Warriors (38 page)

“One of them.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like to have it?”

“Sorry?”

“The pretty little raven. Would you like to have it?”

“Oh, no. I could never . . .”

“Don’t be a silly girl. I’d love for you to take it. The bird is yours. A memento of your visit here. Now, don’t be rude. Just be a good girl and say thank you.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you. So awfully kind of you.”

“You’re quite welcome, Sabrina dear.”

Sabrina studied the bird in its cage, finding some magic in it, the notion that it could be trained to perform on command. That any bird could learn to behave like that.

“I’m awfully grateful. I suppose it would make a lovely addition to the nursery of the child I care for. Just imagine that exquisitely trained creature radiating its brilliance throughout his room every morning.”

“Exactly my thought. I do love it when my birds bring added joy into this world. I’m delighted for you to have it now, Sabrina.”

“Thank you. I don’t know quite what to say.”

She felt the weight of the woman’s dark eyes upon her and smiled.

“So charming here,” she said, looking around aimlessly, as if she had nothing better to say. “The light, you know. And the architecture.”

No reply. And then, “Tell me, Sabrina. You and Lorelei would appear to be very well acquainted. Yes-s-s?”

The woman positively purred.

She actually did sound a bit like a cat, possessing a timbre of voice that reminded Sabrina of that feline American songstress Eartha Kitt. And it wasn’t a purr, really. No. Lorelei’s friend actually growled when she spoke.

Sabrina laughed. “Oh, well acquainted. Well, we’re all that. We’ve logged more hours than either Lorelei or I would care to admit . . . at that pub where we met today. And others, I’m afraid . . . Miss . . . uh . . .”

“It’s Dr. Moon. But let us be friends. And do call me Chyna, dear. Ah, here’s our mutual friend now. Back so soon? Why, we hardly had time to find anything naughty to say about you . . .”

Lorelei laughed and handed Sabrina and Chyna each a stem of rose-tinted champagne before being seated next to Sabrina on the sofa.

Putting her glass on the side table, Sabrina said, “I don’t drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, I know that, darling. I just thought you might like a taste of the stuff. It is delicious. She is pretty, isn’t she, Chyna?” Lorelei said then, winking at Sabrina.

“Oh, please,” Sabrina said, leaning forward. “Stop it, Lorelei. Now you’re both embarrassing me.”

Lorelei said, “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s only a compliment. You do look bloody marvelous! Prettier than ever, I daresay, the quintessential English rose. And I must add that this nanny business clearly agrees with you. Or someone agrees with you.”

Chyna smiled at that.

“Well, I’m not exactly a nanny, Lorelei.”

“No? I thought that’s what you said in your e-mail from London. You’d taken a position in the country. As a nanny.”

“Well. The Yard prefers that I use the term ‘nanny’ when discussing what I do in public. But I’m more of a . . . bodyguard . . . actually.”

Chyna Moon leaned forward, her sharp eyes full of keen interest. “A bodyguard. How fascinating of you. And so adventurous. Lorelei was telling me you work for Scotland Yard. So that’s right?”

“I do. Been there ever since university. Recruited, actually. It’s a marvelous place to work. So many challenges, so many interesting people one meets.”

“And what exactly do you do there?” she said. Sabrina could almost see her twisting and stretching like a feline animal, warming her voluptuous backside by the fire.

“I am a Royal Protection officer.”

Chyna, leaning farther forward and speaking in her lowest register, said, “Royal Protection officer! Most impressive! Well, I can imagine that would be most interesting. Quite exciting, I should think. Tell us more. Do you carry a gun? Are you an expert shot?”

“Well . . . yes. I do. I am. Why do you ask?”

Too many questions. She looked away, hoping to find understanding in Lorelei’s eyes.

“Oh, Chyna, don’t be so rude to our guest!” Lorelei said. “Honestly, Sabrina, don’t take anything she says seriously. Give her a glass or two of good champagne and she goes all giddy.”

Sabrina smiled and forced herself to relax, concentrating on her breathing. For some reason, she found she was becoming less and less intimidated by the older woman. Chyna Moon was . . . what was the word? . . . The woman was a character. A true exotic . . . A what . . . what was the phrase?

A rare bird.

That was it.

“Lorelei tells me this man you work for is divine,” Chyna said.

“Really?” Sabrina said, looking at her friend. “How on earth would you know that?”

