Mrs. Unster pressed her hands together in front of her and extended her clasped fingers in front of her in delight. “It is so marvelous to have callers. I vow, it’s been an entire year since I had one.” She released her hands and put a hand to her mouth in horror. “Oh heavens, what must you think of me? I haven’t even offered you any refreshment.”
Before Ridge could respond or tell her none were necessary, she scurried off. He glanced over at India who looked to be valiantly stifling laughter.
He settled down in his seat once more, convinced this wasn’t going to be an abbreviated visit. He jumped when he heard a series of clanging and banging from another part of the house. He moved to the edge of his seat, wondering if, in light of recent events, he should be concerned about Mrs. Unster.
He relaxed when she reappeared in the doorway, an embarrassed smile lighting her face.
“James will serve the refreshments,” she announced, moving aside so the young man could enter the room.
James moved slowly, awkwardly, the tray balanced precariously as he edged toward the sideboard. Ridge let out a sigh of relief when James set it safely down. What a mixed up household Mrs. Unster had.
He accepted the cup James extended to him and glanced over to see India accept one as well. Odd, but it didn’t feel warm. He might have expected coffee or perhaps watered-down tea.
Determined not to be impolite, he raised the cup and took a swallow of the liquid. He immediately coughed, the strong whiskey burning a trail down his throat. Good heavens, it was straight alcohol.
India’s eyes widened over her cup as she, too, drank. She lowered the drink and set it primly in her lap.
“Now, Lord Ridgewood, is there something you wanted?” Mrs. Unster asked, as she partook of her own drink.
He leaned forward, setting the cup to the side. “As a matter of fact, I wanted to ask you about Sir Roderick’s belongings. In particular a bracelet he may have had in his possession when he died.
A peculiar light entered her eyes and her hand shook as she handed her cup back to James. “More of your special tea, James. If you please.”
James readily poured another dose and handed the cup back to her. Armed with a fresh dram of whiskey, she gripped the cup and looked straight at Ridge.
“I do have a bracelet. Odd little piece it is. Not at all something one would want to wear to a social gathering.”
India leaned forward eagerly. “May we see it, Mrs. Unster? It is very important that we recover that artifact.”
Mrs. Unster frowned. “I am not sure I should give it to you, dearie. It’s a dreadful piece, it is.”
Ridge looked curiously at her. “Why do you think it’s dreadful? Is it very ugly?”
“Oh no, indeed not,” she protested. “It is quite beautiful, but it’s evil. I’m convinced it is of the devil himself.”
India slid to the edge of the settee, her face a mask of serious determination. “It is imperative that it is returned to its rightful place.”
Indecision flickered on the older woman’s face. “It’s the God’s truth, I’d be glad to be rid of the thing. But I wouldn’t feel right inflicting it on someone else, mind you.”
Ridge cocked his head. “Why do you say such things, Mrs. Unster? You act as though it has a life of its own.”
She nodded furiously. “It does. Aye, it does. Why one evening it began glowing. Just out of the blue, it did. When I received Roddy’s things from abroad, I thought to display the bracelet, it being so beautiful. But I never felt right in the same room with it. And one night, it began glowing. Bright red, it did. Tell them, James,” she said, gesturing emphatically at the young man.
“Aye, that it did, Madam,” he said soberly.
“Then perhaps we can help,” Ridge said. “If you would not mind parting with it, that is. I will pay you a handsome sum, of course.”
“It is more likely that I should be paying you for taking it,” she muttered.
She turned and waved airily at James. “Do fetch it, dear boy. You know where it is.” She downed the contents of her cup in one gulp and looked longingly at the tray James had deserted to fetch the bracelet.
Ridge sat drumming his fingers on his leg, and he looked over at India. She looked calm. Composed. Not at all like she was suffering the same eruption of anticipation that he was. When he heard approaching footsteps in the hall, he stood up.
James walked into the room bearing a cloth covered object. India brushed against Ridge, and he looked down to see she was standing beside him. The butler gingerly held out the bracelet, his eyes reflecting caution.
Ridge took it, half expecting to feel warmth, or a surge of energy. He shook his head at his absurdity and began unwrapping the bracelet. When it lay, cool in his hand, he turned it over to examine it.
It was an odd mixture of wood and metal. On one side, tiny jewels encrusted the edge. On the other, the surface was flat and smooth, but carved into it were strange symbols.
