That Would Be a Fairy Tale (22 page)

BOOK: That Would Be a Fairy Tale
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‘Not when you drew back,’ said Sophie. ‘As long as you don’t stand too far forward you should not be noticed; particularly as it will be dark, and Mr Goss will not be looking for you.’

‘Very well. It’s settled. I suggest we go for a coffee now, in one of the cafés, and then go back to the villa so that you can practice your swooning again.’

Sophie agreed. ‘I won’t rest until I can dislodge the tiara every time.’

 

‘He’s here.’ Mrs Lessing’s voice held a note of satisfaction the following morning as she returned from a visit to her friend, Mrs Lincoln, who lived close by. ‘I asked Mrs Lincoln casually if there were any new visitors to town today - it is a source of great interest to us in the summertime, and we always ask each other who has arrived, so the question did not seem unusual - and the Honourable Martin Goss was one of the names she mentioned.’

Cicely spoke calmly. ‘Then it is time to put the first part of our plan into operation.’

She suppressed a feeling of being left out as Sophie and Mrs Lessing put on their outdoor things and prepared to leave for a walk on the promenade. She consoled herself with the fact that she would be able to watch the proceedings on the night of the dinner party, and helped Sophie to arrange her hat.

‘You remember what he looks like?’ asked Cicely, wanting to make sure her aunt and cousin would recognise him.

Mrs Lessing nodded. Cicely had given her a full description of the man.

‘Good,’ said Cicely.

‘Wish me luck!’ said Sophie as she stuck the hatpin into her hair. Her eyes were shining at the thought of the excitement to come.

‘You may not see him today, remember,’ Cicely cautioned her. ‘He may be tired, and spend the rest of the day in his hotel.’

‘Then we will have to try again tomorrow,’ said Sophie. ‘But the sooner we meet him the better. That way, there is more chance of him accepting our invitation.’

Cicely waved her aunt and cousin goodbye, and then sat down with a book. But for once Mr Wodehouse’s glorious comic characters could not hold her interest. She set aside
The Pothunters
and strolled over to the window. Somewhere down in Marienbad, her aunt and cousin were seeking to draw Mr Goss into their trap.

Cicely, however, must not be seen, which meant that her movements over the next few days would be necessarily restricted. However, she was too restless to remain in the villa, and putting on her coat she went out into the wonderfully-scented pine forest that surrounded it.

She could not help her thoughts drifting back to her encounter with Alex as she walked through the trees, no matter how hard she had tried to put it out of her mind. She wished she understood him. Why had he objected to her marrying Chuff Chuff? What, indeed, had put the idea into his head? And why had he kissed her, driving all thought of everything else out of her mind?

She recalled the daydreams of her childhood, when she had imagined herself playing on the lawns of the Manor with her children, as Haringays had done for time out of mind. But in those daydreams the face of her husband had been vague. Now it was clear. It was the face of Alex Evington.

How strange it was, to find herself falling in love with Alex Evington. She had been so determined to dislike him. But it had become impossible for her to do so. There was so much about him she admired and valued. But evidently he did not return those feelings, because he thought her so shallow she would marry for position and wealth.

At last she returned to the villa, having rid herself of her restlessness by her walk, and found that Sophie and Mrs Lessing had just returned.

Sophie was in a state of great excitement.

‘We’ve managed it!’ she said as she took off her coat. ‘The Honourable Martin Goss is coming to the dinner party at the
Kurhaus
! He accepted our invitation!’

‘It couldn’t have been more fortunate,’ said Mrs Lessing. ‘As soon as I saw him I recognised him from your description, but his identity was confirmed by an elderly dowager walking past at that moment and returning his greeting by nodding, and saying shortly, "Goss".’

‘So we were then absolutely certain it was him,’ said Sophie, as the three of them went into the sitting-room. ‘Oh, Cicely, I wish you could have been there! It all went according to plan. I bumped into him, flushed prettily -’

‘Really, Sophie,’ scolded her mother, ‘I don’t like to hear you describing yourself as pretty. It is unbecoming for a young lady to flatter herself.’

