Today's Embrace (40 page)

“I hope you didn't leave that gun lying there unattended when you were in the tavern,” Rogan told her in unabashed correction. “Anyone could have walked by and snatched it.”

The breeze ruffled her shiny black hair in contrast with the Victorian white blouse with its lace collar. She wore the blouse stuffed into a pair of pants. He had yet to see the woman wearing a skirt.

“I don't need a man to tell me that,” she snapped. “I had it locked in the case in back. You took so long in there I'd almost given up on you. I took it out to keep me company on the way home. There's a lonely stretch of land between here and Government House.”

Rogan offered a light bow. “Good to see you've got some sense, Cousin. My apology. Sorry I kept you waiting.”

He swung up and settled himself. She flipped the reins and they were off.

“I suppose you're one of those overbearing males who won't allow their wives to breathe without your approval.”

Remembering how Evy had taken advantage of him, he found Darinda's charge amusing. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he repressed a chuckle.

Darinda gave him a nasty glance and flicked the reins more urgently.

“Tell me,” he said, “if you ever really got angry at a man, would you be heartless enough to whack him when his back was turned?”

She wrenched and jerked the reins, and the horse leaped forward. Rogan grabbed the reins and calmed the excited horse.

“How dare you!” she cried, her cheeks crimson, her eyes flashing. “Accuse
me
of killing Anthony!”

“Then you did not?”

“You beast!” She picked up her horsewhip and started using it on him. Dropping the reins, he caught the whip near the center of the cord so she was unable to swing it again. When she stopped trying, he tossed it in back.

“Then you didn't,” he said, satisfied. “I'll take your word for it. What's this about you having met him on the trail and argued with him shortly before he was killed?”

He drove the horse now, and she was breathing hard, looking at him with shock and rage.

“Did Ryan tell you? Why, that traitor. And after he told me to say nothing.”

He drove past flat-topped thorn trees. “Ryan? Ah, I see. So it's ‘Ryan' now, not Captain Retford, is it? You've got something going with him.”

“That is none of your business.”

“I'm making it my business. I'm worried about my brother. I think you've run Parnell into the ground long enough. If you've no intention of marriage, then I think it's past time to be fair with him and let him know. If you don't, I will. Is it Parnell or Ryan?”

She glared at him. “It's neither man, if you want to know. I happen to prefer my freedom from men like you.”

“Do you mind if I tell Parnell you're being used by Julien to keep him strung up by his thumbs?”

“You may tell Parnell anything you wish. If he hasn't figured out by
now that I'm not in love with him, then he's too thickheaded to believe you, either.”

“True. He has that tendency,” he said dryly. “I told him back on the Limpopo River, but he wouldn't believe it.”

“He's not as shrewd as you,” she retorted.

He laughed. “I think you have one up on both us poor Chantry men,” he goaded. “So now you're baiting poor Captain Retford, are you?”

She folded her arms and stared ahead.

“He's a good man, Darinda. Better than Parnell. I don't like admitting that about my brother, but it's true. Parnell is to blame for the debacle he's in. When he first came to Capetown with the idea to marry Darinda Bley, he had diamonds and power on his mind. Who you were, or what you would become never entered his heart. He's gotten burned. Now in a state of depression, he's surrendered to liquor.”

She was quiet and seemed to lose some of her anger. “I didn't want to hurt him deliberately. The romantic game with Parnell was instigated by Grandfather. But I'll admit that I went along with it for my own purposes.”

“Are those purposes still the burning ambition of your life, or has Retford pulled you in another direction?”

She sighed. “I haven't decided.”

He wondered. Somehow he thought she meant something more than merely trying to decide if she was falling for him or not. “I see.”

She looked at him coldly and lapsed into silence.

“So Retford told you not to mention that you'd argued with Anthony on the trail. Did he say why?”

“It wasn't to protect me because I've done something despicable. I wouldn't kill Anthony Brewster, but I did threaten him. It was foolish, I know. I didn't actually mean it. Ryan was afraid Harry would use the incident to his favor in some way.” She looked at him. “I was the one who told Ryan about the meeting with Anthony. No one would ever have known about it if I hadn't admitted it.”

“I never suspected you of murder, Darinda. But you're wrong about no one knowing that you'd met and threatened him on the trail.”

Her eyes were wary.

“Arcilla overheard. Strange how things happen. Just when one thinks they've gotten by with deceit or some other wrong, providence appears to have a final say.”

She looked uncomfortable. “Yes … Dr. Jakob said something of that nature. ‘Be sure your sin will find you out.' That's stayed in my mind. How did Arcilla overhear?”

“She must have been on her way to Anthony's bungalow when she approached both of you while you were having a heated argument. Knowing my sister, she would have been cautious about getting involved. She stepped aside on the trail until Anthony walked on.”

“He was going to meet someone and was in a hurry, I remember that.”

“But you've no idea who it was he went to meet?”

“No.”

“It was well that you owned up to Retford when you did. It wouldn't look good for you right now had you kept silent only to have Arcilla inform me when I arrived. I'd have wondered if an attractive young heiress might find it in her interest to get rid of a contender.”

“If I had wanted to, I'd have used something more feminine,” she said maliciously. “Like poison.”

She withdrew into silence, but he could see the news had given her plenty to think about.

So Retford didn't trust Harry either. Rogan decided Retford had been prudent when he'd told Darinda to keep her argument with Anthony to herself.

Julien was waiting in his office when Darinda brought Rogan in to see him.

“Thank you, Darinda. Rogan and I will talk privately.”

“And if you hear any shots,” Rogan commented dryly, “don't call Whipple, call Retford.”

