Mr Cavell's Diamond (2 page)

Jemima

One day
when I had been working in the seaside house for a week, the front doorbell rang and I answered the door to a brightly dressed lady, her bright yellow hair all wayward from the wind. She was Mr Simpson’s daughter, and she had brought him food. She seemed very haughty to me with her long nose upturned and I scurried away quickly to find her father. When I came back she was in the front room with the Master and they were chatting like old friends. Since then Miss Simpson has come back often and even been walking on the beach with the Master. I asked Mrs Smith maybe the Master will make Miss Simpson his bride, but she just laughed at me.

‘
That trollop,’ she said. ‘That girl is no better than she ought to be. The Master be naun-but playing with her and will drop her soon as he takes his place in proper town society.’ The Master is rich, Mrs Smith told me. He has lots of money tied up in Houses and Stocks and Shares. I know not what stocks and shares may be, but I understand Houses. He has houses in London and Brighton, Mrs Smith says, but he has chosen to live here in Worthing. I am happy he is here, because that has given me a job I like in a house I like, with Mrs Smith who is kind.

The Master has
no family. But Mrs Smith thinks he may settle down here in Worthing, and perhaps invite friends to visit, and then we may put on a dinner party, and bring the best wine from the cellar, and wear our best starched caps and aprons to serve the guests. What fun that would be! I have never seen a dinner party and would like to see elegant ladies in the latest fashions.

‘
Would the Master invite Miss Simpson to such a dinner party?’ I asked Mrs Smith.

She snorted.
‘No, dear, no. At least I do hope not, for she would be laughed at by the fine people. Did you not see what she was wearing the last time she came? Dressed up like a dog’s dinner she was. Don’t know who she thinks she is, but if she turns her nose up at my scones again I’ll be filling the next batch with rat poison.’

I put my hand over my mouth in horror at the thought our kind Master might pick a poisoned scone but Mrs Smith said she was only joking and I wasn’t to worry none and she wouldn’t really do such a thing.

I don’t like Miss Simpson neither but I wouldn’t want to wish her any harm.

Caroline

‘Ma, I’m off out,’ said Caroline, as she tied her bonnet and arranged her best shawl about her shoulders.

‘
Where to?’ asked her mother. ‘Don’t forget I need you to finish the laundry off this afternoon, and help me with the dinner. Frances needs her frocks altered too, she’s growing so fast.’

‘
Yes, Ma, yes, Ma. I’ll do the chores later. I promised Pa I’d fetch him a fresh pie for his lunch today.’ Caroline reached up to the kitchen mantelpiece and put her hand in the jar in which the household’s coins were kept. She counted out a few pennies. If she didn’t hurry along, there’d be no time to shop and still make it to Marine Parade before lunch time.

‘
Your father has a perfectly adequate lunch already, I packed it myself,’ said Ann Simpson. ‘You’re off hoping for a glimpse of that Mr Cavell again, aren’t you?’

Caroline backed away from her mother’s stabbing finger.
‘He likes me, Ma. And why shouldn’t he?’ She raised her chin a fraction and regarded herself in the looking glass which hung over the fireplace in the kitchen. ‘Aren’t I pretty enough for him?’

Ann snorted.
‘Looks aren’t everything. You’re not his class, my girl. He’s quality. He might play with you a while, but he’d never marry you. And if you’re not careful you’ll be left as damaged goods and you’ll never get a husband then. Even more damaged than you already are.’ She cast a meaningful glance at little Frances who was playing on the hearthrug, took a handful of flour from an earthenware pot and sprinkled it over the scrubbed oak table which stood in the centre of the kitchen.

Caroline brushed specks of flour from her skirts and gave a half-smile.
‘Oh Ma. He’ll marry me if I want him to. Just wait and see.’

‘
You’re too cocky for your own good, my girl. Well, if he does, you can take the bairn with you. That’ll be
two
less mouths for me and your father to feed.’ Ann picked up the dough which had been proving in a bowl, and began kneading it furiously on the table.

