“I’ve got you now, Northcote!” the other combatant cried. With deadly intent, the gleaming length of steel in his hand descended toward Ben’s chest.
“No!” Diana screamed.
Ben’s opponent pulled back, whirling around to stare at her.
Diana ran full tilt across the grass, reaching him before he could resume his attack. Without stopping to think of the danger to herself, she swung her gripsack at him, striking him on the shoulder. He swore at her and dropped his weapon. Her second blow caught him on the side of the head, causing him to fall to his knees. She followed up with a kick, wincing in pain when her toe connected with his chest.
“Diana! Enough!” Ben’s strong arms caught her about the waist, hauling her away from the other man. “Are you all right, Graham?”
Diana twisted her head around until she could see Ben’s face. His eyes gleamed. His mustache trembled and his lips twitched. He was trying very hard not to
laugh
!
With dawning dismay, Diana realized she had misinterpreted what she had seen. Relief battled with chagrin. Ben had been in no danger. And she had just struck down his oldest friend. A wave of embarrassment engulfed her, heating her cheeks, but she forced herself to face Graham Somener.
He’d retrieved his rapier and staggered to his feet. Clutching the side of his head with one hand, he raised the blade with the other, fully prepared to use it to defend himself. A ferocious expression distorted his face. Suddenly terrified, Diana took shelter behind Ben’s reassuring bulk. The breath backing up in her throat made speech impossible.
Ben spoke sharply: “Graham, enough!”
The enraged expression vanished, but just to be on the safe side, Ben reached out and confiscated the fencing foil. Only then did Diana realize that she’d never been in any real danger. Nor had he. The point of the weapon was blunted with a leather button.
Even knowing she was safe, Diana’s insides quivered like freshly unmolded gelatin. Her hands trembled, too, and in a moment she feared she’d be shaking all over. To avoid that ignominious fate, she focused on the man she’d attacked.
Like Ben, Somener was tall, well-built, and dark haired. Unlike Ben, he wore fencing garb, a salient fact she’d failed to notice in her earlier agitation. He was dressed in low leather shoes, snugly tailored trousers, and a short jacket with a standing collar and buttons down the side. The fabric was pale gray and heavy. Neither man, however, wore a face mask. If they had, Diana thought, she’d have realized at once that they were engaged in an épée bout and not trying to kill each other.
“This is my fiancée, Diana Spaulding, Graham. I’d consider it a personal favor if you did not skewer her.”
Somener had himself under control, but his icy expression was anything but conciliatory. Like Ben, he had a beard and mustache, but where Ben kept his neatly trimmed, Somener had clearly not visited a barber in some time. The result was an unkempt thicket that made him look less than civilized.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Somener,” Diana said. Her voice came out as a tremulous squeak.
“How did you get to Keep Island?” Somener demanded. “I told Captain Cobb no visitors. And the guard—”
“Didn’t see me,” Diana interrupted. She swallowed convulsively. This was not how she’d imagined her reunion with Ben would go, or her first meeting with the wealthy recluse, Graham Somener. “Your captain did his job.” Gradually, her voice steadied. “I found alternate transportation. A boy with a small sailboat. I’m sorry to invade your privacy by coming here unannounced and uninvited, but it was imperative that I speak to Ben.”
Ben’s amusement vanished. “Is everyone all right? Aaron? My—”
She hastened to reassure him. “No one is hurt or ill.” She glanced at Somener, who was still regarding her with intense dislike and considerable suspicion. “May we speak in private? The matter is ... personal.”
“This is Graham’s house, his island,” Ben reminded her.
“Go wherever you want,” Somener snarled. “I need to have a word with my worthless excuse for a watchman.” The guard, looking astonished to see Diana, had just appeared at the edge of the lawn.
“The parlor is quite pleasant,” Ben suggested. “Or the library.” He seemed to notice her dishevelment for the first time. “Or perhaps you would like the opportunity to freshen up?”
“Why are there armed guards?” she hissed at him.
“It’s a long story, but I can promise that no one will shoot you. Come inside, Diana. Put yourself to rights while I change my shirt and find my jacket. Then we can discuss why you came here.”
