“Dear God, how he pampered me. But he also was the most generous man alive. He contributed to so many charities.” Her expression changed as she examined the bracelet carefully. “It doesn’t look right,” she said. “There’s something about the diamonds—they don’t have that beautiful hint of blue anymore.”
She glanced up at Brenda and saw the look of consternation and fear that came over her face. What’s the matter with her? Lady Em asked herself, then looked back at the bracelet. It’s not the one Richard gave me, she thought. I know it isn’t. I haven’t worn so much of my jewelry in years, she thought. Is it possible she’s been stealing it and substituting it with junk?
In that moment she was sure she was right. Don’t let her know that you know, she warned herself. “Well, you can use the polishing cloth to brighten it up when you get a chance, Brenda,” she said, “and if that doesn’t work, I’ll have Celia Kilbride give it a deep cleaning when we get home.”
Lady Em sighed. “I’ve had enough of playing with my jewelry. I think I’ll rest for a bit. I’ve asked Roger to stop by at eleven o’clock. I want to have a private chat with him. Why don’t you take some time for yourself?”
32
After the ceremony with Devon Michaelson, Celia half-willingly agreed to join Alvirah and Willy for lunch in the buffet dining room. “I read that you can get everything from sushi to Chinese food to Central European,” Alvirah told her.
They would meet at one o’clock in the restaurant, and beforehand she took a long walk around the promenade deck.
When she returned to her stateroom, she showered, dressed in blue slacks and a blue-and-white top, ordered breakfast and went over her notes for her lectures. Today she would talk about other fabled jewels through the ages and the histories of individual pieces of jewelry that had been given in love, appeasement or as a bribe.
One of the stories was about the elegant wife of William Randolph Hearst, who discovered that her husband had built San Simeon castle for his mistress, the actress Marion Davies. Celia went over what she would say in her head.
“?‘When he was beginning the newspaper business, I was there, and I gave him five sons,’?” Ms. Hearst was reported to have said to a friend. Then she went to Tiffany’s and ordered a magnificent long pearl necklace and told the saleswoman to send the bill to her husband. The story goes that when he got it, he never even mentioned it to her.
“And then a Hearst heiress and her husband were invited to a formal dinner on the Britannia when Queen Elizabeth II sailed on her to Los Angeles. Ms. Hearst was wearing the family emeralds.
“When she boarded the Britannia, the Queen was wearing her own magnificent emeralds. Ms. Hearst confided to a friend, ‘Compared to hers, mine looked as if they came out of a Cracker Jack box!’?”
The final personal story would be about the King of Saudi Arabia who was accompanied by his daughter to a White House state dinner. The twenty-two-year-old princess kept the President waiting twenty minutes, an unpardonable breach of etiquette. But that fact was forgotten by the media, whose focus was on her three-strand necklace, a stunning mixture of priceless gemstones from diamonds and rubies to emeralds and sapphires.
It’s human to enjoy the gossipy stories, Celia thought, and telling just a few never failed to spice up a lecture.
Satisfied that she was prepared for the presentation, Celia looked at her watch. It was quarter of one and time to join Alvirah and Willy in the buffet dining room for lunch. It’s hardly self-service, she thought, remembering other luxurious ocean liners she had been on that had the same kind of service. When a passenger had finished making a selection, a waiter was always there to carry the tray to a table and serve whatever beverage was requested.
She looked at her watch again and decided she had enough time to call her lawyer. She wanted to see if he had heard anything about whether they might be viewing her differently after the People magazine article. Randolph Knowles was not in his office. His secretary promised he would return the call. Celia could not help asking, “Any word from the US Attorney’s Office?”
“No, nothing. Oh, wait a minute. Mr. Knowles just walked in.” Celia heard her say, “Ms. Kilbride is on the phone.” Then, when Randolph said, “Hello, Celia,” she knew she was not going to hear good news. She did not go through the formality of greeting him. “What’s going on, Randolph?” she asked.
“Celia, it’s not good,” Randolph told her. “Your ex-fiancé is such a convincing liar that the US Attorney’s Office just called me to say that they may ask the FBI to interview you again when you get home.”
Celia thought numbly, I’m flying back from London the day we dock in Southampton. That’s only a few days from now. She remembered the stony faces of the FBI agents who had interrogated her.
Randolph was talking. “Celia, they put you through the mill already and they believed you. This is simply another hurdle.” But it was obvious from his tone that he was not convinced.
“I hope it is.” Celia pressed the red button on her cell phone. If only I hadn’t promised the Meehans I would join them, she thought passionately. But she had, and a few minutes later a waiter was pulling out a chair for her at the table where they were sitting.
They both smiled and Alvirah greeted her warmly. “Celia, as I said before, we’re so happy to be able to have a chance to chat with you. Willy told me he was initially sorry he went into Carruthers to ask about the prices of some of the rings he saw in the display cases, but then you came along and made him feel so comfortable.”
What she did not add was that she was dying to talk to Celia about her crooked ex-boyfriend. She was sure that when his trial came up she would be asked to cover it in her column in the Globe.
Of course she would not just plunge into that right away. “Why don’t we all make our selections,” she suggested. “And then we can chat.”
But a few minutes later, when Willy was happily enjoying a plate of sushi and she was halfway through a bowl of linguini with clam sauce, she noticed that Celia had eaten only a few bites of her chicken salad.
“Celia, if you don’t like the salad, you can get something else,” Alvirah said.
Celia felt a sudden lump in her throat and knew her eyes were filling with tears. Quickly she reached in her bag for her sunglasses. But Alvirah had noticed. “Celia,” she said in a voice rich with concern, “we know the stress you’re under.”
“I guess everybody knows. And if they didn’t know before, they’ll find out today.”
“Celia, sadly, what your fiancé did is all too common, but everyone is sorry for you being caught in that mess.”
“Everyone except my closest friends, who lost money they couldn’t afford to lose and blame me for having introduced Steven to them.”