Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(42)

THEY DESCENDED INTO the grand hall of the house for champagne and cocktails and a large assortment of canapés. Stone and Kelly walked about, exchanging greetings with familiar faces.

“Have you seen Owaki this evening?” Stone asked.

“No, now that you mention it,” she replied. “In fact, not since dinner last night.”

“Maybe he spotted you and bolted,” Stone said. “Word of your performance on the skeet range could have roused him to flight.”

Another half hour of this, and the gongists appeared, one of them shouting, “Dinner is served in the State Dining Room,” and pointing toward a tall pair of gilded doors that were opening. The crowd poured into the room, which seemed a mate, in size, of the library. It turned out to occupy the entire opposite side of the house, and Stone caught a glimpse of the undisturbed long table with, perhaps, fifty gilt and red velvet chairs on either side. A moment later, they were swamped with guests looking for their seats.

Stone glanced at his schedule. “Numbers two and three,” he said, pointing. “Down that way.” They were seated on either side of the head of the table, which contained two chairs for, he supposed, the duke and duchess. He wondered if Owaki had sprung for two nights of their gracious company.

The gong rang again, and the duke and duchess were announced, then all took their seats. A string quartet began to play somewhere above their heads.

Stone had drawn the duchess for a dining companion and Kelly, the duke, who seemed very pleased about it.

“Your Grace,” Stone said to her, “I am Stone Barrington.”

“Ah, yes,” she replied. “Our guests from New York.”

“Quite so.”

“My name is Dinah,” she said, “and I prefer it to titles.”

“Dinah, it is, and I am Stone. Across the table is my companion, Kelly Smith.” The two waved at each other.

“And I am Philip,” the duke said to both of them. “Tell me, Stone, in New York what is the difference between a barrister and a solicitor?”

“About five hundred dollars an hour,” Stone said, “the difference between a trial lawyer and a paper pusher. And the trial lawyers wear better suits.”

The duke, or rather, Philip, roared. “Very good, very good.”

“I note the absence of Mr. Owaki this evening,” Stone said. “He’s not unwell, I hope.”

“Mr. Owaki cannot afford to be unwell,” the duke replied. “He’s too busy earning the upkeep of this place. And by the way, he seemed disturbed last evening to find you among our company at dinner.”

“I’m pleased to hear that,” Stone replied. “I so enjoy disturbing Mr. Owaki.”

“Have you two had legal difference in the past?”

“In the very recent past,” Stone replied. “I testified at his bail hearing a short while ago—against, I should add.”

“I take it he was able to afford the bail?”

“Apparently so.”

“Over here,” the duke said, “I hear he was able to afford the prime minister.”

“I heard that whispered, as well.”

“Tell me, where does all that money come from? Not that I wasn’t happy to take quite a lot of it when I sold him this estate.”

“It’s said to arise from the sale of weapons to people who shouldn’t be allowed to possess them.”

“I thought it might be something like that,” Philip said. “That or drugs. I’m not sure which I despise more.”

“I fall on the side of whichever Mr. Owaki is selling,” Stone said.

“Ha ha. Tell me, did you perchance hear gunfire on the estate late this afternoon?”

“I did,” Stone replied, “and I called it to the attention of my companions, who thought it might be from the skeet range.”

“Oh, no,” the duke said. “I was in the Army; that was rifle fire. Military rounds, too. Nobody shoots game on the estate, except those hired for the purpose.”

The footmen swept in with their first course of roasted quail, and Stone noticed that the wine they were served, though the label was hidden by a napkin, was markedly better than what they had drunk the evening before. Stone thought the seating arrangements had something to do with that.

The main course was venison from the estate’s herd.

“Tell me, Stone,” Dinah said, “do you visit England often?”

“Yes, I do. I have a house in London and a country place in Hampshire, on the Beaulieu River.”

“What a nice combination,” she said.

“Where in London?” the duke asked.

“In Wilton Crescent.”

“Ah, then you’re the tenant of that other duke—What’s his name?”

“Westminster, it says on the lease,” Stone said.

“Yes, I believe I’ve heard of him.”

Over a dessert of mille-feuille the duke surprised Stone.

“I hear you attended a dinner at a very good restaurant in Mayfair the other evening,” he said to Stone.

“I did,” Stone admitted.

“Felicity Devonshire mentioned it,” he said. “She’s an old and dear friend.”

Stone took it to mean that the two had slept together, or perhaps still did. “Remarkable woman,” he said. “My neighbor on the Beaulieu.”