“Thank you, Arcilla.”
Arcilla batted at her arm. “Oh, you know what I mean. You are quite pretty, really. Except you are too prim. That frightens men away.”
It did not seem to frighten her scoundrel brother, Evy wanted to tell her. She wondered what Arcilla would say if she knew of the advances Rogan had been making toward her. But Evy preferred that no one else know about it.
“Rogan is not convinced about Mr. Bartley,” Arcilla was saying. “Parnell knows that Rogan favors Charles. That’s why Parnell wrote him. You should see the letter. It was absurd. Rogan said it looked like a lawyer’s treatise.”
“I do not see how you can thwart your family’s purposes, Arcilla.”
“Not everyone in the family agrees, I tell you. Rogan is not convinced. He has yet to meet Mr. Bartley.”
“What did Rogan advise you to do? He would side with your family’s wishes, would he not?” After all, there would be family wishes and plans for his marriage as well.
“He will meet with Mr. Bartley and make his own judgment, then speak with Father about it over Christmas holidays when we all return to Rookswood.”
“He would want a match that would be most sensible for you.”
“I suppose Parnell does too, but he seems greatly swayed by Sir Julien since he went to Capetown. Thank goodness for Aunt Elosia. At least she thinks a match with the Bancroft family would be favorable.”
“Then perhaps you have no cause to worry unduly.”
“I wish it were that simple. Mr. Bartley will also be coming to Rookswood to meet with my father during the holidays. Now I’ll have to go home for the season instead of being with Charles at Heathfriar, as we planned. But I won’t marry Mr. Bartley.”
Evy leaned back against the cushion. “You must not do anything rash.”
“You are the only true friend I have. You must help me. If you don’t, I won’t have anyone to turn to.”
“You have Rogan.”
“Yes, but he would not stand for my running off with Charles.”
Evy stiffened. Run off? Would Arcilla really do something so foolish? “I do not see what I can do to help you.” What would Charles do if Arcilla suggested running away and getting married? Such a thing would bring sure scandal, and Charles would lose the favor of his family. Evy could not see Charles Bancroft giving up his right to inherit Heathfriar.
“There is something you can do for me.” Arcilla was pleading now. “I’m to meet some friends at the museum at one o’clock for the diamond show. I want you to come with me.”
“Me? But why?”
Arcilla looked away, and little alarms began to sound in Evy’s mind. What was the girl up to now?
“Oh, just because I feel so unsocial. I need you there for support.”
Evy laughed. “Since when do you need me to give you courage in a social gathering? Besides, I doubt my presence will be appreciated by your friends.”
“Well, I shall appreciate it. Oh, Evy, do not protest. It will all be rather boring, actually. Diamonds from all over the world … but one can’t wear them, can one? All one can do is look. And the event is really a show honoring diamond cutters. I need your company.”
This was certainly not typical of Arcilla. Evy did not know what to think of her motive.
“Now, do not get that huffy look and say no before I explain. Because I need you to help me.”
“To do what?”
“I’m meeting someone—alone.” Arcilla waved off Evy’s protest. “Oh, do not look at me that way. It is perfectly harmless.”
Evy was not convinced. “If your brother does not wish you to go off alone, do not expect me to shield your recklessness. I’ve no desire to come up against his displeasure.” Indeed, she’d faced enough of that in her race down the three flights of stairs at Rookswood.
“It is important, I tell you!” Arcilla’s lip shot out in a pout. “Are you my friend or not?”
“It seems I am a friend when you need me to get you out of trouble.”
Arcilla laughed. “Do not be silly, Evy. Of course we are friends. We have been together since childhood. Oh, very well. I will tell you. I’m meeting Charles. There … now you know. Is that so dreadful?”
“No, of course not. Then why must you slip away like this? Do you not see him most weekends at Heathfriar? And he is Rogan’s friend.”
“That’s just the problem. They are close friends. Oh, do you not see my difficulty?”
