From One Night To Desert Queen by Pippa Roscoe

PROLOGUE

‘I’MNOTSURE that I should go.’

‘We don’t really have much choice.’

‘I don’t want to leave you with Star and the rest of it...’

Star Soames’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She knew that her sisters would be absolutely mortified if they knew she was listening, but hated the way she had been lumped in with ‘the rest of it’. As if she were a duty, a burden, just like the one the grandfather they’d never met—thankfully, as far as Star was concerned—had placed on them.

Star willed back the tears clouding her vision as she tried to concentrate on what Skye, the eldest, was saying.

‘It should only be a couple of days. Fly to Costa Rica, get the map from Benoit Chalendar, come home. Simple as that.’

‘Except he’s not likely to have the map on him, Skye,’ came the gently worded reply from Summer, their youngest sister and the peacekeeper of the family.

‘Okay, so add in a day to return via France and I’ll be back before you know it.’

Star ran her thumb down the length of the thick gold chain of the necklace that they had found only yesterday, along with their great-great-great-grandmother’s journals, in a hidden recess tucked behind a section of shelves that swung open at the flick of a notch in Catherine’s library. Star preferred that name to the other names the smaller library had come to be known by, like the women’s library or the little library, and she wasn’t surprised that none of the male Soames heirs had ever thought to look there.

If anyone had ever suspected Catherine of spiriting away the family diamonds from her evil husband Anthony, it had never been more than a suspicion as generation after generation went half mad trying to solve the mystery of the missing jewels that must be worth a small fortune. It was as if every single subsequent Soames had let the sprawling Norfolk Estate run to ruin in order to chase a myth, including Elias Soames, the man who had rejected and disowned their mother before she’d even left her teens. Star shivered in memory of the image of his portrait hanging in the estate office, where she and her sisters had first heard the terms of his will. As the lawyer had read the fiendish requirements of the inheritance, Elias Soames had stared down at them like a Dickensian villain, for all that the painting could only have been made twenty years before.

Elias had given them only two months to track down the Soames diamonds. And if they failed? The estate would pass to the National Trust. Star nearly laughed. If it hadn’t been for their mother, the girls might have given the estate to the Trust with their blessing, none of them wanting anything to do with such a twisted manipulation. But because of their mother...

‘In the meantime, please keep an eye on Star. You know how she gets.’

How she gets?Star mouthed to herself, frowning, shifting away from the door, really not wanting to hear any more but unable to get far before hearing Skye carry on.

‘I’m worried that she’ll try and go after the next clue herself. Especially as it could be so...’

‘Romantic?’ both of her sisters chimed together, descending into fits of giggles. Star clenched her jaw. She’d read and loved romances for more than half her life, defended them more times than she could count and would continue to do so while she still had breath in her lungs.

‘I just worry that she’d get herself into trouble. And we really can’t afford to...we don’t have the time to get this wrong.’

A stab of hurt cut through her. While she hated what her sisters were saying, they were right. She looked around at the library, through the window where the stars in the night sky blinked over the land that came with the estate. Land that, had Mariam Soames lived there, might have had the right postcode. A postcode that would have meant she’d have had access to the most successful treatment for her stage three cancer. But her small flat in Salisbury, near the New Forest, was about as far as possible from this sprawling estate with two wings and more than forty rooms and was very much in the wrong postcode. Star couldn’t help but shake her head at the injustice of it, at the cruelty that meant life or death was based on income, savings or property location.

‘We’ve already lost two weeks getting this far. But now we have the journals, now that you’ve decoded the secret message written in them, we have our first real start to finding the Soames diamonds. Benoit Chalendar has the map of the secret passageways in the estate, I’m sure of it.’

‘Skye, even if you do get the map, then we still need to find out where on the map they are hidden and how to access it when we do find it. They’re not going to be just lying in a corner of the secret passageways. And if we find whatever the next clue is while you’re still away, then Star will have to go. I need to be here to meet with the potential buyer and you know that the clause insists that one of us stay in residence for the two months we have to track down the missing jewels,’ Summer reminded Skye.

‘Can you believe this is our life right now? On a treasure hunt for diamonds that have been missing for over one hundred and fifty years?’

‘No more than I can believe that all this could be for nothing if we don’t find the jewels and the entire estate is handed over to the National Trust. And then we wouldn’t be able to help Mum.’

Selling the estate was the only way that the sisters would be able to pay for their mother’s medical treatment.

‘You haven’t said how you know this mysterious billionaire...’

Star listened for an answer, but none came from Summer.

‘You know you can talk to us if you need to.’

‘I know.’

Star listened as the footsteps retreated down the corridor away from the library before sinking into the ancient leather chair. Again, her fingers ran up and down the thick bronze twists of the necklace, the action comforting as the heavy rectangular pendant swung like a pendulum back and forth from where it hung. It hurt that her sisters didn’t think she could do her part without getting into trouble. That they doubted her. But, instead of wallowing in self-pity, she saw herself like an Arthurian knight, brandishing her sword, battle cry at the ready, determined to fulfil her quest. Gripping the pendant in her fist, she swore that she would follow the next clue wherever it led and she would return proving her sisters wrong, she would help to save her mother.