The Queen of Diamonds Read online

  She nearly dropped the precarious cask. Her wrist itched to throw it at him. "I'm not an emotional wreck. I'm a logical woman. With that logic, I'll suggest you have an ulterior motive for making me distrust my husband."

  He was silent for a moment; then he replied, "Usually, you'd be right. But not this time."

  She didn't know what else to say. "My husband is honorable. You are not." Catherine jogged the rest of the way to the mine, and this time, Harrison didn't follow.

  * * *

  Marcus was in a fury. "Have you heard about that large claim owner, Trenton, and all his problems with illicit diamond buying? The workmen are stealing from right under his nose!"

  "That's awful."

  "So he's offering a reward to catch the latest thieves."

  "Do you think it will work?"

  "Yes, I do. Abraham and Foster are going after the blokes. That arrogant sod Foster told me that I needed to stay home and look after my wife." He ripped open the bureau drawer. "Can you believe that?"

  "What business is it of his?"

  "Exactly!" He yanked out a clean shirt and buttoned it over the dirty one he still wore. "And then Abraham goes and agrees with him!"

  "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm not going, of course. Their words worked the way they'd intended. They scared me well enough to make sure they only have to split the reward two ways." He sat on the bed to slip his feet into the dusty shoes he'd only just discarded.

  "Where are you going?"

  He shot her an impatient glare. "I need to relax."

  "Couldn't we-"

  He looked at her pityingly, effectively cutting her off. "Whenever I look at you, I think of how I've failed you. Two whole weeks and all we've found is one measly diamond."

  "But that's something, isn't it, Marcus? Remember how excited we were?"

  "Then I returned to reality." He stood. "Good night."

  Catherine mouthed the words back to him, hoping this time he'd return before dawn.

  * * *

  When Marcus got into that kind of mood, he was usually gone for the entire day. To take her mind off everything, Catherine found the courage to give some attention to the other reason she'd come to Kimberly. To find her parents.

  She went to see an older woman who was known to have a mothering-type relationship with many of the diggers. With that position came information, and Catherine had been told that if anyone knew anything about her parents, it would be this woman.

  Catherine had saved a penny here and there, enough to buy a loaf of sweet bread. She went to the woman with this in hand and found her sitting outside her home just observing her surroundings. Taking it all in. Catherine already felt optimistic.

  "Hello there," she said, approaching cautiously. "I was hoping we could have a chat."

  The woman looked up at her with interest. It was obvious that she took in everything about her appearance, from her worn dress to her dark, thick hair. "How nice to meet you. What is your name?"

  "I'm Catherine Clare-" Catherine caught her breath, shook her head, then started again. "I'm Catherine Watson. I brought you this."

  Eyeing the bread first, the woman gestured to the chair beside her. "You can call me Elsa. Please join me. Are you feeling a little lonely in this town where men outnumber the women ten to one?"

  "Well, yes. Certainly."

  "I know how that is," she said, then laughed. "And a pretty girl like you must get all the attention."

  It doesn't seem to work that well with my husband, she thought, then brushed the thought away like a desert gnat. Catherine sat and crossed her ankles.

  "What brings you to Kimberly?"

  "The same thing that brings everyone else here. Diamonds."

  "Well, there are many who come here to serve the miners. Do you have a claim, then?"

  "Yes. Haven't had much success with it, I'm afraid."

  She nodded. "You don't seem like the type."

  "I didn't feel like I had much of a choice."

  Elsa unwrapped the parcel of bread and broke off a chunk. "Why is that?"

  Catherine looked away. "My parents left me as a young child with relations and I feel I have to earn my own way through this world. That actually brings me to why I came to see you."

  "Oh?"

  "I was told that you were both sociable and observant. I was hoping you might have some information for me."

  "On how to earn your keep?"

  "No, about my parents." Catherine let out a breath of exhaustion. "They were here in Kimberly."

