Page 60 of Daisy and the Duke
Dear T—
Where to begin? I suspect you’ll not even read this, after what you received from me at first. I have three letters from you, and I regret that I did not answer them at once, but you will, I hope, understand why I waited, once you learn all that happened.
The bare fact of the matter is that my partner, Mr. Rait, turned out to be a bounder of the worst sort. He switched stones on me! He slipped some rubbish into the package meant for you, and he switched another stone that I sent for an appraisal from a reputable Hyderabad firm that I wanted to work with on cutting. Apparently, after using the ten thousand from your generous loan, his plan was to make the venture seemed doomed, buy us both out for a pittance and then own the whole diamond mine himself!
And it does produce diamonds, my friend, I can confirm that at last. When the firm sent me the report that my beautiful diamond was a mere chunk of quartz, you can imagine my horror. Well, you don’t have to imagine it, for you would have felt the same if you sent your sample to an appraiser, as I assume you did. I got sick to my stomach and nearly threw myself into the nearest pit, and I’ve got plenty of pits to choose from now, as workers are digging like mad. I couldn’t believe the news and thank God, I had another little stash from our initial foray into the caves that I kept separate, and I sentthoseto the appraiser to put them to the test. And wouldn’t you know, they were the genuine article, lovely diamonds worth their weight and more.
On the advice of the firm, I hired a man to investigate Mr. Rait, and it was discovered that the cad had pulled tricks like this before, though not on such a scale and never involving the money of the British aristocracy. As soon as I said a duke was involved, the law here snapped to. My partner was arrested trying to board a ship, his luggage full ofourdiamonds. He was a much wanted man, known to be a snake by those he’s wronged. And it seems that the prisons in India are not for the faint of heart, for he tried to bribe the judge with a few diamonds to be let off. The judge took the diamonds, and sent him to the prison anyway. Such is justice for the wicked.
This means that you are now owner of half the mine, instead of a third. And the mine is already producing quality stones. I have sold some already, and I directed the bank to alert the London branch of the running total of our account there. I believe that you will soon find it easy to repay your loan far earlier than would be expected. And there’s much more profit to come.
I include a collection of some of the first stones to be extracted by our miners. The large one will have to be cut of course, but I am confident that it will go some way in making up my debt to you, for you must have thought me a liar and cheat, when in fact I was merely an idiot and a coward. I beg you to forgive me. I am sailing to London early in the new year, and I will call on you when I arrive in the country, in hopes you will receive me.
I urge you to contact the bank in London to verify the deposits, and to contact your appraiser to verify the included stones, not least because you will wish to insure them…
Tristan read the letter twice before the words sunk in, and a third time before he opened the accompanying package.
When he did, a clutch of stones gleamed out at him. They were rough, uncut pieces. But there was a special weight to them, an electricity in the surface. Tristan picked up the largest one, which he could grip in his closed fist. He then read the neatly written report folded into the package, which stated that the stones within were gem-quality diamonds, estimated to be worth over one hundred pounds per carat, once cut.
Tristan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He held real wealth in his hands now, after fearing that he’d be ruined. But what was the point of having such wealth when he had no idea where Daisy was, or if she was even alive?
“Jack won’t believe this,” he muttered. Thinking of his friend, Tristan rang for his valet. Twenty minutes later, he was dressed and striding down the hall to the study where Jack spent most of his time.
“Read this,” Tristan ordered, shoving the letter in Jack’s lap.
Jack dutifully read it, his eyebrows rising with each sentence. At the end, he put the letter down. “My God,” he said, shaking his head. “What a roundabout way to come out on top. At least there’s one problem solved.”
“But the less important one. I’m losing my mind, Jack. Where the hell could she have gone? Is she lying in the woods somewhere…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“Not near here, with all the dogs set out to search for her,” Jack noted with his usual calm. “Personally, I think she must have found some shelter and is hiding there. The servants from all the houses around here have been…furtiveisn’t really the right word, but if you ask me, even if one of them knew something, it wouldn’t be passed on to us, lest the authorities get wind of it. Somehow, Miss Merriot has allies in low places, and they’ll keep silent, so long as they think it’s safer for her if they do.”
“But if she got hurt, or lost…”
“Lost? This is her home. Well, it used to be, before the baroness showed up.”
“What does that mean?” Tristan blinked at the new thread in the conversation. Jack clearly had something on his mind. “She told us both what happened after her father died. It’s odd and not fair to her, but she made the best of it.”
Jack said, “I know what she told us, and what others said. But the explanation never held water. So I did some investigating on my own.”
“How could you do anything when you can barely walk around the gardens?”
Jack pulled a letter from his jacket pocket. “There are other ways to get information. Over the past several weeks, I’ve been making inquiries of a few solicitors’ firms in London, and learned some very interesting things about the late baron’s last will and testament.”
“Time for that later,” Tristan said, though his curiosity was piqued. “What’s more important is to find Daisy as soon as possible. It’s impossible to vanish into thin air!”
A knock at the door startled them both. The butler said, “Apologies, your grace, but you have a visitor. Miss Bella says she has some information about Miss Daisy Merriot.”
“My God, man, then send her in!” Tristan ordered.
Moments later, a very nervous Bella stood before the two men. She scarcely lifted her eyes, and never looked at Tristan directly. She chanced only tiny glances toward Jack, the less imposing figure.
She curtsied. “Your grace. Mr. Kemble.”
“Please sit,” Tristan said, pointing to the seat at right angles to where Jack had risen to greet the lady. “We are told you know something about Miss Daisy.”
“Yes, sirs.” Her normally quiet voice was scarcely more than a whisper. “I believe I may,mayknow where she is.”
Tristan leaned forward. “Then tell us.”
