Muffled footsteps sounded across the burgundy carpet. She heard someone moving about the room doing something. She ventured a peek from behind the back of the chair and saw Julien’s back to her. He stood facing the wall of leather-bound books. Katie realized he was not looking at the library books, but at a table in the corner near the fireplace. A carved teak lion, some elephant tusks, and a wooden box sat on top of the table.
She watched Julien turn his head and glance toward the closed library door. He approached a magnificently carved secretary and opened the two cabinet doors. Then came footsteps in the outer hall, and Julien hurried toward the library door. Katie saw lion etchings on the wooden secretary and two lionhead knobs. Julien bolted the library door and returned to the secretary, taking something from his jacket pocket and looking at it for a moment—
The Black Diamond! Katie’s breath caught in her throat as Julien turned his attention to the two lionhead knobs. Once again he turned his back toward her, and she could not see what he was doing. She heard a click and then something like a spring releasing. She had the impression that he was placing something inside a compartment, then he pressed on something as the compartment clicked shut. He closed the secretary cabinet and walked to the library door, opened it and glanced out before he left the room. As his footsteps faded, Katie remained stooped behind the leather chair, too stunned to move.
The diamond was hidden in the secretary.
She moistened her dry lips and sought to calm her galloping heart. She could have sworn Julien had not used any key. Just a secret compartment in a hundred-year-old secretary, most likely used for maps and valuable papers. Why would Sir Julien hide the priceless diamond in a compartment in the desk instead of one of the safes in Cape House where the jewels and priceless items were kept? Perhaps he thought they were too far from his office.
Katie could scarcely take it in. She had actually learned where the Black Diamond was hidden! Her hands shook, but she did not move from her hiding place for an inestimable time. When all was silent, she crept out and went to the desk. She stood staring at it. It was enough to know the secret of the stone’s hiding place … at least for now. She crept to the door, opened it a crack, and, seeing no one, slipped out and went to the stairway.
Safely back in her room, she collapsed in a tapestry chair, hugging herself until her nerves calmed and her shaking ceased.
She was still seated there, resting her head on the back of the chair, when Inga tapped on the door and opened it slightly. Seeing Katie, she opened it wide and came in with the afternoon tea tray.
“You’re looking ill, Miss Katie. Are you needing a doctor?”
Katie shook her head and watched Inga pour her tea, add sugar and milk, and bring it to her on a gold-rimmed china saucer.
“Here, miss, drink it hotlike. It’ll make your insides settle a bit.”
Katie took it with a grateful sigh. “Inga?”
The old Dutch woman looked at her, a slight frown on her brow. “Yes, Miss Katie?”
“Did you hear anything in the kitchen about Cousin Henry?”
Inga’s pug nose twitched. “Laddie says to his mum, the cookie, that when Master Chantry went to the stables he was mad enough to do Sir Julien harm.”
Katie shuddered. “Did Laddie learn anything about where my cousin was going? Did he say he was leaving Capetown or anything of the sort?”
“Master Chantry didn’t say a word, miss. Just swung himself onto the horse and galloped away like a hellion. But,” she added in a low voice, “if you’re wondering where the Master is staying, it’s no hard thing to learn. There’s all of a half dozen inns and hotels in town that’s operating now. Would you be wanting me to send Laddie to find the Master’s whereabouts?”
Katie leaned forward, setting her cup and saucer on the little table. “Can he go without Sir Julien knowing?”
“Oh, surely, miss.” She grinned. “You know Laddie. He can do most anything and not get himself caught.”
“Well, yes, I do not doubt that. Then I wish to write a letter to my cousin and have your nephew deliver it tonight.”
Inga nodded gravely. “I’ll see it taken care of, Miss Katie. I’ll be bringing tea to the others, then I’ll come back for your letter.”
