Forties Club Finalist #71

Seaside Promises
by Meghan Sullivan


“You promised me diamonds.”

“Be quiet.” The earl scooped up the kelp-laced sand, the coarse flecks sliding between his fingers.

“You said I’d be rich.”

“I said be quiet, you fool!”

Culver’s glower was visible even in the thickening fog. He was hunch-backed and stupid, but he understood avarice.

“Ain’t no diamonds, is there? Jus’ these worthless jewels she’s wearin’. That ain’t no proper reward for a bloke like me. Why we ‘ave to kill ‘er, anyway?”

Because some secrets are more precious than diamonds, The earl thought as they covered the broken body with sand. He had promised her diamonds, too. She had been such an innocent beauty, and he had promised her diamonds and sapphires and rubies if she would agree to keep his secrets. She had tried to flee instead.

“We could ‘ave at least used shovels like proper criminals,” the coachman complained as he threw another armful of sand over the body. “I know it ‘appened sorta fast and all, but this ‘ere is ‘ard work.”

“I promise you that when we are through you shall get all that you deserve.”

“You promised me diamonds.”

“Diamonds and sapphires and rubies.”

The coachmen gave a crooked smile. “You always was a good man to serve. Not the most sane or most honest, but certainly the richest.”

The earl returned the smile. Burying Culver by himself would be difficult, but the seaside estate was large, and he already knew the grave would be.