“You are not being totally honest with me, Arcilla, and I shan’t cooperate with your schemes unless you are truthful. I’ve my own reputation to safeguard, you know.”
“But I am being truthful. Charles knows about Mr. Bartley, and we must meet alone and discuss the future.”
“He learned so quickly?”
“Rogan met with him yesterday. Charles saw Parnell’s letter. Rogan explained the difficulty facing my father should he oppose a marriage Sir Julien thinks is important to all of us. You look curious and confused, I know. I do not understand everything either. Rogan never explains all to me. He says I wouldn’t understand. It does concern the Chantry interest in the diamond mines owned by Sir Julien. That should help you understand the horrid situation I’ve been forced into. I’m a pawn in the plans of relatives in Capetown as well as here in England. Rogan told Charles not to see me during Mr. Bartley’s stay in London. Don’t you see? It is so unfair to me and Charles.”
“I’m sorry you’re in this situation. But if you are not supposed to see Charles, then a secret meeting will only make matters worse.”
“How will Rogan find out? You won’t tell him, and neither will I.”
“I’d rather not become involved in this.”
“Of course not. But I must see Charles once more! Please, Evy!”
Evy was sympathetic, but she could just imagine her own difficulty if things went awry and Rogan discovered she had abetted his sister in something so reckless.
“Just this once.” Arcilla placed a hand on Evy’s arm. “I won’t ask your help for a clandestine meeting with Charles again. I promise.”
As if Arcilla could resist further opportunity to see the man she claimed to be in love with. And what of Charles? Did he not realize the situation he was placing Arcilla in by agreeing to meet with her in secret?
“If Charles is such a good friend of your brother, why is he willing to deceive him?”
“Oh, Evy, you are such a novice about love.” She clasped her hands together, intertwining her fingers. “Charles and I are deeply in love. We should rather die than be forever torn apart.”
“That sounds much like Romeo and Juliet. But I think you have felt the same way about several other men in your life.”
Arcilla actually looked a bit wounded at that. “You laugh, but that is merely because you are so dour you do not know what love is.”
Evy stiffened. “I know enough to realize that deceiving family and friends for a secret meeting is not likely to come to a good end.”
“No lectures.” Arcilla held up her hands. “I have endured enough of them!”
“Then I will go now and trouble you no longer.”
“Oh, Evy, you are impossible. No, please, do not go. Say you will help me—just this once.”
A heavy sigh escaped her. Did Arcilla have any idea how troublesome this could become? Did she even care? “How long will you be gone?”
“Not long. Thirty minutes, maybe less. All you need do is occupy Heyden van Buren with conversation until I return. Ask him all about the gem show. That will keep him talking. He is as boring as Rogan on the subject of diamond cutting. I will be as quick as I can. I promise.”
Heyden. Evy fought the heat that threatened to surge into her cheeks. She hadn’t seen the man since he’d witnessed that dreadful scene in the Rookswood library. “What is Mr. Heyden doing at the diamond show?”
Arcilla’s pretty brow furrowed. “You look rather affected by him. Do you know him?”
“I met him in the library
at Rookswood last August.”
Arcilla gave her a quick scrutiny. “He will never marry you, so do not hope for such a thing.”
Evy could not stop the bark of laughter that escaped her. “Whatever gave you such a silly notion?”
Arcilla arched her brows. “Oh, come. I know that wistful look.”
“You know nothing of the sort.”
“His family was one of the early voortrekkers.”
“Boers, mostly farmers.” Evy had studied up on the Hollanders, who had first gone to South Africa in the 1600s, while the Puritans had gone to America.
“Yes, well anyway …” Arcilla lifted her hand, showing she had little interest in history. She had hardly passed the subject when Aunt Grace taught it at Rookswood. “Rogan thinks that Heyden van Buren’s family agree with the cantankerous Boers when it comes to who rules South Africa. Heyden’s family is not well off, though he has a good education.”
“I assure you, I have no romantic interest whatsoever in the man.” Evy kept her tone calm and cool.
