by Dean James
All heads turned in my direction as I entered the room, as if they had been waiting impatiently for my arrival. I scanned the room quickly. Nina Yaknova had not yet arrived, it seemed. Where was the dratted woman? Late, as usual.
With her hands clenched tightly in her lap, That Woman sat in a chair near the center of the room, not far from Lady Hermione and her shadow, Mary Monkley. Miss Monkley was scribbling industriously in a notebook as Lady Hermione issued instructions for some adjustments to tomorrow’s schedule of workshops.
Patty Anne Putney, beaming with goodwill and stroking Mr. Murbles constantly, approached me. I plastered a welcoming smile on my face.
“Mr. Murbles is so pleased with you, Dr. Kirby-Jones,” Patty Anne said, leaning close and whispering in the general direction of my left ear.
“And why is that?” I asked politely, eyeing the bunny dubiously.
“He heard that you put that dreadful woman in her place,” she responded, and one hand manipulated Mr. Murbles’s head, so that it seemed he was nodding in approbation at me.
“Delighted, I’m sure,” I said. She appeared unaffected by the tinge of sarcasm in my tone.
“Can you believe,” she whispered indignantly, “that dreadful woman had the nerve to tell Mr. Murbles our books are saccharine enough to send a diabetic into shock? How could she say something so hurtful to Mr. Murbles? Miss Edwina Aiken and Hodge are beloved by millions of readers, and that woman would do well to remember not everyone wants to read about a heroine like hers.”
The disdain in her voice caught me by surprise. “Why? What’s wrong with her?”
Patty Anne’s eyes widened in horror. “She smokes!”
I nodded, still perplexed.
“That’s not very ladylike, is it?” Patty Anne hissed at me, clearly pleased at having made her point.
If this woman’s balloon ever landed, I wanted to be present to see it.
“But apparently she didn’t write those books after all,” she continued. “Dreadful woman! Mr. Murbles doesn’t like her, not at all. He thinks she should be asked to leave Kinsale House immediately.”
“It won’t be long now before that happens,” I assured her. “As soon as Nina Yaknova arrives, the game will be up.”
Miss Putney drew back in horror. “Is she coming here?”
“Do you mean Nina?” I asked. “Yes, didn’t you see her name listed on your schedule?”
She shook her head violently. “No! Mr. Murbles and I wouldn’t be here at all if we knew she was going to be here.” Her grip on Mr. Murbles had tightened to the point that the poor bunny appeared to be choking.
“Is Nina your agent?” I asked, fascinated.
“She used to be,” Miss Putney hissed. “Before Mr. Murbles and I caught on to her vicious ways. She is not a lady! And she does not conduct herself in a way remotely becoming to one.”
Right on cue, Nina stormed in, Giles trailing in her wake and frowning mightily.
“Hermione, my dear, how are you?” Nina asked. She came to a halt in front of our hostess and waited, foot tapping, as Lady Hermione rose, then bent down to exchange air kisses with her. Conversation around us had ceased completely in anticipation of the fireworks.
“I’m delighted you finally managed to arrive, Nina,” Lady Hermione said. “We’ve been expecting you.”
They eyed each other as adversaries in the ring often do. I expected them to start circling any moment now, looking for a vulnerable spot for the knockout punch. Lady Hermione had the advantages of her superior height and breeding. Nina simply fought dirty.
“One does have a business to run, after all, Hermione,” Nina observed. “I couldn’t tell the prime minister to call back, just because talking to him would make me late for dear Lady Hermione’s little afternoon tea, now, could I?”
Lady Hermione’s lips tightened. Knowing Nina as I did, I doubted she was bluffing. Lady Hermione knew it, too.
“I’m sure you’re to be congratulated, Nina, on having signed the prime minister as a client. But I have a more pressing concern at the moment.”
“Thank you, Hermione. Now whatever is the matter? Has one of your little pets written a bestseller?” I could have smacked Nina myself for the patronizing air with which she delivered that last line.
Nina turned to Giles. “Tea, please. Black, two lumps.”
To his credit, Giles bit back a retort—no doubt about the lumps he would like to give her—and went to get her a cup of tea from the nearby cart. I would have a few choice words for her later on her manners—or rather, her lack of them.
