Mr Cavell's Diamond (4 page)

Henry

‘
Oh, let me see it again!’ cried Caroline. Henry smiled indulgently and pulled out the piece of paper, which was already looking the worse for wear, having been pored over by Caroline, clutched to her breast, and even kissed.

‘
Our licence! We are really to be married! Oh, Henry!’ She flung her arms about his neck for the twentieth time that afternoon and kissed him. ‘Tell me again how you got it.’

‘
All right, one more time, my dear! First let me call for some tea. I’m parched. Please, sit down, and I shall tell you it all again.’ He pulled the cord which hung beside the fireplace, and asked the maid for tea and cakes. Then he sat beside Caroline and took her hands in his.

‘
I called yesterday on your father, and asked for your hand. He was surprised, I think, but agreeable, saying if it was what
you
desired then it was what
he
desired. Your father is a good man, Caroline. He wants what is best for you, as any father would.’

Caroline smiled, and pulled out a lace-edged handkerchief.
‘Oh, how I love my Pa! What did my mother say? I do wish I could have been there to see her face…’

‘
Your mother was not in the room when we discussed the proposal, my dear. But as I left I heard her reaction to the news. She was… delighted, I would say.’ Henry did not relate the exact words he’d heard – Caroline’s mother’s immediate reaction was to question her daughter’s virtue.

‘
And today? How did it all go?’

‘
I rode to Brighton this morning,’ he said. ‘Remember I told you I own property there? The new church of St Peter is perfect for our wedding. It’s grander than our local St Mary’s. I paid the bond and obtained the marriage licence.’ Henry broke off here, for the young maid had entered with a tea-tray. He noted the slight raise of her eyebrows at his words, ‘marriage licence’. Well, she and Mrs Smith would need to be told, anyway. They would soon have a mistress to answer to. He wondered how they would take to Caroline, when she became Mrs Cavell. The cook was a good one, and the maid gave no trouble, so he hoped they would stay on.

When they were alone again, Henry continued.
‘I’ve ordered a carriage for ten o’clock tomorrow. Will your father and mother come, do you think?’

‘
I hope so,’ said Caroline. ‘I should like my mother to see me wed.’ She sighed. ‘How I wish I might have had time to sew a new gown. But I suppose,’ she giggled, ‘I would no sooner have finished the gown than I would have to let it out. It’s as well we are marrying quickly.’

‘
Indeed it is.’

Caroline stood up, and began pacing about the room.
‘Oh Henry, I cannot wait until tomorrow. When I am Mrs Cavell. Mrs Henry Cavell. Oh how good that sounds! Henry, may I… would you… show me your bedchamber? Where we will sleep tomorrow night? Just so… I can imagine it, when I spend my last night alone?’

Henry stood and took her hands.
‘Caroline, tomorrow is soon enough, surely?’

‘
No, my love. I would like to see it now. Just for a moment. Please?’ She cocked her head on one side and gave her lopsided smile. Henry melted. As always this gesture won him over. He led her out of the room and up the stairs, noticing the maid duck back into the shadows as they went.

Upstairs, Henry opened the door to his bedchamber and stood back to allow Caroline to enter first. He noticed her quiet intake of breath as she noted the opulent velvet curtains he’d recently bought, and the shining mahogany furniture. He was glad he’d invested in quality pieces, but wondered whether she’d notice the difference.
The fact that the furniture was obviously new was probably enough to impress her.

He watched as she moved around the room, fingering the drapes, stroking the dressing table top. She picked up a silver candlestick and turned it over in her hands.
‘Beautiful,’ she murmured. Replacing it on the dresser, her attention was caught by a small wooden box, carved with elephants around the sides, which Henry had bought in a market in Meerut, during his time in India. ‘Curious,’ she said, opening it.

Too late, Henry remembered what was inside it. He moved forward to take it from her, but she had already pulled out the little
velvet pouch, and was tipping its contents into her hand.

The diamond glittered in the late afternoon sun which streamed in through the window. It seemed to shine with its own,
magical, inner light. Henry watched as Caroline picked it up between her thumb and forefinger and held it up for inspection.