“Still the amusing scoundrel,” Julien commented. “Sit down, Rogan, sit down, we need to talk. Close the door behind you, Darinda.”

Rogan remained standing.

“Smoke?” Julien pushed the ornate cigar box across the desk.

Rogan chose a cheroot and struck a match while Julien poured himself a brandy from the crystal decanter, his back toward him.

“How is Evy taking Anthony's death?”

Rogan's eyes fell upon a gold object sitting on Julien's desk. He stared too long; the match burned his thumb.
The bird on Henry's map
. He wanted to reach for it, then caught himself just in time.
Caution. Show nothing. Nothing
.

“You should not have married her. You got my letter of reprimand, I suppose? Quite a shock to me to have learned of your action after the fact.”

Rogan turned a shoulder to the bird to concentrate fully on what Julien was saying.

“I might have invited you to enjoy the wedding,” he said flippantly, “but there wasn't enough time to accommodate your voyage.”

Julien turned his head and measured him with a thoughtful glance. “Pure rebellion on your part, going against family wishes in this matter, but not surprising.”

“When I discovered you'd lied to me that night on the Limpopo about Evy's lineage, I knew any plans for my future must be made apart from your interests. Henry's daughter by Katie van Buren, was she? All along you knew Evy was Anthony's daughter.”

“I had hoped to keep you from marrying her. I failed. There's nothing left now but to let the past, with its poor judgments, rush by on the river of life.”

“Touching, even a trace of the poetic. You won't mind if I remain cautious?”

“Dr. Jakob informs me you're to be a father. What is there left to us now but acceptance? As I say, I wish to move on, to forget the past, let it lie waste, and build something new—between you and me. I've asked you here to make a bargain.”

“Whenever you wish to make a bargain with me, I always get tremors, Uncle Julien. You won't mind if I back off a little to consider?”

Julien's lower lip pulled into a smile. “The cobra pit, eh? No, no, nothing like that.
Gold
, the secret to Henry's map unmasked, and for me, the
Kimberly Black Diamond.
”

Easy
, Rogan told himself. He studied Julien, wondering what shrewd scheme he was working on now, hoping to rope him into it. The
secret
of the map? Could he have found out the meaning of the symbols? The gold bird on the desk could imply that, but how? No one else had even known of the symbols, except Derwent and Mornay.

He was strongly tempted to glance toward the gold bird but looked instead at the cheroot, turning his side to the desk. “Gold and diamonds,” he commented airily, “what grander topic for greedy mortals?”

Julien chuckled with brazen amusement. “The world, Rogan, is made up of greedy mortals such as you call us.”

“Yes, but not all remain such, thankfully. There's Dr. Jakob—and Derwent. Two very different men, yet they have much the same belief in the meaning of life, the same solid character. They seem to be able to look through the fog of ideas and choose what's meaningful.”

“Bah. Fools, both. Derwent will never amount to much in this life. If you hadn't taken a liking to the lad, he'd still be stuck in Grimston Way most likely teaching at the rectory in some minor capacity.”

Rogan felt the sting. Julien hadn't meant to, but Rogan was aware that by and large he'd been responsible for bringing Derwent to Bulawayo.

“Looking back, I'd do things differently. I wish Derwent were at the vicarage teaching.”

“Sentimental tommyrot. I'm ashamed of you, Rogan,” he said in mocking amusement. “You're getting a conscience in your old age, or perhaps the idea of becoming a father is turning you into a philosopher.”

Rogan sank into a chair, stretching out his legs in front of him, drawing his brows together.

Julien looked down at him speculatively, then he laughed with humor.

“What is it? The married life isn't as blissful as you anticipated?” He laughed again.

Rogan met his gaze evenly, not the least bit amused. “Evy supports Dr. Jakob in his work. She's anxious to use some of her inheritance to expand his medical hut into a hospital.”

“And you haven't talked any sense into her?”

“I happen to agree with her on the idea. What we disagree on is her being here at all. I didn't know she was expecting until we were far at sea. Now it's too late. I need to make the best of things.”

Julien chuckled. He leaned back against his desk, arms folded, his one good eye glinting with malicious amusement.

“So now your firstborn will be born a Rhodesian. That much is splendid! I'm beginning to like this after all. There may be hope for all I've accomplished and planned for the family in South Africa. I've always said you could be an asset to me, or you could turn out to be as useless as Anthony proved to be. The biggest mistake I made years ago was adopting Anthony and making him a son before it became clear that he never had fire warming his blood.”

“Well, he's gone now,” Rogan said heartlessly. He had noticed the door move slightly. When Darinda had left the room, Julien had told her to shut the door behind her. It was open a crack. He suspected she was eavesdropping.

To teach her a lesson about trusting Julien, Rogan played along with him. “Maybe you have something there, Uncle. With the inheritance Evy gets from the van Burens, and now from Anthony, along with my inheritance, our children will be strong new blood in the family dynasty.”

“I may have found my true heir.” He chuckled again and eyed Rogan with alert new interest. “Wisely said. Now you're seeing things as they should be. But don't mention Evy's interest in Jakob's work. That
Boer is more than a thorn in my side. He's an out-and-out sword. Missionaries! They bring nothing but trouble when they arrive. I was against the BSA allowing him to come here and construct that compound out of town. Always harping on native rights and the need to build schools, hospitals, churches—bah! As if the warrior caste will ever want to attend a school!”

It's either churches and schools or assegais and hatred
. The colonialists would need to give them something in place of what they were taking from the hills and reefs, but Rogan did not say this aloud.