“Believe me, it is,” he said, lifting his shirt. A network of shallow cuts crisscrossed his torso. Some of the blood had dried; some flowed freely.
“I will take her apart,” I said to no one in particular. “Slowly.”
“I would not advise that,” Harry said.
Something in his voice warned me before I turned. He stood nextto the door, smiling grimly. And in one hand he held a revolver pointed at my head.
“Sit down, Veronica. This will not take long.” He knocked sharply upon the door, and it opened instantly. Isabel MacGregor entered, dressed once more in her traveling costume. The dour Göran waited behind her, blocking the door.
“You unmitigatedbastard,” I said to Harry.
“There is no call to be rude,” he said in an injured tone.
I launched into a tirade that included quite a few choice words I had most definitely not learnt at the vicar’s knee.
“She has quite a colorful vocabulary,” Mrs.MacGregor said to Harry.
“And a tongue sharp enough to cut glass,” he agreed. “It diminishes her attractiveness, I’ve always thought. But I suppose we might excuse her this once. She does, after all, have considerable provocation. I did just betray her. Again.”
“And planned your act of heroics with Mrs.MacGregor’s cooperation?” Stoker guessed. “I imagine you broke the key on purpose in order to deliberately leave me here, guessing that Veronica would want to bargain for my life with the diamond.”
“Well, she certainly wouldn’t have bargained formine,” Harry pointed out. “And I would very much like my neck out of the noose. Besides, I knew if Isabel and I had a chance to talk, she would realize that I was playing fair with her. I always intended she should have the diamond, and it was not my fault someone else took the bloody thing. But now I have got it for her, and we can be friends again,” he finished with a fond look at his conspirator.
“So, I guess bygones will be bygones?” I inquired.
“Something like that,” Isabel MacGregor said.
“If this was all a plot between you, then why torture Stoker whilst we were gone?” I demanded.
Isabel MacGregor’s smile was mirthless. “I bore easily and you took such a long time.” She turned to Harry. “Do you have it?”
“She does,” Harry said with a jerk of the chin towards me.
Isabel smiled. “Excellent.” She came near and put out her hand. “My diamond, please.”
I reached into my pocket, but what I pulled out was no diamond. It was a knife, thin and beautifully sharp. I had only one chance to strike, but Isabel MacGregor, perhaps with a caution born of long experience, dodged as my hand came up. She feinted to the side and my blade grazed her cheekbone but bit no further. Instantly she turned, backhanding me with a resounding crack. With a roar, I lowered my shoulder and rushed into her, driving the air from her lungs as I forced her to the ground. I had just wrapped my hands in her hair and lifted her head, preparing to dash it against the stone floor, when I was yanked into the air, my feet flailing. The unlovely Göran had come to her defense, plucking me off her as easily as a bit of thistledown. He shook me, like a dog will shake a rat, and dropped me hard, the impact setting my ears to ringing. He put out a hand to help Isabel to her feet. A thin line of scarlet raked one cheek, and she touched it, smiling.
“Wanted a bit of your own back, did you?” she asked. She bent near and slapped me hard, twice, making certain her ring bit. I snapped my teeth at her the second time and she stepped back sharply as I tasted blood.
“Harry, deal with her.” She took the revolver from him and he smiled at her.
“Very well, my dear. But first I think we ought to draw her claws,” he said, moving for one of the loathsome iron cuffs.
He signaled to Göran to hold my arms tautly behind my back whilst he locked it about my ankle. Then he reached into my pocket, slowly, teasingly.
“I know it is somewhere in here,” he said, a tiny smile playing overhis lips. His hand closed over the parcel in my pocket and he drew it out. He handed it over to Isabel, standing in front of me whilst she opened it. She unknotted the string and folded back the oilcloth just enough to make certain of the contents.
“Marvelous,” she said, putting it into her own pocket.
She turned to Göran. “Are the horses ready?” He grunted something in Swedish and she smiled. “It is time for us to take our leave of you,” she said, looking from me to Stoker. Her eyes lingered on his face and the smile deepened. “It will be an absolute wrench to leave you behind, I must say. I do hope you manage to work your way free in a few days. I should hate to think of you starving to death in here. It would be the most dreadful waste.” She looked back at me. “You, I shall not miss at all.” She waited at the door whilst Harry came to where Göran still held my arms behind my back.
“Why did you bring me back here?” I asked. “You might have overpowered me at the Belvedere and taken the diamond for yourself.”
He shrugged. “You are a loose end, I am afraid. And we cannot have that.”
He clucked his tongue. “I doubt we shall meet again, so you must have something to remember me by.”
Without further ado, he placed his hands on my shoulders and bent in to kiss me. The kiss was... comprehensive, involving a significant length of time and effort on his part. When his lips touched mine, I reared back, resisting, but he moved one hand to cup my head, holding it firmly in place as his mouth covered mine once more, urgent. Dimly, I heard Stoker behind me, emitting a low growl, but I ignored him as my lips parted and I gave way to Harry’s deft manipulations.