‘
Pretty,’ she said. ‘Is it for me?’

Was
it for her? He’d been presented with it by a Maharajah to whom he’d done a great service. Henry recalled his intention that he would give it to the woman he loved most in all the world. With a jolt, he realised he hadn’t met that woman yet. While Caroline intrigued him and excited him, he knew he didn’t love her. Not in the way he’d always felt he
should
love the woman he married. Was it too late? Could he cancel the wedding, pay Caroline off somehow, give her an allowance to support the child, free himself to marry someone else…

No. His sense of fair dealing stopped him. He had made her pregnant, she clearly worshipped him, so it was only right that he should marry her and bring up their child. His future was determined,
it had been set at that moment on Cissbury Ring when he had taken her for himself.

He crossed the room and took the jewel from her fingers, slipping it back inside its
velvet pouch. ‘It’s only glass, my love. It was my sister’s, when she was a child. We would pretend it was real, and I would fight imaginary dragons to win it for her. It’s worthless. I keep it only for memory’s sake.’ He paused. Caroline’s look was one of disbelief tinged with disappointment. ‘We’ll go up to London, within the month, my love. I’ll buy you a real diamond. We can have it set in a ring, or a brooch or necklace – whatever you would like most.’

He was rewarded by a smile and a kiss.
‘London! And a diamond – oh, I think I should like a ring. Though maybe a brooch would be more noticeable. Perhaps a diamond in the middle, surrounded by some smaller stones – rubies? Or sapphires. What do you think, Henry? Which would suit me more?’

‘
Sapphires, perhaps. To match your eyes. But you must choose.’ He put the little pouch back into the elephant box, and closed its lid. He would hide it away later. He would never now give it to any woman, he knew. Perhaps if they had a daughter, he could give it to her on her wedding day. Failing that he would leave it to a female servant in his will. A sudden vision of the wren-like little maid gasping in astonishment at such a gift flitted through his mind.

He pulled Caroline towards him and wrapped his arms around her. Nuzzling his face into her hair, he reminded himself that this was the woman he would marry on the morrow, the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. The woman who
carried his child, and for that reason alone was worthy of all the jewels he could buy.

Jemima

It is very late but it has been a very strange sort of day so I must think through all that has happened before I will be able to sleep.

Yesterday Mr
Cavell was out for much of the day and he came back agitated. Then Miss Simpson came to visit, and they talked in the drawing room, then they
went upstairs
. I saw them go and told Mrs Smith, also I told her I were sure I heard the Master say something about
marriage licence.

‘
Never!’ she said. ‘Master won’t marry that trollop, not unless she is with child.’ Then she put her hand to her mouth. All I could do was stare at her.

Well
, we decided we would find it all out soon enough, though we neither of us guessed we had only a day to wait.

Today the Master w
as up very early and I was still clearing the grate in the breakfast room when he came in asking for coffee. I scurried to the kitchen to fetch it but he rang the bell almost immediately and asked for tea instead, then changed his mind and said coffee again, with a breakfast of eggs and ham. Mrs Smith had the eggs on the plate when he rang again and said he just wanted toast. He was lucky she didn’t throw the eggs at him.

We sigh
ed with relief when he left the house just after nine o’clock. He was dressed in his best jacket and his new yellow cravat. I shined his boots and pressed his breeches yesterday. Altogether he looked a fine and handsome man, all dressed up and polished and I did like to see him so smart. Before he left he gave us instructions to clean the drawing room, prepare supper for six, fetch three bottles of the second best wine from the cellar, and make sure to be in clean apron and cap when he returned. He left Sultan behind and the poor dog was so distressed at not going with his Master I had to fuss him and love him a good while till he calmed down.

‘
He’ll be a-marrying Miss Simpson today, I reckon,’ I said to Mrs Smith. Though I don’t understand why he only wanted the second best wine brought up. He drank a bottle of the best wine only last week when his friend Mr Dennett came to call.’

