Yesterday's Promise

by Linda Lee Chaikin

  So Rogan wanted the Black Diamond too! And that was the reason he hadn’t contacted her? She looked across the parlor at Heyden. “How did Rogan learn Jendaya may know where it is?”

  “The same way I did, asking questions, putting two and two together. He was after the Black Diamond when I first arrived at Rookswood to see him. Why do you think he threatened me? Wanted me gone from London? At that time we both mistakenly believed the diamond could be hidden in Rookswood. He pretended it was only the map that interested him. But there again, he lied. He’s after Jendaya now. He’ll force her to tell him where it is. She’s an old woman now and wouldn’t be able to put up much resistance.”

  Evy felt the tension in her face. “Has Jendaya told any of this to Sir Julien, or Jakob at the mission station?”

  “No. She refuses to talk. She’s afraid. But when I told her about you, Cousin Evy, it seemed as if new life entered her old body. ‘I must see Miss Katie’s daughter,’ she told me. She repeated this to me several times until she persuaded me to bring you to South Africa to see her before she dies.”

  Heyden took both her hands into his. His earnest gaze searched hers. “Say you’ll come, Evy. Come to the Boer Republic to meet some of Katie’s relatives. As I said, Jakob also has a longing to meet you. He’s a good man. You’ll like him. He’s like an uncle. And there’s Inga, my mother. She can tell you all sorts of stories about Katie, and there’s Inga’s granddaughter, Katrina. They’d more than welcome you to Katie’s old home.”

  Evy was overwhelmed by all this news of relatives longing to meet her. “I was never told any of this.”

  “Both Rogan and Sir Julien knew of us in the Transvaal all along, but they’ve deliberately kept you away. Now Rogan wants to get the Black Diamond for his own selfish plans, which also include Lady Patricia Bancroft. I’m afraid, Evy, you’ve been played for little but a pawn. We both have.”

  Her back stiffened at the thought of being used. New thoughts trampled through her mind that only added to her anger.

  “Rogan knows Katie and Henry didn’t have the diamond when they left Cape House that night. He’s spoken to Julien about it too. But now it serves his purposes for the old tale about Katie and Henry and the Kimberly diamond to survive, obviously to keep others from finding it. And of course he doesn’t want you there talking with Jendaya.”

  She turned away, her emotions churning.

  “It’s time you came to South Africa, Cousin Evy. Please say you’ll come back with me.”

  Her hand went to her forehead. “I must think about all this, Heyden. But if what you say is true, I will want to find out for myself. Not just for Katie’s reputation, but to discover the truth about my father, too.” She looked across the room at him. The lamplight cast dancing shadows on the wall behind him.

  “Do you know who my father was?”

  He was very still, watching her thoughtfully. The troubled frown slowly vanished from his brow. His face was smooth and blank.

  “Jakob can tell you for sure. And that’s another reason for you to come to South Africa.”

  “If Jakob thinks he knows, then it’s likely he also told you.”

  He walked over to her. “Yes. He said it was Henry Chantry.”

  She stared at him a long moment while everything she had dreamed about and prayed for suddenly turned into ashes. It seemed as though the storm crooning around the house swept those ashes to the four winds.

  “Then…I am a Chantry?”

  He nodded in silence.

  She gripped the sides of the chair. “I see…”

  “Cousin Evy, I fear my words have affected you. I’m deeply sorry for that. You must still care for Rogan Chantry.”

  She blinked rapidly, keeping back the stinging tears. She said quickly, firmly, “No—not any longer. It’s over now.”

  He nodded gravely. The wind moaned and continued to hurl the rain against the windowpane. A horrid sensation ran over her. That wind, that rain, that silence, and unease—it reminded her of that dreadful afternoon at the cottage in Grimston Way.

  An expression of wonder crossed his face. Then he looked away and threw his cigarette into the fireplace. “It was so unfair of Sir Julien not to tell you about Henry all these years,” he said angrily. “He knew you were involved with the Chantry children, Rogan included. I suppose that’s what we should expect from that sort of ruthless fellow.”