Scowling, Caroline left the house. The bairn. Much as she loved
Frances, if she did persuade Henry to marry her, how would she persuade him to take on a child which was not his own? Well, she would face that challenge when she reached it.

She walked down High Street
towards the shops and businesses in the heart of the town. She passed right by the pie shop, and, still clutching the coins in her hand, entered a milliner’s shop further along.

A few minutes later, with new ribbons
attached to her bonnet and a piece of lace tucked in her bodice, she continued her route to Marine Parade. The blue of the ribbons brought out the colour of her eyes. She looked good, and she knew it.

Henry
Cavell was waiting for her, as she knew he would be. He was standing by the bay window of his house, and raised his hand to her as she climbed the steps to the front door. The mousy servant opened the door to her as usual, and showed her in. The drawing room was now fully decorated and furnished. Caroline looked around in approval at the sofas, armchairs and delicate side tables. She allowed her hand to trail over an antimacassar on the back of a chair. She had chosen it just last week, and how well it looked!

She held out her hand to Henry, who took it and
raised it to his lips to kiss. ‘Caroline, you look stunning. New ribbons, I believe?’ He fingered the ribbon, brushing her cheek with his fingertips.

‘
You like them?’ Caroline smiled her sideways smile, and turned her face from side to side to show off both the ribbons and her striking profile.

‘
I do, I do. Now then, it’s a fine day, shall we walk a while? If you have brought something for your father you may leave it with the maid. Your father finished here yesterday, but I believe he is now working nearby.’

‘
He’s not working here any more?’ Caroline was surprised and frustrated. Just as things were going so well with Henry. If her father was no longer here she’d have no excuse to call. She would have to move things along a little quicker than she’d planned.

Henry laughed.
‘Do your family not talk to each other? My house is complete now.’

Caroline took a chance.
‘Your house, sir, is complete, but is your home?’ She dipped her head slightly, and looked demurely up at him.

‘
Not yet,’ said Henry. ‘I think I need someone to wave a womanly wand around the place first. If only I had a sister to perform that duty for me.’ He grinned, and offered his arm to Caroline. She smiled, took his arm and walked with him out of the house.

What did he mean, he needed
a
sister’s
womanly touch? Wasn’t hers enough? Was he not yet as smitten with her as she’d hoped? Her mind worked quickly as they stepped out onto the street, and crossed to the sands. She needed to make sure of him. She’d already put a lot of effort into enticing this man to be interested in her, to forget their difference in rank, and see only a beautiful, alluring woman. How could she push him into wanting to marry her?

‘
Easter is almost upon us,’ she said, as they walked along the sands, enjoying the fresh spring breeze on their faces.

‘
Indeed it is,’ said Henry. ‘Who’d have thought it? And then summer will come, and with it an influx of seasonal visitors. Worthing shall be quite overcome, and you will abandon your poor Henry for more exciting and interesting friends.’

‘
I shall not!’ She squeezed his arm to pull him closer to her. ‘I shall never abandon you. You’ve been so kind to me! I shall always want to call on you, if you will allow it.’

He smiled down at her.
‘Of course, my funny little Caroline! I shall always want to be your friend.’

Funny little Caroline! He was treating her as a child. It was not good enough that he wanted to be her f
riend. Why would he not stop walking, take her face in his hands and kiss her, right here and now on the beach? Or, if he was worried about who was watching (though he didn’t seem to mind people seeing them strolling arm in arm, quite as though she was his social equal), then why did he not kiss her back in the comfort of his drawing room? Oh, he could be quite exasperating at times. And she was never quite sure when he was teasing her, and when he was serious. She needed to regain control of this relationship, and soon.

‘
This will be your first Easter in Sussex, I believe?’ she said. ‘There will be festivities at Cissbury Ring. I used to go, when I was a child.’ She gave a nostalgic sigh, and peeked sideways at Henry. Would he take the bait?

‘
Cissbury? The hill north of town? What kind of festivities?’

‘
Music, and dancing, stalls selling beer and pies, contests, oh, all sorts! How I used to love going when I was young. Such fun, so charming to see all the merry people!’

‘
Sounds most interesting. Will you go this year?’ Henry asked. ‘Or have you grown out of all that nonsense now?’

