges Daily had reported two days earlier about a shootout in Spadros quadrant not far from where I lived. A group of Family men were ambushed while delivering a set of chairs to the site of an engagement party which was to take place the next day. Three were killed and several others injured on both sides of the struggle.

This must be the work of these rogues. Who else would attack Family men helping civilians?

The big question was this: were the Spadros rogues in alliance with the Red Dog Gang? I suspected such, but had no proof as yet.

As I paged through the Golden Bridges, I found this:

DIAMOND FAMILY CONTROVERSY?

Five Diamonds In Heated Secret Meeting

According to our Inside Reporter, the five eldest Diamond Heirs met yesterday at the exclusive Baroness Hotel on Market Center. Sources at the hotel state that the meeting involved "loud and heated" discussion. One of the brothers had injuries to his face upon leaving. A bill for damages was presented today by the hotel to Diamond Manor.

Although the nature of their discussion is unknown, the rumors of unrest within the Diamond Family following the historic "Bloody Handshake" upon the courthouse steps last November between Patriarchs Roy Spadros and Julius Diamond may be confirmed.

There have been no reports of, or even further movement towards, peace between the Spadros and Diamond Families in any official manner. But the Golden Bridges stands ready to bring you the Real Story as these events unfold.

Hmph, I thought, as Amelia wrapped my foot. The Golden Bridges mainly stood ready to sell more copies.

The Golden Bridges' "Inside Reporter" had to be a great number of people unless possessed with the skill of teleportation. I wondered who these men were. They were brave indeed to publish stories that the Four Families wished hidden.

* * *

Jonathan Diamond must have had a good appetite. By the time I returned to the parlor, half the sandwiches were gone and what little was left of the tea was cold. Mary brought in a fresh pot.

She'd made small sandwiches: mint found by the side of the road, rinsed and chopped into salted cheese she'd made from leftover milk, then spread onto day-old bread. They were delicious.

I turned to Jon. "I hope you're well?" My glance went to his water-glass, a bit of liquid still remaining from the tonics he took "for his health."

He smiled at me. "Well enough. And yourself?"

I ignored the pain in my foot. "Resuming business after being on trial is difficult, but I'll find someone willing to take my services."

"Have you contacted your former customers?"

This amused me. Every day, Jon arrived with a new idea. Yet today's idea was one he'd had less than a week after the trial. "Ages ago. They agree to be used as reference, and would happily call upon me in the future, but have no need for my services today."

He rested one arm over the back of the sofa. "Alas, I have no mysteries in my life which need solving. I wish you'd allow me to help, just until you're on your feet."

At the time, just one foot. "I won't allow it."

"Even as a loan?"

"I owe too much already." This thought discouraged me.

Jon leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Jacqui, I'm not Tony, and I'm not Mr. Pike. I - I can't - I don't want to - I only want to help. If you'll let me." He gazed towards the floor. "You'll be honest with me, will you not? If you're in need."

I felt such fondness for him, and yet I was amused. "Today, I am truly not in need. Thank you for reminding me of that."

"But I don't want you to even feel anxious of need. I want you happy and well."

"Jon, I'm perfectly well." Other than my foot, which felt as if on fire. But mentioning it would only worry him.

He clasped his hands together, dropped his voice so only I might hear. "But are you happy? Is this," he glanced around, "what you truly want?"

Am I happy? The question had arisen many times in my life up to then, and only a few of those times had the answer been yes. I leaned back, surveying the room. Then I chuckled. "How could I possibly be unhappy with you here?"

Jonathan blushed, smiling to himself. "You insist on flattery when I ask a simple question. Being happy when no one else is around, now that is a worthy goal. Just happy with yourself."

His words struck me, and my eyes stung.

"I'm sorry, Jacqui. But I don't think you're happy at all."

But this is what I wanted! "I couldn't breathe there. I couldn't think. The place was killing me." Being with Tony was killing me, with his neediness and his constant fear for me and his lies. Night after night, having to pretend I desired him, all the while screaming inside ... "I felt caged."

"I don't want you to go back if you don't want to. But you have to consider what you do want. What you need to be happy. Really, truly happy." His dark eyes peered into mine. "Because you don't know how long you have before the Dealer collects your cards."

"Have you heard anything about Joseph Kerr? Anything at all?"

Jonathan leaned back, glancing away, an edge to his tone. "The search continues. I've not heard of any sightings, not of him, or his sister, or his grandfather. Even their maid has disappeared."

