“Won’t you join us, Lady Carlisle?” If something was going on with the woman, Amy wanted to know what it was. After all, she was in the middle of a murder investigation, and everything—and everyone—was under suspicion.
Lady Carlisle sat and fiddled with the beautiful gold-and-emerald necklace that seemed a bit out of place at a book club meeting. “That is a lovely necklace,” Amy said.
“Fake,” Mrs. Miles muttered.
Amy glanced at Mrs. Miles, not completely sure she’d heard her correctly. She didn’t say anything else.
“Yes, my husband gave it to me for my birthday. Isn’t it beautiful?” The woman beamed and wrapped the necklace around her finger.
“Fake.”
Amy ignored Mrs. Miles. “Yes, it is beautiful. Do you know where he purchased it?”
Lady Carlisle waved her hand. “No.” She giggled. “Does it matter?”
“Fake.”
A bit taken aback by the three-way conversation that only she seemed to be aware of, Amy pressed her fingertips to her head, which had begun to pound. “No, I guess it does not matter. I just wondered which shop had such lovely things.”
“Fake.”
Dear God in heaven, if this didn’t stop, she was going to explode like some sort of Chinese firecracker. Instead, she took a deep breath. “If you will excuse me, ladies, I believe I would enjoy a cup of tea.”
“What’s wrong?” William said as she approached him. “I apologize, I forgot your lemonade.”
“That is fine. I think I prefer a cup of tea, actually.”
William looked over to where Mrs. Miles and Lady Carlisle were involved in an intense conversation. Well, it appeared Mrs. Miles was intense. Lady Carlisle was still her somnolent self.
Amy leaned in closer to William. “I complimented Lady Carlisle on her necklace, and every time she mentioned it, Mrs. Miles mumbled ‘Fake.’”
This time it appeared William’s eyebrows would meet his hairline. “’Tis a strange relationship those two women share.”
“Indeed.” They both watched as Lady Carlisle gathered her belongings and, without a word to anyone, left the room.
Amy put her teacup down and nudged William. “Come. I want to hear more about this fake necklace.”
William grabbed a cup of lemonade, and they strolled to where Mrs. Miles sat by herself. He held out the glass. “I apologize profusely, Mrs. Miles. I forgot all about your lemonade.”
She gave William a bright smile. “That is fine, my lord.” She took the glass from him and took a delicate sip.
Amy sat on one side of the woman, William on the other. “Mrs. Miles, when Lady Carlisle mentioned her lovely necklace, you mentioned it was fake.”
Mrs. Miles nodded. “Fake.”
“Can you tell me why you said that?”
r /> The woman looked at her as if she were mad. “Because it’s fake. All her jewelry is fake. Every last piece is fake.”
William cleared his throat. “Are you insinuating that her husband gave her fake jewelry?”
Mrs. Miles straightened in her seat, indignation on her face. “Of course not. That lovely man would never do such a thing. He is a devoted husband and deserves more than her for a wife.”
Oh, my.
Amy looked over at William, who shrugged. She turned her attention back to Mrs. Miles. “Then why do you say her necklace is fake?”
“Because she sold all the stones and replaced them with paste. Every single piece of jewelry her husband has given her. All fake. All paste.” She shook her head and took another sip.