Susan laughed. "That's nonsense as well. You cannot deny your only suitor."
Catherine lamented, wishing her cousin would find a new pastime.
Susan twirled, admiring her reflection in the glass doors of the barrister bookcases. "Why don't you wear something of mine?"
Stifling a groan of frustration, Catherine replied, "And pop out of it again? I'd rather not."
"Isn't that what caught Mr. Watson's attention initially?"
"Bite your tongue, Susan." Catherine left the library, hearing her cousin's well-heeled shoes click into the hallway behind her.
"I didn't mean anything bad by it," she hurried to say. "There's no need to be so sensitive."
"Then there is no reason for you to apologize, if one can even call that an apology." She could hear the sound of voices coming from the drawing room. "Is Mr. Watson in the drawing room?"
"No, but do remember to say hello to Mama's friends when you go by," she said snidely, knowing that was the last thing Catherine wanted to do.
Cringing at the thought, Catherine nonetheless walked in that direction after she said good-bye to Susan. She could only hope Marcus had not run into Elizabeth Shaw. Each time her aunt greeted him, her words were followed by an appropriately scathing remark. Catherine was not allowed to take pleasure in anything, be it a dress or a man.
Catherine saw the tea trolley being wheeled into the drawing room by one of the manor's many maids. Pausing outside the door, she leaned in to see who Aunt Elizabeth was entertaining this time. She cringed when she saw Mrs. Newsome, Angelica's mother, along with Mrs. Majory. Thankfully, they didn't see her.
The maid left the tea on the folding table and left the room. Catherine stood her ground, confident in her invisibility.
"What were we saying?" Aunt Elizabeth mused above the many clinks of stirring teaspoons. "Ah, yes. Mr. Watson."
"Yes," Mrs. Newsome replied. "I was about to say that he is the third son of Grant Watson. A sad state of affairs when even his first son doesn't stand to acquire much of anything."
Their laughter was sharp.
"It's not as though Catherine can do any better," Mrs. Majory added.
"Why he's interested in her, I'll never know," Aunt Elizabeth said on the crest of a pained sigh. "Whatever Mr. Watson's reasons are, I hope he doesn't find the prospect too daunting. We would be so grateful if he could take her off our hands."
"Miss Claremont!" Marcus cried from a distance. "There you are."
With a sigh of disgust, Catherine slipped away from the open door, her stomach painfully clenched. For a brief moment, she moved back towards the door, her mouth open in protest. But then she slunk back into the shadows, her complaints firmly silenced.
She didn't have the guts to confront her aunt. Never would.
Catherine met Marcus halfway. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, even after what she'd just heard. It was hard to believe such a handsome man was courting her.
He gripped her hands tightly and returned her smile. "There's a man here to see you, Miss Claremont."
"When did you take to speaking in the third person, Mr. Watson?" she asked.
Marcus's hand moved farther up her arm, leaving a tingle of arousal in its wake. "No, it's a soldier who's come to see you from abroad." He squeezed her forearm. "He's brought news of your parents."
Her breath caught in her throat, causing a painful feeling in her midsection. Catherine hadn't heard from her parents in almost a year and she hungered for the smallest piece of information regarding them. Turning her hand palm-up to touch Marcus, she said, "You'll come with me, won't you?"
"Of course, my darling," he replied. "They're in the study."
Catherine made her way towards the study, her knees weak. When she opened the door, Susan and her father were already making polite conversation with the stranger. The soldier was standing against the dark mahogany bookshelves, wearing full military regalia. He bowed at the hip when Catherine approached him.
Her uncle stopped talking when Marcus followed her in. "I'm sorry, Watson, but this is a family matter. Perhaps you would like to wait in the drawing room?"
Catherine's eyes went wide. "Please, Uncle, may he stay? I know it is a bit unusual…"
She could see her uncle was weighing his options, probably considering the danger of letting Marcus slip away. After all, he was the one they were hoping would save her from a pathetic spinsterhood. He shrugged. "Might as well."
