Daughter of Dark River Farm (39 page)

BOOK: Daughter of Dark River Farm
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He laughed, ‘A
whattle
?’

‘Dibble. It’s for making holes in the ground, for seeds and bulbs and things.’

He looked at the narrow spike, with its handle that looked like a small spade handle. ‘Bloody funny name for a useful little thing,’ he observed. ‘So tell me then, why did the dibble make you so angry with Belinda?’

I told him how I’d found Amy playing with it, and then the subject of the broken wine bottle slipped out before I realised. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, I pressed on, ‘She could have hurt herself badly. Belinda was just so keen to throw herself at Nathan, she didn’t think.’

‘Wine bottle, eh?’

I felt the flush stealing up my neck until my face burned. There was no way to say it that would sound acceptable, so I just blurted it out. ‘Bel and I were drinking it when we were out picking up Jessie. Bel threw it in the back when it was empty, and we forgot it was there.’

‘You
are
a minx, young Kittlington,’ he said, and the smile in his voice made me feel better.

‘If I hadn’t drunk it, I never would have ridden the horse,’ I pointed out. Then I remembered he didn’t know about that either. But it was too late.

‘Pirate?’

‘No, Woody. Well, we named him that because we found him at the sawmill.’

‘Found him? I don’t know that I like the sound of that. Besides, I didn’t know there was another horse there.’

‘There isn’t, now. Woody was a…an Army Remount Service loan. He was just there, and, Archie, he was so beautiful! And Bel can be very persuasive—’

His laughter was so spontaneous, and a relief to hear, that I couldn’t help joining him, and even Amy looked up from plucking stray bits of hay out of the bale, and her giggle wove among ours as if it had never belonged anywhere else.

‘Wait a moment,’ Archie said, putting down the dibble and leaning back against the table. He folded his arms across his chest, and laughter still bubbled in his voice. ‘Let me just see if I’ve got this story straight: you and Belinda were sent on a serious errand, to collect a lone female traveller very dear to your employer, and the two of you left her to her own devices, because you got drunk on illicit wine and stole a ride on an army stud horse?’

‘Well, I did,’ I said, admitting it sounded even more awful when he said it. ‘Bel didn’t get around to riding him. Seth Pearce yelled at us, and Woody shied and threw her. After he more or less broke her nose, that is.’

‘But you were both drunk?’

I blushed again. ‘No. Just me.’

He chuckled, and held out his hand. I took it and he drew me against him, and I could still feel the mirth rumbling in his chest. ‘Kitty Maitland, if I didnae love you so madly already, I’d have fallen for you now.’

I dropped the brush and trowel I was holding so I could put my arms around him. ‘I love you too,’ I said, and the words reminded me of two nights ago, when I’d first uttered them, crying them to the night as Archie had chased away the terror. He seemed to remember that too, and grew very still, his humour not dying, but settling into a sigh that shook a little bit.

‘Will we have a chance to…be together again, before I go?’

I tightened my hold. ‘Yes. Tonight. Please?’

He pushed me gently away from him and held my shoulders, looking squarely into my eyes. ‘We will be wed, won’t we? Soon.’

‘Yes. As soon as we can.’

He nodded. ‘Right.’ He moved off across the barn, in search of something but I didn’t know what, and after a moment of watching him not find it, I turned back to my task. I listened to him muttering under his breath, then ripping something, and I peered through the growing gloom to see him pulling at one of the sacks in the corner. Curious, but patient, I picked up the dibble, grinning at the way he’d found it such a funny name—and him a country-born Scotsman! By the time I’d got halfway through scraping the dried mud off it, Archie had returned to my side, brandishing a strip of sacking. Without explanation, he lifted my right hand and gripped my wrist. My fingers automatically wrapped around his forearm until we looked like two battle chiefs in some ancient greeting.

Archie kept his eyes on mine, but called out, ‘Amy, sweetheart. Come here a moment?’ Of course she immediately did so, and Archie smiled down at her. ‘Now, your job is just to remember this,’ he said. ‘Do you understand? Just remember it.’ He wrapped the sacking strip around our two wrists, and by then I knew what he was doing, and why he’d questioned my agreement to marry him. Just to be sure. I looked up at him and blinked back sudden tears, but seeing his own eyes equally bright, I didn’t know how I didn’t break down, floored by the emotion that thundered through me.