Arcilla’s trilling laughter filled the cab. “That is why I like you, Evy. You are not afraid to say what you think. Too many others fear I will exclude them from my balls and dinner parties if they speak their true minds.” She turned in the seat to face Evy, her hand extended like a waif pleading for crumbs. “Then you’ll come with me to the museum?”
Evy nodded. She had her own reason for attending now. If Heyden van Buren would be there, then a few questions about the theft of the Black Diamond were appropriate. Rogan had said that Heyden had some suspicions of his own about who had taken it from Cape House.
“As long as you promise me you will not use this occasion to run away with Charles Bancroft, I’ll go with you.”
“You have my promise.”
Evy gave Arcilla a quick look. The girl’s meek response did not bode well … but never mind. Surely she would not be such a ninny as to run off with Charles. And even if she would, surely Charles had more sense.
At least, Evy fervently hoped so.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The carriage drew up alongside the museum, and they were assisted out. Evy saw Heyden van Buren standing on the wide steps. He came forward, smiling, and removed his hat, his eyes fixed on Arcilla. She exploited the moment, despite the negative things she had said about him in the cab.
“You are late, Miss Arcilla. I was beginning to worry. I should have met you at Montague and escorted you.”
Her tinkling laughter showed delight, as though pleased he had worried.
“You are looking beautiful,” he told her. “You shall put the diamonds to shame.”
Again, she laughed and favored him with a sweet smile. “How kind you are with your compliments, Mr. van Buren. You make a humble young lady such as myself blush.”
Evy was astounded she kept a straight face, and remained in the background unnoticed until his wintry blue eyes recognized her. There came a visible start of surprise as he must have recalled the scene in the library, then a small glimmer of approval as his eyes dropped over her. Evy resisted his flattery.
“Miss Varley, isn’t it? This is a surprise. I think my friend Rogan Chantry failed to properly introduce us at our last encounter.” He smiled and bent over her hand, his fair hair catching the sunlight. “Permit me to introduce myself. I am Heyden van Buren, and as you would know by now, my family is acquainted with Sir Julien Bley of South Africa.”
“Yes. I have been informed. Will you be staying long in England?”
At the glint of curiosity in his eyes, Evy felt a twinge of apprehension. Was he putting events together? Was he linking her with her mother, and did he believe her mother had been at Cape House and run away with the Kimberly Black Diamond? The idea was so egregious that she felt her cheeks tint. If only she could disprove it and salvage her mother’s reputation.
“A few more weeks,” Heyden was saying. “Then it’s home again to South Africa.”
He was older than she had first thought, perhaps ten years Rogan’s senior, which would make him around twenty-eight. He was browned from the South African summers, and the lines at the corners of his eyes were not the work of aging but of the sunshine. His accent was rather strange too, bringing to mind the man Evy had met in the woods so long ago. She preferred the richer tones of Rogan’s precise British.
Inside the museum, guards were everywhere. One quiet, vaulted chamber of marble and glass was roped off, and diamonds of all shapes and sizes—some in the rough—were displayed on a background of black velvet under shimmering light. Special guests were invited to a catered luncheon to hear lectures by some of the most revered diamond cutters from around the world. In spite of her first inclination to refuse Arcilla’s request to accompany her, she was now pleased she had come, not merely to ask questions of Heyden should the opportunity arise, but to see the glorious display of the world’s diamonds.
Heyden seemed to appreciate her avid interest and informed her which diamonds had been sent from Capetown for the show. He pointed out a blue diamond, which was catalogued, “The Blue Rand, Kimberly, 1876.”
“Sir Julien Bley’s.” There was tension in Heyden’s pronouncement.
“I understand your Uncle Carl van Buren and Julien Bley were at one time partners in a diamond mine.” She did her best to sound casual.
His brow twitched. “Yes, I was a small boy then. You probably know of the mining accident and how Sir Julien bought the van Burens out. We are not on the best of terms now … You have heard?”