  "I see." Elsa reached down and picked up a dented mug. She took a hearty gulp, then said, "I hope I can help. What are their names?"

  "Fanny and Leonard Claremont."

  "That does sound familiar." Elsa stared off into the distance as though she'd find the answer there. She tapped her foot impatiently. "Were they speculators?"

  Before Catherine could answer, a shadow blocked the heavy midday sun and both women looked up. A large man, who she felt she had seen before, was approaching, his eyes on Catherine. Had Marcus sent him? Was something wrong?

  "Hello, Elsa," he said, still watching Catherine. "Making new friends?"

  "Hello, Montgomery," Elsa replied. "This is Catherine Watson."

  Montgomery came even closer, standing at Catherine's side.

  Catherine wanted to do the polite thing and look up to greet the man, but to her absolute mortification, she realized he was standing so close that to look up would be to look directly at his most private areas. Never did she miss the formality of England as much as she did at that moment. She wouldn't be introduced to such a man so casually back there and be forced to make an acquaintance she neither desired nor thought wise.

  "How nice to meet you, Miss Watson," he said, his hot breath raining down on her.

  "Yes, charmed," she said and offered a wan smile. She prayed he would move. She thought she could feel his body heat he was so close. Her breathing became shallow as she tried not to move.

  At last, he stepped away. He tried to catch her eye, but Catherine felt so uncomfortable she could only manage a quick glance. "Until the next time," he said, and with the tip of his hat, he was gone.

  Catherine looked at Elsa and was surprised to see her laughing quietly. "You certainly got his attention," she said.

  Not knowing what kind of relationship the woman had with him or how she knew him, Catherine just nodded noncommittally. "The last contact I had with my parents was through a messenger, General Bryce, who came to find me in England. My parents had sent with him a rough diamond, intended to help pay for my keep. Apparently, they found it here. I have no other information. For all I know, they might have been wildly successful mining here. Or that could have been all they ever found and they sent it to me."

  "They don't keep in contact? They didn't send a message along with the diamond?"

  "No."

  "My apologies, Miss Watson, but they don't seem like they want to be found. Until you came here, it was a simple matter to find you, was it not?"

  Catherine frowned. "Why yes, but-"

  "Some people are not meant to be parents."

  "I don't know if that is true. Surely, they have plans to become reacquainted with their own daughter! I suppose a young child would be burden for the kind of life they wanted to live, full of adventure and exploration, but I could join them now. I'm here now, in fact, on my own adventure."

  "With your husband."

  "Yes, with Marcus. He and I have set out on our own."

  "And what would you do if you found yourself with child?"

  "Well, I am taking precautions," Catherine said after lowering her voice. Funny how etiquette just seemed so different here, like being on another planet. "But if that happened, I would just have to adjust my plans, I suppose."

  "You wouldn't find a distant relation to raise your child for you?"

  "I couldn't imagine doing such a thing, no." She frowned again, realizing the point Elsa was trying to make. "
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come here and burden you with my troubles."

  "Don't apologize, Miss Watson. I just thought you might benefit from a more realistic hope."

  "What are hopes if not lofty?" She stood and brushed the dust off her skirt. It seemed to settle every time she stopped moving. "So it seems I'm out of luck. You have no information about my parents?"

  Elsa continued to eat the bread. Between mouthfuls, she replied, "I will ask around for you. If they were here for any time at all, there will be someone who knows about it."

  Catherine smiled. "That is so kind of you. I don't know how to thank you."

  "You can thank me if my inquiries prove fruitful. Until then…"

  She nodded. "I'll be back."

  Elsa almost tipped her cup upside down finishing the last dregs of whatever liquid it held. Whatever it was, the smell of it was so strong, it nearly burned Catherine's nose to breathe it in. Elsa chuckled, looking past Catherine to the distance again. "And tell your husband to keep an eye on you. There are many men like Mr. Montgomery out there."

  "Oh, I'll be sure to give him the message," Catherine replied and hurried off before the odious man came back.