"I know you dislike him, Jon, but -"

"Dislike is the wrong word. I've seen what he's done - still doing - to you. What he's done to other women. What he's been accused of, is being accused of to this day."

"Could he not be innocent, though? Is it possible all this talk is only talk? Slander? How can you cast him aside on rumor? He's been your friend, Jon. And he's only shown me the very best."

He faced me. "On this matter, we can never agree. Yes, he's been cordial. But I don't trust him. And I've seen the anguish of the women he seduced then abandoned. The little girls with his eyes clinging to their mothers as they were dragged to a life of whoredom in the Pot." He pointed towards my bedroom. "I carried you from that very place, where you lay near dead because of him. Don't ask me to consider his nature, Jacqui. Because it disgusts me."

I stared at him, appalled. "How can you say this?"

"Because I'm being honest with you, something you can't seem to be, even to yourself."

I recoiled, thrown into thought. Was I being dishonest with myself? Surely not.

It didn't matter how I felt about Joseph Kerr not being with me during all that had happened. It didn't matter how hard it was for me to understand what people claimed he'd done. I couldn't pass judgment on him without hearing his side of the story. It would be unfair. "I love him, Jon. I love him with my whole heart. Nothing you say will ever make me stop loving him."

We sat in silence. Yet I felt a turmoil inside. I did love Joseph Kerr, despite the rumors and accusations. I feared for his safety. I wanted Jonathan to understand.

"If what I said could make you stop loving him it wouldn't be love," Jon finally said. "I don't want you to stop loving him, Jacqui. I just want you to see Joseph Kerr for what he is. So you can know who it is you love. That's all."

Mary came in to collect the dishes, and I considered Jonathan's words. Could it be possible that Joe hid things from me? That I didn't know him? Could any of these accusations be true?

I remembered that afternoon when I nearly drank myself to death at the thought they might be true, and I shuddered. "I don't want to return there."

Jonathan glanced over his shoulder in the direction I stared, at my bedroom. Then he sat beside me and took my hand. "You don't have to drink to face the reality of life. There are other ways."

I felt lost. I didn't know what those other ways were.

Jonathan rose, still holding my hand. "Call your maid, get dressed. I wish to take you on promenade."

"I've been walking all day!"

"Then we'll go for a drive. Mrs. Dewey!"

I gaped at him. Why was he addressing my servant?

She hurried in and curtsied almost to the floor. "Yes, sir?"

"Make Mrs. Spadros ready. We're going on a drive."

She stopped, mouth open, and glanced back and forth. Then she recovered, curtsying low. "Yes, sir, at once, sir."

There was no blood on my foot wrappings, which pleased Amelia. She re-wrapped my foot in a thinner bandage and cautioned me not to walk further.

When I emerged, Jon said to Amelia, "Pray tell the housekeeper Mrs. Spadros will return after dinner."

I stared at him, astonished. "Jon -"

"You have been without gaiety long enough. I wish to take your thoughts from trouble and put them on more joyous matters."

"Well -" I wasn't sure this was a good idea, with my foot the way it was.

"Then it's settled. You have your handbag? We're off."

Amelia stepped in his way and curtsied low. "Sir, may I speak with Mrs. Spadros one moment?"

He stepped back. "Of course."

Amelia drew me aside and whispered, "You don't intend to leave me here?"

"Why should you come? You weren't invited."

She seemed confused. "You mustn't go to public dinner without your maid. It would cause scandal!"

"Amelia," I said. "After all your protestations about sitting with your betters, you wish to impose upon Master Diamond? I'm surprised at you."

Amelia gaped at me, eyes wide. "But, mum, you don't understand. Your husband -"

Tony's reaction to Madame Biltcliffe's former shop maid Tenni sitting at the table with us flashed through my mind. "Would be furious at the very idea!" I gestured towards the kitchen, where Mary prepared dinner. "Will you go? Or must I inform her myself?"

Jon stood watching, too far off to hear our conversation. Amelia went crimson. "No, mum." She vanished into the other room.

Jon said, "Will she not attend you?"

"It's not necessary." We had plenty to eat here. Or she could eat at Spadros Manor as she usually did. "All will be well."

Jon's eyes widened, but he opened the door for me. "Well ... if you're certain."

"Absolutely." My foot did hurt a bit, but surely the carriage wasn't far.

Jonathan Diamond's white and silver carriage sat parked on the corner twenty yards to the right. "They asked us not to park on your street," Jon said, "as it's too narrow for others to pass."