“Now, you were saying...?” Nina affected a bored tone as she turned back to Lady Hermione. Giles had handed her a cup of tea, and she stirred it.
“There is a bit of a dispute we’re hoping that you can resolve, Nina,” Lady Hermione said, her voice remarkably controlled. “Professor Kirby-Jones claims that one amongst us is an impostor.”
“Simon, what on earth are you playing at?” Setting down her tea without having tasted it Nina turned toward me. “Stirring up a little drama, are we?”
“I suppose one could look at it that way, Nina, dearest,” I said, taking a few strides to stand beside her and looking down upon her gamine face. “Someone here is claiming to be one of your clients. Dorinda Darlington, in fact.”
Nina’s eyes flickered. She turned away from me and picked up her tea. As I watched, she walked over to where the faux Dorinda sat on a couch, and seated herself beside the impostor. She set down her cup of tea on the table in front of the couch.
“But, Simon, darling, you know Dorinda is one of my clients. There’s no pretense involved in that.”
The patronizing tone nettled me. She’d never before spoken to me in such fashion. “I know that, Nina, darling. Forgive me for being imprecise. Someone is here claiming to be Dorinda Darlington.” As if she didn’t know this already, from our conversation several days ago in her office.
“Really, Simon? How terribly interesting.” Nina couldn’t have looked more bored. “Who, pray tell?” With a sweep of my hand, I indicated the woman sitting beside her. Nina picked up her tea and took a sip before placing the cup back on the table.
“Hello, Dorinda, dearest,” Nina cooed. “Is Simon playing naughty games again?”
CHAPTER TEN
Treachery, thy name is Nina!
I was relieved to find that I had not spoken those words aloud. In fact, for once in my death, I had been struck speechless.
One could have heard the proverbial pin drop in the room after Nina’s words of greeting to That Woman. Then came a collective intake of breath before gabbling broke out all over the room. I was almost dizzy from the assault of words coming from all around me.
Nina had severely damaged my credibility. Lady Hermione now eyed me as if I were something just retrieved from the nearest rubbish tip. How on earth was I to respond to this, other than by outing myself as the real Dorinda Darlington? If I did, who would believe me now that Nina had spoken?
I made two quick decisions. The first was that I would find myself a new agent forthwith. Hitting Nina in the pocketbook was the only kind of threat she’d understand. Fortunately for me, I had nothing new under contract via Nina, so I was free to shop around for agents.
The second decision was that I would go along with Nina for the moment. She was playing some sort of deep game. I doubted it would be to my advantage, one way or another, but I’d hold my tongue and see how this all played out.
“Dr. Kirby-Jones!”
Lady Hermione rattled the rafters, as usual.
“Have you been playing some sort of game with us and baiting this poor young woman?” Lady Hermione’s expression boded nothing but ill for yours truly.
“No, Hermione, he has not!”
Isabella Veryan’s sudden defense of me was quite a surprise. I turned to look at her in astonishment.
Lady Hermione appeared just as startled as I. “Belle! What do you mean? What do you know about this?”
Isabella came to stand beside me, placing a reassuring hand on my arm. “I’ve not known Simon all that long, Hermione, but I’m an excellent judge of character, and if he says that woman is an impostor, then I believe him.” She tossed her head in the direction of Nina and Dorinda. “Moreover, that viper would swear the sun was shining in the midst of a torrential downpour if it suited her purposes.”
Oh ho, I thought. Bad blood between Isabella and Nina. Who would have thought it?
“Dear Isabella, so forthright as always.” Nina’s voice slid lazily forth, like the hiss of the viper Isabella had called her. “I had forgotten how dearly you love to hold on to a grudge, no matter how misguided.”
“That’s doing it up a bit brown, Nina.” George Austen-Hare had entered the fray. Now I had him on one side of me and Dame Isabella on the other. “We all know what you did to Isabella over the rights to her backlist when she changed publishers. Nothing short of criminal, that was. No wonder she left you. Bloody piracy, that’s what it was!”
I had had no idea Isabella was no longer a client of Nina’s. Nina certainly hadn’t advertised that fact; it must be a fairly recent development.
