The Yellow Diamond

By Michelle Grahame

ABOUT THE BOOK
Mystery and Romance in Regency England
It is the spring of 1817, and 28-year-old widow, Amanda Fletcher, guardian to Sir Piers and Rosalie abbot, has accompanied them to stay with the dowager Marchioness of Coverdale, for the London season. Amanda has been obliged to bring with her a rare and valuable yellow diamond, because mysterious, anonymous notes claiming that the jewel does not belong to the Abbot family, have been received. Justin, the handsome,32-year-old, Marquis, offers to keep it safe for her. A rapport develops between them, until Amanda discovers some unwelcome news.
In Coverdale House; 19-year-old Rosalie a talented musician, realises that a shadowy figure is listening to her practicing for a concert. Is this Justin’s reclusive younger brother, who occupies rooms in the east wing, and looked after by the “sergeant”?
Justin is intrigued by an impression of a seal he finds, belonging to Amanda, and visits the eminent Dr Pargeter, her some-time mentor, for information.
Another anonymous note is delivered, and then Rosalie is abducted in broad daylight, and the footman accompanying her badly wounded. Who will ride to her rescue? And who is the true owner of THE YELLOW DIAMOND?
More about the families in “STAPLEWOOD PARK”. Coming soon!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Aug 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781728374819

Book preview

THE

YELLOW

DIAMOND

MICHELLE GRAHAME

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AuthorHouse™ UK

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© 2022 Michelle Grahame. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/24/2022

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7479-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7480-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7481-9 (e)

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

About The Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Author’s Notes

Acknowledgements

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Love Will Have to Wait

Lord of Hades

Rhapsody in Black

Dedication

In Loving memory of Frank

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

author%20photo.jpg

Michelle Grahame lives in Northwest Kent, and enjoys visits from her family, reading and taking part in local activities. I love creating characters and plots for my novels. Says Michelle. As an avid collector, she likes attending boot and antique fairs, where a random purchase can become an inspiration for her writing. A qualified Art Historian and lecturer, now retired, she has had many opportunities to engage with people who share her interest. The YELLOW DIAMOMD, and its sequel, STAPLEWOOD PARK, are her first historical novels.

If you enjoyed The Yellow Diamond, I would love to hear from you.

www.michellegrahame.co.uk

CHAPTER 1

T he Marquis of Coverdale, leaning against the mantelpiece of his mother’s withdrawing room, was not attired for a morning call, but dressed for riding. He caught a glimpse of his stock in the over-mantel looking-glass, and rearranged a crease before saying: ‘Well, Mama?’

The Dowager Marchioness, seated by the fire, looked up from her needlework. ‘I wanted to see you, Justin.’

His Lordship raised a dark eyebrow. ‘I rather gathered that, from the note I received, just as I was about to set off for the park, and here I am, always the obedient son.’

‘Well, you see, dear—’

But any explanation his mother was about to give was cut short by a discreet tap on the door. The butler entered, bearing a silver salver, which he presented to her ladyship, who took the single card, read it, and passed it to her son.

‘The persons you have been expecting have arrived, M’lady. Do you wish me to show them up?’

‘Yes, Clarkson, immediately, and then bring refreshments, coffee, madeira wine, and some pastries, that sort of thing.’ She waved a languid hand.

‘Very good, M’lady.’

The butler withdrew, and the marquis took the opportunity to examine the card, a simple one bearing the printed name: Sir Piers Abbot, Abbots Court, Somerset. Written below, in ink, was the legend, Miss Abbot and ‘Mrs Fletcher."

Moments later, three people were ushered into the room. tall lady dressed in plain green merino, relieved only by narrow bands of lace at the neck and cuffs, and a much younger lady, barely out of the schoolroom, whose sprigged muslin dress, paled into insignificance in the shadow of her outstanding beauty: large cornflower-blue eyes and rosebud lips, and tip-tilted nose, set in a heart-shaped face, framed with blonde ringlets. The third member of the trio was a young man, with blond hair, and fashionably clad, but clearly not London-tailored. He was visibly leaning on an ivory-handled ebony cane; his face was pale and his expression drawn.

‘Oh, my dear children, and Mrs Fletcher, too, welcome, welcome indeed. I hope your journey wasn’t too trying.’ She was looking anxiously at the young man and held out her arms.

The girl rushed forward. ‘Oh God-mamma, how kind of you to ask us here.’ She clasped the old lady’s hand with both of hers.

This was the first clue that the marquis had gleaned of what was going on, but his mother soon provided more information. ‘Justin, dear, this lovely child is my god-daughter, Rosalie, and may I introduce Sir Piers Abbot?’