"Thank you."
Her uncle nodded and said, "General Bryce, may I introduce you to my niece, Miss Catherine Claremont?"
"Charmed, Miss Claremont."
Smiling nervously, Catherine replied, "Likewise, General Bryce. You have news from my parents?"
It took him only a moment to follow her abrupt question. "Yes, I do. When I left them, they were in Kimberley, South Africa. They've done quite well in the rush."
Catherine was stunned at the irony. She wished that at this happy time, the moment she'd been waiting for, she wasn't picturing Angelica's snide face. "That's wonderful! Are they coming home?"
"I'm afraid not." He didn't meet her gaze when he spoke, focusing instead on Susan's father. "I'm not certain what their plans are, but I know they didn't expect to return to England any time soon."
Gripping the sides of her dress with damp, sticky hands, Catherine tried not to react publicly to his news. She wasn't sure what kept her parents away from their only daughter, but after today, she could no longer pretend it was a matter of finances. "Is that all? May I return to my guest now?"
"Catherine!" her uncle admonished, glaring at Marcus as though his presence was at fault.
"I apologize, General Bryce. I must admit some disappointment at your news. Or lack thereof."
"I'm sorry for giving false hope. The purpose of my visit leans more towards the delivery of goods than information." He took a couple steps towards her uncle's desk and picked up the small brown bag resting atop the blotter. Catherine watched General Bryce open the bag and extract a small, handkerchief-wrapped item. He handed it to her. "Open it."
No distinct shape protruded through the cotton. Without delay, Catherine unraveled the handkerchief and stared down at a small piece of dull glass. It had uneven edges and a slight yellow tinge. "What is this?"
"That, Miss Claremont, is an uncut diamond."
"A diamond?" Catherine asked in a calm voice that her excited eyes no doubt belied.
"Yes," he said, looking at her cousin. "Mr. and Mrs. Claremont dug it up themselves."
"They sent this to me?" Catherine stared down at the diamond and wondered at its worth. The acquisition of it filled her with a strange confusion of emotions.
The general closed his bag. "They asked me to deliver it to you along with the money your aunt requested as compensation for your food and board."
Her aunt walked into the room at that opportune moment, finally having torn herself away from her friends. She glared at the general when he made his last comment and bit out, "My sister can be so crass. Imagine, sharing such information with-"
"Dear," her husband said patiently, "General Bryce has known Catherine's father for many years."
Catherine didn't have to look to know her aunt was pursing her lips with disapproval. To divert her mind from the sickening feeling enveloping her entire body, Catherine asked, "Are there many diamond mines?"
"No, but the few that exist probably won't be the last. We are searching all over Africa for the next great digging site. But Kimberly won't be exhausted any time soon. We've barely even scratched the surface."
She looked back at Marcus. His eyes were wide in wonder. He continued to stand behind her, but his focus was gradually drifting away from the general.
Since the general didn't have any more information for her, Catherine couldn't stomach another moment in the dark, claustrophobic study. "If you don't mind, I would like to retire to my room. It was so nice to meet you, General Bryce."
The men stood as Cather
ine walked towards the door. Marcus bent over to kiss the back of her hand, sending a shiver up her spine. "We will talk later," he whispered.
Catherine simply nodded. The childhood taunts were true. Her parents hadn't wanted her when she was a baby and they still didn't. She gripped the small diamond tightly. She didn't know what it meant for her future, but she did know that no amount of money could make up for being unloved.
There was only one person she could look at when she left the room. She met Marcus's fervent gaze, his eyes full of promise. As she fell asleep later that night, she'd think of him and not the parents who only had eyes for each other.
* * *
It was much earlier than usual the next morning when Susan came to tell her Marcus had arrived.
When Catherine hurried into the drawing room to greet him, she found him standing in front of the hand painted fire screen, his hands locked tightly behind his back.
"Hello, Mr. Watson."
