Tomorrow's Treasure (2 page)

A sob came from her tight throat.

“Do not be foolish, Katie girl.” He spoke with gruff tenderness. “Even if I knew for a fact Anthony sired this infant, there can be no marriage between you and him. Nay, never.” He walked to the window and looked out. “The Montieth family in London is important to South Africa, to forming a new state. Maybe Cecil Rhodes will call it Rhodesia.”

Katie did not know what he meant, nor did she care at the moment. “South Africa? It is my
child
I care about.”

Julien turned and looked at the tiny bundle in the pink cover. Then his square jaw set, the muscles twitching. “It's not a matter of kith 'n kin that's on my mind right now. It's that his Lordship Montieth and his daughter, Lady Camilla, will arrive from London, perhaps very soon. Anthony
must
marry Camilla. I cannot chance having this errant child waiting in the wings.”

Katie looked up, brushing the tear streaks from her cheeks. Who were Lord Montieth and Lady Camilla? And what had they to do with her heartache?

Julien's face was wiped smooth of any emotion, and his brittle expression refused her any sympathy.

“Anthony will become engaged to Lady Camilla when she arrives here at Cape House. You are going to Europe for a year, and the baby will be adopted out to a loving family. I shall make sure of that much for you.”

Katie's shoulders straightened, then sagged.

“In a fortnight”—Sir Julien's level voice brooked no resistance—“Anthony will place a diamond ring on Lady Camilla's finger.”

This pronouncement had the effect of thunder clapping violently over the roof of Cape House. Katie's dry lips parted. She could merely stare at her guardian.

He frowned. “The marriage has been planned since Lady Camilla was twelve and Anthony thirteen. They knew one another while he took his schooling in London. Many a holiday he has spent at Montieth Hall. That he told you none of this does not surprise me.” He paced. “But you should have known, Katie, that marriages must be arranged for the betterment of all—yours as well.”

Unable to hold back her surging rage, she screamed, “
No!
No! Anthony loves
me!
I will not listen to these lies!”

The startled baby wailed, and Katie embraced her, tears rushing to her eyes. “Hush, hush, sweeting, you'll have your papa, you'll see.”

“Stop that, Katie! I must do what is best for everyone concerned.”
At her mutinous stare, Sir Julien continued gravely. “With your future at stake we cannot allow a child born out of wedlock to cast shadows on all our paths. You must give the child up. A journey to Europe will give you the maturity to see what is best. At the appropriate time, your marriage will be arranged. Your inheritance in diamonds will insure that some decent son of a government official will look the other way when gossip of a child makes its way into English social circles.”

Katie wept into the baby's soft, pink cover. Her stomach ached and her pulse throbbed in her temples. She inhaled Evy's sweet fragrance.
I'll never give you up.

Sir Julien turned away, shoulders oddly stooped, and walked toward the door and opened it. “I'm sorry, Katie girl, this pains me too. But I have no choice.”

As the door opened, Katie saw Inga waiting in the hall. The sturdy Dutch woman held her hands hidden beneath her apron. Her faded gold-gray hair was braided and, as it had been since Katie was a child, coiled around her head like a wreath. Her once-round face and apple cheeks were now sagging and soft, and her small mouth drooped sadly.

“Inga, come in here. Do what you can to comfort Katie.”

The old nanny entered the bedroom, bobbed a clearly uncertain curtsy in Sir Julien's direction, and then hurried toward Katie to take the baby from her arms. “There, there, Miss Katie, do not cry so, or you'll be upsetting the baby's milk. Shall I be seeing to her needs now, miss?”

The nurse's low voice—the same voice that had soothed so many of Katie's childhood fears—now filled her with fear. She held onto her baby tightly. What if Inga took Evy away? What if, once Katie relinquished her tiny daughter, Evy would be whisked away to some ship sailing for England or Scotland?

No, she would not let her go.

