The Queen of Diamonds

by Moore, Juliet

  Catherine dropped her cards into a pile of ash. She quickly picked them up again, nearly burning the tips of her fingers. Across the table from her, Harrison met her eyes and steadied her with them.

  At that moment, the saloon door opened and a man came in. The door was practically blown into the opposite wall by the gust of wind that followed, damping the floor with a torrent of rainwater. The man headed straight for their table. Straight for Mr. Trenton.

  "Sir, it's a downpour out there. The worst storm I've seen. If this continues-"

  "I'm in the middle of a game."

  "But the claim-"

  "When I'm finished, I'll come take a look. Until then, do the job I paid you for and keep things under control."

  "Are you sure you-"

  "Go!"

  Feeling awkward, Catherine kept her eyes on her cards.

  Trenton growled and led the next hand, but lost it to Catherine and Harrison. He wasn't pleased. "It's fortunate you have a reputation for playing fair, Mr. Harrison. Because my mind does not seem to be on the game right now. Between the infernal rain and talk of people I don't like-"

  "That's another hand to us," Harrison said. "So exactly what kind of problem did you have with Watson?"

  "Unlike you, Mr. Harrison, I'm not only successful in cards. I also have one of the good claims out here. Large and produces pretty reliably."

  "Yes, and?"

  "Sometimes the kaffirs working for me get it into their heads to steal from me. They find a diamond, no one's looking, and it goes right into their pocket."

  "What do you do when that happens?"

  "Never mind what happens to them," he said and passed the play to Catherine.

  Catherine was last to play in that round and she looked at the cards already on the table. They were playing clubs and the highest club card had been played by Mr. Trenton: a nine of clubs. Catherine had the Queen of Clubs in her hand, but she also had a ten of Clubs. She played the ten and won the trick.

  "If you really want to know about Watson, Watson is a buyer."

  "IDB," Harrison said with understanding.

  Catherine looked at him, confused.

  Harrison then said, "Illicit diamond buying."

  Mr. Trenton nodded. "Watson bought diamonds from my kaffirs, then sold them to a dealer. I have reason to believe he made quite a large collection just before he disappeared."

  "How do you know this?" she asked Trenton.

  He threw down a card that won the hand. "I caught him in the act. There was no denying it. Watson is now persona non grata in this town."

  The play had come to the last round. Harrison won it with a mischievous grin.

  Trenton cursed colorfully, glaring at the table and at Harrison. "Why do you care so much about that scoundrel anyway? Does he owe you money too? I guarantee you he won't be able to pay it."

  "Don't worry about what I want from him," Harrison said. "Maybe he's my cousin."

  "Then you have my apologies." Trenton picked up the cards and stacked them neatly. "Lovely playing with you."

  Harrison pushed back his chair and stood up, so Catherine followed suit. The confidences were over and staying would be a mistake. Trenton was not as kind as his jovial manner would attest to. She and Harrison made haste for the door.

  * * *

  It was still pouring outside, but Catherine followed Harrison right out into it and allowed herself to be drenched.

  Harrison patted his pockets as though to make sure the money was still there. "I don't usually do half as well as that. Catherine, you are a genius at whist."

  "Thank you," she replied, blushing. It was nice to please someone for a change. "So what next?"

  "We need to speak to Trenton's workers. We can find them in the compound. If we can get one of them to speak to us, we might be able to figure out what happened."

  She turned towards the street. "Which way?"

  "We can't go now," he said with a chuckle. "It's raining."

  "If I can take a little rain, surely you can."

  "You don't understand. Rain like this out here in claim town can be devastating. Like I was saying earlier, a claim is essentially a big hole. The rain fills it up and it can take hours to empty even after you've rented a water pump from one of the local price gougers."

  "So everyone will be busy pumping water out of claims right now?"

  "Yes. And I think we need a break."

  She sighed. "I can't take a break when I'm so worried about Marcus. You hear what these people are saying about him. He could be lying hurt somewhere."

  "He's not."

  "How do you know?"

  "He's either gotten himself killed or he's left you."

  She stared at him, the rain soaking every inch of her body. Not knowing what to say, she didn't respond. She didn't have it in her to argue any more. She couldn't tell him he was a fool and completely wrong about her husband because she had a strong feeling she would be the fool if she did. Catherine wiped the water from her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. "What am I going to do?"

  Now he was looking at her without saying anything. The rain was beading on his eyelashes even and plastering his hair to his head. Finally, he said, "You can go home."

  She felt her eyes fill with tears. "I want to go home."

  Harrison frowned, then stepped forward. He wrapped his arms around her, her dress reacting with an unladylike squish. He pulled her head against his chest and blocked the rain with his downturned head. "We'll figure this out. Everything will be all right."

  She felt warm in his arms. And safe. She hadn't felt safe in a long time.

  Catherine used all of her energy not to cry. She knew that if she let go, she wouldn't be able to stop.

  Harrison caressed the back of her head with his hand. "But right now, let's just get somewhere dry."

  She pulled away from him, then immediately wished she hadn't. If it were up to her, she'd probably never leave his arms. The thought was as wrong as it was frightening.