  * * *

  Nine days later, Mr. Abraham and Harrison returned triumphant. Catherine wondered if Harrison failed at anything. She wished that this time he had, if only for the way his success affected Marcus.

  "Do you hear the things they say?" Marcus demanded of her, bringing up the subject for the third or fourth time. In a mocking voice, he said, "Oh, aren't they brave for going after those scary men? They should be rewarded!"

  "And-"

  "They don't know that being paid for their wonderful deed was always the plan. How can these people be stupid enough to believe that Foster would do anything for the good of others without being compensated?"

  Catherine didn't know how he could assume such a thing, but dared not question him. Both men did seem to glory in the adventure of it, which was why her husband had been so eager to go with them. She continued to clean up the coffee grounds Marcus had spilled when he'd run in to tell her the news.

  Marcus grabbed the metal frying pan, still warm from lunch, and spun it in his hand. "I should have been a part of that! I'm starting to realize that a lot of money can be made in Kimberly, but finding diamonds is the hardest of them all."

  She crossed the room to stand in front of him, then reached up to run her fingers through his hair. "Don't make yourself sick over it, Marcus. I'm sorry that you weren't able to go because of me."

  He dropped the pan. It clanged loudly on the floor. Resigned, he sat on the edge of the bed. His shoulders slumped and he cried, "I want us to leave here millionaires."

  She sat next to him. "We also came here to look for my parents. Maybe we can finally take some time to-"

  "Always back to the same thing, Catherine," he snapped. "The plan was to dig for diamonds first."

  "That's not how I remember our conversations."

  "Things don't always work out the way we've planned." Hunched over, he rested his forehead in his hands. "David is the one making all the money, when he doesn't even have a wife or anyone else to support. And he just keeps making more!"

  "Maybe you can ask him what he does-"

  "I know what he does. Just like Foster, he lies, cheats, and steals."

  Caressing the back of his neck, she replied, "You shouldn't assume things like that just because they've had more success than you."

  He recoiled from her touch. "You think they're better men than I am, don't you? They're the ones who could've provided for you and yet you're stuck with the useless third son."

  "You're not useless and you know I don't care one whit about your inheritance or lack thereof." She touched him again, this time between his shoulder blades, massaging him with her knuckles. "Besides, we've had some successes. What about the second diamond we found just yesterday? It was bigger than the first."

  "It's still not enough," he replied, standing and nearly knocking over the cheap, tallow candle. "I could spend that in one night at the saloon."

  Through gritted teeth, she replied, "I respectfully request that you do not."

  He rolled his eyes. "I suppose this is what I get for coming here with a wife. Remember when David told us that very few females come to Kimberly?"

  She nodded.

  "Too late, I've figured out why." Marcus pulled his coat off the hook on the back of the door. "I could do so much more with my freedom. I can't help but wish I had come here alone." He opened the door.

  Catherine's heart beat hard against her ribs and a sickening feeling took hold of her stomach. "Where are you going?"

  "I need to go for a walk."

  She nodded, even though her lips trembled behind his back at both the insult and at the thought of being alone in the dark.

  He left, shutting the door behind him with a delicate click. No slam, no yell. Just a passionless dismissal.

  Getting up, Catherine pushed the bureau against the door, as they usually did together every night. When her husband finally returned, he would have to wait until she moved it back. Blowing out the solitary candle, she lay back on the uncomfortable mattress and cried. Curling into a fetus position, she somehow found solace in her dreams.

  * * *

  The banging on the door woke her with a start, crumbling the memories of her happy, scandalous dream into a dull ache in the center of her body. As she gradually returned to reality, her face burned, recalling the dream. She reached for her dressing gown and slippers, mortified by her adulterous subconscious.

  She'd been dreaming of Harrison.