“Well, his picture’s everywhere, isn’t it?” Lorelei said. “Besides, he’s quite famous, isn’t he? In the society rags, I mean.”

“Oh. I suppose I see what you mean.”

Chyna said, “What’s his name, again? I too have seen his picture before, I’m sure.
Tatler, London Society,
or
Country Life
or somewhere like that. Lord Alexander Hawke. That’s it, isn’t it? A widower, I believe. Is he as smashing in real life?”

Sabrina paused before answering. It was odd. The two of them had been talking about her? And her employer? Well, obviously. The idea that she might come down here for an overnight visit must have been discussed the previous evening. As if this visit had been Lorelei’s plan all along. She’d have a word with her about that when she got the chance.

And why in the world had Lorelei never bothered mentioning that she knew who her current employer was?

Troubled, she plowed on.

“My current assignment is to Lord Hawke’s family, actually. He’s the most wonderful man. And a great father as well. But . . . tell me about you, Chyna, and Lorelei. What are you two doing at Cambridge?”

“I’ll let Lorelei take that one,” Chyna said, extracting another gold-tipped cigarette from a slim piano-black chase embossed with jade floral designs.

Lorelei frowned. “Oh, my dear. What am I not doing, Sabrina? I’m trying to get another doctoral dissertation done, for one thing. God! It is a massive undertaking, I won’t lie. I feel like I’ve been on it for a decade. I’ve been editing the damn thing all year.”

“What’s your thesis?”

“Asia’s growing global role in the twenty-first century. Focus specifically on China.”

“Fascinating. But it sounds rather heavy sledding. How do you do all the research? Google?” Sabrina could hear herself chatting away and wondered what she must have sounded like to these two erudite academics. Lorelei had always been the great intellect of their set. And her friend Chyna Moon was clearly an extremely bright and accomplished scholar herself.

Lorelei laughed. “Hardly. That slave driver over there makes me read endlessly. And we travel, of course. Beijing. Tokyo.”

Sabrina smiled at Chyna. “Are you helping her with her studies?”

“No!” she exclaimed.

Lorelei laughed at the outburst, finished her wine, and headed to the drinks table for the Krug bottle. “She can’t help me at all. Conflict of interest. She’s the head of my department. Chyna, give me your glass and I’ll pour you a splash more.”

“You’re at Cambridge, too, then?” Sabrina said to Chyna.

“I am. I’m a Fellow at St. John’s College. It works out quite well for us. Lorelei boards at my home in the country, you see. She likes horses, and I have yards, paddocks, and stables.”

“Don’t forget the stableboys,” Lorelei said.

“Hush up. She pays me rent but hardly enough to keep the lights on, I assure you.”

“How wonderful. Where is your house?”

“Oh, God. The back of beyond, really. Little village called Haversham. I doubt you’ve ever heard of it. About thirty miles or so from my college in town. You must come visit us some weekend. We have more room than God.”

“Fifty bathrooms,” Lorelei said dryly. “Can you believe it?”

“Do you ride at all?” Chyna asked her.

“I do, a bit, yes. Part of my equestrian training at the Yard. Nowhere nearly as beautiful a rider as Lorelei, I’m afraid.”

“Perhaps not as beautiful a rider. But certainly as beautiful. You are a picture, my dear.”

Sabrina could feel the color mounting in her cheeks once more.

“Oh!” she said almost involuntarily, adding a slight hiccup.

Chyna laughed, seeming to enjoy her embarrassment. “Don’t be shocked. I do have a terrible tendency to say whatever pops into my mind. And perhaps two glasses of wine is my limit. I’m so sorry. Have I offended you?”

“No. Not at all. It’s just that—”

“What, Sabrina?”

“I feel . . . so . . . tired. Might I lie down for a bit? I’m so sorry. I just . . .”

“It was a long drive down, actually. The traffic and everything. A nap before dinner is in order,” Lorelei said. “And if you don’t want to come down, a tray will be left outside your door. Get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll set out for a hike first thing in the morning.”

“Of course you may rest, dear,” Chyna said, concern clouding her perfectly sculpted features. “How rude of me. Lorelei, show your friend upstairs to her room. She’s in the Blue Room. Her overnight things are already laid out for her there.”

“The Blue Room?”

“Yes.”

“Right next to you?”

“I’m sorry. Did I not say the Blue Room clearly enough for you, Lorelei?”