  They were both shivering by the time they got back to the ramshackle house. Harrison slammed the door behind him and went to the small chest that held his clothes.

  Catherine went to her trunk and also pulled out something plain and warm to change into. She laid it on her pallet, then looked over her shoulder at Harrison.

  He had already removed his shirt, his back to her. Even from behind, she could see his muscular arms and shoulders. The temperature of her lower half suddenly sparked with desire and she looked away shamefully, her face a hundred degrees hotter.

  She could hear every move he made, finely tuned in to each action. She could hear when he put on his shirt, then fiddled with the buttons. Then he stopped moving. She peeked over her shoulder. He had turned to look at her. Without meaning to, she quickly looked away guiltily, which made her look worse.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I forgot again."

  "Hmm?"

  "The problem with sharing one room. Getting dressed." He wore a dry shirt, but his trousers were dripping water onto the ground.

  She couldn't imagine how much he wanted to get out of them. Then she blushed, even though he couldn't know what she was thinking.

  "If you could just keep looking at the other wall, I'll quickly put on a dry pair of trousers."

  "Oh, of course," she said, already turning to study the wall again. "I was trying to do that, but when you stopped, I thought you were done."

  The rustle of clothing filled the small room, then he said, "Finished."

  Catherine turned to look at him. He was dressed again and completely dry. She, however, felt like a damp sponge.

  She realized what he expected her to do only a second before he said, "Now it's your turn. I'll look away."

  "What? I can't-" She frowned, looking down at her dripping skirts. She quickly went through the options in her head. There were none. "It's improper."

  "Not much is proper about these circumstances."

  "It's embarrassing."

  "Do
you have a better idea?"

  "No," she said, frowning.

  "Then get it over with." He sighed. "Are you afraid I'm going to look?"

  "Well, no, it's not that. It's just … what if you see something by accident?"

  "How would that happen exactly?"

  She wrung out the bottom of her dress as she fretted. "Through something reflective?"

  He laughed. "I'll close my eyes too. Would that please you?"

  Now she was only left with accusing him of dishonor. If she were to trust what he said, then there would be no issue. Holding her breath, she quickly removed her bodice. Then came her camisole. She stopped wearing a corset two weeks ago, and she was thankful it didn't impede her progress now. Her chemise was all that remained now, water making it transparent and thin. It clung to her breasts, revealing light brown nipples stiff with cold. She felt a delicious tingle between her legs at being so exposed near an attractive man such as Harrison. She wanted to press into something and had the sudden desire to wait until he was asleep and-

  She shook those thoughts away with a violent shake, her wet hair raining droplets in an arc across the room.

  "Hey, no need to play wet doggy with me," he said.

  Hearing his voice while she was half-naked was even worse for her sanity. And the worst part was yet to come. She peeked over her shoulder at him to assure herself he wasn't looking, then went all the way. She lifted her chemise over her head and dropped it onto the pallet next to her dry clothing.

  She shivered, her naked skin covered with thousands of tiny bumps. Except for the heat between her legs, she was completely chilled. Hands shaking with nerves, she picked up her dry chemise and pulled it over her head.

  Then Harrison sneezed.

  Catherine jumped, her breasts bouncing as she quickly pulled the chemise down to cover herself. She checked on him and all she could see was his back. Somehow, she still couldn't trust him. She pulled on her skirt, then her camisole, and then her bodice.

  With an exhausted sigh, she collapsed, fully dressed, onto her pallet. She felt as though she'd just run a race.

  "Are you finished?"

  "Yes."

  He turned and opened his eyes. "You look winded."

  She raised an eyebrow. "Don't tease."

  He smiled. "I'm sorry. I know this is uncomfortable."

  "I suppose there was no avoiding it."

  He nodded. "Perhaps I could have waited outside while I was still in wet clothes. You could have changed first with the house to yourself."

  Her brow wrinkled with consternation. But then she thought for a moment and shook her head. "Yes, but you would have had to endure the rain longer and that wouldn't be fair."

  He shrugged. "I would have done it if I had thought of it."

  She believed that to be true.

  He crossed over to a trunk in the corner. "I know it was a rough day for you, so while you were getting dressed, I had an idea."

  "Oh?"

  He opened the trunk and rummaged around a bit. Then he pulled out a small, dark blue tin. "I've been saving this, but I thought tonight would be a nice time to share it with you."

  She looked at what he was holding. It was a tin of English biscuits, exceedingly rare in Kimberly.

  "We can make some of that Dutch coffee you like. We'll relax for a change. Maybe you can tell me some stories about that odious cousin of yours."

  Catherine smiled, warming instantly, inside and out. "She wasn't all bad. I kind of miss her actually."

  "I want to hear all about it. Good and bad."

  "And what about you? What can I learn about your family? You are a blank canvas to me, Harrison."

  "It's a sad story with an unhappy ending. I wouldn't recommend it."

  "Ending? Surely, it's not over yet."

  "We shall see, won't we?"

  "I've been thinking about something," she said, pacing the small room. "I have a confession to make."

  "Let me guess. Marcus isn't truly missing. You killed him."