He turned quickly, clearly startled. "Miss Claremont."
She smiled shyly. "I didn't mean to give you a fright."
After crossing the room in three long strides, Marcus gripped her hands. "I've been up all night thinking of you… thinking of everything."
Blushing, Catherine sat on the nearest divan, primly crossing her ankles and carefully avoiding his piercing gaze.
Still holding her hands, he sat next to her. "How would you like to find your parents?"
"Do you think it's possible? How?"
"We could go to Africa."
"We?" she asked, slowly.
Marcus loosened his hold on her slim fingers and leaned back. "After you left the room last night, the general told us all about the rush. You should have heard it! Fortunes are being made every day."
"And my parents?"
"Yes, your parents. Well…"
Again, he was hesitating. Catherine was starting to wonder if he was talking about something very important indeed. And what she thought it might be turned her stomach over in excitement. "Please, Mr. Watson. Continue."
"If we went there, we could not only reunite you with your parents, but create a future for ourselves." There was a fire in his eyes she'd not seen before.
Marcus fell to his knees before her. "Marry me, Miss Claremont."
Catherine's first thought upon hearing those words was to rejoice that someone finally wanted her. Forever. She reached for his arm and pulled him up, gasping, "I don't know! This is so much to take in."
His eager expression loomed before her. "Please make me the happiest man alive."
She stood up, unable to sit at such a time. She felt shy to look at him, so she paced towards the mantel and made a study of the items displayed there. "But this must require quite the investment. There's our passage to Cape Town to think of, money for supplies, having a place to live… Have you thought this through?"
"The diamond your parents sent you. General Bryce and I left the house together last night. I got an answer out of him on what that gem might be worth. If we were to sell it to a dealer in London, we'd have enough to fund the trip."
She nodded, pleased he had a quick answer. "I've only just acquired that windfall. I've hardly started thinking about what I might do with it."
"Under normal circumstances, the money is not enough to seriously affect your future. You would still need to find work if you stayed in England. But in Kimberly, you'll have a chance to change everything for the better."
She stared at a bronze duck on the mantel, eyes blurring the longer she did so without blinking. "When you describe what things would be like for me if I stay here, you make no mention of yourself. Are you saying you only want to get married if I agree to your plan?"
His clothing rustled loudly as he fidgeted. "I want to marry you under any circumstance, but I'm not sure I realistically could. I don't have the income to support a wife."
Forcing herself to turn around, Catherine looked at him as though for the first time. He could have lied about marrying her either way, but he didn't. She didn't feel he was trying to mislead her in any way.
"I think I should go," he said. "Give you some time to think this over."
Catherine watched him leave the room through moist, blurry eyes. What if he didn't come back? Catherine stood and followed him a few steps to the door. Her aunt said she was lucky to have any suitor at all. If she let Marcus walk out that door-
"I'll return tomorrow for your answer at the earliest hour that is decent," he said, erasing her fears.
"I'll be here," she said quietly, collapsing onto the nearest soft object. Her eyes had only just closed when she heard the light patter of footsteps come into the room.
"Catherine," her cousin cried, "I just saw Mr. Watson on his way out. He looked very shaken. He didn't end things, did he?"
"Quite the opposite. He asked me to marry him."
"I don't believe it."
Catherine slowly opened her eyes. "Neither do I. Perhaps I dreamed it."
Susan sat on the divan Marcus had only just vacated. "This is very exciting!"
"That's not the full of it either. He thinks we should go to Kimberly, find my parents, and dig for diamonds."
"Oh, Catherine, you must be joking! Diamonds? You two?"
No longer smiling bemusedly, Catherine replied, "It's not so farfetched. We won't be the first, nor shall we be the last. There will be many couples just like us in the camp."
"There will also be many… natives," Susan said quietly.
Catherine sighed. "I should think so."