I'd wondered where it had been.

Jon's footman was a serious-looking man a bit darker-skinned than myself wearing the white livery of the Diamond Family trimmed in silver. The footman never glanced at me, but said to Jon, "Do we await any others, sir?"

Jon hesitated. "No."

"As you wish, sir."

We got in, sitting side by side. The horses' hooves rang on the gray cobblestones as we set off.

"Your carriage is so warm," I said. "How is it done?"

Jonathan grinned. "My grandfather's invention. It runs on a dry-cell battery."

I didn't understand, and I supposed it showed, because Jon said, "It needs no wires, or even a generator. The mechanism holds electricity inside itself for later use."

"Oh." I felt impressed. "How ingenious!"

The sun shone pale between the rooftops and alleyways as we passed. We turned onto 24th, then onto the main road toward Market Center.

Streetlights were being lit. Shops began lighting their lamps inside. Workmen and shop maids trudged along. As we approached the Pot, the Hedge loomed in the distance, coming closer, then flanking the road on either side.

I thought of my people, still caged behind wrought iron. Still living in squalor. "This part of the city reminds me of what we've lost, Jon. All of us."

"I know." Jon squeezed my hand, then winced, rubbing a spot on his chest. "So tell me true: what would you enjoy? Shall we visit the river? I believe we have warmer days ahead. Perhaps we could take my boat out."

Our carriage drove onto the wide stone bridge towards Market Center. "That sounds wonderful! How have I never seen your boat?"

"I'm not much of a sailor." Jon shrugged. "I've never given it much thought. My mother gave it to me when I came of age." At that, he glanced away.

That would have been a year or so before Mrs. Rachel Diamond's terrible accident.

Jonathan said, "But with all my duties, I rarely have chance to take it out. I let my men use it from time to time." Then he winked, flashing a wry smile. "For the Business."

I grinned at him, making my face all innocence. "How would I possibly know what you mean, sir?"

Jon laughed full out then, until he winced.

"Is something wrong?"

He shrugged, not meeting my eye. Then he let out a cough, wincing as he did so. "Perhaps a twinge of pleurisy. I've had it before: it's most annoying." He took a heating pad from a pouch in the carriage-wall and pressed it to his chest. "The heat helps."

"My poor dear. But you feel otherwise well?"

"Of course! Don't let this worry you."

The carriage stopped in front of the restaurant we'd often had luncheon at during the trial, a favorite for the police. Jon returned the heating pad to its pouch in the door. "Wait here. Keep the curtains closed."

He closed the door; I put my injured foot up on the black velvet bench seat across from me.

For weeks after the trial, reporters flocked to my home, asking for interviews, wanting my photo. Blitz made it sound as if there were a waiting list, offering to "get them to the front of the line" - for the right price. That did help with Yuletide, and with the year's order for my morning tea.

At the time, I had no lover. Yet I wished for no children. Twice, men had tried to violate me, and the cost for the tea my mother had given me was worth the peace of mind.

Amelia was scandalized when she heard of the bribery, but her opinion didn't bother Blitz in the slightest. "If these men are silly enough to offer a bribe," he'd said, "I'm silly enough to accept it."

But eventually even that stopped, and Tony's dollar a month didn't go as far as I liked. Looking back, I don't think Tony had any notion whatsoever of how much things cost.

Jon tapped the window, which startled me. The door opened. "It's safe."

People walked past, but I saw no sign of Spadros men, rogue or otherwise. So I followed Jon into the restaurant.

The place was much the same as before: wood paneled walls, large windows before an outdoor patio. We were taken to a small curtained back room much like what they had at the Ladies' Club. As we passed those dining, we were the subject of not a few stares and whispers. Some of the stares weren't friendly.

The room could be seen through the diaphanous white curtains, lit by an electric chandelier over the table. Market Center seemed to have the most reliable Magma Steam Generator in the city: the island had not once lost power.

We sat at the large round table facing the curtains, a seat between us. The waiter took our drink order - tea for us both. Although the sheer curtains were drawn, I could see - and feel - the stares in our direction. "How the tongues will wag tonight."

Jon seemed startled. "You think so?"

He invited me, so I assumed all was proper. Had he not thought this through? "Let me see ... my husband and I have not been seen together in public since the trial, not even at the Yuletide Spectacle. I don't appear at the Grand Ball -"

Tony had asked me, Jonathan had asked me, even Mr. Charles Hart had asked me. Which was within his rights, as that year's host for the Ball. But I had refused them all.