When Inga left, Katie drank her hot tea and poured a second cup, adding even more sugar and milk. She carried the cup and saucer to her desk, sat down, and drained the cup. When her nerves began to settle, she removed a piece of linen stationery and dipped the pen in the inkwell. She wrote hurriedly, folded the sheet, and sealed it in the envelope. On the outside she scrawled Master Henry Chantry. Then she went back to her chair and waited for Inga.
An hour later, the nanny came back into the room. Katie handed her the envelope. “Do not let Laddie tell anyone what he is about.”
Inga nodded. “No one, Miss Katie. You rest easy. Laddie will find the Master.”
CHAPTER TWO
Katie awoke with a start. She must have dozed off. She was still sitting in the chair, the empty teacup and saucer on her lap. She realized what had awakened her. Sir Julien’s impatient voice rang through the open bedroom window.
Had Cousin Henry dared to return?
She set the cup on the tea tray and went to the window, looking down to the front lawn.
A tall young African in knee pants and a long yellow cotton shirt was leading a horse toward Sir Julien, who stood tapping his foot. Dressed for riding, he yelled something in Zulu to Dumaka, who was head groom. Dumaka trotted alongside the gelding, bringing the handsome golden horse to Sir Julien.
Julien mounted, took hold of the reins, and sent the horse galloping toward the gate.
Where was he going? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that with him gone, the task in the library would now be much easier to accomplish.
A soft tap sounded on Katie’s door. She hurried to it. A moment later it opened, and Inga’s light blue eyes shone.
“Laddie found Master Henry. He’s in a room at the wharf. He sent a message to you, Miss Katie.” After glancing both ways, she removed an envelope from behind her apron.
Katie read the brief wording from Cousin Henry: I will meet you in the stables a few minutes after midnight. H. C.
“Good news, miss? You’re smiling pertlike.”
Katie clutched the letter to her chest. “Yes! Leave the back kitchen door unlocked tonight. I will come down fifteen minutes before the stroke of twelve.”
“Then the master will bring you to Isandlwana?”
“I shall do everything in my power to see that he does. This is my chance to get away, to have my daughter … and a new start in America.”
Inga nodded. “With a guardian like Master Julien, it is best to leave if you can, miss. He’s ridden to the harbor to meet someone from London. He didn’t say who it was, but I don’t suspect he’ll be back soon. Luck, Miss Katie, is on your side, so it seems. Jendaya, too, has come back to her hut. She didn’t leave as I had thought, but was selling vegetables at the open market.”
Katie clasped her hands together. “Speak to her about having a four-horse carriage ready for me tonight. If Cousin Henry agrees, Jendaya can bring me as far as Natal. Afterward I can ride horseback with Henry toward Isandlwana.” The ride would be rough and not without risk, but Katie would not turn back in fear, no matter how many rumors spread of the Zulus preparing for the first “washing of their spears.”
Katie spent the rest of the afternoon on edge. She packed some of her clothing and personal items, then watched the clock on her table for the crucial hour to strike. After midnight the entire household would be asleep. Matters were turning out very well, what with Henry all but agreeing to help her and Sir Julien’s being away from the house.
Perhaps almost too well.
Just whom might Julien be meeting on a ship from London? What if he had only pretended to leave for the harbor? He could return to the estate after nightfall, conceal his horse in the thicket, and enter without being seen—perhaps
to wait in the darkened library for her and Henry.
“I’m being too suspicious,” she murmured to the walls, “but it does appear that the Black Diamond, and escape to Isandlwana, is being handed to me on a silver platter.”
Even so, this Was the best opportunity to escape and to get Evy back. She narrowed her lashes, remembering the feel of Anthony’s arms around her, but thinking of him now brought only a flood of bitterness. I have borne all the shame, the suffering, the loss, while he tours about London in a fancy coach, sporting Lady Camilla at dinner balls and the theater. Oh, what a fool I was to give myself to him! To listen to his smooth sentimental talk, his declarations of love and protection.