  Evy calmed her heart. She’d been foolish to react in such a guarded fashion toward Heyden. It was from the memory of the frightening ordeal, of course. Sometimes it came rushing back without warning. She prayed that she would eventually get over it.

  She said in a low deliberate voice, “Someone murdered Henry Chantry thinking he had the Black Diamond. That could not have been Rogan. He was a mere boy at the time. Though I’ve no doubt that he would have wanted it. Someone else those many years ago did it, and whoever it was must be brought to justice.”

  Heyden folded his hands, fingers intertwined, and brought them to his chin, his eyes fixed upon her as she sat in the wing-backed chair near her crutches.

  He nodded slowly. “I’m relieved you think your father was murdered. I feared to add that burden to those I’ve already placed upon you. Yes, I’ve always thought someone took Henry’s life. I wouldn’t be so quick to eliminate anyone, though, if I were you, Cousin.”

  “What do you mean? Surely you don’t think Rogan—?”

  He drew in a deep breath, let his hands fall to his sides, and shrugged. “It’s been known to happen before. A boy who can and does commit a dreadful crime. He was in Rookswood that night. He had opportunity and cause.”

  Every fiber of her body and spirit resisted his implied accusation.

  “No, impossible,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Not so impossible as you might think. He wanted both the map—and the diamond. Rogan’s always been fixated on that map from boyhood, hasn’t he?”

  She knew that was true, yet she couldn’t…wouldn’t accept the worst.

  “I see this is too much for you. Well, that’s understandable. We won’t discuss it any further. Except to say that I do think Rogan is capable of doing whatever it takes to accomplish his goals. He’s been that way since childhood. And I wouldn’t simply discount him.”

  “That also goes for everyone in the extended family. None of us can be excluded.”

  “You’re right. Anyone old enough at the time could have done it, perhaps even Lord Brewster—or his wife, Lady Camilla. She’s a little unbalanced, you know.”

  She nodded. “So Sir Julien claims.”

  “Not only Julien. Everyone who knows her says so. She’s kept in her room at Cape House most of the time now.”

  Evy reluctantly recalled what her aunt Grace had said about Camilla’s delicate mental balance. Was it possible she’d become unstable only after murdering Henry?

  “But what reason would Lady Camilla have?”

  Heyden did not flinch. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was Henry Chantry she wanted to marry, and not Anthony Brewster? Oh yes, after Henry’s first wife died of African fever on the Zambezi, Lady Camilla had hoped her father would arrange a marriage with Henry. He had been attentive to her in the past, you see, and she loved him. Again, it was Sir Julien Bley who managed to have Camilla’s father give her in marriage to his nephew Anthony Brewster.”

  Evy was stunned.

  “So you see, it could be any of the Chantrys, Bleys, or Brewsters.”

  “You’re excluding the van Burens,” she said quietly, calmly meeting his eyes.

  He smiled wryly. “Yes, although we’d have less opportunity. None of the van Burens were in England when Henry was murdered. And that can be proven.”

  Thunder rumbled outside. Reminding her again of…someone in the attic of her cottage…someone in Grimston Way.

  “If you go to see Jendaya, I think the truth will at last be known,” Heyden was telling her. “It will be up to you and me to bring the truth to Sir Julien. Naturally,
Rogan Chantry will do everything he can to stop you, to stop us both.”

  She knew her amber eyes must be glittering, and her face felt warm with emotion.

  “We’re in this together, Cousin Evy. I’ll do all in my power to back you up and see you have what is yours by right of birth.”

  It wasn’t her “rights” that Evy wanted to fight for but the truth about Katie and whether her father was Henry Chantry.

  Her thoughts of Rogan now brought pain to her heart. The memory of his warm lips on hers had been with her through the long, lonely nights. But if Heyden was right, Rogan was absorbed in pursuing his passions, gold and the Black Diamond. Somehow she was not entirely surprised by this. Had he not always been willful and determined about Henry’s map? But he must have kept his secret desire for the Black Diamond hidden.

  She thought of South Africa. If only she hadn’t injured her spine when she’d fallen. Would her physical limitations even permit such a long and arduous journey?