"- or the Celebration of the Coup. And I'm seen in society for the first night since the trial ... with you." I gave him a thin smile.

Jon put his hand to his forehead. "I'm sorry, Jacqui. I didn't consider how this might look. Should we go?"

I chuckled. "Of course not!" I raised my voice, staring at those staring back until they turned away. "Let the tongues wag - I have nothing left to hide."

That was true enough. The trial had laid every scandal bare - my business, my homeland, the details of my marriage. The only thing which hadn't been exposed was my dalliance with Joseph Kerr. Which, if what Doyle Pike's grandson Thrace said were true, could be revealed at any moment or used to Doyle Pike's advantage. And of course, Roland, Tony's illegitimate son by Jon's sister Gardena.

The boy's true identity was a secret I hoped would never come to light, for everyone's sake.

Jonathan opened his menu, and so did I, but I'd been here so many times I already knew what I wanted. "Don't fret yourself, Jon. All will be well. I'm grateful you thought to give me a night out."

Jon took a sip of tea. I so loved the sight of his dark, dark skin against the white china. He glanced up as the waiter entered. "I think we're ready to order."

After the waiter left, I mentioned the Golden Bridges article about his brothers. "What happened?"

"Your news report told it in as much detail as I know. Other than which brother received the blow." He gave a grimace.

"Surely it wasn't you?"

Jonathan let out a short laugh. "No, I wasn't even there. Betony insists on trying to make peace, while Cesare desires nothing more than to show his contempt for everyone. Betony stepped in between my other brothers, and was hurt for it." Then he shrugged. "At least, that's what he told me."

"Oh, Jon ... was he hurt badly?"

"Nothing chipped ice won't solve. But I fear for them all."

He seemed to struggle with what to say, and I remained silent.

"My parents care about us. But my mother's true love was her tinkering. Nurses and maids raised us, yet we were shown little affection. I think they were instructed to keep their distance. My brothers never formed a bond with my parents." He shrugged. "I feel as if rambling."

"No, I understand perfectly." I thought of my mother, and all the women who raised me instead of her.

"My brothers lack something," he tapped his chest, "inside. Especially when it comes to our father. We were sent to school in the countryside as boys barely old enough for instruction. My father claims it was for our safety, but they see it as abandonment. Dismissal. Betrayal. While they're well-taught in the ways of governance and survival, they have little love for or understanding of my father. Or his plans for this Family."

Julius Diamond had made many powerful enemies. And ones not so powerful, but who might become so. For example, Tony.

I didn't think Tony would hurt his son's grandfather. But Julius Diamond was the one who kept Tony from seeing Roland any more than he did.

"Many in Diamond quadrant are disturbed, Jacqui. They fear even the rumor of an alliance with Roy Spadros. They fear he'll turn on them. Many remember friends lost to his torture room during the Diamond Purge. I don't know if you remember those days. After Jack's manservant Daniel was murdered -"

I stared at him in horror. By my father. With Roy Spadros watching.

"- we went to war. Daniel was a Diamond sworn, if not a Diamond born, and we had to avenge him. But then a year later, my father brokered a cease-fire. I understand his reasons now, but Jack and Cesare never forgave him."

Jack Diamond and his oldest brother Cesare in agreement on anything was a chilling thought.

"Jack has been obsessed with learning why Daniel was there that night, even to this day. But Cesare felt shamed by what he saw as our father's weakness." Jonathan let out a weary sigh. "All Cesare can see is the Spadros Family's crimes. 'Better to die than ally,' he says; many in our Family agree. On the other hand, Betony cares only for peace, and if promised it, will follow anywhere. He loves and admires Cesare, and hopes that with his influence, he might temper his path." Jon shook his head. "But of those five, Betony is the youngest." Jon glanced away. "I fear for us all, Jacqui. My father extending his hand to Roy Spadros may do what nothing has in a hundred years - shatter the Diamond quadrant."

"Your father's in danger."

Jonathan smiled at that. "We're Diamonds, Jacqui. We're always in danger. Yet I fear you may be right where my father is concerned." He let out a breath, shoulders drooping. "There's no reasoning with him. His way is right, no matter what anyone says."

Julius Diamond had treated Tony abominably, and snubbed me the one time I visited his home. But he tried to speak kindly to me in the storm room during the trial, and a part of me hoped he might survive this.

Waiters set our food before us. It smelled delicious.

Once they left, Jon said, "Mr. Charles Hart has inquired as to your well-being."