Well, danger from the Zulus or not, she was going through with her plans to journey toward the Varleys’ mission station. There was also risk in Sir Julien’s guardianship, considering his loathsome schemes to marry her off to a man of his own choosing. And if she stayed at Cape House, she would lose Evy forever.
I will not lose her! Not if I can prevent it.
As the clock struck eleven, she was dressed and waiting. She was not likely to hear Cousin Henry arrive. She doubted he knew that Julien was away, so he would avoid alerting him. Inga had told Katie earlier that evening that she had spoken to Jendaya, and the Zulu woman would have the carriage waiting behind the cluster of trees by the back road near the African huts. There was a narrow dirt road there that led from the farmland to the township. They could leave without going through the front grounds of Cape House.
Perhaps Cousin Henry was arriving by that road even now!
Once they reached the mission station near Isandlwana, Katie was sure Dr. Varley’s wife would relinquish Evy. How could they with any Christian conscience refuse her if she insisted? She was sure they would not. Then, by the time they notified Sir Julien, she and Evy, and perhaps Cousin Henry, would be at Cape Elizabeth, boarding a ship bound for London.
She sat near the door in the darkness, her one bag waiting beside her.
America, yes—it will be a safe place to begin a new life.
She stood and began to pace the soft carpet. Her feet, encased in stylish flat-heeled morocco slippers, made no sound. She looked at the clock again. At last the hands reached eighteen minutes before midnight, and her heart began to leap. Though it was a warm night, she slipped into her dark, hooded cloak, caught up her bag, and slipped from her room. The upper hall was empty and silent.
Inga had left a small lantern burning near the table by the top of the stairway, and Katie crept down the steps, clutching the banister, her gaze riveted toward Sir Julien’s office. No yellow glow came from beneath the oak door.
Below the stairs, hovering like a ghost, Inga waited, a small candle in her hand. Her fair face was taut and looked even more wan than usual.
“The kitchen door is unlocked, just as you said.” Her whisper seemed to echo in the silence.
Katie nodded, then threw an arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “Thank you, Inga, for everything. What would I have done without you these lonely years?”
Inga showed no particular emotion, but her mouth grew tight. “You be careful now. You watch that Master Henry. You might need him now, but he’s a cagey one.”
“Yes, yes, good-bye, Inga. You had best go to your room now and lock your door. Do not come out again, no matter what you hear.”
Inga handed her the candleholder and slipped away. In another moment, the shadows had swallowed her from Katie’s view. Katie glanced back up the stairs. All was well. She stood for a last moment listening. She heard nothing except the drumbeat of her own heart. She made her way along the hall, hesitated by the library, then went toward the kitchen. She would first explain about the Black Diamond to Cousin Henry. When it was taken, they must both be involved.
The kitchen was a huge room, usually warm and bright with a cheerful atmosphere, but in the sporadic moonlight it seemed more like a black cave. She edged her way along the counter and past the immense stove, past the sideboards, the tables, the pantry—
Her breath caught in her throat. What was that over there—that shadow that seemed to emerge from the darkness? Her trembling hand gripped the candleholder. A draft came from somewhere and drew the little flame aside, where it hovered, quavering.
Whoever was in the darkness must have already seen her candle. Too late to hide.
“Who is there?”
A shrill, feline hiss cut through the silence. Katie jumped, and the candle separated from the holder and thudded to the floor, bringing total darkness as the fleeing cat shot past Katie. Her heart fluttered, and she lunged for the back door. As she felt for the doorknob, pulled the door open, and bolted outside, she expected to feel someone’s hands grabbing hold of her from behind. She darted to the porch, where damp mops, brooms, and trash barrels seemed determined to hinder her. She rushed down the porch steps and across the yard, toward the distant stables.
She looked back once, afraid she would see lights coming on in some of the lower rooms—but the windows remained dark. The tree branches around her sighed in the night wind. Above, the moon was like a silver disk darting between the clouds coming in from the bay. The beauty calmed her. She must have imagined that shadow, and her own prowling about had spooked poor Tabby, who slept on a padded footstool in the corner of the kitchen.