‘
Oh, no! It’s for all ages. My mother and father took me and my brothers and sisters when we were children. I haven’t been for a few years.’ Caroline paused a moment, then looked shyly sideways at him. ‘I wonder, Henry, would you like to go? Just to see how the ordinary people of Worthing like to have fun? I would come with you, we need not stay long, but oh how I would like to see it all again!’

‘
Well…’

‘
Oh, please say you will!’ Caroline tugged at his arm to pull him to a halt, and twisted him around to face her. ‘Please, Henry?’ She put her head on one side, and gave him her most endearing smile. It usually worked.

‘
All right. We’ll go, if it makes my sweet Caroline happy.’ Henry bent his head, and kissed her gently on her forehead. Not quite the kind of kiss she wanted, but it was a start.

‘
Thank you, oh thank you! We shall have such fun!’

Her plan, so far, was working. Caroline’s heart was light as they continued their walk along the beach. She chattered merrily of all the stalls and entertainments she’d seen at Cissbury Ring on earlier occasions. The only thing she didn’t mention, was the traditional
‘Kiss-in-the-Ring’ dance, which took place long after dark, and usually ended with couples disappearing into the surrounding bushes together…

Chapter 2 – Easter Sunday 1829

Henry

Henry
looked out of his dressing-room window to gauge the weather. It was clear and windless – a fine day to be out. He wondered what the Cissbury Ring festival would be like as he rummaged through his clothes. He didn’t want to look out of place, and his regular tailored suits and coats would make him stand out as a member of the better classes, come to gawp at the commoners having their party. Finally he pulled out a tweed jacket, his least well-fitting breeches and an old cravat. Hoping that this ensemble would do, he sat in a chair beside the window to await Caroline’s arrival.

He’d never been a man to turn down a new experience, he told himself, so he’d agreed to go
to the festivities out of curiosity. And to keep Caroline sweet, a voice at the back of his mind told him. He was attracted to her, he admitted that much to himself. But she was just a plaything. Someone whose company he enjoyed, whose pretty face and lively conversation brightened his day. Not someone he’d want in his life for ever, though. Caroline was the type of woman a man would bore of, after a while. Her looks, her fashions and her flirtations were her only interests. All the while he was the object of her flirting, she was pleasant enough company. But he suspected she’d turn her sights on another man, as soon as she found anyone who could offer her more than he could.

When she arrived she was bedecked in a blue printed cotton gown he hadn’t seen before. She wore a soft grey wool shawl, and a grey and blue bonnet. Delicate lace trimmed the sleeves and neckline of her dress. She’d curled her hair into ringlets which hung down under the bonnet. Overall, Henry thought, she looked as pretty as he’d ever seen her. She’d clearly taken a lot of care over her appearance. Even his shy little servant girl looked impressed as she showed Caroline in.

‘Caroline, my dear, you look stunning today!’ he said, taking her hands. ‘I shall have to go and change my clothes. You put me quite to shame!’

‘
Oh, this old thing,’ said Caroline, blushing at the compliment and twirling her skirts. ‘I purposely didn’t dress up. It can be quite muddy up at the Ring, and I shouldn’t like to dirty my hems.’

‘
I shall pick you up and carry you over any muddy patches we encounter, my lady,’ said Henry, making her a gallant bow.

Caroline giggled, and turned slightly away from him.
‘Perhaps I shall not let you be so bold, sir.’

‘
Then,’ said Henry, ‘I shall have to run after you and catch you, and hoist you over my shoulder like a naughty child, if you should soil your skirts.’ He made a grab for her, and caught her around the waist. She gave in to the catch, and leaned backwards slightly against his hands. He pulled her towards him so that her breasts brushed his chest, and her mouth was just inches from his. He could smell her scent, rose-water mixed with her natural musk. She parted her lips slightly, her eyes wide and fixed on his.

‘
You, madam, are a bad influence on me,’ said Henry, as he let go and pushed her gently away. ‘You’ll be the ruin of me.’

‘
Only if you’ll let me be,’ replied Caroline. She smiled brightly. ‘Shall we go?’

