Whispered Kisses

by Taylor, Janelle

  “I hear the American Museum of Natural History has been working on African displays,” Chamberlain remarked. “I’m certain our Royal Society doesn’t want to lag behind the Colonists in any area. Have you made arrangements with them to sponsor your safari?”

  “No, I want to be on my own. If something exceptional turns up, I’ll contact them by cable from the protectorate.”

  “Make certain you don’t rile the aborigines’ protection society. They claim their task is looking after the interests of natives around the world and they gave Rhodes a hard time in his colony. They were afraid the Africans would be mistreated and exploited. I daresay though it is unfortunate, you can’t colonize any wild area without a little exploitation. The same goes for the Church Missionary Society; they put their noses into more than religion. They’ve sponsored several wars there, supposedly for the supremacy of the Protestant religion. They sold war bills for that conflict in Uganda. As for where you’re heading, I believe the Imperial British East Africa Company has it fairly well locked up. The natives are allowing the IBEA Company to build forts in their area. They have a treaty with a Kikuyu chief to supply the railroad with meat and other necessities. From the reports I’ve received, farmers, engineers, miners, builders, lawyers, missionaries, and soldiers are taking over most of Africa—Britain and foreigner alike. It won’t be wild much longer,” Chamberlain surmised. “Be glad you’ll see it before it’s spoiled by so-called civilization.”

  “Is there much trouble with foreign goverments in Africa?” Leigh inquired. “Do you still have border disputes and battles? You and Chad have mentioned a lot of trouble.”

  Chamberlain replaced his monocle, looked at her, and answered, “Mainly with the Germans and Dutch. They were in on that Jameson affair and other troubles. If we could move them and the Belgians out, we’d control most of Africa from the Cape to Cairo. If it were up to …”

  The discussion was interrupted as Lord Salisbury paused to speak with the trio a moment. After small and cordial talk, the impending safari was discussed once more. Leigh observed the rotund but well-dressed man with his nearly bald head and a heavy beard. His naturally puffy lids almost concealed gentle and intelligent eyes. He told them they had little—if anything—to fear from the natives, especially the Masai who didn’t mind the British takeover. He began to talk about the queen, who could not attend tonight’s function. It was clear to Leigh that the man was filled with admiration and affection for her.

  “As long as Victoria is on the throne, Great Britain and her colonies will prosper. She’s ruled for fifty-nine years, and is still quite young and vital for seventy-seven. Never have I known a more honest woman, and ruler. Have you met her, my dear?” he asked Leigh.

  “No, your lordship, but I would be honored and delighted to do so if the occasion presented itself. Tell me more about her,” she encouraged, aware she was one of Lord Salisbury’s favorite subjects. Her mother had taught her that nothing relaxed or pleased a person more than speaking on a favorite topic and having a good listener. But Leigh’s interest was not a pretense; nor was her motive guileful. She wanted to know all about Britain and the country’s ruler. After all, she was half English and she might live her remaining life here.

  “The queen is devoted to her family and her subjects. She is the symbol of middle-class virtues. She represents stability, decency, morality, humanitarian-ism, and progress. The throne will never be in jeopardy as long as there are monarchs like Victoria to occupy it. I’m glad you’ve come to our country, Miss Webster, and I hope you choose to remain here. We did have little tiffs with your country over the So-moan Islands and Venezuela, but we settled them nicely,” he teased.

  Leigh smiled, amused that he hadn’t mentioned the Colonists’ victorious fight for independence over a hundred years ago. She knew that many of the Brit-ains still believed that America would eventually be brought back into the British Empire, be it by request or force. Leigh knew that would never happen. Yet she had wondered often what would have happened to her parents had Thomas Webster met Mary Beth Leigh during that fierce struggle for freedom: beautiful American patriot against handsome English warlord. She cleared her head of such romantic fancies to respond almost tardily, “I’m glad, too, your lordship. As you may know, I’m half British and proud to be so, and I do think I will be settling here permanently.”