A short while later, Ben watched Diana move away from the porch. From his window he had a bird’s eye view of more than half the island. She was easy to track as she retreated—a bright spot of red moving without much sense of direction through a landscape of artfully arranged shrubs and flowers. If she kept going, she’d probably end up on the promontory.
Behind him he heard Graham stomp into the room. “Why is she here?” he demanded.
“I won’t know that until I talk to her.”
Graham came up beside him, his glower fading slightly as he stared at the rapidly moving female figure below. “Good-looking woman.” He sounded grudging.
“Yes.” Beautiful, to Ben’s mind, with her wide-spaced blue eyes and her soft skin and that glorious mahogany-colored hair. But he loved her mind as well, and that quick, unpredictable, impetuous streak that so often led her into trouble.
“Can you control her?”
“Yes.”
It was simpler to reassure Graham and deal with Diana later, but Ben wished he’d never told his friend that Diana was employed by the
Independent Intelligencer
. The New York City scandal sheet had a bad reputation, well deserved in Ben’s opinion. He’d felt he should warn Graham that although Diana had given up reporting on theatrical gossip and on crime, she now intended to focus on interviews.
It was her plan to write about Maine’s nationally-known summer residents, calling her column “Profiles of the Rich and Famous.” Even though Graham lived on Keep Island year round, Diana meant to make an exception in his case. Ben had seen the gleam in her eyes when he’d put Graham’s name on the list of wedding guests and identified him as the architect who had designed several important buildings in Boston. He had not told her why Graham had given up his career.
“Damnation!” Graham swore. “It only needed this!”
“Settle down. She’s not going to cause trouble.”
Graham’s face was a study in conflict. He wanted to believe Ben but he’d learned the hard way not to trust reporters.
At least his self-control was better, Ben thought. That uncertain temper flared quickly, but he had given himself healthy outlets to vent the anger. Swearing aloud, even in the presence of ladies, was one. Fencing was another, although he rarely found an opponent here on the island. A pity Diana had interrupted the bout, but all in all Ben was relieved by the way Graham had reacted. Only for a moment had he been dangerous.
“We’ll both leave this afternoon,” Ben promised as he finished tying his cravat. “My three patients have recovered well. In fact, they are clamoring to go back to work.”
“How much will you tell her?”
“All of it.”
“Are you mad?”
Ben shrugged into his jacket. “Would you prefer she investigate on her own? Perhaps draw false conclusions?”
“I want her off my island and I don’t want anyone else coming here, especially reporters.”
“I’ll handle it,” Ben promised.
Ten minutes later, he located Diana just where he’d thought she’d be—on the promontory, staring out at the water. He paused to appreciate the view, but not the same one he’d so often admired. Today he only had eyes for Diana. The brine-scented breeze caught at her glorious red-brown hair, freeing several thick strands from the knot she’d tried to force them into. Wisely, she’d removed her hat before it could blow away. She held it in one hand and shaded her eyes with the other.
“I overreacted,” she said when he reached her side.
“You have a gift for understatement.”
“I saw a man, a stranger, coming at you with a weapon. I’d just caught a glimpse of another man armed with a gun and clearly on patrol. What was I supposed to think?”
The catch in her voice had him clasping her to him and holding her tight. He spoke to the top of her head, since she seemed fascinated by the middle button on his coat. “Diana, what’s wrong? Why did you come here?”
“I was concerned about you. Your mother is too. And my mother—well, never mind what she’s been saying.”
“You’ve had to cope with both of them without me. I’m sorry for that.”
“And I didn’t sleep a wink last night.” She made a strangled sound. “What pitiful excuses! You must be thoroughly put out with me. I realize it was unpardonably rude of me to show up here unannounced, but you vanished without a trace, which was even more inconsiderate. Was it too much trouble to write to me once you got here? I’ve been worried sick. And then I thought he was trying to kill you. I—”
“But I did,” he interrupted. “I wrote to you on Tuesday, after I arrived here and realized my services as a doctor would be needed for several days.”
“I received no letter.”
“It should have reached you on Wednesday.” She looked skeptical but said nothing. “I wrote, Diana. I did. Why would I want to cause you unnecessary worry?”
Or risk you’d come looking for me?
