India Black and the Rajah's Ruby by Carol K. Carr Read Free Book Online Page A

queer again.”
    I waved a hand. “No, thank you. I shall be alright now. Perhaps the food was too rich for me at dinner.”
    She backed out of the room and closed the door. Philip stood uncertainly at the foot of the bed.
    “Are you really feeling better?”
    I smiled reassuringly. “I am. Most extraordinary thing. It came over me so quickly, just as it did you before dinner.”
    He looked doubtful for a moment. “Well, at least we’re both on the mend.”
    “I expect we’ll feel fine tomorrow.”
    “Yes, I expect so.” He glanced at the door. “As neither of us is well tonight, I believe I’ll sleep in the other room.”
    “I think that would be best,” I said, and meant it.
    “I’ll say goodnight then.” He pressed his lips to my cheek.
    “Goodnight, Philip. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    “Yes. In the morning.” He looked rather unsteady as he retreated to his own room.
    I turned over, arranged my pillows, and slept like a baby that night.
    I sleep later than most, working as I do until the wee hours of the morning, and if you want me to be up at dawn to see the sunrise or stalk a stag with you, it’s best if we just stay up on the night preceding the festivities. Consequently, I was still communing with Somnus the next morning when a hellish racket in the hallway made me sit up in bed, looking wildly about for the first signs of flame or smoke. Nothing less than a roaring inferno could have produced the shouts and screams and running footsteps I heard outside my door. It was dark as a tomb in my room so my first order of business was to open the curtains and look at the clock on the mantel. It was a bit after nine. I yawned and slipped into a dressing gown before opening the door. Harold White was stalking down the hall, banging on doors and bellowing like an enraged bull. His minion, the pallid Ford, scurried in his wake, followed closely by Ashton. White brushed past me.
    “What is it?” I asked Ford as he scuttled past. He shot me a filthy look and I retreated a step. Ashton gave me a warning glance. The first prickle of unease touched the nape of my neck.
    White had ploughed to a halt outside Philip’s bedroom and now he went to work on the stout oak door. “Come out of there, you rascal,” he thundered. The door shivered beneath his blows.
    I caught Ashton’s arm. “What the devil is going on?”
    “The ruby’s gone.”
    My hand went to my throat. “The ruby?”
    “Yes, the bloody ruby. It’s disappeared.”
    “But how—”
    “I believe your ‘husband’ may be able to answer that question.” Ford had invested the word with such sarcasm that I felt sure he’d tumbled to my true identity. This did not bode well. Neither did the fact that Philip had failed to open his door. White was frothing at the mouth by now, howling obscenities and cataloguing the painful acts he proposed to inflict upon Philip as soon as he laid hands on the “yellow-bellied son of a bitch.”
    “What makes you think Philip knows anything about the ruby?” I asked. I was hoping Philip would open the door soon, his hair tousled and rubbing sleep from his eyes, but I had a sinking feeling that he would not.
    “The ruby disappeared sometime after Mr. White showed it to the guests and returned it to the safe in his room. The only time he was away from his room was when he was downstairs with the rest of us. And as Mr. Ashton has so rightly pointed out, your ‘husband’ was the only person who was absent during this period. He has some explaining to do. Where is he?” Ford batted his pale lashes furiously.
    White shouted again, smashing his fist against the door and making it quiver.
    Ashton put a restraining hand on White’s arm. “Allow me,” he said, and planted an elegant boot against the lock. The door shivered, but held. Ashton struck again and the wood around the lock splintered. One more kick and the door flew open.
    White was first in, followed by Ford and Ashton. I heard an incoherent roar