“I won't give up my baby!” She met Sir Julien's stony gaze. “Do you hear me? I won't! I won't! And no one can make me!”

An austere Sir Julien Bley left the room.

Katie jumped to her feet, still clutching Evy. “I want to see Anthony! Where is he? I want to talk to him! How dare he lie about Evy?”

Inga moved to lay a calming hand on Katie's arm. “Master Anthony is not here, miss. He left last night with them diamond buyers from London and he didn't return. Some say he's on his way to Angola. Something about emeralds.”

The last of her hope ebbing away, Katie looked down at her baby girl. “Oh, my precious little one. What shall I do? Whatever shall I do?”

Katie's once-lovely cheeks were hollow and thin. Dark smudges beneath her eyes made them seem a lighter amber. She had made her decision the day after Evy was stolen from her bassinet and taken away from Cape House.
I loathe Sir Julien. And Anthony
 …

She had thought she loved Anthony. Now she felt nothing but revulsion and shame. How could she have allowed herself to make such a mistake with her virtue? She had played the fool, and now what would happen to her baby?

“How dare he steal my daughter and lock me in my rooms?” She mumbled the question aloud. “Am I a prisoner? Yes! That is what I am!” For all her initial banging on her locked door, after two weeks she was still confined to her several rooms in Cape House. She ate little and hardly slept. She would have tried to escape when Inga came to care for her needs, but Sir Julien remained in the house as though he knew her thoughts. Inga worried about her, fussed and wiped sympathetic tears from her sagging cheeks, made her hot milk with honey, tried to cajole her into drinking it, but Katie did not respond.

Sir Julien, too, came to see her, frowning, worried creases around his grave eyes … but still he refused to relent.

“It is too late, Katie girl. She is safe with a loving couple. They are devotees of Christ and will treat your daughter as well as you yourself could have. Stop your grieving, and get on with a bright future.”

An impotent rage swept her, making her fingers curl into a fist at
her sides. “How
dare
you say that to me? What do you know about how a mother's heart aches for her infant? What right had you to steal this little soul from me? She was mine, I tell you,
mine!
” She burst into tears and threw herself in the big overstuffed chair, pressing her head against her arm.

“You leave for Europe in a week.” Sir Julien's stiff words drifted through her sorrow. “Once aboard ship you will come to your senses. This was not the only child you will have. You will have others—and a husband and name to go with them.”

He left her then, and as the door closed Katie heard the bolt slide into place with solid finality.

She ran to the door and pounded until her hands were sore. “Anthony, I loathe the very memory of your kisses, your wicked lies, the velvety grass that was our bed!”

As the days passed Katie soothed her torn heart with midnight plans and schemes of her own making. “I will escape,” she argued to the four walls. “They won't stop me. I won't let them.”

She had decided this morning—today was to be the day. She
would
gain her freedom. One way or another. She turned quickly as she heard the outer bolt on her door slide back. That would be Inga bringing afternoon tea.

The elderly Dutch woman entered cautiously, as though she did not know if a woman gone mad might attack her. She supported the tea tray on her hip as she closed the door. Katie noticed two flushed spots on the woman's cheeks. Her small eyes were as bright as polished coins. Sudden hope sparked in Katie's breast and she took steps toward her old nanny.

“What is it?”

Inga glanced back at the door as if it might suddenly develop ears.

“I shouldn't tell you this, miss, but if you knew the sweet baby was safe you'd rest much easier now, wouldn't you?” Her eyes searched Katie's as though looking to reinforce her decision. “Sure now, you would indeed.”

Katie latched hold of the woman's arm. “Oh yes, Inga, I would,” she whispered. “What do you know?”

Inga's eyes glittered and darted toward the closed door. Katie's old nurse did not like Sir Julien. He was involved in British policy to bring all of South Africa under the Union Jack. Inga had lost her husband years ago in the first skirmishes between the Dutch Afrikaners—the “people of Africa”—and the British. Since then, the Dutch-settled area of South Africa, the Transvaal, had been annexed to the growing realm of the British Empire.

