The Diamond Hunter Page 21

  ‘I sit here most days in spring and summer,’ she said. She arranged her flint-coloured velvet skirt, which had bold silver embroidery around the hem. A pale shawl sat like a soft fairy cloud around her narrow shoulders.

  ‘It’s such a place of peace and I get to look out over all of this,’ she added, sweeping a slender arm.

  ‘What a splendid secret spot,’ he agreed. ‘Maybe it’s here you will contemplate which of your many suitors to marry,’ he added, helplessly returning to a topic he couldn’t leave alone.

  She sighed. ‘Uncle Reggie has been loose-lipped, hasn’t he?’

  He gave a shrug of apology. ‘I promise he didn’t dwell on it. He simply said you were not in a rush to marry.’

  ‘I’m not. But I would rush to marry someone I loved.’

  ‘You’re clever with words, Clementine. You should teach.’

  ‘I used to, in Africa.’

  He held up a hand. ‘I know. You were highly intelligent?’

  ‘Not were, Will.’ He saw a glint of wickedness in her smiling eyes. ‘I’m teasing you. You’re too easy, you know.’

  It was true. In her company he felt inadequate – a bumbling, hesitant version of himself. ‘That’s because you’re not what I was expecting.’

  ‘The truth is I am spoilt,’ she said. ‘I know that’s what you anticipated and why wouldn’t you? My uncle has indulged me.’

  A breeze blew up over the rise and Will watched, his throat catching once again, as it stirred her hair and then, as he’d hoped, managed to snag a lock of it free to tumble around her chin, just as he’d seen in the photograph.

  ‘I just make sure I don’t show how indulged and privileged I am.’ She looked vaguely troubled. ‘Somewhere in the recesses of my mind is that urchin girl who never had ruffles or ribbons or excesses. My uncle has tried to coax the tomboy out of me but it lives within. I would be lying if I said I didn’t like pretty gowns, but I don’t need —’

  ‘I hear you,’ he said gently. ‘And I admire you all the more.’

  She paused, and regarded him with a clear, penetrating gaze. ‘Thank you. I’m sorry to go on . . . I’ve just never had anyone to talk to about these thoughts, or my past.’

  ‘I’ll listen whenever you want. I’d also like to learn about the orphanage you’re founding.’

  ‘Why, are you interested in becoming a patron?’

  The gauntlet was flung in front of him; he could hardly not pick it up. ‘We donate to various charities. Why not yours? As a new venture it needs plenty of early investment.’

  ‘It’s not a business, Will.’

  ‘But it needs to behave like one so that it does not grind along, forever with a desperate hand held out hoping for charity.’

  Clementine blinked as she considered his advice.

  ‘What I mean is let me help you approach your fundraising in a targeted manner.’

  She grinned. ‘I thought you were a busy city underwriter.’

  ‘I am, but we make our money by avoiding problems. Let me at least lend my expertise.’

  ‘Will, I am not too proud to accept your donations as much as your expertise, but I would have thought the London charities had their hands in your pockets constantly. Why a northern-based orphanage whose founder has no track record?’

  He gave half the truth. ‘Because I’m impressed by your endeavour, your energy for philanthropy, and I’m inspired by your drive. I admit, Clementine, I am used to meeting women of your age and position who aren’t as selfless. Their heads are filled with parties and outings, fashion and status.’

  ‘How do you know mine isn’t?’ Her smile told him she was teasing now.

  ‘I don’t, but given you’ve not muttered important names or social events since the minute we met, I think I’m a reasonable judge. Your uncle tells me you have a different proposition that is all business and no charity.’

  Clementine met his gaze fiercely, as if taking his measure afresh. ‘All right.’ She turned away to look out over the patchwork fields. Black-faced sheep in a nearby field munched contentedly, glancing now and then in their direction. ‘I happen to know that in Hatton Garden, dealers are walking around with thousands of pounds’ worth of diamonds stashed in their pockets as they move between merchants and jewellery houses.’

  ‘Good grief!’

  Clementine nodded. ‘It’s a small neighbourhood, so it’s not as though you would leap into a hackney cab. It’s faster to move around the narrow streets on foot. But if I know this, then so do others, and that makes the dealers vulnerable.’