  A broad smile was almost concealed by the heavily whiskered face, his twinkling eyes were visible. “Excellent. I shall look forward to chatting with you again. When you return from Africa, contact me and I shall arrange for you to meet our beloved Queen Victoria.”

  “You are most kind, your lordship,” Leigh replied. She watched him excuse himself to mingle with other guests.

  Chad teased his ward first and then Chamberlain, “You charmed him like magic, Leigh and as for you, Joseph, you two seemed to get along fine. I thought perhaps our prime minister was annoyed with you these days.”

  “We settled our differences when I sided with him against Irish Home Rule,” Chamberlain responded. “As you know, I’m very much in favor of imperial unity these days. But he is a little miffed over my alleged involvement with Rhodes and Jameson. Salisbury is a powerful imperialist. He’s also a very religious man. His wish would be to conquer the African natives with Christianity rather than with military or intellectual might. I myself doubt that is possible. I fear I must agree with Cecil Rhodes on one point; ‘Money is power, and what can one accomplish without power?’ Of course such a statement is possible for a man of his wealth and power.”

  Chad laughed and jested, “You’re a clever man, Joseph, a wealthy and powerful one yourself, so you’ll be exonerated. If there is any way I can be of help to you in this or any other matter, I stand ready to do so, as always. We leave Monday, but I’ll return in late June. We’re taking a steamer, one of the newest by Cunard.”

  “Cecil left South Africa on January fifteenth and docked here on February third,” Chamberlain informed them, “so your voyage should require about three weeks. Perhaps a little more if weather is bad.”

  Before Leigh could ask questions about the voyage, Chad inquired, “Is Rhodes in London now? I’d like to see him again.”

  “No, he sailed for Cape Colony a few weeks past,” Chamberlain reminded. “Word arrived of new trouble with the Matabele warriors and he left to settle it. I’m inclined to agree with whatever measures he must take. With ninety percent of the world diamond market at stake, we can’t afford to lose that area, nor can he. When we made it a colony, we staked our claim. Now, we have to defend it.”

  A brave bachelor approached the group to ask Leigh for a dance. She was anxious suddenly to flee the men who were so engrossed in their entwined interests that she was almost ignored. Though she wanted to learn all she could about Africa and England, an invigorating dance might stir her sluggish body now from the wine and fatigue of listening to so much that was new to her. She slipped into the man’s arms and away they twirled.

  As they moved in time with the music and her partner seemed at a loss of words, Leigh thought about the conversation. She hadn’t known the impending trip would combine business with pleasure, nor that Chad had commercial interests other than the firm. She hoped he wasn’t planning to venture out on his own and leave her floundering on the bank like a fish out of water. She needed his expertise to keep her from losing her inheritance. Perhaps he planned to use this trip to teach her how much she needed him. Perhaps he was perturbed that her recent peril had not caused her to fall apart—or to fall into his arms. She didn’t like that dark thought. Surely Chad hadn’t arranged that episode on the docks to terrify her into clinging to him. Surely he hadn’t swapped the notes during her absence. Those were horrible suspicions, she chided herself, and dismissed them. Yet soon she needed to know his plans for the future. From the corner of her eye, she saw Reid Adams and Marquise Cynthia Campbell dancing, and she focused her attention on them.

  Chad’s best friend and constant companion was th
irty-four. His sharp, narrow eyes gave him an intense gaze, and their grayish-brown color added an air of secrecy, of impenetrable eeriness. His nose was long, thin, and rather sharp. His mouth seemed tight, as if he had to force his lips over his teeth to close it. Reid’s face was triangular, the point at his chin and straight at his hairline, of medium brown. Despite his incisive features and spare frame, he was very nice-looking in a rugged manner. At six feet, he was lean but strong. From what she had heard, his father had made a fortune in shoe manufacturing but was wasting it on gambling and drinking. The wealthy and successful Reid had turned his hand to shipping, which was how he had met Chad. He was a quiet and serious man, and a strange one, always observing everybody and everything. He seemed a lonely, sad soul, and that touched Leigh’s tender heart. But, she reasoned, he didn’t have to pretend he was having fun, or force himself to be with the brunette.

