Chapter 1 — She Dropped It In The Wine

VivianStop. Stop right there. Turn around.

Clara turned around with a tray of empty champagne flutes balanced on one hand.

VivianYour hand. Show me your right hand.

ClaraMa'am, I'm carrying —

VivianPut the tray down and show me your hand.

Clara set the tray on the edge of the buffet table.

VivianWhere did you get that ring.

ClaraIt was my mother's.

VivianThat is an Ashford emerald. That stone has been in this family since 1911.

ClaraIt was my mother's.

Vivian took hold of Clara's wrist and lifted her hand into the chandelier light so that the guests nearest to them could see it.

VivianWould everybody like to see what the help walks out of this house wearing?

The string quartet stopped mid-phrase.

ClaraPlease let go of my hand.

VivianTake it off.

ClaraNo.

VivianTAKE IT OFF.

Clara worked the ring off her finger and held it out on her open palm.

Vivian took it, held it up, turned it once — and dropped it into a full glass of red wine on the table beside her.

Then she pushed the glass off the edge with two fingers.

It broke on the marble in a spray of wine and stem and glass.

VivianIf it's really yours, you won't mind picking it up.

ClaraThere's broken glass.

VivianI'm aware.

ClaraMa'am —

VivianOn your knees, or out of my house. Those are the two.

Clara knelt down in the wine and began moving the pieces aside with the tips of her fingers.

VivianSlowly, dear. Don't cut yourself. You people can't afford stitches.

CharlesMother.

VivianCharles, stay out of this.

CharlesGet up. Miss — please, get up.

ClaraI found it.

Clara stood up with the ring in her closed fist and wine down the front of her uniform and her knees dark and wet.

VivianAnd where exactly did your mother get an Ashford emerald?

ClaraShe worked in this house for thirty-one years.

VivianSo she stole it.

ClaraShe was given it.

VivianBy whom?

ClaraBy your husband.