  This fitted perfectly with his plan to offer insurance against theft. He could barely believe what he was hearing. She took his silence to be encouragement. ‘I read in the newspaper recently that there has been a spate of break-ins in London and that burglars are getting bolder, using violence.’

  He felt a momentary astonishment that she would be reading the newspapers – but of course Clementine Grant would read the London news. ‘This is true. The wealthy are being targeted.’

  She gave an expression of soft despair. ‘It is surely just a matter of time before those thieves go for even easier targets who are on the move, out and about. They don’t even have to hatch a plan of how to break into the property, or spend time hunting for valuables.’

  He frowned, distracted, as he ran a hand through his hair. ‘Just threaten a lone individual,’ he murmured.

  ‘Exactly. A smart criminal knows the man will be carrying a stash of valuables if he times it right.’

  Will nodded, understanding. ‘Don’t tackle them when their pockets are empty,’ he said.

  ‘That’s it. Time it for when the diamond merchants move around “in the wild”, you could say, without protection. You can steal valuable roughs or, if you’re lucky, polished diamonds, and get away fast, disappearing into Holborn and greater Camden before the police could give chase. They’re easy to carry, even easier to hide. And they can be liquidated fast enough through Amsterdam or Antwerp.’

  He shook his head at her. ‘That’s most insightful.’

  ‘I’m glad you approve – because I plan to use my funds to set up a new business offering insurance policies to protect the dealers in Hatton Garden against theft, both within their premises and while their representatives are transporting their product around the neighbourhood. I would like Lloyd’s to consider a partnership.’

  He gave a gusting sound of surprise. ‘You’re so direct.’

  ‘I can’t waste time with ambiguity or opaqueness, Will. I’m a woman!’ She laughed at both her own remark and his alarm. ‘Not used to a woman making business proposals?’

  ‘Not used to a woman making any proposal,’ he said. ‘I’d like to help you make your plan happen, Clementine.’

  She gave him the full heat of her smile. ‘Excellent. I feel strongly about the diamond industry – for obvious reasons – and if I can’t join it because it is a men’s club for now, I can work on the fringes and perhaps pave the way for women of the future. Shall we?’ Clementine stood up and began to walk back towards the house.

  ‘I do support women’s suffrage,’ he added, catching up with her in two long strides.

  She chuckled. ‘Good for you, Will Axford.’

  They began to stroll uphill along the winding path. He heard her give a small sigh. ‘What was that sigh for?’

  ‘I miss summer’s butterflies, don’t you?’

  Will smiled. ‘I’m very fond of butterflies.’

  Maybe this is the moment, Will thought, and didn’t give himself time to back away. ‘I hope this doesn’t sound impertinent.’

  She cut him a wry glance.

  ‘It’s just that I have never seen diamonds as roughs. I wonder, do you still have some?’

  ‘Diamonds?’

  ‘Yes. Rough diamonds – from the ones your uncle brought back from Africa.’

  ‘He didn’t bring any, to my knowledge.’

  ‘Oh . . . forgive me.’ He looked thrown off course. ‘I
was of the understanding that he used the diamonds he’d excavated to help fund some of his, er, projects back then.’

  Now she smiled in soft bewilderment. ‘Will, to my understanding, Uncle Reggie came to Africa to pay his respects at my mother’s graveside. As I remember it, he arrived one hot afternoon, the next day he came looking for us, and by the following evening my father was killed in an accident. By that fourth afternoon he was back on an ox wagon to Cape Town with me in tow.’

  It was Will’s turn to frown. ‘So your father was looking after you at the time?’ This did not match up with Reggie’s account.

  ‘Of course. Granted, he left most of the caring to Joseph One-Shoe but I never felt abandoned or unloved. I had two wonderful fathers. Uncle Reggie told my grandmother he found Joseph detestable but I think it’s because he hated that a black man was caring for me.’

  They were standing below the large, flattish boulders that formed the steps up to the main courtyard of the house.

  ‘Can I tell you a secret, Will?’

  ‘I’d be offended now if you didn’t.’