  Cynthia seemed to be enjoying herself. The widow of twenty-eight was wearing a fiery silk gown that clung to her enviable figure. Cynthia always was ready to join the group for fun and games but she apparently was not in love with Chad’s best friend and made no excuses for her feelings and conduct with the ruggedly handsome and wealthy bachelor. Maybe, Leigh surmised, they needed each other for physical and social reasons. The marquise obviously did not care what people said or thought about her— her manner of seductive dress and brazen behavior made that clear. Red plumes waved about in Cynthia’s brown hair as they danced, and a necklace of many diamonds glittered around her throat.

  Leigh wondered if those expensive gems had come from the DeBeers Mine in South Africa, owned by Cecil Rhodes, whom the men had been discussing earlier. Between words of cordial banter with her dance partner, Leigh wondered if Africa was wilder than she had imagined. From the men’s conversation and from earlier talks with her guardian, it sounded as if there had been a great deal of trouble there over the years, trouble she hoped was under control by now. Still, the daring American decided, a certain amount of danger made any adventure more stimulating and challenging.

  Leigh watched Louisa Jennings join Lord Chadwick Hamilton and Colonial Secretary Chamberlain. From their expressions and close proximity, the conversation near the far wall seemed serious and interesting, but she could not return to the group because she was in constant demand on the dance floor.

  “Make certain you stay out of South Africa during your trip,” Chamberlain cautioned Chad. “I can’t say how long it will be safe there.”

  “Probably safer than it is here for someone working against the Irish Home Rule Bill,” Chad commented on the nefarious Phoenix Park Murders of a few years past. “People in high places have already been murdered over that explosive cause, and you’re viewed a traitor to it. You’ve helped defeat it twice, old friend, so be extra careful. And don’t make any trips to Ireland like Lord Cavendish and Thomas Burke did.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ve never been known to back down on a good fight. But why are you really going on this safari at such a time? William’s been dead for less than three months. Shouldn’t you stay here and make certain the transition of the firm to you and Leigh goes smoothly?”

  Chad waited until Louisa left to dance with Reid, then replied, “Business, old friend, in two areas. I want to see what’s available there before it’s all claimed by others, and I’d like to get to know my new boss and owner better. If East Africa looks promising, can you help me get financial backing for control and expansion? Rhodes couldn’t have done what he did in South Africa without plenty of money from investors.”

  Chamberlain glanced about to make certain no one was within hearing distance. “Salisbury has his eyes on the Uganda Railroad and East Africa. Whatever I did to help you, Chad, would have to remain between us. You realize we can’t use the same men and methods Cecil Rhodes did at the Cape. Another fiasco and I’m finished in government. By the way, who’s going to be your guide? As colonial secretary, I know Jace Elliott lives and works there. I hear he’s a Great White Hunter of enormous reputation and skills. Many of our friends have used Elliott as their guide, and I’ve received no complaints against him and his men. Too bad Elliott got into trouble with his father and had to exile himself to stay alive. Quite a terrible crime and scandal. The authorities are eager to ask him a few questions, then send him to the hangman or prison. He’s been lucky to avoid them so far. If he ever shows his face here, he’ll have a lot of explaining to do to stay alive.”

  “Do you really think Brandon and Jace Elliott were involved in murder and arson?” Chad inquired.

  “That’s what the evidence and court said, and Elliott’s suicide note revealed the same. It was confirmed to be in his handwriting, so he’s clearly the one who implicated his own son. Of course, there are those who believe the old man was insane when he wrote it and believe Jace is innocent. But if he is, why does he refuse to come forward and clear himself? I would venture it’s because he can’t; he’s guilty. I didn’t know Brandon Elliott well. He was in the House of Commons, but he was staunchly working for the passage of Irish Home Rule.”

