Sweet Revenge

suit her small stature. She was a combination of the delicate and the exotic with her slim, almost waiflike build and strong features. The mouth was Phoebe’s and always gave Celeste a pang when she looked at it. The eyes, the eyes, no matter how Adrianne might have wished to have nothing of her father’s, were Abdu’s. Black, almond-shaped, and shrewd.
    From her mother she’d inherited her heart, her warmth, and generous spirit. From her father she’d taken a thirst for power and a taste for revenge.
    “Adrianne, there’s no need for you to continue this way.”
    “There’s every need.” Adrianne popped a cracker into her mouth.
    “Phoebe’s gone, dear. We can’t bring her back.”
    For a moment, just a moment, Adrianne’s expression was young and achingly vulnerable. Then her eyes hardened. Deliberately, she spread pâté on another cracker. “I know that, Celeste. No one knows better.”
    “My love.” Gently, Celeste laid a hand on hers. “She was my closest and dearest friend, as you are now. I know how you suffered with her, for her, and how hard you tried to help her. But there’s no need for you to take these risks now. There was no need before. I’ve always been there.”
    “Yes.” Adrianne turned her hand over so that their palms met. “You have. And I know that if I’d allowed it, you would have taken care of everything—the bills, the doctors, the medicine. I’ll never forget what you tried to do for Mama, and for me. Without you she wouldn’t have held on so long.”
    “She held on for you.”
    “Yes, that’s true. And what I did, what I do, and what I plan to do, I do for her.”
    “Addy …” The fear came, not from the words, but from the cold, matter-of-fact way they were spoken. “Addy, it’s been more than sixteen years since you left Jaquir. And it’s been five since Phoebe died.”
    “And with each day the debt increases. Celeste, don’t look like that.” Adrianne grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “What would I be without this … this hobby of mine? I’d be exactly what the press makes me out to be, a rich, titledsocial butterfly who dabbles in charitable causes and floats from party to party.”
    Adrianne made a face at the description and went back to her paté. “According to the gossip columns, I’m just another bored jet-setter with too little to do and too much money to do it with. Let them think it here, and in Jaquir. Let
him
think it.” Celeste needed no more than the look in Adrianne’s eyes to know she spoke of her father. “It only makes it easier to relieve the genuinely frivolous of their baubles.”
    “You don’t need the money now, Addy.”
    “No.” She looked down into the brandy. “I’ve invested well and could live off what I have quite comfortably. But it’s not the money, Celeste. Maybe it never was.” She lifted her gaze again. It was there, the heat, the chilling almost frightening heat of the diamonds she stole. “I was eight when we landed in America. And I knew even then I’d go back one day and take what was hers. What was mine.”
    “He might regret; by now he might regret.”
    “Did he come to her funeral?” The question ripped out as she sprang up to pace. “Did he even acknowledge that she was gone? All those years, those terrible years, he didn’t so much as acknowledge that she was alive.” Struggling for control, she leaned against the counter. When she spoke again, her voice was calm and certain. “In a very real sense she wasn’t. He killed her, Celeste, all those years ago, when I was too young to stop him. Soon, very soon, he’s going to pay for it.”
    Celeste felt the shiver run down her back. She remembered Adrianne at eight. The eyes had already been dark and haunted and much too old. “Do you think Phoebe would want this?”
    “I think she’d appreciate the irony of it. I’m going to take The Sun and the Moon, Celeste. Just as I promised her, as I promised myself. And he’ll pay dearly to get them back.” Turning around, she smiled and lifted her snifter to salute her friend. “In the meantime I can’t afford to get rusty. Did you know Lady Fume is having a gala next month in London?”
    “Addy—”
    “Lord Fume, the old goat, paid over a quarter of a million for her emeralds. Lady Fume really shouldn’t wearemeralds. They make her look pallid.” With a laugh Adrianne leaned over and kissed Celeste’s cheek. “Go get some more beauty sleep, darling. I’ll just let myself