Nina’s eyes narrowed at George’s barb, and I thought for a moment she would come off the sofa and attack poor George with her bare hands. Instead, she settled for something deadlier.
“Ah, George, George,” she cooed. “I truly am delighted that you’re still able to peddle your male sex fantasies under the guise of romantic suspense. I didn’t mind the money, frankly, but your feeble attempts at getting me in bed were more than I could bear. I hear you don’t have that problem with your current agent.” Her mouth twisted in a moue of distaste. “The poor dear must be truly desperate for clients to have to stoop so low.”
I could feel the sheer rage boiling within poor Austen-Hare. I couldn’t blame him. I had seen Nina nasty before, but nothing to compare with this. She was begging to be murdered, and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone obliged at the rate she was going.
I had also had no idea that George Austen-Hare had defected, along with Isabella Veryan. No wonder Nina was so thrilled to have Ashford Dunn signed up now.
“Oh, come on, man,” Dexter Harbaugh spoke up. “Slap the silly bitch, and be done with it” He knocked back the rest of his drink, set his glass down upon a table, and ambled over to stand in front of George, Isabella, and me, facing Nina. “She just needs a little knocking around. Show her who’s boss. She works for us, after all. Where would she be without writers?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dexter,” George snapped. “I’ve never struck a woman, not even one who tries to provoke me in such a vulgar manner.”
“Yes, Dexter, don’t be ridiculous,” Nina said, her voice hard. “If you had the balls to actually strike a woman, you wouldn’t write about it so lovingly in your books. Talk about living vicariously!” She began laughing uproariously.
Dexter Harbaugh’s back went rigid. Like George moments before, he simmered with rage. Taking a step forward, he picked up Nina’s cup of tea from the table and dashed its contents into her face. Nina stopped laughing and started yowling.
Dorinda screamed and jumped up from the couch. “You animal! You could have blinded her!” Before anyone realized what she was doing, she stepped around the table and laid into Dexter Harbaugh with one slap after another. Harbaugh was too dazed at first to respond. Then his fists started flailing back at her. It took Giles and me several moments to get the two of them separated.
“Enough!” Lady Hermione bellowed, and I’d swear that all of Kinsale House shook as if it had been hit by an earthquake.
“This is an utter disgrace!” Thankfully, Lady Hermione dropped her decibel level considerably. “I am appalled—utterly and entirely appalled—by your behavior. All of you!” She paused. She was so angry her chest was heaving with the exertion of breathing.
“Dr. Kirby-Jones, Nina, I want the two of you to stay. The rest of you are dismissed, for the moment. Go to your rooms, and consider what you’ve said and done here. I will speak to each of you, after I have decided whether to continue with this week’s conference.”
The whole roomful of people had frozen into place.
“Dismissed!” Lady Hermione barked again. Mary Monkley cowered behind her. Patty Anne Putney took Dexter Harbaugh by the arm, murmuring in his ear—soothingly, no doubt—while Mr. Murbles remained his imperturbable self. They led him out of the room. Isabella Veryan and George Austen-Hare strode arm in arm behind them, with Norah Tattersall trailing in their wake. Ashford Dunn, who had hovered silently near Nina during the foregoing fracas, lingered at the doorway, gazing back and forth from Nina to the fake Dorinda.
“I think perhaps I should be here, too, Lady Hermione,” That Woman said, her voice quavering.
“I think not,” Lady Hermione said.
“Come on,” Ashford Dunn said, grabbing at Dorinda’s arm. “Idiot!” he hissed at her in an undertone. I could hear him, but I doubted either Nina or Lady Hermione could. “You’ll ruin everything. Come on!”
Dorinda stood, wavering, but Ashford Dunn took hold of her and pulled her from the room.
Now only Nina and I were left in the room with our irate hostess.
Nina had wiped the tea from her eyes and face, though her eyes continued to stream with tears.
“Dr. Kirby-Jones,” Lady Hermione addressed me in a calmer tone, “do you have any amendment to your accusation?”
I shook my head. “No, Lady Hermione. I still maintain that the woman claiming to be Dorinda Darlington is an impostor. I am prepared, if necessary, to prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
“Nina, do you have anything you would like to say?”