The Marquis held out his hand, and the young man came forward rather stiffly to shake it. ‘How do you do, My Lord? I am very pleased to meet you.’ He bowed.

‘Your servant, Sir Piers,’ replied the Marquis, still somewhat bewildered by the turn of events.

‘Mrs Fletcher, I am so glad you were able to find the time to come. May I introduce you to my son, the Marquis of Coverdale? Justin, this lady is the guardian of these two young people.’

The marquis raised a dark eyebrow; the lady seemed very young to be a guardian, besides it being unusual for any woman to be in that position anyway, but he smiled his welcome as Amanda Fletcher bobbed a curtsey. Her next utterance took him by surprise completely.

‘It was so kind of Lady Coverdale to suggest that you might be able to help me out of the little difficulty I find myself in. I expect it has all been explained to you—’

Keeping a straight face, he replied. ‘not precisely, Mrs Fletcher,’ skewering his mother with a lance-like glare, which she studiously avoided. She was spared a reply by a footman arriving with a tray of drinks and pastries.

Looking meaningfully at her son, the marchioness said: ‘perhaps you would like to take Mrs Fletcher to the book-room, where she can explain matters in more detail, while I talk to these dear children.’

‘An excellent idea, Mama.’

‘Thank you, Alfred, have some refreshments sent to the book-room at once.’

‘Yes, M’lady.’ He set he tray on a small table and withdrew.

The marquis turned to the lady in question, who was wearing a quizzical expression, tinged, with a touch of amusement.

‘Allow me to escort you, Ma’am.’

Once settled in the large book-lined room, furnished with reading-desks, easy chairs, and a pair of large globes, Amanda Fletcher felt it should be she, who opened the conversation.

‘How much does not precisely mean, concerning my problem, My Lord?’

Justin gave a little half-smile. ‘I imagine from that remark, Mrs Fletcher, you realise I know nothing at all. In fact, your very existence was unknown to me before you stepped into my mother’s drawing room. The other two, I suppose, I have been vaguely aware of before. I’m afraid my mother has either been extremely forgetful, which is unlikely, or deliberately kept me in the dark, for reasons of her own.’

Before she could reply, another footman arrived. Justin immediately took the tray and dismissed the servant. Placing the tray on a nearby table, he turned to ask Amanda what her preference was.

‘Coffee, My Lord, if you please.’

Once comfortably seated, Justin began, ‘Perhaps we may now try to unravel your …er …difficulty, Mrs Fletcher,’ he said, with an encouraging smile.

After a short pause, while Amanda gathered her thoughts, she began. ‘It is primarily a financial problem, Lord Coverdale,’ then realising he might think she was short of money, she went on hastily, ‘our mother has just told you that I am the legal guardian of those two young people upstairs, and therefore am in control of their finances until they come of age. While in Somerset, there is no difficulty, but now that I …we …are in Town, there is. I shall need to draw on money for all kinds of expenses, especially for Rosalie’s debut.’ She stopped, feeling she was rattling on.

Justin looked puzzled, and said, ‘I don’t think I understand the problem.’

‘That is because you are a man, My Lord. You may not be aware that women are not permitted to have account at London bank, and it would be impossible to apply to my fellow trustee, a solicitor in Taunton, to send money by post, so I need to be able to set up banking facilities. I have brought a banker’s order, drawn on the trustee account. Your mother wrote to me saying you could help.’

‘Did she, indeed?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, she was right. Of course, I can. I will speak to my secretary as soon as possible, and it can be fixed in no time. You have enough for your needs at the moment?’

Amanda couldn’t help a little sigh of relief. ‘Oh, yes, quite sufficient, but not enough to last the whole Season.’ She put down her cup and rose to go. ‘Thank you so much, Lord Coverdale, for offering to help; it has taken a lot of worry from my mind.’

‘Please,’ begged the marquis, ‘won’t you stay a little while longer and tell me what else is still on your mind. Let me pour you another cup, Mrs Fletcher.’

Amanda wondered why he thought she had other worries, but nevertheless, sank back in her chair and accepted a second cup of coffee.

‘I don’t know what made you think I have further concerns, but you are right.’ She looked up and saw kindness in his unusual golden eyes.

‘I believe if someone says they’ve been relieved of a lot of worries, it probably means there are more, or perhaps it is because you have the guardianship of two young people, when, if you will excuse me saying so, I imagine you are barely older than them, yourself. If you don’t consider it an impertinent question. How did it come about?’

