The Cavendon Women by Barbara Taylor Bradford Page A

story at best, and if anyone else had told her this strange little tale, Lady Gwendolyn would have doubted its veracity.
    Since it was Diedre who had related it, she believed it was the truth. Her great-niece was honest and dependable, not given to flights of fancy.
    Leaning back against the iron garden seat, gazing out at the flower garden, she relaxed, let her mind wander.
    She knew nothing about Diedre’s work, other than that she was well thought of by the powers that be. Only today had Diedre confirmed that she was in Intelligence, which Lady Gwendolyn herself had long suspected but never mentioned to anyone. She was always cautious when it came to such things.
    As for Diedre’s personal and social life, it was perfectly normal for a young woman. She was thirty-three now, and had never married, although there had been plenty of boyfriends, even serious suitors, over the years.
    As the daughter of one of the foremost earls in the land, with a title in her own right, she mixed in the best of circles, was genuinely popular and on the invitation lists of everyone that mattered in London society.
    There had never been any gossip about Diedre … no Chinese whispers. Lady Gwendolyn sat up with a start, frowning to herself, suddenly recalling Maxine Lowe, one of Diedre’s closest friends. She had been found dead in suspicious circumstances at her house in Mayfair, four years ago now.
    At the time, Lady Gwendolyn had been annoyed when Diedre had been interviewed by Scotland Yard. But her worries immediately vanished when her great-niece told her that all of Maxine’s friends had been questioned by the police.
    Diedre had then gone on to explain that the big boys at the Yard thought they might be looking at a homicide; some agreed with this theory, others focused on the idea of suicide.
    Then a different verdict altogether was announced by the coroner at the inquest. Maxine had indeed died from poisoning, and the substance ingested was arsenic. But the manner of death was declared to be undetermined. Leaving the verdict inconclusive in this way meant that the case was open to speculation; there had been a lot of talk about Maxine’s sudden death in the circles she had moved in, mainly high society and the artistic world. In the end, nothing ever came of the police investigation. Her death remained a mystery to this day.
    Now Lady Gwendolyn focused on Diedre’s problem at this moment, and her razor-sharp mind told her one thing … the rumor about Diedre being pushed out of the War Office had nothing to do with her personal life. She believed it had been started by a colleague with a grudge against Diedre.
    Nothing else made sense, actually. Obviously there was someone who wanted Diedre out of the way. Jealousy, envy, and ambition. A most fatal combination. Malice, she said to herself. It’s driven by malice aforethought.
    If you wanted to punish a person, the only way to do it without causing them bodily harm was to attack whomever or whatever they loved the most. Hit their vulnerable spot hard.
    This might be another human being, such as a spouse, a child, a parent, siblings. Or a lover, perhaps. A person who could be physically damaged, maybe even killed. She dismissed the idea of a lover. Diedre had become very much a career woman. But she was beautiful with her chic hairdo and lovely face, not to mention her stylish clothes.
    Alternatively, a career that was relentlessly attacked could ultimately be totally destroyed forever, never to be rekindled.
    These were the only two choices, as far as she was concerned. Hurt someone Diedre loved. Or destroy her career totally.
    Discovering the identity of Diedre’s enemy was an imperative. Until they knew who it was, they would be whistling in the dark. Who could Lady Gwendolyn turn to for help? Which of her friends had real power? Whom did she trust? And who would actually be willing to poke around for her?
    The answer came to her