It was a pleasant walk of about four miles to the outskirts of the town, then through the fields to the foot of the hill. Caroline held his arm and chattered girlishly. Henry half-listened to her, but mostly reflected on the nature of this alluring woman, how she could switch from siren to child in a heart-beat, how she could bring him so easily to the brink of losing his self-control. What was he to do with her? She was like a drug. He would like to think he could stop seeing her any time he chose. But every time she drew him back, hooked him, got under his skin and into his head. And all the while the voice of reason at the back of his mind, the voice which was loudest when she wasn’t near, told him to keep his distance, enjoy her as an amusing companion only. Anything more would be dangerous.

The hill itself was surprisingly steep, and Henry found himself sweating as he climbed. Caroline held her skirts in one hand, and allowed herself to be pulled upwards with the other by Henry. He stopped several times to check on her well-being. Her face, flushed with the effort of the climb, looked even more lovely than usual.
Her golden hair shone in the sunshine. They passed other people on the path – a group of girls dressed in cotton frocks and straw bonnets were resting half way up. They giggled and hid their faces as Henry lifted his hat and nodded to them. Further on, a young man and a girl leaned side by side against a stone wall, while the man alternately kissed and mopped his sweetheart’s brow with a red handkerchief. The afternoon had warmed up and the spring sunshine released an intoxicating vanilla scent from the gorse which was in full flower.

At the top of the hill, they crossed the ancient earth works of the Ring, and joined the hundreds of people already there. Caroline gave a little squeal of excitement.

‘Come, Henry! Let’s go and look at the stalls, first. Oh, if they are selling lemonade I should so like a cup, after climbing up that hill!’ She took his hand again and began leading him across to where a group of rough trestle tables had been erected.

Henry looked about in amusement. Inside a rope ring, two bare-chested men were boxing, surrounded by a cheering, jeering crowd. Several barrels of ale were stacked beside one stall, and some of the men who lounged nearby looked as though they’d already partaken of the contents. A round, ruddy-faced woman stood behind a table selling scones spread with jam. Henry bought one each for himself and Caroline, and laughed as she took a large bite, leaving a dollop of jam on the end of her nose. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it gently away.

‘A waste of good jam, that was,’ said Caroline. She smiled. ‘You should have licked it off me.’

Henry raised his eyebrows. The child was gone, the coquette was back.

A man standing at one of the tables nearby called to them. ‘Ladies and Gents, come close, watch close, and see if you can beat the great Magico! Yes, fine lady in blue, and your beau, approach my table. I’ll not bite.’

He placed three cups upside down on the table.
‘Now, fine sir,’ he said to Henry, ‘do you have a penny about you? You’ll have it back directly, if, that is, you can keep your eye on it!’

Henry laughed, and handed over the
penny. He’d seen this trick a thousand times before, but decided to play along.

The trickster placed the coin under one of the cups.
‘The middle one, fine sir. Watch the middle cup if you want your coin back. Watch closely, mind!’

He slid the cups around the table, swapping their positions, over and over, round and round, his hands a blur. Henry watched intently, following one cup as it moved from left to right to centre to right…

‘Well, I’m sure I’ve lost track of it now,’ said Caroline, throwing up her hands in defeat. ‘But you haven’t, have you, my clever boy?’

Henry smiled, as the man brought the cups to a stop.
‘Which one, fine sir, contains your coin? Choose right and I shall double your money! Choose wrongly and you lose it.’

Henry held out his hand towards the left cup. No, the right one. Or the middle one? He rubbed at his chin in mock concentration.
‘Well, you have me flummoxed,’ he said.

‘
Do you give up, sir? Why not pick one anyway? A one in three chance to say where your penny is?’ The man grinned at Henry, displaying blackened teeth.

Henry recoiled slightly from the man’s breath and smiled.
‘Very well, I will make a guess where the coin is.’

‘
That’s the spirit, sir. Come on, then. Put us all out of our suspense!’

‘
Henry, the left cup! I know it, I can feel it, it’s the left one,’ squealed Caroline.