  "I'm coming," Catherine cried, squinting at the bright light shining through their one, small window. She slowly dragged the bureau away from the door, the voices outside becoming louder. They seemed to be raised in anger, and if she hadn't heard Marcus's voice mixed in with the others, she wouldn't have revealed that she was at home.

  As soon as she opened the door, Marcus stormed in. "Where did we hide that diamond, Catherine?"

  "Diamond?"

  "The one we found!" he yelled impatiently. "Get it!"

  David followed her husband into the shack, a frown etching worry lines across his face. "Why don't we stop this, Marcus? You're upsetting your wife."

  Catherine backed away from the two men, her hair warmed by the sunshine shining through the window she leaned up against.

  With a violent scowl, Marcus strode across the room and grabbed David by the shirt collar. "You'll take my wife from me as well?"

  "Marcus, please. I'm sure he didn't mean anything like that."

  He glared at her, not loosening his grip on David. "Men like him will take everything and anything," he said slowly, scathingly. "Now, where is that diamond?"

  She inched towards the door. "Do you think it's a good idea to reveal our hiding place?"

  "Why not?" he cried. "This bastard won't steal from us the hard way. He gets his cronies to do it the easy way. Like chipping away at my claim in the middle of the night and pretending my diamonds were discovered in his claim!"

  Quickly retrieving the diamond from within the hem of her best dress, Catherine handed the rough stone to her husband.

  Marcus released his friend in order to seize upon the diamond. He shoved it in David's face. "You see, it looks exactly like the one you found today. That new discovery came from my claim."

  "Marcus," she said, "you know there's no way to determine such a thing."

  "Shut up!"

  Catherine backed away, into the thin pallet. "Please, Marcus," she whispered plaintively. "Let's go back to England. I don't like it here."

  "Do you actually think we can afford the passage with this piece of rubbish?" he questioned, throwing the diamond against the floor at her feet. "We're stuck here until people like this scumbag stop cheating us."

  She trembled in the corner of the room.

  "This is preposterous!" David spit out. "I've tried to befriend you, but you'd rathe
r make the acquaintance of paranoia and greed."

  "He's right," Catherine said. "He's been nothing but kind to us."

  "And what do you think is his motivation?"

  "Does he have to have one?"

  "Yes!"

  David threw open the door. "I'm sorry your husband had to ruin a good thing, Mrs. Watson. Good luck to you both."

  Marcus glared at her, then went after his former friend. "Don't presume to tell my wife anything, you pretentious sod," he yelled.

  With that, he was gone. Again.

  Tears quickly returned, her eyes still sore from the night before. When Marcus came back, she wouldn't let him in until he promised to make preparations to go home. They could stay in Cape Town until the ship arrived. Anything was better than this hellhole.

  Catherine held one hand with the other, trying to suppress tempting self-destructiveness. She wanted to rip the curtains from the windows and pluck the straw from the bed. Instead, she sat by herself in the oven-like room, wondering what had possessed her to come to South Africa.

  * * *

  Two days later, Catherine was on her way back to the iron shack with two casks full of water, her back aching from the strain. She was starting to worry about Marcus. He'd left their home in a fury many times, but he'd never been gone for more than twenty-four hours. This long absence was something new and she couldn't help but think the worst.

  If only she had come to the decision to go home a few days earlier, he might be with her at that very moment, on their way back to Cape Town. Then perhaps she could find some semblance of happiness in her new life.

  She was assuming, of course, that Marcus would change once they were back in England. As usual in the past two days, tears threatened when Catherine thought of the man she'd married compared to the sullen, domineering husband he had become. But she was still his wife and she felt helpless not knowing where he was. When she'd asked the few people she knew in Kimberly about his whereabouts, she'd learned nothing. No one had seen Marcus since the night he'd argued with David.

  Catherine breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the shack, sweaty and weary from the strain of the heavy water. She perked up when she saw that the thin door had a piece of paper nailed to it. Had Marcus left her a note? Moving as fast as she could with her burden, Catherine hurried to read what it said.