A Proposal to Die For by Vivian Conroy Page B

Matejevna walked to Dubois and clutched his sleeve. ‘Please no police, no papers. No hurt to my mistress. I did it all for her. To protect her.’
    The countess put her hands on her hips. ‘You stole from me to protect me? That will take some explaining, Oksana Matejevna!’
    Oksana whirled round to her. ‘I did it to protect you, your highness. You are a Russian princess. You should live a sheltered life. You should not be…exposed to police officers and rude questions about your life, and vile reports in the papers.’
    She turned to Dubois again. ‘You are a reporter too. You write up those lies.’
    Dubois shook his head. ‘I never write anything unless I have ascertained that it is true. I do not want to hurt people. I don’t want to hurt your mistress either.’
    Alkmene pointed at a chair. ‘Please sit down and tell us everything that happened. Tell us why you did what you did so we may understand it.’
    Oksana blinked a few times. Then she seated herself and pulled her skirt straight. ‘Last week, twodays before we went to the theatre, a letter came for her highness. It was not in the mail. It was…how do you say? Delivered to the door. The footman took it in. I saw it and I took it from him to bring to her highness.’
    â€˜And then you opened it and read it,’ the countess said with a grimace.
    Oksana hung her head. ‘I do not deny it. I thought it was strange there was no name on the envelope, no…emblem, no thing to see who sent it. I opened it and read it. It was terrible.’
    Dubois glanced at Alkmene. His lips formed the word blackmail.
    Alkmene ignored him and focused on Oksana, who pushed on, ‘The letter said that you had deceived your husband. That there was proof. To get the proof back you had to give up on something valuable. The brooch was…how do you say? Outlined?’
    â€˜Described?’ Dubois scooted to the edge of his seat. ‘You mean, they asked for this particular brooch in the letter you read?’
    Oksana nodded. ‘Yes. It had to be delivered in a certain way. In the theatre.’
    â€˜So the sender also knew you were going to see an opera that night?’
    â€˜Yes.’ Oksana nodded again. ‘I was so scared. I thought he had been…watching us.’
    â€˜He had to have been to know so much.’ Dubois looked pensive. He cast a look at Alkmene, who nodded quickly. After all, her letter had said explicitly the perpetrators had been watching her.
    Dubois asked, ‘What then?’
    â€˜I didn’t want to show to my mistress. So I took the brooch to the theatre and left it there in the curtain as the letter had said. I was supposed to go back later and take the proof from the hiding place. But it was not there. I doubted what to do: take back the brooch or leave it. I had no time to think well.’
    â€˜So you left it?’
    â€˜Yes. I should not have. I am sorry.’
    â€˜You should not have read a letter addressed to me. Or acted without consulting me first.’ The countess tried to look angry, but she was half smiling. ‘Poor Oksana, you only did what you thought was best.’
    Then her face set again. ‘Why have you never told me you understand so much English?’
    Oksana hung her head.
    â€˜I bet,’ Dubois said, ‘it is much easier to catch all the gossip when people believe you cannot understand a word they are saying.’
    Oksana looked up. ‘It is not always easy, monsieur. They also say things about me thinking I do not understand them. Hurtful things.’
    Dubois’s jaw set. Alkmene wondered if he was thinking about the hurtful things flung at him because he was a foreigner. He was after all half French.
    And a convict at that.
    She was not sure what it meant exactly. She could not imagine him having committed crimes for which he had deserved to go to prison. Did that mean he had been imprisoned innocently? For a