Deadly Treasures. Vivian Conroy

own way.

      ‘I certainly would not want to disappoint my father as he has taken the time off from his quest in India to write to you and you have come out here especially to invite me.’ She smiled. ‘I can’t guarantee that there will be any connection between us. I’m sure we will have a lot to talk about, but you can’t force feelings. I do assure you, however, I’ll speak with Duncan about his prospects.’

      The viscount nodded. ‘Handle it the way you see fit. You’re sensible enough. But we just don’t want to see Duncan married on a whim to someone who is only after his money.’

      Alkmene nodded. ‘I’ll do anything in my power to prevent that. I’ll pack my things and be ready to leave in a day or two. Depending on how much I’ll have to take and what other precautions might be necessary?’

      ‘Precautions?’ the viscount asked with a puzzled expression.

      ‘Well, of course I would have to bring protection against the sunshine and perhaps against disease? Are there no mosquitoes there with a lethal sting? Or other exotic creatures?’ Most ladies would faint at the idea of snakes and scorpions, but Alkmene considered them natural hazards that common sense should deal with. No doubt Duncan would have some tips for her to avoid trouble.

      The viscount shook his head. ‘Not as far as I know. You won’t need much more than you do here in London. Packing shouldn’t take long.’ He emptied his coffee cup and rose. ‘I do appreciate you seeing me right now and agreeing to my plan.’

      He consulted his pocket watch. ‘As you don’t need to do much packing, I’ll send my driver Kramer for you in the morning. Around ten. It is only fair he should take you there so you need not hire a car or travel by train. I’m not even sure any train goes as far as that little hamlet.’

      Alkmene rose as well, her eyes narrowing. ‘Little hamlet? Train?’

      The viscount was already at the door. He turned with his hand resting on the knob. ‘Cornwall, my dear. Duncan is excavating a medieval village in Cornwall.’

       Chapter Two

      Alkmene leaned back in the padding of the viscount’s car, the latest Buick, fresh from America.

      The driver, in full livery, kept his eyes on the road ahead. It was too bad he ignored her completely because Alkmene had the impression from the few words he had exchanged with Brookes that he was German and she had always wanted to know more about the Black Forest.

      Sort of a sinister place it seemed to be.

      Nothing like Cornwall.

      Of course Alkmene should have shouted no way, the moment the word Cornwall had been said. But after she had affirmed she was eager to do her father’s bidding, as the old dear had written all the way from India, she couldn’t say no.

      Gritting her teeth, she had closed the front door behind the broad back of the viscount who had so easily lured her into his trap. She should have realized her father would never ever let her go anywhere exciting. He had only written to an old friend and confidant to make a stupid plan to get his daughter to marry the other’s son, thereby solving their mutual problems in a single stroke.

      The only good thing about the debacle was that Duncan would never ever want to marry her and whether they met in Cornwall or the Himalayas, she’d not come back engaged.

      Still, she would have rather visited the Himalayas.

      Alkmene pursed her lips in self-depreciation. It was just like her to want to sail the Nile and end up in a meadow staring into a hole full of pottery shards. The only good thing about it was that Jake Dubois didn’t know. By the time he’d come back from Plymouth she’d be in Blackcastle, and he’d have no idea.

      She had put his notes on the serial poisoner in a sealed envelope, for Brookes to hand back to Jake if he came to see her. She had instructed the butler to tell Mr Dubois that she had left town on an urgent errand for a friend of her father’s and would not be back for some time.

      She had not told Brookes in so many words that Mr Dubois was not to know where she had gone to, but the staff’s loyalty was beyond question, and Jake had already alienated Brookes by his impolite behaviour on an earlier occasion. The butler would never tell him a thing, so she was perfectly safe from Jake’s scorn over her journey.

      Still, it was too bad Jake was not here beside her, so they could discuss the poison case. It had left so many questions in her mind. Investigating murder with him was almost more exciting than seeing the pyramids.

      It would certainly have been more exciting than seeing Duncan, who would just insult her again.

      Alkmene raised a hand to check on her hair. Duncan had often teased her when she was a girl about her unruly hair and ungainly walk. His sister Delphine had been considered a little beauty even at eight, destined to court the interest of princes and dukes, and compared to her, Alkmene had always felt second-rate.

      On her way now to face a man she had no intention of pleasing, she caught herself wanting him to admire her anyway, if only to make up for all the scorn he had unleashed on her in the past. Even so it would be easier if he still loathed her, for if he suddenly saw something in her and started courting her in earnest, their families would push them to no end to go on with it.

      Why had she gotten herself entangled in this mess?

      To distract herself Alkmene leaned forward and asked the driver, ‘Is it very far still?’

      ‘I do not know.’ He pursed his lips as if every word cost money.

      ‘But you must have made this journey before. Has the family never gone to see Duncan on site?’

      ‘I drove him out here in the spring when he began his work.’ The driver kept his eyes on the road ahead, speaking in the monotone words of someone reciting a lesson. ‘I asked him if he didn’t need a car while he was here, but he said he wanted to walk more, to improve his stamina.’

      ‘But the land is so wide,’ Alkmene observed, looking out of the side window at the patchwork blanket of meadows and cornfields, separated by lines of trees. ‘Walking is fine, but I don’t see that every distance can be crossed by walking.’

      ‘I said so too. But he wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t take one servant from his father’s household with him.’

      Alkmene heard the undertone in the words and understood the implication at once.

      Determined not to look as if she was pouncing on this interesting tidbit, she kept her eyes on the land that was soaking up the sunshine. She said casually, ‘He took the job here to get away from his family?’

      The driver was silent.

      Alkmene was certain she had been too blunt and should have drawn him out by more subtle means. She just didn’t seem to have that gift.

      Then the driver said, ‘Not to get away from anybody, but to be with someone, rather.’

      Alkmene froze. Suddenly an alarm bell was ringing in the back of her mind. ‘And his family knew this?’

      The driver nodded. ‘They suspect.’

      Aw, no.

      Alkmene sank back in the padding. She had easily believed her father had written to his old friend from India to discuss his only daughter who really did need a man, if only because the acquaintances were talking and it was never nice to be the object of gossip in town.

      But now she saw a bigger truth. Her father’s letter had been a reply to an urgent cry for help sent by that old friend. The viscount had confided in Father that his son, his hope for the future, had fallen in love with an unsuitable woman, someone he was courting by using his excavation work as an excuse. Perhaps the lady lived in these remote parts, but it was more likely she had taken up residence here for the summer to be able to meet with Duncan away from prying eyes in London.