Amanda was going to tell him more about Sir Piers and Rosalie but had not expected to do so, so soon. ‘No, My Lord, it is not impertinent at all. It came about because my late husband, Agnew Fletcher, was their guardian, and when he died two and a half years ago, he arranged with the other trustee I think I mentioned him, a Mr Smallbody, of Taunton, that they should become my wards on his death.’

Justin nodded. ‘And that arrangement suited you?’

‘Yes, Agnew had been a residentiary canon at Wells Cathedral, and we had a house in the cathedral close, which of course I had to leave when he died, so going to live at Abbots Court was very convenient for me, as well as being able to oversee Piers and Rosalie, who were nineteen and fifteen at the time, although I had known them from the time Agnew became their guardian.’ She took another sip of coffee, and her hand trembled a little as she replaced it in the saucer, nervous about what she was going to say next. ‘I know, Sir, that you are a man to be trusted, and …’

‘Indeed, Mrs Fletcher,’ the marquis interrupted, ‘and how did you come by such information? If it is true.’

‘Oh, I know it is true, My Lord, I have friends not in high places, or of high rank, but of great intelligence and in positions of trust in the interests of this country.’ She saw surprise in Justin’s expression. ‘And,’ she went on, ’I have read as much about you as I could find;; it’s quite a lot. Marquis of Coverdale, Earl St. Maure, Viscount Fairfield. MA, JP, and deputy lieutenant of the County of Essex.’

Justin was a little taken aback; ‘Why all this research into my personal life?’ he queried.

‘Because what I am going to tell you now may be of vital importance to Piers and Rosalie, and perhaps to me too. I’m sorry, I have to think, and I do it better standing up.’

Amanda rose to her feet, but signalled to his lordship stay seated, then began to walk up and down the centre of the long library, unwittingly giving Justin an opportunity to observe her in more detail than he had hitherto been afforded.

Her dress, he noted, although drab in colour, was of the finest material, and so well-made that it flowed around her long legs as she strode up and down the room. She wore a widow’s cap of fine lavender lace, but it could not entirely conceal an abundance of auburn hair that was doing its best to escape from its confinement. Her high-bosomed figure was supple, but her shoulders were, perhaps, a little broader than the current fashion dictated. Her air of deep concentration could not disguise her fine, brown eyes or attractive features. He liked what he saw. Amanda Fletcher was clearly a woman out of the ordinary, and he was keen to hear what she had to say, even although it probably meant getting involved, perhaps in something he would rather not.

The lady resumed her seat. ‘I must first explain how Sir Percy left his money in his will. The estate of Abbots Court and its income, became wholly owned by Piers, and when he reaches the age of twenty-five, he will have the bulk of Sir Percy’s considerable wealth, and I will be relieved of the burden of administering it, together with Mr Smallbody, of course.’

‘That seems quite straightforward, does it not?’ Justin commented.

‘Yes, it is, but it is Rosalie’s inheritance that is giving me a real problem. Her father left a relatively small portion of his estate to his daughter and put it in trust for her lifetime, so no would-be fortune hunter could play fast and loose with it. Something I must say I approve of. I don’t think it is right that a woman’s husband can take his wife’s money when she marries, but that’s beside the point. It’s the law, unfortunately.’

Justin thought for a moment. ‘Miss Rosalie is a very pretty girl, but now she is about to embark on her first Season, with only her face to recommend her to possible suitors, no dowry, is that the problem?’

‘Oh, indeed no. Rosalie has a dowry. Excuse me a moment.’

To his surprise, Amanda stood up again and turned her back to him, He saw her hands detach something at the back of her neck, and when she faced him again and held out her hand, her palm was almost completely covered with the most amazing jewel he had ever seen. An enormous pear-shaped, brilliant-yellow gem glowed and sparkled on Amanda’s hand. Justin was rarely lost for words, but the sheer size and magnificence of the jewel fairly took his breath away.

Amanda was the first to speak. ‘Rosalie’s dowry,’ she said.

CHAPTER 2

‘G od in Heaven!’ The marquis finally found his voice. ‘ What is that?’

‘Just what it appears to be, My Lord.’ Amanda turned her hand so the jewel’s facets threw off living sparks of sunlight. ‘It is a flawless 63 carat, or thereabouts, very rare, yellow diamond.’

‘May I?’ Justin extended his hand towards the jewel.

‘Certainly, please do.’ Without touching Amanda’s hand, he took the jewel by the thin velvet ribbon, from which it had been suspended round her neck, and held it up to the light. The midday spring sun shone through it, casting a shower of fiery sparks of light into every corner of the room as it slowly revolved.