Susan screwed her face up into an unattractive expression of skepticism. "I just find it so strange that you would agree to such a thing." She fingered her necklace. "Don't you think it's very coincidental that Mr. Watson proposed right after you acquired a large sum of money? Is that how you'll pay for the expedition?"
Her cousin was shrewder than she thought. "Marcus is no fortune hunter."
"Are you sure about that, Catherine?" she asked, her tone harsh.
"I should hope so. He chose very poorly if he was looking for a rich woman. There were countless girls just at Angelica's ball that would have served the purpose better." The aggravation that Catherine had been trying to suppress was becoming more obvious the longer she spoke. "The trip to Africa will likely exhaust the entire amount gained by selling the diamond. Would a man get married just for a chance at riches?"
She nodded. "Yes, when he has nothing to lose."
Catherine stood. "I think you have always seen me as the poor relation, with nothing to look forward to besides taking care of other people's children. I want my own life, not the life of a spectator. Perhaps you're finding it difficult to picture me in a different role."
"I'm only looking out for you," she said, reaching for the lemonade Marcus had not touched. "I just can't imagine you going to Africa. You'll be wasting two months of your life just in the traveling."
"But I'll be with Marcus, and I love him," she said, experiencing a light feeling in her head at the thought.
"This idea of his is just too daring for you, cousin. Stick to your books, Catherine. You won't find any gray areas there."
Catherine was taken aback by the statement. "What are you saying, Susan? That it's too exciting for me?"
"Yes," she replied, her expression quite serious. "You're not the kind of woman who does such things."
"Maybe I want to be. Have you even considered that?"
Susan shrugged and looked away.
How many more times would she be insulted by her Aunt Elizabeth and mocked by Susan before she did something to change her situation? Just like Marcus, she complained of being the poor relation. Always indebted to someone for every thing she received. It was time for a change. Catherine wanted to be her own woman, with her own life, with her own future. She knew what she had to do.
"I shall do it. I will marry Marcus Watson," Catherine stated aloud.
I'm going to Africa.
Chapter Three
The doc
k was crowded with people, each man different from the last. The ship traveling to the Cape of Good Hope would be full to the brim with eager diamond rushers. Catherine stood back and watched the cacophony from a distance, glad she was already on the deck of the Jealous Mistress.
"Are you as daunted as I am?" Marcus asked, standing beside her. "I never thought there would be so many people. I've never been to Liverpool before. I wonder if the docks are always like this."
"It is a little overwhelming."
"You haven't changed your mind, have you?" her husband of only ten hours asked quietly.
"No, have you?"
"No," he replied and they were silent once again.
Catherine was left with her thoughts.
Her wedding day had been pleasant enough. She'd worn her first new dress in many years, paid for with a small portion of the diamond money. The ceremony was quick and to the point, performed during the regular Sunday church service. Afterwards, the family-including Marcus's parents and brothers-adjoined to Shaw Manor for brunch.
Then night had fallen and she'd joined Marcus in the marital bed. Catherine hadn't known what to expect at all. Marcus had been shy and careful, as though he hadn't known either. But he was tender and she might have enjoyed herself more than she was supposed to. From what she understood, a good wife endured her husband's amorous advances. She didn't revel in them like a harlot. Catherine had suppressed her desire to cry out and had restrained her urge to take control. She both feared and eagerly anticipated what other surprises marriage had in store for her.
"Catherine, I think I see someone I know. Do you mind waiting for me right here?" Marcus pointed to the railing she gripped so tightly.
Catherine swallowed over the hard lump in her throat. "No, of course not."
He walked away quickly, as though he'd been meaning to for quite a while.
Catherine shook her head to erase the sudden, destructive thoughts. Why should she assume the worst? Maybe because the worst is what you usually get.
"You look a little delicate for a trip like this," a man slurred.
Catherine turned around and almost turned back when she saw the speaker. It was one of the shipmates, older and more wizened than most. She took a step closer to the rail, away from his grinning, dirty face. "What do you mean by saying something like that?"
The Queen of Diamonds Page 2