‘
No, my dear, not the left one,’ said Henry. ‘Neither is it the right one. Nor the centre. My coin is on the gentleman’s lap, beneath the table. See that gap in the planks of the table? My penny was directed down through there, as the cups were shuffled. It’s not under any of them now.’

The man scowled, as the gathered crowd cried out,
‘Prove it! Lift the cups!’

Henry knocked them over, one by one. No
coin.

There were mutters of
‘Shame!’ and ‘Cheat!’ from the crowd. Henry held out his hand towards the Great Magico. ‘My penny, if you would.’

The man grumpily returned
it, and packed up his cups. Henry turned away from the table and slipped the coin into the hand of a ragged child.

‘
Henry, how did you know he was cheating you?’ said Caroline, as they walked away from the table.

‘
Easy, my dear,’ he replied. ‘I used to play that same trick on my brother when we were children.’

‘
Your brother? I did not know you had a brother. I should so like to meet him.’

‘
Sadly, he was lost at Waterloo.’

‘
Oh, I am so sorry. You must miss him very much.’ She hooked her arm through his and gave it a squeeze, smiling sympathetically up at him. He enjoyed feeling her so close, and once again felt a pang of desire for her.

They wandered about amongst the stalls and entertainments for a while, tasting jellied eels and pickled herrings and drinking a pint each of ale. Henry bought her a present of a lace handkerchief from a pedlar, which Caroline tucked into her bosom.

As the sun dipped near the horizon, a band of drums, pipes and an accordion began to play. People gathered around
and began to dance. Caroline pulled Henry towards the crowd, but he held back. He’d never been much of a dancer, and didn’t know the steps of these Sussex jigs and reels. She moved gently beside him, in time to the music, and he enjoyed the way her breasts occasionally brushed against his arm, or her hip knocked against his.

After a while the music changed. The band began playing a slower tempo piece. The sun had just set, and the high clouds were streaked with red and orange. Dancers began drifting away from the
band and towards the paths which led down from the Ring and back towards their homes. Those who remained paired off into couples, and moved slowly to the music, holding each other tightly.

Henry turned to Caroline.
‘We should set off for home now, before it’s too dark to find our way safely down the hill.’

She tilted her face towards him, glowing rose in the last of the sunset.
‘But, Henry, we must dance. They’re playing the music for Kiss-in-the-Ring. Come.’ She pulled him close, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She moved slowly and sensuously against him as the music enveloped them. He placed his hands carefully on her waist, the feel of her slim, firm figure sending shivers of excitement through him. He bent his head to hers. He could smell her scent, his lips were inches from hers, coming closer, closer, her hips pushing into his, his hands wrapped more tightly around her now, pulling her into him. Her lips were parted ready for his kiss. He closed in to claim it, but she loosened her grip and stepped away.

‘
Come with me,’ she said, taking his hand and drawing him away from the band and remaining dancers. She led him along a path which led down the south side of the hill. The rising moon was full, lighting the countryside with a shimmering silvery light. They approached a thicket where suddenly she ducked down under a bush, drawing Henry after her. Inside was a small clearing, hidden from the path. Neatly folded beneath a bush was an old blanket. Henry watched astonished as Caroline shook it out and spread it on the ground. Taking his hands, she pulled him down to his knees on the blanket, and kissed him.

Her lips were soft, and slightly salty. She tasted exquisite. Gently he lay her down on the rug, and leaned over her.

‘Caroline, I…’

She took his face in her hands, and drew him down onto her for another kiss, this one deeper and more insistent. Henry responded with urgency, and slid his hand onto her breast. Her moan and arched back told him it was welcome. She fumbled with his trouser fastenings, and he sat up in surprise.

She took his hand and gazed up at him. ‘Please, Henry. I want this.’

So did he. Oh, how he wanted her! He groaned, and pulled up her skirts. A moment later, for better or for worse, he was inside her, melting in her warmth, aware of nothing but
her
and the moment they were in.

It was over too soon, and Henry rolled off her, panting. Already he was regretting his actions; all the more so when he turned to look at his lover and saw her expression of undiluted triumph.