  Heyden had not mentioned her crutches. He had shown discomfort at first seeing her with them. But he had seemed able to dismiss them from his thinking, almost as though denying reality. No doubt he’d done this out of regard for her, to convince her nothing had changed. If that was his intention, she felt grateful. She didn’t want anyone’s pity. She wanted God’s grace and strength upholding her, confirming that He was at work in her life, that her impairment did not make her a candidate to be placed on the shelf as an unused vessel.

  He smiled. “You look so much like Katie. I have seen her photograph. Jakob has it. You have her tawny hair, her eyes, her spirit. You will come, won’t you? To your people, and to the Transvaal? It will be good to come home to where you belong.”

  Home? Evy was not able to agree, not yet.

  “I can’t give you an answer now, Heyden. I need to think this over, to pray before I come to a decision. This is so sudden, and there is much to think about. I’m going to Grimston Way for a few days with Mrs. Croft. After that, I’ll let you know my plans.”

  “Yes, you’ll need to think about it. When are you leaving for Grimston Way?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “You’re going back to the cottage where you had the accident?” He frowned. “Do you think you should?”

  “I’ll be staying with Vicar and Mrs. Osgood.”

  He nodded his approval. “Then I’ll see you in a few days.” He handed her a calling card showing his hotel and number.

  “I do hope you’ll decide to return with me, Cousin Evy.”

  She smiled as he squeezed her hand.

  When Heyden had gone, her smile disappeared. In spite of everything he’d told her, she still remained uncertain about South Africa, about her abilities, and about Heyden.

  Late that night she found she was unable to sleep as more unsettled questions tossed in her mind. Since Katie had relatives in the Boer Transvaal, then why had she become the ward of Sir Julien Bley? Why hadn’t she been sent to Carl van Buren’s relatives instead? And why did Katie not flee with her baby to the van Burens? Because of her love for Henry Chantry?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Evy arrived in Grimston Way with Mrs. Croft the next afternoon. “You sure you won’t settle in with me and Lizzie?”

  “Thank you just the same, Mrs. Croft. I’m planning to stay at the rectory, since Vicar and Mrs. Osgood have already asked me.” It would bring back so many memories staying in her old bedroom again.

  “I’ll be there to fix breakfast. You won’t be meeting with the twins till tomorrow, will you? I don’t like you going off alone without me, dearie.”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Croft, I’ll be careful. There’s one thing about these crutches—I can’t run off easily.” She smiled, trying to lighten Mrs. Croft’s worries, but the woman had remained somber ever since learning the truth about her fall the night before.

  “Well, I won’t worry so long as you’re with the good vicar and Martha, but promise me you won’t go to the cottage alone for your things.”

  “I promise. Without help I can’t do much about the trunks and Uncle Edmund’s desk anyway. And believe me, I’ve no wish to mount those attic steps alone!”

  Vicar Osgood had come to meet them in his jingle. After speaking to Evy and telling her that Martha had her room ready, he winked, and turning to Mrs. Croft, he said, “I’m glad you’re home again, Mrs. Croft. No one in the village can come close to baking as you do. I’m looking forward to your hot fresh bread with butter while you and Evy are here.”

  Vicar Osgood drew up at the rectory, and Mrs. Croft went off to the cottage in search of Lizzie. Evy worked her way toward the rectory while the vicar went ahead carrying her two small bags. Evy paused at the gate, looking toward the familiar rectory where she’d grown up. Aunt Grace’s crimson roses were in full bloom, nodding their heads in the breeze. A mockingbird went through his medley of songs in the apple tree, and the white ducks quacked and waddled across the yard toward the pond.

  Her heart swelled with warm, nostalgic memories. Derwent, with his russet hair and freckles, seemed to come from the trees smiling as ever. She could almost hear Aunt Grace calling her indoors to supper while Edmund studied his Bible at his parson’s desk, his spectacles slipping down his small pug nose. If she turned toward Rookswood, she could envision a young Rogan Chantry riding his black horse, handsome and arrogant as ever.

  A deep sigh came from Evy, and she was aware of the crutches pressing into her arms, of her fingers tightening on the handle grips. She blinked hard. Don’t be a fool. Why torture yourself like this? Life moves on, so keep going. Jesus has not changed. Depend on His faithfulness, His love, His good plans for you. He hasn’t ended your life—nor is it His will for you to surrender and give up.