But that did not put an end to the Dutch resistance to British rule.

Inga's low whisper pulled Katie back to the matters at hand. “Do you remember the missionaries who came here to see Sir Julien a year ago?”

“Vaguely.” Katie frowned. “What about them?”

“Dr. Clyde Varley, his name is. An' the missus is a young mite. Junia Varley is her name. Junia's sister is married to the vicar of Grimston Way in England. Dr. Varley and Missus Junia have your little one at the mission station near Isandlwana.”

Katie stood still, her fingers tightening. “Who told you this?”

“The Zulu woman. The one the missionaries turned into a Christian.”

“Jendaya?” A hopeful excitement began to stir. Katie had seen Jendaya many times around the grounds of Cape House. The girl had been driven out of the Zulu
kraal
of beehive huts near Isandlwana, and she lived in danger of being put to death for her decision to be baptized in the Buffalo River near the mission.

Jendaya now spent her time between the Isandlwana mission and the African huts on Sir Julien's estate. Katie had seen the young woman in the stables with Dumaka and had at first mistaken them for lovers, but Jendaya had explained that he was her brother. Though Dumaka was not a Christian, he too had been driven from Zululand for not publicly disowning his sister. Jendaya was still trying to get Dumaka to visit the mission station and talk to the “wise daktari” about the God of gods, but Dumaka resisted. He was angry with his sister for causing him shame—and he was resentful of the “white skins” for interfering with his people. Though he lived and worked at Cape House, his gaze was
not warm toward Sir Julien Bley or anyone in Capetown, be they British or Boer—especially the Boer, who were the Dutch.

Katie forced herself to release Inga's arm. “Send for Jendaya! Have her come below my window. I must talk to her.”

Inga shook her braided head. “She is gone again, miss. She only came to the back kitchen door asking for me to say your little one was safe with the daktari's wife.”

The sound of carriage wheels distracted Katie. She hurried to the window, drew the portieres aside, and looked down into the courtyard. The coach was a hired taxi, and a tall man in black hat and cape was paying the driver. The driver rushed to unload the gentleman's baggage, and the house butler was walking to meet the arriving stranger. Katie was startled when the man looked up toward the Great House.

“What's he doing here?” She turned to Inga. “Sir Julien all but tossed him out a year ago.”

Inga joined her at the window. Her mouth pursed. Her glance at Katie seemed hesitant, cautious. “Why, that is Sir Julien's stepbrother, Henry Chantry. He had his eyes on you last time he was here.”

How well Katie remembered. Henry was well known for his roving eyes, and she doubted he had changed since she had seen him last before he'd sailed home to Grimston Way, England.

“He's surely come back for diamonds.” Katie watched him follow the butler up the walkway to the front veranda. From the looks of his luggage he expected to stay a time. What would Julien say?

Sir Julien and his aunt, Lady Brewster, the Capetown matriarch of the extended family, had long favored Henry, wild as he was. She had even arranged for Henry's blood brother, Lyle Chantry, to marry her niece, the lovely diamond heiress Honoria. But Lady Brewster was a strait-laced woman and so had no sympathy for Henry's lascivious lifestyle. She had stood firmly beside Sir Julien's decision to withhold an inheritance until Henry proved himself worthy of managing such a fortune.

So why had Henry Chantry sailed back here all the way from England after being rejected by the Bleys and Brewsters?

Katie turned her head and looked at Inga. “I wonder if Lady Brewster or Sir Julien expected him.”

“Don't think so, Miss Katie. Leastwise there's been no hint of it in the doings about Cape House. And no word of getting his old room ready.”

Katie wondered if Henry had known Lady Brewster was vacationing at her Dutch-gabled house at Pietermaritzburg some miles away in Natal, and that Sir Julien was planning a trek out to the Kimberly mines soon.