Jonathan Diamond and Charles Hart seemed to have an unusually close relationship for a Patriarch of one Family and the youngest son of another. "I hope he's well?"

Jon shrugged. "He sorely misses his grand-daughter -"

"Oh? Where has she gone?"

"When Inventor Etienne left the racetrack, he took Ferti with him." Jonathan shook his head. "On the face of it, the matter seems obvious: a man bringing his daughter to their new home. But in reality, the situation is unpleasant."

Miss Ferti Hart had a serious impediment: while she was the same age as Mary, her mind was that of a small child. "How so?"

"Mr. Hart claims the others care nothing for the girl; Mrs. Judith only brought her with them to spite him." Jon began to cut his lamb roast. "Are you sure you won't see him?"

"Why does Charles Hart wish to call on me? With everything that's happening, it seems like the last thing he'd want to do."

Jon shrugged, focused on his plate. "He wants to offer his support. I think he misses the time when he saw you every day during the trial."

I took a bite of mashed potatoes. Mr. Hart seemed entirely besotted with me. I couldn't understand it. "Tell him ... I'm concerned only for his welfare. He must calm his quadrant and resolve matters with his wife. Then I shall be happy to see him."

"He worries for you, Jacqui. He only wants the best for you."

"Tell him I'm perfectly well." Then I smiled at him fondly. "Look at you. Forever asked to play the messenger."

Jonathan chuckled. "I suppose such is my lot. Yet here I am, enjoying an evening with fine food and my dearest friend. So it's no bother at all."

* * *

On our return, Jon had his driver pull up to the door "for my safety," and stood with me at the door until Blitz opened it. Amelia had gone home, as she usually did before dinner.

I went into my room to change into my house clothes - with Mary's help - and I let Mary comb out my hair before she went to bed. I could change into my nightgown without her.

I sat at my tea-table with a cigarette, my foot up on the chair across from me.

Dinner with Jonathan had been lovely. Yet my troubles still remained. How was I going to pay my property tax?

The problem seemed insurmountable: I couldn't force anyone to hire me. I wished the Red Dog Gang had never made me their target. I had no shortage of clients before they interfered in my life.

What had I done to offend them, other than to have the misfortune of being sold to the Spadros Family? It seemed so unfair.

The clock struck midnight. I yawned and stubbed out my cigarette, well-ready for bed.

A large fist hammered the front door.

From far down the hall, Blitz said, "What the hell?"

The hammering resumed.

"Coming, you bastard." I heard Blitz stalk to the door, open it. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Get out of my way," Sawbuck growled.

Although my first impulse was to rush to my door, I decided the best course of action might be to sit still.

A moment later, Sawbuck burst in without knocking.

"It's a good thing I'm still up," I said, "or you'd have some explaining to do."

"Half the city's speculating about you and Jonathan Diamond. How could you do this?"

"How was I to -?"

But then, I reconsidered. Jon did say we were going to dinner. Then it dawned on me what Amelia had been referring to. What Jon's footman referred to. Why Blitz and Mary had been so quiet since I returned. "Come in, Ten. Sit down."

He shook his head and leaned on the door-post.

"He was only trying to cheer me. It was an innocent mistake."

"Jonathan Diamond knows better! When I left him, his father stood ripping him to shreds." A laugh burst forth. "Doing a finer job than I ever might."

"How is he?"

Sawbuck snorted. "Master Diamond? He's -"

"No. Tony."

Sawbuck came in, closed the door, and leaned on it, eyes shut. "Mortified. Devastated. Furious at you both." He spoke bitterly. "But he can never stay angry at Master Diamond for long." He opened his eyes. "You either, I'm afraid."

"Afraid?"

"If you're determined to be here, the best thing is for him to let you go and get on with his life."

Empty blackness lay outside my window. "All I ever wanted was for my husband to be with his son." Why was Tony so fixated on me? "Can you not persuade him?"

"No. And before you ask, that handshake on the courthouse steps did nothing to hinder the alliance between Diamond and Clubb. Nor is Miss Gardena - or her father - more willing to consider a reconciliation with Mr. Anthony." He shrugged. "So far as I know, anyway. I'm not privy to such matters."

Our eyes met. "I'm sorry, Ten. I truly am."

He glanced away.

"Please tell him that. Nothing I have ever done was meant to hurt him."

Sawbuck stood there for a while, eyes unfocused. Then he glanced my way. "What the hell happened to your foot?"