‘Well, I did,’ said Sophie unrepentantly, ‘for there would have been no point in flushing unattractively.’ Then, turning back to Cicely, she said, ‘I fluttered my eyelashes and simpered and flirted, and through it all I squeezed out an incoherent apology.

‘He raised his hat and smiled indulgently, and said, "No harm done," and I said he must let me make amends. And then I invited him to dinner. He looked as though he were going to refuse - my heart was in my mouth! - but then he caught sight of mother. He could see she didn’t half like the idea, for she couldn’t disguise her true feelings, however much she tried, and as soon as she bridled I knew he would come. Annoying people is one of his greatest pleasures!’

‘Really, Sophie, you don’t know that,’ reproved her mother.

‘Well, by the look on his face it seemed that way,’ said Sophie. ‘And then he said, ‘"If you are sure I would be welcome," in just such a way that mother couldn’t possibly refuse, so she issued him a stiff invitation.’

‘And he accepted?’ asked Cicely.

‘He did - although as much to spite mother as to spend the evening with me, I am sure!’

Cicely smiled. She could just imagine Martin Goss enjoying the situation, and exploiting it to the full.

‘So he is coming!’ said Sophie. ‘Now all we have to do is make sure he steals the tiara and we have him.’

‘One plan has already failed,’ Cicely reminded her, not wanting her to get her hopes up too much.

‘True,’ said Sophie. Then added mischievously, ‘But you didn’t have me to help you then!’

Cicely laughed.

Mrs Lessing, however, was not amused, wondering aloud how her daughter had grown into such a minx.

Nevertheless, it was a buoyant party who sat down to tea. The first part of the venture had succeeded. Now they must hope for similar success in the second.

 

Cicely regarded herself in the glass. Swathed in an old black mourning dress of her aunt’s, she gave the impression of being an elderly dowager instead of a young lady. Her dark hair was hidden by a wide brimmed black hat and her face was covered with a thick veil. All in all, she was pleased with her disguise. Now all she needed to do was put on her coat when the time came for her to leave the villa and she would be ready to go.

She glanced at the clock. It was only
half past nine
. It was still too soon for her to set out.

It had been agreed that Sophie would swoon at half-past ten, and Cicely meant to be in place just before then. From her vantage point in the doorway she would be able to see everything that happened, and go to Sophie’s aid if the situation should turn unexpectedly ugly.

Alex, too, would be there, hidden across the road from Cicely, ready to lend his assistance if it should be required. But if all went well then neither he nor Cicely would need to take a hand. Mr Goss would take the tiara and head for his fence, where the two private detectives would apprehend him in the act of trying to sell it.

Cicely went over to the window and looked out at the night. To her relief it was fine and clear. Rain would have spoilt their plan completely - Sophie could hardly have suggested a walk if it had been pouring down! But fortune had favoured them, and soon she would be on her way.

Cicely tried to read, but she could not keep her attention on the novel, no matter how entertaining, because she was engaged in a far more entertaining enterprise of her own.

At last it was time to go. Slipping into one of her aunt’s coats she lowered her veil then left the villa, setting out on foot for the Kurhaus.

Half an hour later, she was safely ensconced in the doorway, waiting for Sophie to appear.

The time passed slowly. She was cramped in the confines of the doorway but dare not leave it in case Sophie and Mr Goss, coming out of the
Kurhaus
, should see her. She stamped her feet and blew into her hands to ward off the cold.

Five minutes passed, then ten, and Cicely began to grow anxious. Sophie should have made an appearance by now. Try as she might, Cicely could not prevent herself from imagining the various things that could have gone wrong. The Honourable Martin Goss might have failed to appear at the dinner party; he might have been impervious to Sophie’s charms; or he might have seen a piece of jewellery that was more to his thief’s liking and decided to ignore the tiara.