  “But did Brandon Elliott want it badly enough to destroy the opposition and himself?” the dark-haired man pressed.

  “He must have. He killed himself before he could be arrested and tried. During the investigation, evidence was uncovered linking Elliott to those Irish rebels, the Invincibles. It’s no secret Stokely was against Home Rule, or that he had hired men to unmask them; he wanted revenge for the wanton way those rebels destroyed his company in Ireland. It could be that Stokely or his men found proof against Elliott, proof that was destroyed during the fire. And a dead man can’t talk.”

  Chad shrugged. “I suppose you’re right about Brandon; evidence doesn’t lie. But it doesn’t sound like the Jace I went to school and sea with. Of course, he could have changed. I’ve only seen him a few times since those old days together, and he wasn’t too friendly. I suppose he’s still vexed over my affair with Joanna Harris.”

  Joseph grinned and teased, “Ah, yes, I do recall that tiny scandal. I suppose that means he won’t be your safari guide.”

  “I’ve hired a man named Jim Hanes, second best but skilled and reliable. Most of the guides are off doing other things this time of year. Their busy time is during Africa’s short rainy season from October to December. We English also prefer getting away to the tropics during our cold, damp winters. I realize we’ll hit the long rainy season of April to June, but it can’t be helped. It’s the best time to take Leigh before we plunge into hard work. Besides, it will be nice to be there when it isn’t crowded with other safari groups. We won’t have to waste time entertaining or being entertained in other camps. With luck, Jace Elliott won’t be around while we’re there. But if he is, maybe we can make peace.”

  “Have you talked to your lovely ward about becoming one of your investors? She is one of the richest women in England now.”

  “I don’t want to ask Leigh for anything this early in our relationship. I prefer for her to get to know me better. And that will be easier to accomplish away from so many distractions. As you can see, she’s made quite an impression on everyone, especially the young men. I might even confess, I’m more than taken by her myself. But if she makes an offer, I’ll accept it,” Chad added.

  “Find a way to lock into the gold, ivory, or diamond prospects, and I won’t have any trouble obtaining you backers.”

  “Don’t worry, old friend, I fully intend to make my fortune in Africa.” Chad grinned, then parted with Joseph Chamberlain.

  The large but crowded ballroom had become hot and stuffy, so Leigh sneaked outside to cool and calm herself. She was having a wonderful time, but she needed to rest a moment. She had danced countless times and met numerous people. Yet she wished for the presence of one person who was not there.

  Leigh strolled in the garden and gazed at the moon. In a few days, it would be shining on water during her voyage, then over a tropical jungle in Africa. The blonde passed a sparkling fountain, arti
stically planted floral beds, neatly trimmed shrubs, and imported trees, admiring all. She halted near a gazebo to relax.

  Suddenly her lost locket dangled before her vision and a mellow voice from behind said, “I thought you might like to have this back.”

  Leigh had not heard him approach. She whirled and almost seized the treasure from his extended hand. “My locket! Where did you find it? I feared it was gone forever.” Her hand closed around it and sentimental moisture glimmered in her eyes.

  His green gaze traveled over her as Jace replied, “In the alley. It glittered in the moonlight. I’m glad I noticed it. Obviously it means a great deal to you.” As she gazed at the meaningful possession, lost in poignant reflection, Jace observed how the gold threads in her gown matched her hair. The white pearls and creamy fabric made a stunning contrast against her tanned flesh, silky skin his fingers longed to stroke and roam at leisure. Her waist was small enough for his large hands to encircle and nearly meet in front and back. It seemed like ages since he had last seen and touched her; yet it also seemed that no time had passed since their separation. He realized how pleasant it was to be with her again and hoped no one would interrupt this stolen visit. How he wished he didn’t have to sneak about to see her, but that couldn’t be helped for now. Her sultry voice warmed him as she spoke.