Chapter Three

      Kit joined a group around her aunt, and was soon taken to dance by a very young gentleman, a young gentleman who was rather less subtle than Mr Devenish.

      Kit’s heart plummeted as he blurted out his question. “A diamond mine!” she gasped. “Everybody knows I own—!” She stopped in mid-step. “Oh, good God! You cannot mean it?”

      Young Mr Wollborough stared back owlishly at her.

      Yes, Kit realised. He did indeed mean it. She ignored his dismay at her reaction and sat down on a nearby bench. Whatever am I to do now!

      Mr Wollborough looked dismally at her. “Drat! Mother did say it was a secret, that you did not wish to be courted for your fortune.”

      Courted for her fortune! Kit closed her eyes and tried to repress a hysterical bubble of laughter. A penniless adventuress, courted for her fortune!

      “I’m dashed sorry to have distressed you like this, Miss Singleton! I’m a tattle-tongued fool! You don’t need to fret about me knowing. I’ll not mention it to a soul. In any case, I’m sure very few people know about it. I know I was told it in the strictest confidence.”

      She stared at him blankly. Very few people indeed! Everything clicked into place: Miss Singleton’s comments about her wearing pearls instead of diamonds; Lord Norwood and other men’s determined courtships; Mr Devenish’s equally determined questioning about her background.

      Mr Wollborough hovered, awkwardly. “Can I get you a glass of something? Er, do you want me to fetch your aunt?”

      Kit took no notice of him. Her mind was in a whirl. Virtually the entire ton must believe her to be rich. That was the reason so many people had been so very friendly and welcoming towards an unknown young woman. It wasn’t “polite society” at all—these people were no different from others she had encountered all over the world. Money smoothed all paths, honeyed all tongues, welcomed all strangers.

      They imagined her to be a great heiress! It would be laughable, if it were not so disastrous to her scheme. But however had such an outrageous rumour started? Such a ridiculous one, what’s more—a diamond mine! How could she ever get out of this one?

      She glanced up at the crestfallen young blade who hovered awkwardly, looking crushed and miserable. Kit repressed another bubble of half-hysterical laughter. Young Mr Wollborough was only too aware that he’d blown his chance with the great heiress.

      “Take me to my aunt, if you please, Mr Wollborough,” said the heiress. “I find I have the headache.”

      As soon as they reached home, Kit broached the matter with Rose Singleton. “Young Mr Wollborough asked me about a diamond mine, Aunt Rose.”

      “Hmm, yes, dear?” said Rose, retrieving a trailing scarf which had almost slipped to the floor.

      “He seems to believe—a number of people, in fact, seem to believe that I own a diamond mine.”

      “Yes.” Rose’s brow wrinkled at the look on her niece’s face. “What is the matter? I know you did not wish it to be generally known, but these things have a way of coming out.”

      “But why would people believe I own a mine full of diamonds?”

      “It was diamonds, was it not? I’m sure it was—I would have remembered if he’d said rubies or emeralds. Or sapphires—sapphires would go so beautifully with your eyes. But no, I was certain he said a diamond mine.”

      “Who said?”

      Rose frowned. “Your father, of course! Who else?”

      Kit closed her eyes briefly. Papa! Who else!

      “My papa told you he owned a diamond mine?”

      “Wait, I’ll fetch the letter.” Rose wandered into the front withdrawing room where her small Sheraton writing desk stood. She rummaged through the pile of papers in the desk, then turned and peered around the room, annoyed. “Now where has it got to? Things move in this house, there is no denying it.”

      “Oh, never mind,” said Kit. “It will turn up sooner or later. Now just refresh my mind, will you please, Aunt dearest? Where did my papa say this diamond mine was situated?”

      Aunt Rose looked at her in astonishment. “Don’t you know where it is situated? How very odd. But I suppose…”

      “Where is the diamond mine, Aunt Rose?” Kit prompted gently.

      “Why, in New South Wales, of course. Where else?”

      New South Wales? A diamond mine in New South Wales? Kit closed her eyes for a brief second. Of course. It was just like her father to throw in a last-minute embellishment like this. A quite impossible, ridiculous, ludicrous embellishment.

      Kit took a deep breath and unclenched her fists. It was, after all, improper, not to say unfilial, if not downright impossible, to strangle the dead!

      “Did I get it wrong, my love?” said Rose anxiously. “But where else would it be, for that was where you were living, was it not? My friend Mr Harris thought it an exceeding odd place for a diamond mine, too. Oh, where is that wretched letter?”

      “You told your friend Mr Harris I owned a diamond mine in New South Wales? Oh, Aunt Rose! How could you? As if anyone would ever believe anything so fantastical. And ridiculous! New South Wales is a tiny, struggling convict settlement. A penal colony, for Heaven’s sake!”

      Kit took a deep breath as she considered her situation. Everything had been going so smoothly, so well—quite as if it were not one of Papa’s schemes. Now, suddenly, she had an impossible diamond mine to somehow incorporate into an already impossible plan! It was quite like old times. Suddenly her sense of humour got the better of her. Kit collapsed in a chair and peals of laughter rang out.

      “But was that not correct, my love?” ventured Rose uncertainly. “Only I could have sworn that is what your father explained to me. And his letter did most certainly come from New South Wales.” She looked round her distractedly. “If only I could find his letter. It is quite mystifying to me, how so many things seem to disappear in this house.” She lifted a blue satin cushion and peered hopefully under it, but no letter appeared.

      “No,” said Kit, the laughter dying from her eyes. “Papa started to tell me he had written to you, but he was dying. I knew only what he asked me to do. I might have known there would be other aspects to his scheme.”

      “Scheme. What an odd name for it,” said Rose curiously. “I suppose all parents make plans for their daughters’ come-outs, but to call it a scheme—how very odd. But then your father was never one to take the simple straightforward path, was he?” She sighed pensively and smoothed the cover of the cushion she was still holding.

      Kit regarded her aunt curiously, wondering whether Rose still retained some affection for her father. After a moment or two she said, “Aunt Rose, have you told many people?”

      “Oh, Heavens, no,” said Rose. “It would be terribly vulgar to boast of such a thing. No, no. I only mentioned it—in confidence, of course—to one or two very discreet friends.”

      Kit regarded her dubiously. “Well, perhaps it will be all right, but if anyone asks me—”

      “Heavens, child, you must not fret yourself about any such thing. No one would dream of asking you.” Rose was shocked. “Ask a young girl? As if you would have any idea of your father’s business matters!” She laughed. “The very idea!”

      Kit bit her tongue. She had spent an entire evening parrying questions about it. But she would not distress Rose by telling her so.

      It was a mystery to her