The latter was a problem Cicely had always known they would face. Her aunt’s guests were wealthy people, and the ladies would inevitably be wearing their jewels. If Goss saw something he felt would make a better target for his light fingers -

But wait. What was that? The sound of a woman’s voice? It was Sophie’s laughter, borne to her on the wind.

Hastily she pressed herself back into the doorway. By angling herself in exactly the right position she was able to see what was happening without being seen.

Yes. Sophie had managed to get Martin Goss to escort her outside. The two of them were approaching the place where Sophie had arranged to swoon. Sophie was looking beautiful in an off-the-shoulder evening gown. It was no surprise that Mr Goss, resplendent in evening dress, should have been delighted with the idea of escorting her outside, even had she not been wearing a magnificent tiara.

But the tiara was there, glinting in the moon-and-starlight. Cicely held her breath. They reached the spot where Sophie intended to swoon - and now Sophie was swooning, and the tiara, just as they had practised it, was slipping from her head. Their plan was working.

Even so, Cicely was anxious as Mr Goss helped Sophie to the bench, where she gracefully sank down in an attitude of complete helplessness. He evidently said a few words to her -
he is promising to fetch her mother
, thought Cicely with satisfaction - and then Sophie fell back again in a most convincing fashion, whilst Goss left her side.

Cicely watched him head back towards the
Kurhaus
. She was on tenterhooks, wondering whether he would  take the tiara. She hardly dare look as she saw him approach it. He stopped, looked back to make sure that Sophie was indeed unconscious - or at least appeared to be so - then, with a furtive look round, he bent and picked up the tiara, which he slipped into his pocket.

Cicely let out her breath. So far so good.

She continued to watch as he hurried on, past the
Kurhaus
and up the street that led to his contact. She felt a surge of jubilation rising inside of her. They had done it!

A minute later she sobered. There were still a number of things that could go wrong. Martin Goss might have a different contact in Marienbad, one they knew nothing about. Or he might decide to go to Karlsbad, or another of the neighbouring towns, to get rid of the tiara.

Sophie, still in character, was draped beautifully across the bench in case Goss should return. Cicely could not help admiring her style. Lillie Langtry, who had been the darling of Edward VII before she had become a notable actress, could not have done it better!

Even so, the next fifteen minutes were tense. Cicely longed to leave the doorway and stretch her legs, but she dare not move. If anything went wrong and Goss returned she did not want to rouse his suspicions. So she must wait until Alex, who was to discreetly follow Goss to his contact, returned to tell her that it had all gone according to plan.

The minutes ticked by. She saw Sophie stir once or twice before sitting up, though in a pose which still suggested a recent swoon. If all went well, Goss would not return. But until they were sure he had been apprehended Sophie must continue to play her part.

The church clock chimed eleven. Surely it would not be much longer?

But no! There was Alex, hurrying towards her along the empty street.

‘We’ve got him!’ he exclaimed as he joined her in the doorway.

‘At last!’ Cicely was delighted.

She lifted her veil, which was beginning to stifle her, and threw it back over her hat. It caught on the hat pin. She raised her hands to free it, only to find them brushing Alex’s strong fingers, as he too moved to release her veil. She stilled, her mouth a round ‘o’ as she looked up into his face.

His expression was penetrating. He was looking down at her with the light of passion burning in his eyes. She felt his fingers close round her hands. Then he drew them to his lips. A tingling sensation spread over her skin, despite her gloves: the electricity that coursed through her whenever he touched her could not be stopped by mere lace. He turned her hands over and kissed her palms. She shuddered, the power of his touch sending waves of desire through her.

‘Well? Did we get him?’

Sophie’s voice broke into their private moment, and Cicely quickly withdrew her hands, so that by the time Sophie reached them there was nothing untoward for her to see. Fortunately, Alex’s back had blocked her view of what had just happened, for innocent though the gesture had been in one way, in another it had been full of forbidden passion.

BOOK: That Would Be a Fairy Tale
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