  She skewered him with her gaze. ‘I’m planning to go to Africa. I have to find Joseph.’

  ‘But you told me he was dead.’

  ‘My uncle told me he was dead.’

  ‘You don’t believe him?’ He could almost wish she would say yes and stop him wondering at his own doubts.

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ she said softly, looking away. ‘I just need to lay it to rest for myself. I saw my mother’s grave. I never saw my father’s but Joseph told me that my father had died in his arms. I have no doubt about either of my parents. But Joseph . . . Joseph and I were connected in ways that are hard to explain, so I am not prepared to trust hearsay. My uncle can’t recall now who told him of Joseph’s death, nor does he know where he’s buried or even if he’s buried.’

  ‘Would he have not returned to his people after you left?’

  ‘I doubt it. He admitted he no longer belonged with his tribe and if my uncle was told of his death then someone at New Rush had to pass that information on. That said, I am not yet ready to believe he’s gone. However, if Joseph is dead, then I want to find that grave and perform some of the rituals that will allow his soul to move on. Zulus have much spiritual belief and he deserves this from his family . . . I am his family.’

  Will swallowed. He didn’t think he could be more impressed by a woman if she tried. ‘Does your uncle know your plans?’

  She shook her head. ‘He would wage a campaign against it; find all sorts of ways to dissuade and divert me. He’s very good at it, although it took me a long time to work that out. Every time I talk of Africa he expertly distracts me, but I cannot be pushed off this pathway. I’m an adult now and the moment my fortune is fully realised, I shall make the journey to the Cape Colony and that town that was New Rush and is now Kimberley.’

  Clementine gathered her skirt and many petticoats. ‘We made a pact, don’t forget,’ she warned gently.

  ‘Our secret, I promise.’

  ‘Thank you. All right. Now, Mr Axford, this is the hard bit – conserve your strength and don’t talk,’ she threw over her shoulder.

  Even so, he thought about it as she mounted the steps, listening to his own breath turning slightly ragged as they ascended.

  At the top he watched her gripping her tight waist and bending over. ‘It never gets easier,’ she said between breaths.

  ‘You made that look effortless,’ he replied, dragging in a deep lungful of air. ‘You don’t realise how fast you are. I think you might have killed me.’ She burst into genuine laughter at this. He held his heart. ‘Actually, I think I need a doctor,’ he said in a voice meant to amuse.

  And amuse it did, all the way into the garden room, where Uncle Reggie had organised their luncheon.

  ‘Well, listen to you two. How marvellous to have laughter echoing around these walls. I do love to see my beautiful Clementine entertained.’

  ‘She deliberately brought me the hard way,’ Will jested.

  ‘Up those wretched stones, eh?’

  ‘Uncle Reggie, how are you feeling?’

  ‘Knee is fine. I won’t test it, though. Let’s sit.’

  ‘I hope cold chicken and new potatoes with greens are agreeable to you, Will?’ Clementine said.

  ‘We keep it simple here,’ Reggie murmured.

  She cut him an admonishing glance. ‘If my uncle had his way for meals, we should have to roll down the hill and we’d never make it across the footbridge.’

  Will gusted a laugh. ‘I’m all for small portions and lighter meals, to be honest, sir.’

  ‘Oh, she keeps me like a stick; insists it will help me to live long.’

  ‘Trust your niece. I do.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Reggie said, pouring himself a glass of wine. He offered but Clem and Will declined, choosing water freshened with a sprig of mint. ‘Milton is off on some private errands today – hope you don’t mind us keeping this informal.’

  ‘Much prefer it, sir.’

  ‘Excellent. Well, to your health, Will, and welcome to Woodingdene.’

  Clementine echoed the toast.

  ‘This is delicious,’ Will admitted after his first sip. ‘I’ve never tasted such a thing.’

  ‘She’s full of these weird and wonderful ideas.’

  Clem shrugged. ‘I don’t know who taught me how to flavour water with herbs to make it interesting. Probably Joseph One-Shoe.’

  ‘Well, it certainly was not your mother, I can assure you. Louisa loved champagne, my darling. And your father, well, he was a whisky man. As much as he could possibly get . . . Anyhow, cheers,’ Reggie said, lifting his glass. ‘To you bright young things.’

