Free A Collector of Hearts by Sally Quilford Page A

By the time she had found Mrs
Oakengate and helped her to the dining room, reality hit her. He was the
grandson of a rich hotel magnate, and she was not only a servant, but also the
daughter of two notorious spies. What had Mrs Oakengate and the prince said?
That one must stick to one’s own kind. As much as she disapproved, she was
forced to admit they were probably right, to a certain extent. After all, the
prince’s father had married a chambermaid and it had not worked out at all.
Would it work if she did run away with Blake? Or would he soon tire of her, and
find distractions amongst his own class as it was rumoured the prince’s father
had?
                She sat down to eat her lunch and looked around her. Who
did she really know in this room? Mrs Oakengate, of course. But she would
hardly be trying to steal her own diamond, unless for insurance purposes, and
that seemed a little far fetched. There would be much easier ways to have it
stolen than coming to an abbey in the middle of nowhere for a week.
    Anna Anderson, she knew a
little, but even so, Anna had been with Caroline when they saw someone up in
the bedroom window, so that ruled her out. She did not know the actress Anna
worked for at all, but had a feeling the girl would be far too stupid to find
her way through the secret passage.
    Neither did she know much
about the Hendersons, though it occurred to her that the cost of hiring the
abbey, and of putting on the week’s entertainment suggested they had enough
money already so did not need to steal the Cariastan Heart. Not that it ruled
them out completely. Sometimes even people with a lot of money wanted even more
of it. And Jack Henderson was looking a bit worried. However, that might be
because the owner had suddenly turned up. It was hard to feel at home in
someone else’s house, especially if one feels the owner might be looking over
one’s shoulder.
    Count Chlomsky was a bit of
a mystery, but he had known Mrs Oakengate for many years, and besides, Caroline
could not imagine such an elderly gentleman managing the climb up and down the
steps in the secret passageway.
    There were other guests
whose names she had all but forgotten, having had the briefest of conversation
with them, and then only passing comments on the dreadful weather and how
charming their hosts were. It could be anyone of them. A clever burglar would
probably not draw attention to themselves, so may well stay on the sidelines.
The problem was that every one of the guests knew that the Cariastan Heart was
going to be there. It had been reported in the gossip columns.
      Blake joined them all a few minutes later,
winking across the table at her. She smiled, because she could do little else
when with him. He made life interesting and exciting.
                “Caroline,” said Mrs Oakengate. “I have a little surprise
for you later.”
                “Really?”
                “Yes, I’m tired of seeing you in that plain black satin
thing. I’ve got you something to wear to the masked ball tonight.”
                “Oh … erm … thank you, Mrs Oakengate.” Caroline was
flummoxed. It was very unlike Mrs Oakengate to show such generosity. Perhaps,
she thought, she had been a little unkind to her employer.
                “It will be a hoot for everyone,” said Mrs Oakengate.
Caroline liked the sound of that less. She hoped that Mrs Oakengate had not
bought her some silly clown or vampire outfit, but it seemed clear she was not
allowed to ask.
                “What are you going to be dressed as, Mrs Oakengate?”
asked Anna Anderson.
                “I shall just come as myself, wearing a mask. I am too
old for fancy dress costumes. I shall leave that to the younger generation. And
you, Your Highness?” Mrs Oakengate turned to the prince. “What shall you wear?”
                “I shall be wearing my heart on my sleeve for you,