“And what,” she asked in a chilly voice, “was so important that it took you away from your regular patients. It can’t have been Graham Somener who was sick. Your friend looks the picture of health.”
“It wasn’t Graham who was ill.”
He hesitated, not because he didn’t trust her with his friend’s secrets, but because he was wondering what had happened to that letter.
“Well?” Diana prompted. “Who is your patient? What’s wrong with him?”
He’d value her opinion, Ben realized. She’d give them a fresh perspective on the situation. “Not him. Them. The letter I sent you didn’t give any specifics. I didn’t want you involved in this. I didn’t think you’d want to be.”
“Explain.”
“Do you remember what you said to me a little over three weeks ago? About not wanting anything more to do with crime?” She nodded. “I believe there has been a crime committed here, Diana. A particularly insidious one, if I am correct in my assumptions.”
She did not look surprised. “Go on.”
“There is an archaeological excavation on the island. You can see where they are working from there.” He gestured toward the promontory. “Come and have a look.”
Diana hesitated, then moved closer to the railing, wincing as she put weight on her right foot.
He could have predicted she’d balk at first. He knew she did not like heights. But the expression of pain was both unexpected and alarming. “What’s wrong?” He came up beside her, taking her elbow to guide her to a nearby boulder the right height for sitting.
Even through her jacket and the blouse beneath, he felt her muscles tense when he touched her. As soon as she sat down, she jerked her arm free.
“It’s nothing,” she insisted.
“Did you fall?”
Her color deepened. Huffing out a breath, avoiding his eyes, she mumbled her answer. “I bruised my toe when I kicked your friend.”
Fighting a smile, he risked sitting beside her. He resisted the urge to lift her injured foot onto his lap and massage it for her. He contented himself with inhaling
Eau de Gardenia
.
Her gaze drifted back to the promontory. “Tell me about the excavation and how it is connected to crime. What are they looking for? Indian relics?”
“An archaeologist friend of Graham’s is searching for evidence of an early settlement and a long-ago shipwreck.”
The water looked deceptively peaceful, a pretty picture. But Ben had seen it during a fierce gale. On this side of the island there were hidden ledges everywhere.
“Only days after the work began, several of the archaeologists began to complain of dizziness and nausea. All of them were lethargic. One suffered bouts of unconsciousness. Another couldn’t stop vomiting.”
“That’s why Graham sent for you.”
Ben nodded, even though it was not a question.
“What illness afflicted them?” She sat very still, but tension radiated from her as she waited for his answer.
“Graham assumed it was bad meat or shellfish. Or tinned food that had gone off. He asked me to come in secret because he shies away from publicity.” Ben didn’t mention the curse on the island. It was too preposterous and he knew the real reason Graham was so leery of wild rumors.
“And was it something they had eaten?”
“In a way. They’d been systematically dosed with morphine, most likely added to their food. They were poisoned, Diana. If Graham hadn’t sent for me when he did, they might all be dead by now.”
Chapter Three
Ben’s announcement left Diana uncharacteristically speechless. She tried to think how this might fit in with what Mr. Palmer had told her but she could make no sense of it.
While she’d brushed her clothes, washed her hands and face, and repinned her hair she’d debated whether or not to tell Ben what the detective had said. She hadn’t yet decided what to do when she’d ventured back outside. She’d been hoping a dose of fresh air would clear her head ... and she’d wanted to avoid running into Graham Somener again.
She’d been certain Ben would find her wherever she wandered, as he had. Now, however, she had to wonder if she had been wise to leave the safety of the house.
“Are you saying that someone attempted to murder those men?”
“I believe that is the case, yes. I am completely certain of my diagnosis,” he added in a tired voice, “but over the last few days Graham has convinced himself that I must be mistaken. He didn’t want to believe me to begin with, since we could discover no reason why anyone would want to kill those men, and since nothing else has happened ....”
“And yet he posted guards.”
“A compromise. I wanted him to send for the sheriff. He agreed to ban visitors from the island and assign two of the groundskeepers he employs as watchmen.” He sent a wry grimace in her direction. “Apparently more stringent measures are needed. If you managed to land on Keep Island unseen, making no effort to hide your presence, then any number of strangers could have arrived in secret before you did and even now be lurking in the bushes.”