Katie released a tense breath, turned away from the house, and ran on to the stables to find Cousin Henry.
The stables appeared as low, rambling silhouettes against the backdrop of distant trees. The corral was visible in the moonlight, and a tall, shadowy figure moved away from a shade tree and came toward her. She paused and waited as a horrid thought struck her: What if it was Sir Julien, after all?
She gripped the handle of her bag until the leather strap began to press into her palm.
Cousin Henry came into view, a sardonic smile on his swarthy face, the wind ruffling his dark jacket. He could have passed for a riverboat gambler—not exactly the most trustworthy of folks. Yet she had little choice now except to turn to him.
“You called for me, my dear?”
Katie grabbed his sleeve and pulled him aside to the shadow of the stables. “We must not be seen in the moonlight.”
His brows shot up when he saw her clothing bag. “Well, well.” Katie’s cheeks heated at his smooth mockery. “So you’ve finally come to your senses and decided I am worth two of that insipid nephew of mine.”
“Henry, you’ve got to help me. We must act quickly, and I haven’t all night to explain. But I will ask that you keep your ill-bred remarks to yourself.” She met his gaze. “It is not you I am interested in, but your assistance.”
“Sounds typical of you, Katie love. If you were wise you would sound a trifle more … sweet and submissive? Well, go on, we are risking our necks out here if Julien finds us.”
“He has gone to the harbor, but we must still be very careful.”
“What did you mean by assistance?”
She read the hint of suspicion in his tone. Born and raised in England, Henry sounded more British than the rest of the family, who spoke with the Afrikaner accent. Henry’s father, Squire George Chantry, owned the grand estate of Rookswood in the village of Grimston Way. Henry’s older brother, Lyle, had married one of Lady Brewster’s two daughters, Honoria—sister to Caroline, Henry’s poor wife.
Katie clamped her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering and lifted her chin, hoping she looked brave when she felt otherwise.
“I have a bargain to present to you.”
His dark brows arched at that. “What kind of bargain?”
She looked at him squarely; she needed to at least appear confident. “I overheard your discussion with your stepbrother. You need financial backing for your expedition. A gold discovery, isn’t it?”
“You were eavesdropping?”
“Oh, Henry, there is no time for that. Do you want to hear my plan or not?”
“First things first. Why is it you are not turning to your b
eloved Anthony for help? When I left here two years ago you insisted you were madly in love with the innocuous fellow.”
“And you, Cousin Henry, were about to be married.”
“After you turned me down.”
“That doesn’t matter now. Are you interested in listening or not?”
“About my nephew Anthony—”
She tried to hide her consternation. “Never mind him. I don’t know where he is, nor do I care! He lied to me. I loathe him.” She clenched her hands to still the trembling that threatened to overcome her.
Henry’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. Clearly, he was alert and not easily deterred. She should have known he would demand complicated explanations as to why her relationship with his wife’s nephew had turned sour.
She stiffened when she felt his fingers on her face. He cupped her chin and turned her toward the moonlight, his gaze searching hers until he must have guessed what she was hiding, for the corner of his mouth tipped.
“So that’s how it is, is it?”
She jerked her chin away and stepped back. “Please, don’t. Sir Julien has humiliated me enough.”
“So, you discovered too late that the cherished Anthony is a louse. I doubt he has given you a second thought since going to London. You should have listened to me. What has he done, abandoned you while he makes arrangements to marry Lord Montieth’s charming heiress?”
“Oh, keep quiet!” She felt his words like a blow, and tears rushed to her eyes. She wished to throw his words back into his face, but common sense restrained her. She could not afford to anger him, not when she needed him so desperately.
“Your emotions tell me this is no ordinary jilt. What is it?”
She avoided his eyes and bit her lip, then turned her back. The words lodged in her throat like thorns. How humiliating to have to confess to a man like Henry Chantry that she had been a fool.
Tomorrow's Treasure Page 3