His voice was hoarse. ‘I, Archie Buchanan declare my deep and abiding love for you, Katherine Maitland, and so do legally take you to wife. ’Til death us do part. And thereto I plight thee my troth.’

Somehow I stumbled through a similar vow, and all the while I was aware of Archie’s pulse thumping against mine as the tightly wrapped sacking pressed our wrists together. When my voice had died away the tears were pouring freely down my cheeks, and Archie’s left thumb gently brushed them away before he bent his head and kissed each eye.

‘Now,’ he said softly, ‘we’re handfasted.’

I couldn’t speak for a moment, then managed, ‘
Is
that legal?’

‘It is in Scotland, and that’s good enough for me. You’re mine, young Kittlington, and I’m yours. Heart, body and soul. And if
I
ever catch you drunk and riding a valuable stud horse, I’ll tan your bloody hide.’

I locked up the barn half an hour later, the tools laid out neatly, and gleaming, and the knowledge of my new status, legal or otherwise, making my blood sing. Archie had taken Amy up to see the rabbits a few minutes earlier, when we’d noticed the sun starting to dip. Soon he would bring her back from their little walk, I would put her to bed, and then Archie and I would…well, we would begin our honeymoon. My insides were tight with anticipation as I went into the house and replaced the padlock key in the little dish on the sideboard.

Outside the sky was turning a beautiful gold colour, and my thoughts went to Jessie, and where she might be now. On impulse I went to the jar where Frances kept our wages, and groaned; yes, she had taken it. Frances would be glad she would have enough money to find a room for the night, but where did that leave the rest of us? I pushed aside the thought of Amy’s money with a little shiver, but I couldn’t deny that’s where my mind took me… I must be a truly awful person to even consider it, and it would probably be a good thing for everyone when I went back to Belgium. In the meantime, my first trip in the morning would be to the bank, for the removal of temptation.

The door to Nathan’s room, the little room at the back of the house, was shut when I went upstairs; he must be in there painting again. Perhaps his fame would grow, locally at least, and he might make enough money to pay his creditors. I hoped so. I was still worried about them finding where he lived and coming after him.

But all those dark thoughts faded as I went to my own room, and my mind turned to better things. I pressed the fingers of my left hand against my right wrist, remembering vividly how Archie’s heartbeat had echoed there. Levering open my own bedroom door with my elbow, not wanting to let go of my wrist, I was surprised to see Belinda in there, her eyes red, her face pale.

‘He’s gone,’ she said, her breath hitching.

‘Gone? Nathan you mean?’

‘Y-yes. I went into his room and his things are gone. No sign.’

I sighed. ‘Bel, you know he had his problems. It’s probably a good thing he’s gone. I’m sorry. I know you were attached to him, but—’

‘That’s not it!’ She began to cry again. ‘It’s much, much worse. Oh, Kitty, I’ve done something terrible!’

Chapter Twenty

I sat in silent dismay, while Belinda told her story.

It had begun that afternoon, when she’d gone to find him and tell him they must both help Archie in the fields, in Frances’s stead. He’d been gratifyingly keen, and they’d walked out there together, and Belinda had kept sneaking glances at him; he’d looked so handsome, so smart. And when he spoke he sounded so well travelled. She asked him if he was looking forward to the Harvest Festival dance, and he had expressed mild interest, but hadn’t said anything about her reserving a dance for him, as she’d hoped. She felt small and a little stupid beside him, and couldn’t think of anything clever to say, until she remembered the diamond, now back in Evie’s possession.

‘Have you heard of it?’ she asked.

‘No, is it valuable?’

‘Kitty says so. But Evie says it’s got to go back to Borneo, where it came from.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the family line has come to an end. You know, since her little brother was killed. He was the last named Creswell.’

‘God rest him,’ Nathan said grimly. Conversation had moved on to the war then, and Nathan had not shown any further interest in Evie’s wealth. He was more concerned for her husband. Belinda hadn’t been able to tell him much more than he already knew, so he’d been glad of Archie’s companionship as they worked, and for the chance to learn more about what had happened to his old friend.

Disappointed, and feeling foolish, Belinda hadn’t thought about the diamond again either, until earlier that evening. Nathan had found her in the creamery, checking the cheeses, and he’d leaned against the door to watch her, his hazel eyes soft and smiling. ‘You look very pretty doing that. Like a painting by Vermeer.’

