Bedazzled

Начало книги

“Is he dead, Mother?" The boy peered closely and curiously at the body slumped in the dark-blue tapestry chair.

The woman held a small looking glass attached to the gilt cord about her waist up to the man's nostrils. The mirror remained clear, not the faintest hint of breath upon it. "He is dead, my son," she replied matter-of-factly. Then, reaching into the bosom of her gown, she drew forth a dagger with a beautifully carved and bejeweled handle. She looked at the weapon a moment, admiring its artistry, regretting it would be lost to them. Handing it to the boy, she commanded, "Put it into his heart as I have shown you."

The boy stared down at the blade in his hands. "I always wanted this dagger," he mused. "Why must it be this dagger, Mother? I shall not be allowed to have it now, shall I? It isn't fair!"

"We have been over this several times, my son," the woman said quietly. "This weapon is known to belong to your older brother. As he and Lord Jeffers have had a very public falling out over Lady Clinton, when this dagger is found in Lord Jeffers's heart, it will be assumed that your brother killed him." She smiled. "You do want to be your father's heir, caro mio, don't you? How much nicer to be his heir than just his second son. There is little satisfaction in being a second son."

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