  "And what would you say if that were true?"

  "I'd be a little frightened, but also impressed."

  "Oh, stop," she said with a grimace. "That's no laughing matter."

  "So tell me the real story."

  She took a deep breath. "We've met before."

  He raised an eyebrow.

  "In England. I'm sure you don't remember any of this, but I was one of three girls at an inn you visited. The other girls were tormenting me, but you saved the day."

  Harrison laughed heartily. "Of course I knew that was you. Did you think it was a secret all this time?"

  "You never brought it up!"

  "Why would I tell you about it? We were both there!"

  She pouted. "How did you know I was the same girl? Surely I look very different today than I did back then."

  He shook his head. "Not really."

  Sitting down on her pallet, she stared at her blanket.

  "You have that same scared look on your face these days as you did back then," he continued. "It's starting to get a little better lately, but not by much."

  "Oh, forget it. I'm sorry I brought it up."

  He smiled. "I'm glad I rescued you that day. I wish I could do the same right now. If only it were that simple."

  She had thought it might be that simple when she'd gone running to him initially. He always seemed so strong and capable. "Coffee sounds like the best solution right now."

  They spent the next few hours amicably, drinking coffee and eating biscuits. She told him about Susan, about what she could remember of her parents, and about what she'd planned for her future, all while the rain pounded the tin roof. He listened to every word, even refraining from commenting that those plans involving Marcus were probably lost. The one thing he didn't do was tell her anything about himself. His past, as much as his future, was still a mystery.

  Chapter Eight

  They lost two valuable days to the rain.

  Two days in which her husband was still missing. Two days closer to the departure of the ship. It would be her last chance to leave, if she was forced to give up on her future with Marcus.

  At least Harrison was able to get the name of one of Trenton's workers. William was rumored to be heavily involved in the IDB trade, yet still somehow retained his job.

  The compound was open on all sides, but it was rumored that it would soon be completely enclosed, freedom a lot harder to come by. They found William at the first dwelling near the entrance. He was eating his evening meal when they found him, obviously a short break after a long day of digging. His black skin was covered in the red dust of Kimberly as he ate a small bowl of mealies on the front stoop.

  Harrison made the introductions. As usual, money was the currency with which he hoped to buy information. Harrison crouched in front of him. "I'm going to get straight to the point. I'm looking for information about someone. I am willing to pay generously for that information."

  William looked up from his meal. "Go on."

  "What do you know about Marcus Watson?"

  "He's a good man."

  Catherine smiled and nodded at Harrison as though to say she told him so.

  "How do you know Marcus Watson?"

  "He's a good buyer. I get the diamonds and he buys them from me. He gives me a good price, not like some of these crooks in Johannesburg."

  "Where do you get your diamonds from?"

  "I work for the big corp, Trenton Consolidated. Sometimes I find some things. Sometimes they don't make it into the collection bins at quitting time."

  "So you steal from your employers?"

  "The diamonds belong to the earth. How do they belong to one man any more than another?" William puffed his chest up and spoke louder. "Mr. Watson has helped me more than anyone in this place. He always treated me and my brothers with respect. And because of this, we trusted him. We saved up some of our finds until we had a nice collection. He gave us money for these diamonds, more than we have ever seen. I can bu
y many goats to take back to my tribe, all thanks to Mr. Watson."

  Harrison was nodding. "So this large collection happened recently? Mr. Watson gave you a large sum directly for the diamonds?"

  "Yes. He needed a little bit of time to get the money together, but he has friends. He said it was hard to get that much, but I know it is good for him. He will sell those diamonds to a dealer at a high profit. He wasn't fooling any of us."

  "Which claim did all of these finds come from?"

  "Trenton Consolidated."

  "All of them?"

  "All of them."

  "So I suppose Trenton isn't a big fan of Mr. Watson?"

  He chuckled. "No, I suppose not."

  "I don't know if you realize this, but Mr. Watson is missing."

  "Is he now? I doubt the man is missing. For such a large amount of diamonds that didn't belong to him, he would have had to go to Cape Town to sell them. That is where he is headed, no doubt about it. He knew his days were done in this town. He'd played too fast and loose and got found out. Mr. Watson won't ever return to Kimberly. He'd be dead if he tried."

  Catherine shuddered and stepped away. When Harrison followed her, she lowered her voice and said, "How do we know he or his associates didn't do something to Marcus? They could have gotten the money for the diamonds, then followed my husband and stole the diamonds back. This way they'd have both the diamonds and the money."

  "Be reasonable, woman! Watson got the diamonds and ran. And he wasn't thinking about you when he did it."

  She backed away, stunned and wounded.

  Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion nearby. Two large men came to get some of the workers. There was a lot of yelling and protestations. The gist of it was they had stolen from their employers in the same way William was just boasting of.

  Harrison stood in front of her. "These people don't like being stolen from."

  "Obviously," Catherine replied.

  "Which is why I think it's time for us to go."

  "We haven't stolen anything."

  "But your husband has." He held her arm and walked her quickly towards the exit. "If anyone connects you to him, there could be trouble."

  They turned the corner of one of the attached homes and ran straight into Elsa.