Belinda had nearly blurted that he looked wonderful too, doing absolutely nothing, but the way he’d dismissed her eager talk earlier in the day still rankled somewhat, and she chose to just smile. Besides, she didn’t know if this Vermeer person painted pretty people or not. Nathan might be teasing her, using her lack of knowledge for some private joke at her expense.

‘I’ve been thinking about what you said,’ he went on. ‘About the diamond, and it having to go back to Borneo.’

She perked up, pleased she had piqued his interest after all. ‘Yes, it’s a terrible shame. Poor Evie.’

‘Well, how about if I was able to paint it? As a gift for her and Will, I mean? It’d be one way to start to make amends for what I did to him.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘Who knows, one day after I’m long gone it might be worth something.’

Belinda wiped her hands on the cloth hanging from her belt. ‘That’s a wonderful idea!’

‘It’s to be a surprise, so would have to be tonight, while they’re out,’ he said. ‘Do you know where she keeps it?’

‘No,’ Belinda said, ‘but I’m sure we could find it.’

‘Best if you look for it. If anyone’s caught in her room it’d be better you than me. I’ll go and set up everything while it’s still light enough to sketch by the natural light.’ He glanced behind him, through the kitchen towards the open back door. ‘There should be enough time if you hurry. Bring it to my room. And remember—’ he lifted a finger to his lips, and she saw his beautiful smile behind it ‘—not a word, lovely Bel.’

‘I found it easily enough,’ she said to me now. ‘It was as if Evie didn’t care about it at all, and just dropped it into a box on her dressing table. So I took it, but I made sure I knew exactly how it had landed, so I could return it before she got back.’

I felt ill, knowing what was coming. ‘Bel—’

‘He let me watch him sketch it, and it was just wonderful. He did a perfect circle without even drawing around anything! Then he added just the right types of shadow.’ For a second she was lost in bright, appreciative memory, then her face fell again. ‘But he said I couldn’t stay while he painted it; he needed to be alone. I offered to put it back, since he’d finished the sketch, but he said he needed it a little while longer, to mix the colour.’

‘You didn’t—’

‘I believed him!’ she cried. ‘And all because he drew it so beautifully! Oh, Kitty, how could I have been so stupid?’

I stood up and went to the window. ‘How long ago did you see him?’

‘About half an hour. I went back to his room a few minutes ago, and…’ She dropped her face into her hands again and couldn’t finish.

‘Stay here,’ I told her. ‘If he’s out there and knows you’ve told someone, who knows what he might do?’ I didn’t want to frighten her, but she had to understand the danger.

‘I’ll stay,’ she promised. She looked up at me with new hope, as if she really believed I might be able to do something, and I went out and slammed the door behind me, feeling worse than useless. The worst thing was she wasn’t to blame; I, in my sleepy happiness, had told her about the diamond, how valuable it was, and how Evie would soon lose it… Yes, Belinda had let Nathan turn her head, and she’d tried too hard to impress him, but it was my treacherous mouth that had, once again, done the damage.

If only Archie was back from his walk. I would have given anything to be able to turn to him and lay this catastrophe in his lap, knowing he’d at least say something soothing, even if we’d lost the Kalteng Star for ever. But he was nowhere in sight as I went out into the yard. Pippin still stood looking over the field gate, and Pirate watched me through the shadows, from the stable. There was no sign of Nathan either. I looked around, at the cart that stood in the corner of the yard by the gate, even at the water trough that could easily conceal a man desperate enough not to be found, but there was no sound that gave him away. He’d gone. Probably over the fields to the woods, if he had any sense and, I reluctantly admitted, he’d already proven himself resourceful in avoiding those he wished to avoid. His scarred lungs might prevent him from running fast, but he’d be able to hide well enough once he reached the woods. We had to stop him getting that far.

Archie would be faster on his feet than me, and stronger. I had to find him, and tell him. I started towards the path, thinking quickly: I’d give him the bare bones, and then take care of Amy while he went after Nathan. A movement caught the corner of my eye—the barn door swinging slightly in the breeze. They were already back, thank goodness!

‘Archie!’ I yanked the door open and went in, blinking to let my eyes adjust to the fading light. Nathan was at the worktable, a bag over his shoulder, holding it open with one hand and picking up a newly cleaned trowel with the other. He’d frozen at the sound of my shout, but now dropped the trowel into the bag.

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