everything is planned weeks in advance and everyone follows the rules, that was what so enchanted Friedrich about her. She was like a summer wind through a house that had been closed up for centuries.”
“You like her,” Monk observed.
Stephan smiled. “I don’t think I would say I like her, but I am fascinated by her and by the effect she has on people.”
“Which is?”
Stephan glanced at him, his eyes bright. “Varied,” he replied. “The only thing it never is is indifferent.”
“How about Evelyn and Zorah?” Monk asked. “How did they like playing supporting roles to Gisela’s lead?”
Stephan’s expression was hard to read. “Evelyn can play the ingenue, or even a boy, rather well, which she did on this occasion. She was captivating. She managed to be boyish and utterly feminine at the same time.”
Monk could imagine it with pleasure. Evelyn’s mischievous face, with its youthful lines and wide eyes, and her completely womanly softness would make a beguiling youth full of appeal. Her slender figure would still be unmistakably female, even in masculine costume.
“I can’t see Zorah in that role,” he admitted, looking sideways at Stephan.
Stephan hesitated before he replied. They were several paces farther along the track when he spoke.
“No. She was cast as a loyal friend who carried the messages which furnished some of the plot.”
Monk waited, but Stephan did not add anything.
“Who was the hero?”
“Florent, of course.”
“And the villain?”
“Oh—I was.” He laughed. “Actually, I rather enjoyed it. Other people you don’t know took the minor parts. Brigitte did one of them; somebody’s mother, I think.”
Monk winced. Perhaps it had not been intended as cruel, but he perceived it so.
“Was it a success?”
“Enormously. Gisela was very good. She made up a bit of it as she went along. It was difficult for the others to follow, but it was so witty no one minded. The audience applauded wildly. And Florent was good as well. He seemed to know instinctively what to say or do to make it look natural.”
“And Zorah?”
Stephan’s expression changed; the amusement drained away, leaving unhappiness. “I’m afraid she did not enjoy it so much. She was the butt of a few of Gisela’s funnier remarks, but Friedrich was amused and hardly ever took his eyes from Gisela, and Zorah had the sense not to show her feelings.”
“But she was angry.”
“Yes, she was. However, she had her revenge the following day.” They climbed a dozen shallow stone steps to a grass walk and the shadow of the elms. “They all went riding,” he went on. “Gisela came in the gig. She doesn’t ride well, or care for it. Zorah is marvelous. She dared Florent to follow her over some very rough country, and they left Gisela behind in the gig and she came home alone. They arrived back an hour later, flushed and laughing, he with his arm around her. It was obvious they had had an excellent time.” He laughed, his eyes bright. “Gisela was furious.”
“I thought she was devoted to Friedrich?” Monk looked at him anxiously. “Why should she care if Zorah rode with Florent?”
Now Stephan was thoroughly amused.
“Don’t be naive!” he exclaimed. “Certainly, she was devoted to Friedrich, but she adored other admirers. It was part of her role as the great lover that all men should admire her. She is the woman for whom a throne was lost: always gorgeous, always desirable, always utterly happy. She had to be the center of the party, the most alluring, the one who could make everyone laugh at whatever she chose. She was terribly witty at dinner that evening, but Zorah was just as quick. It was a battle royal over the dinner table.”
“Unpleasant?” Monk asked, trying to visualize it and gauge the underlying emotion. Was her hatred really enough to prompt Zorah to fabricate this charge, or even to blind her to the truth and make her believe a lie because she wanted to? Was it all
Tanya Anne Crosby
Cat Johnson
Colleen Masters, Hearts Collective
Elizabeth Taylor
P. T. Michelle
Clyde Edgerton
The Scoundrels Bride
Kathryn Springer
Scott Nicholson, J.R. Rain
Alexandra Ivy