“No, Hermione, dear, I have nothing to add.” Nina affected nonchalance, but I knew she was doing a masterful job of concealing her anger.
“I will get to the bottom of this,” Lady Hermione vowed, “and whichever of you is lying to me will regret it. Have no doubt of that.” She drew a deep breath. “Now, if you will be so kind as to leave me.” She turned to her secretary. “Brandy, Mary, if you please.”
As Mary Monkley scurried to fulfill her employer’s bidding, Lady Hermione leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Her face had turned ashen, and I wondered whether calling a doctor might be in order. Now, however, would not be the moment to suggest that, I decided. I left her to the tender mercies of Mary Monkley.
Neither Nina nor I said a word as we left the room. Once I had closed the door behind us, however, I caught Nina’s arm and spun her around to face me.
“What the hell was all that about, Nina? What’s going on here?”
Ashford Dunn chose that moment to erupt from somewhere nearby. “Take your hands off her!”
“Call off your boy toy, Nina, and answer my question.” I stared at the two of them. Dunn had wrapped an arm protectively around Nina’s padded shoulders, while Nina smirked at me.
“You don’t have to pay any attention to him, Nina.” Dunn glared daggers at me.
My own knight-errant made his entrance upon that cue. “Oh, come off it, barrow boy.” The withering contempt in Giles’s voice made Dunn blanch, even though he probably hadn’t a clue as to what Giles meant by that derogatory term. “The woman obviously has bigger balls than you do. I doubt she really needs some jumped-up johnny from the cornfields of Iowa to fight her battles for her.”
“Now it’s your boy toy to the rescue, Simon.” Nina laughed. “And here I thought he was just good for fetching tea, eh, Giles?”
“That’s Sir Giles to you and your little gutter-snipe.” Normally Giles eschews his lord-of-the-manor status—after all, he’s a mere baronet—but when he wants to, he can sound intolerably upper crust.
“Oh, my,” Nina said, unimpressed. “Sir Boy Toy. Lah-dinda.”
Giles wasn’t fazed. “You’re so good at sticking knives in other people’s backs, it’s a pity someone hasn’t performed the same service for you.”
Nina laughed.
“Dear me, it has teeth. And it can bite. Oh, I’m terrified.”
All this time, Dunn had been fuming silently. “I ought to thrash you, you upper-class poof!” I wonder how long it had taken him to come up with something that breathtakingly trite.
“Save your energy for Nina’s bedroom.” Giles refused to be drawn.
“Enough!” I said, though I had actually been rather amused by their little catfight—amused enough that my own temper had cooled a bit. “I’m still waiting for an explanation, Nina. What’s going on here?”
“Now, Simon, that would be telling, wouldn’t it?” Nina batted her eyes flirtatiously at me, and I could feel Giles tensing beside me. “You’ll just have to trust me, won’t you?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can.”
“You really have no choice.” Nina dropped the casual manner. She shook off Ashford Dunn’s arm, startling him. “I’m going out on the terrace for a smoke, since Hermione has the fits if anyone smokes inside Kinsale House. I’ll talk to you later, Simon.” She turned to Dunn for a moment “Ash, dear, we’ll talk about your new contract later. Now, why don’t you go upstairs and get some work done on your new book? That deadline is coming up, and we wouldn’t want to miss it, now, would we?”
“Yes, Nina,” Dunn said docilely. No doubt about who held the reins there. He headed for the stairs, pausing long enough to direct a baleful stare in Giles’s direction. Nina, without a backward glance, walked down the hallway and through a door. I hadn’t yet seen the terrace at Kinsale House, but presumably, Nina knew how to find it. I noted the door through which she had gone; I’d go after her in a few minutes.
“What are you going to do, Simon? What the hell is she playing at, do you think?” Giles turned to me, his handsome brow furrowed in irritation.
“I’m not sure what’s going on, Giles,” I said, “but you can bet I’m going to get to the bottom of it. Nina’s devious, which it didn’t take me long to discover. That’s probably a good quality for an agent to have, especially one as high-powered as Nina. But I hadn’t expected this level of duplicity.”