Mrs Smith
grumped and set her mouth hard. She doesn’t like Miss Simpson and I worry she won’t stay if Miss Simpson becomes our mistress. I don’t like Miss Simpson much either but I reckon I can keep my head down and work for anyone, as long as they let me get on with my work like Mr Cavell does.

We
were busy all day making everything ready. The Master arrived home at six o’clock, and along-of him came Miss Simpson, another lady, and three gentlemen who were Mr Dennett and Miss Simpson’s father and brother, who I remember from when they were decorating here. The brother winked at me as I let them in. His face is still as red and spotty as it ever was. They all went into the drawing room and I went amongst them pouring wine and curtseying. Miss Simpson looked most triumphant, and the other lady who I discovered was her mother looked proud, so I reckoned there had indeed been a wedding and Mrs Smith and I would have a mistress to answer to.

Mrs Smith
put on a clean apron and my spare cap, and came to help me serve the supper in the dining room. We had made onion soup in the French style to start, duck and ham pie, and a walnut whipped cream dessert. When the party had finished their dessert my Master waved at me and Mrs Smith to refill the glasses and he stood up at the head of the table.

‘
Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all, for your presence today on what has been a most joyous occasion. Please, raise your glasses and drink with me, to my dear wife, Mrs Henry Cavell.’

So
then we knew it were true, surely. They all stood, except Miss Simpson who I must now call Mrs Cavell, and took a sup. I glanced over at Mrs Smith who rolled her eyes and grimaced. But we both clapped with the party, and gave three cheers to the happy couple.

The party
went into the drawing room after that, and Mrs Smith and I were left to clear up. She slumped into the chair Mr Dennett had sat in, and sighed.

‘
Well, that’s our peace and quiet gone. That woman will be wanting changes, mark my words. She won’t let us have a moment’s peace. I wonder does the poor master know what he’s taken on.’ She shook her head sadly.

‘
She may be all right,’ said I. ‘She may let us carry on as we have been. I reckon if she has got a baby on the way, she won’t have time to be fretting about how we do things downstairs.’

‘
Well, I will give it a month,’ said Mrs Smith. ‘I know you don’t want me to go, but Jemmy, I can’t stay if that woman starts treading on my toes. I always did prefer to work for bachelor gentlemen.’

I hug
ged her for agreeing to stay a while. She has been such a friend to me since I started here.

It
was very late, and we’d had to fetch more wine from the cellar, before the party finally broke up. Of course Miss Simpson stayed. This is her home now. The Master rang for me and told me he would fetch her things tomorrow, but for now I was to make his bedchamber suitable for a lady.

I
went up-along and looked at the room, and tried to imagine it as a lady’s room – a honeymoon room. I drew the curtains, put fresh water in the wash-jug with a sprig of rosemary, took a bunch of bluebells from my own room and put them in a little vase on the Master’s dressing table. I put away his boots and found a lace cloth to spread over the bedside table. I turned back the bed and lit candles on every surface. Mrs Smith has a lavender pillow her sister gave her. I borrowed it and placed it on the bed. When I was finished I think Mrs Smith may be right. The new Mrs Cavell will want to change all this and make it
hers
. I had done my best and I hoped the Master would know that. But it matters not, because now we have a Mistress and if she don’t like it, then he won’t like it, and that will be trouble.

I
went downstairs to say the room was ready with shaking knees. Being they are just married I hoped her eyes would be only on her husband but I noticed the wrinkling of her nose when I showed them into the room.

‘
Oh Henry,’ she said, a-fluttering her eyes at him. ‘Are we really married? Am I really your wife?’

I curtsey
ed and left them, closing the door softly. You
are
his wife, I thought, and my mistress, and I wonder how we shall all get along.

Later, just when I
were nearly in bed, the master did call for me and I had to get up again. He had Sultan by the collar, and the poor dog’s tail were atwixt his legs. ‘Find a new bed for the dog,’ said my Master. ‘The Mistress does not like having him in the bedchamber.’ I fetched Sultan’s blanket from the kitchen to my room and settled him at the foot of my bed. He whined for a while but I told him this was his room now, and he licked my hand and then laid with his head on my feet while I curled up at the top end of my bed.