  She drew in a breath and walked forward, the flowers along the walkway nodding in agreement and sending their sweet fragrance her way. A blue and yellow butterfly gently flitted past her. Bees hummed contentedly at their work. A summer cloud drifted by, and for a few minutes the afternoon sun was masked. A strange sensation ran along the back of her neck. She turned her head to look toward the road where hemlock trees grew tall and shadowed the area. The branches sighed in the wind. A foreboding came with the wind that blew lightly against her face, flipping the brim of her stylish hat.

  “Psst!”

  Evy turned back to the garden and looked toward the Jacaranda tree, where the hiss seemed to come from.

  “Over here, Miss Evy. It’s me, Wally,” came a whisper.

  She could not see him but assumed from the direction of his voice that he was behind some bushes, keeping out of sight.

  She glanced farther ahead toward the rectory, but neither the vicar nor Martha had yet appeared. Evy left the pathway and walked toward the bushes, as though enjoying the blooming daisies and periwinkles in their display of white and blue.

  “This way, Miss, by the privet hedge…I can’t let anyone see me. Someone’s been trailing me all week. Got my goose flesh up.”

  This news alerted her greatest fear. “Are you sure? Who?” she whispered, bending over a yellow rose.

  “Can’t say. Someone’s been watching me for two days now. Whoever it is won’t catch me, though.”

  She hoped Wally’s notion was merely his and the twins’ detective imagination, but it worried her, nonetheless. This was no game, as her crutches proved.

  “Be careful, Wally. Don’t take chances. And whatever you and the twins do, don’t upset anyone with your snooping.”

  “Oh, we’re careful, all right, don’t you worry none. And Hooper Detective Agency ain’t snooping, Miss.”

  He head popped up between some bushes, his straight brown hair ruffling in the breeze beneath a droopy forest green felt hat. He grinned. “Miss, can you meet us at the pond in an hour?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll be there, but remember what I said about being careful.”

  “Sure, Miss Evy. We’ll be there too. Say, welcome back, Miss.”

  Evy
heard the vicar calling, and Wally quickly dived back into the bushes.

  “Coming, Vicar,” she called over her shoulder and walked back to the pathway.

  Soon after luncheon when the vicar took his afternoon snooze and Martha was busy at the back of the rectory, Evy was able to slip away from the house and make her way into the familiar garden and down the path to the pond. Thankfully, it was only a ten-minute walk, and she was able to get there without stopping to rest. She was becoming more accustomed to the crutches, and her daily exercises to strengthen her back and spine seemed to be helping. Perhaps one day she would, as Dr. Harris had said, need but one crutch—or only a cane. Please, Father, let it be so.

  The pond was a pleasant retreat this summer afternoon. The white swan was out gliding on the water, doves were lying in the sun on the warm ground, and sparrows chittered, perched high in the trees overhead.

  She walked to the stone bench and set her crutches down, looking around for Wally and the Hooper twins. The pond was a sheltered area, enclosed with hedges and birch and elm trees. The weeping willow fluttered its branches in a swaying dance over the pond. The gray water rippled contentedly below a clear sky.

  Evy sat down on the bench and waited, glancing about for some sign of the children. All was silent and peaceful. She had left a few minutes early, so she tried to relax and soak up the sunshine. How nice it was to be back home.

  The branches scraped behind her, and she turned her head.

  “Psst, it’s me again, Miss. Is it all clear?”

  “Yes. Are the twins with you?”

  “No, their mum kept ’em in for piano lessons. Since you left, Mrs. Tisdale’s been giving them their lessons. But it’s okay, because they don’t know any more than I do. And I’m the one who has the stuff hidden.”

  A moment later he stood up from the bushes, a tall boy for his fourteen years, with long arms.

  “Maybe it would be best if you’d come back here so no one can see us, Miss.”

  Evy stood and made her way into the cluster of trees and bushes. Wally’s eyes glistened and his face was flushed. He gestured to a sack that he had under a bush.