LORELEI GRABBED SABRINA’S HAND AND
quickly led her from the room and along the flickering candlelit hall leading to the stairs. It was quite dark outside now, and someone had lit all the sconces in the hall. Was there someone else in the house? She’d heard no one. Odd.

“I’m so sorry,” Sabrina said as the two women made their way up the steep staircase. She just felt overwhelmingly tired. Not herself at all. Truth be told, she missed the comfort and solidity of Hawkesmoor. The cozy late-night chats with Pelham in the pantry while he did his needlepoint, the gossipy mood of the kitchen staff at the end of the day.

And she missed . . . Dear God, how she missed Alexei.

“I’m just not myself, I’m afraid. I’ve not been off on my own very much at all, you see.”

“Don’t be silly, darling. Everything’s going to be fine. Don’t let the dragon lady get to you, darling. It’s all an act, a show, her idea of drama. Get a good night’s sleep. You’ll wake up tomorrow, a brand-new girl to a brand-new world.”

Lorelei was kind and helped her unpack and put her few things in the dresser. She went round the room drawing the heavy drapes and turning out lights, pulling back the bedcovers. Once Sabrina had her flannel nightgown on and had brushed her teeth, Lorelei even tucked her into the boggy soft bed and held her hand for a few moments.

She must have dozed off for a moment.

“Drink this,” Lorelei said, offering her a small snifter of amber liquid. “Brandy. And a sleeping pill. It will help you nod off.”

“Oh, no, I never—”

“Sabrina, please, just do as I say, won’t you? I promise. You’ll feel right as rain come morning, won’t you, now? You’re tired, darling. You need your sleep.”

“Oh, all right. What the hell. I have had trouble sleeping, you know. I lie awake, listening for Alexei’s breathing all night long.”

She popped the sleeping pill and swallowed it with the brandy.

“Yes-yes, dear. Sleep tight and don’t let the bugs bite,” Lorelei said, crossing the room and closing the door behind her.

The room was black as coal, black as night.

Black, she thought, staring up in to the darkness, black as a raven’s wing.

C
H A P T E R
  5 3

W
hen she awoke next morning, things were somehow rather different at Nevermore Cottage.

The room was dim. Full of dark shadows. The heavy velvet drapes cloaking the seaside windows were still tightly drawn. The only specter of light seeped in through a half-opened door to the upstairs hallway. So hard to push sleep away. Her mouth was so dry. What she really wanted was a deep drink of water and then simply to close her eyes and return to slumber.

A noise—a whisper.

Lorelei. Sitting by her bedside holding her hand and gazing into her eyes. The lamp beside her bed was not lit, which was strange. Why would she come to her in the middle of the night? Was she ill? Had she cried out?

“Lorelei?” she said, not trusting her own eyes. Maybe this was a dream, too.

“You’re awake, Sabrina dear. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been kicked in the head,” she said, trying unsuccessfully both to sit up and to stifle a massive yawn. “What was in that pill?”

“Lorazepam. A mild sedative. You’ve been asleep for a long time.”

“Feel like I could have slept a millennium.”

“You almost did.”

“What?”

“You’ve been asleep all day, darling. You must have really needed it.”

“You’re joking, right?” she said, sitting straight up and looking at her watch. “I never sleep all day!”

For some reason, her watch had stopped. It was a Timex she’d had for decades. Odd. It had never stopped once. Takes a licking and keeps on ticking.

“Listen,” she said. “Someone’s playing. How beautiful.”

She could hear the faint sound of a piano somewhere in the house. Lovely. Someone was playing Bach.
The Well-Tempered Clavier
. Prelude no. 1 in C Major. It was her favorite piece of music on earth. She often played it herself when she was feeling low and no one was about.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Almost five.”

“In the morning?”

“No, darling. In the evening.”

“I slept all day? No. That’s not possible. I never do that.”

She sat straight up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

“Oh! What happened to my nightgown?”

“What do you mean?”

“The buttons. Down the front. Look, they’re all ripped.”

“How very odd. You must have done it in your sleep, darling. A nightmare perhaps. I shouldn’t worry too much about it . . .”

Sabrina stretched her arms above her head and yawned loudly. “I never sleep all day, I tell you. Ever.”

“Well, you did this time. We’ve been checking on you every hour all day long. Each time we found you sleeping peacefully, even snoring a wee bit. I wanted to wake you; it was a lovely morning to go for our walk along the sea.”