  18

  ‘Uncle Reg?’

  ‘Yes, my darling?’

  ‘We didn’t bring any diamonds home from Africa with us, did we?’

  Will was startled to see Reggie choke on what he was swallowing. His host reached for his wineglass and drained what was left, coughing and digging in his pocket for a handkerchief.

  Clementine was on her feet, tapping his back and looking anxious.

  ‘I’m all right, my dearest, sorry,’ he said in between gasps. ‘I must apologise. Fancy draining that superb wine like that.’ He gave a tutting sound. ‘I’ll just ring for some more.’

  Will narrowed his eyes as Reggie limped over to pull on the cord that would alert the downstairs staff. Was Reggie deliberately distracting them?

  As Reggie resumed his seat, wincing at the pain in his leg, Will returned them to the topic. ‘Actually, that was my fault. I mentioned to Clementine about the diamonds you discovered at the Big Hole.’

  Reggie held his gaze and Will noted that something in it was amiss. Possibly irritation, or was that fear? ‘I’m not mistaken, am I?’

  ‘No, you’re correct, Will. I funded a dig over a day and one night based on a tip-off I got at the Kimberley Club. The guests were mostly claim owners or merchants, some of them jewellers or brokers. The collective knowledge of that one type of gem was vast. And they were happy to share it with me. I took a chance, hired some men on one particular chap’s recommendation.’ Will thought that Reggie frowned expertly as he reached back to remember the man’s name. ‘Can’t recall the wretched fellow’s name. Bellows? Bellamy, perhaps? My men got lucky – there had recently been a solid find in a neighbouring dig, but it was first timer’s luck that my dig produced immediately. I simply put up money for someone who had run out of it. We split up the roughs we found – I got a reasonable haul because I’d funded the dig and bought food and beer for the men.’

  ‘You’ve never mentioned that, Uncle Reg.’

  ‘You were so little. Why would I, darling? Ah, Jane, could we get some more wine, please?’

  Will decided Jane’s arrival could not have been timed more exquisitely.

  ‘Maybe we should talk about those days,’ Clementine offered, her tone light. Will cheered inwardly.

  ‘A
ny time, darling, but it was such an unpleasant period. I don’t like to recall it myself, let alone burden you with those memories.’

  ‘They belong to me, though,’ she said. ‘I would love to discuss all that you remember from that time, especially about the day we left. It’s a blur to me.’

  ‘Eat up, you two,’ Reggie said, and Will could see he’d had time to gather his wits.

  Clementine offered Will some sliced chicken and he nodded his thanks.

  ‘I don’t like reminding you of it because it upsets you.’

  ‘I’m not upset, Uncle Reggie. I’m interested.’ She put the platter down. ‘Tell me again.’

  Will paid close attention, taking in every nuance of Reg’s explanation as they began eating. Reggie spoke in a breezy tone.

  He finally shrugged. ‘And it was your father’s servant who encouraged me to take you back as soon as possible.’

  ‘Not servant, Uncle, as you well know. He was our friend and my father’s digging partner,’ Clem admonished him.

  Will leapt in. ‘So he spoke English to you?’ He felt Reggie’s gaze land on him heavily. Clearly Reggie did not need Will becoming interested. Why? What was he worried about?

  ‘He had good English. My niece had taught him well.’

  ‘So you were alone with him?’

  Reggie shook his head, baffled. ‘Yes. This sounds like an interrogation, young Will.’

  ‘Do forgive me. I’m just amazed that a native could speak so well and that they’d risk him alone with you.’ He glanced Clem’s way as a means of asking her to trust him.

  He watched Reggie’s shoulders relax. ‘Oh, I wasn’t scared of him. The man was fairly terrified of me, though – of all the police and the questions. I think he was glad to see the back of us, darling, to tell you the truth. I paid him handsomely.’

  ‘I don’t believe that for a moment, Uncle Reg. You know how much Joseph loved me.’

  ‘Only because you tell me, but you are remembering the thoughts of a little girl. It’s not as though you had much to rely on at the time – a drunk father and a Zulu savage.’