“That you are an Afrikaner, yes.”
“In British Capetown, Miss Varley, there is a great dislike for the Boers, to use a British term. Most of my people are loyal to Paul Kruger and the Transvaal Republic. That’s where I grew up with my grandmother. Though it’s presently under Dutch rule, that may all change soon. Since gold has been found in the Transvaal, the British officials in Capetown, including Sir Julien, are trying to influence London to seize the area. They will not be satisfied until war is provoked with the hope that British sovereignty will be established throughout all South Africa.”
Evy was aware of the recent newspaper accounts of disagreements between the British government and the Dutch farmers, but she had not formed an opinion on the matter. Perhaps that might change later, but with other, more personal concerns on her mind, trouble with the Boers seemed far away and of little consequence.
“Sir Julien Bley rightfully questions my allegiance to British rule in South Africa. I’ve never made any bones about my political convictions. But I do not fret … There are other ways to win my rightful seat at his banqueting table.”
He studied her so thoughtfully that she grew uncomfortable. His look was much the same as Sir Julien’s when he’d scanned her so intently in the parlor with Lady Camilla.
She gave a small shrug. “Sir Julien still has a great interest in what became of the Black Diamond.”
“Then Rogan told you of the scandal surrounding your mother?” Evy started, and his mouth turned down. “That is most unfortunate. I feel she was unfairly blamed.”
His words caught her off guard, and she gave him a smile of relief. “Somehow I thought you believed in her guilt and offered Rogan your convictions.”
“I shall tell you a secret, Miss Varley. One of the reasons I came to England was to arrange a meeting with you about your mother. I have information that you will find very interesting. We cannot talk here, however. I had hoped to speak with you at Rookswood, but Rogan”—he smirked—“actually threatened me, the young cub. If I set foot again on the estate, I’m quite sure he will have me thrown off.”
She looked at him, trying to fathom this new development. Why would Rogan not wish her to meet with Heyden about her mother? “You feel my mother was innocent?”
“I do. If she took the diamond on the night of the storm when she fled in the buggy, then what happened to it? I’ve questioned the old Zulu woman.”
“The one they say helped my mother escape in t
he buggy?”
“Yes, Jendaya. I’ve made a trip into Zululand since the war. I am the only one who has managed to speak to her. She said there was no diamond because your mother was convinced that Henry Chantry betrayed her and ran off with it. Jendaya entrusted you to Henry who took you to Natal. From there, arrangements were made to bring you to Grimston Way.”
Master Henry had betrayed her mother! Rogan had not mentioned this … so he must not be aware of it. “Then it really was Master Henry who stole the Black Diamond.”
“I am convinced of it.”
That could only mean Lady Brewster had been wrong when she wrote him absolving him of guilt. But how to prove it? And how to convince Rogan?
Lady Brewster’s letter would not help—in fact it would likely discourage Heyden. She did not think even he knew its contents. Rogan had been quite closed about the matter.
“You do not know how your words lighten my burden, Mr. van Buren.”
“Heyden, please.”
“I thought I was the only one who believed in my mother’s innocence. I think the charge is incredible. She was a Christian missionary.”
His golden brow went up. “A missionary?”
“Yes, of course, at Rorke’s Drift. Why she would even be at Cape House makes little sense to me. I told Rogan so, but he insisted my mother was there that night. But I cannot imagine she would know Master Henry. So this supposed betrayal makes no sense. Unless—Yes, it is quite possible that my mother was at Cape House that night for some Christian purpose. A duty to perform, no doubt. I intend to find out someday.”
She looked at Heyden and was startled at his intense regard. “I see … I believe you are in … some confusion about your mother, Miss Varley. We do need to talk. But now is not the right moment. When can we meet again? Alone?”
“I can meet you at Regents Park the first Saturday in December.”
“Yes, very fine.”
That Heyden understood her dilemma was tremendously reassuring. At last she had an ally.
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