‘I have never seen anything like this, ever,’ Lord Coverdale remarked, ‘and I have seen a good many high-quality gems in my life.’

Amanda knew what he said was true; even she had heard of the famous Coverdale emeralds. ‘It has a name. When Mr Smallbody gave it to me, it was accompanied by a piece of paper with words written on it in a foreign language and script. He said he had no idea what it meant and had never tried to find out, but I knew someone who could. He told me it translated as The Light of the Sun.

Justin was about to speak when a light tap was heard on the door. He stuffed the jewel into his pocket before saying, ‘Come in.’

The butler entered. ‘M’lord, her ladyship has asked me to say that a light nuncheon has been laid out in the small dining room, should you wish to partake.’

‘Thank you, Clarkson, you may take the coffee tray, and that will be all.’ The moment the servant withdrew, the marquis pulled the jewel out of his pocket and handed it back to Amanda. ‘You must know I have a lot of questions.’

Resuming her seat and placing the diamond on the small table situated between them, she said, ‘Yes, please ask them. I will answer if I can.’

‘First and foremost,’ the marquis began, resuming his own seat, ‘why are you wearing a king’s ransom round your neck? Surely that is very dangerous?’

‘It’s certainly very uncomfortable.’ She smiled. ‘I haven’t been able to take it off for three days, but as for danger, I couldn’t think of a safer place.’

Or a more desirable one, Justin thought, then pushing the thought away, he said, ‘Surely some sort of safe …?’

‘Yes, we do have one at the Court, but I couldn’t leave it there when I was going to be away for several months. You see, it was in Mr Smallbody’ s care until just before Christmas, when, at one of our monthly meetings, he took it out of a secret drawer in his desk, explaining that he was no longer the person to be in charge of it, as ill health was forcing him to retire. So, there was I, obliged to be its keeper.’ She glanced at the jewel, and it seemed to her to glower back at her, menacingly.

‘Yes,’ Justin replied, ‘I can see that makes some sort of sense.’ He was not accustomed to many women of his acquaintance making sense. ‘My second question is, how did it come into the family’s possession in the first place?’

‘The short answer to that is, I don’t know, and neither does Mr Smallbody. But I do know some facts from which deductions can be made.’

‘Tell me; the nuncheon can wait. I can’t.’ The Marquis leant forward and touched the diamond with the tip of his forefinger. ‘What tales you could tell, if you could only speak. Sorry, Mrs Fletcher, please continue.’

‘Sir Percy was a second son and, at a young age, joined the Honourable East India Company and went out there to make his fortune …’

‘Which it seems he did,’ interrupted the marquis. ‘Sorry—’

‘…While there,’ Amanda went on, ‘he made the acquaintance of my husband, then newly ordained, and who, without a curacy or living, was some sort of chaplain to the HEIC. Agnew was obliged to leave India after only a short time, due to ill health, but later, when he came to the cathedral, he renewed his friendship with Sir Percy, who by then had unexpectedly inherited the estate, and the title, on the death of his brother. That is all I really know. Sir Percy died in 1810, the year after I married Agnew.’

‘Hmm,’ Justin reflected,‘not much to go on, but at least it explains how this,’ he indicated the jewel, ‘got to England. Now I must ask my third question, although I expect I already know the answer. You want me to keep the thing safe, do you not?’

Amanda took a deep breath. ‘In a word, yes.’

‘Well, I will, and I think I know just the hiding place for it.’ He stood up, went over to one of the book-cases, and stretched up, tall enough, without recourse to the library steps, to run his finger along the second-to-top shelf. He plucked a thick, leather-covered volume from the shelf and brought it over to Amanda. ‘Take a look.’

She read the title on the spine, Reflections on the Human Condition, and raised questioning eyebrows.

‘Inside.’

The first pages of text looked normal, then she saw that most of the centre of the book had been cut away, making a space about three inches square.

‘Your king’s ransom will be quite safe in there, I think.’ Justin picked up the jewel and handed it to her. He was right; with its ribbon coiled round, it fitted snugly into the box-like space. She closed the book. The marquis returned it to the shelf.

‘Now, I hope that relieves your mind, Mrs Fletcher. No one will ever look for it there, and anyway,’ he added, ‘hardly anyone uses this room, except me.’ The thanks he was expecting were not forthcoming. It was his lordship’s turn to sigh. ‘I suppose from your silence I can deduce that I have not satisfied you,’ he said with a slight edge to his voice. ‘Is there something else you’re not telling me?’

‘I … I fear there may be danger connected to the diamond. The last thing I want is to bring it to your mother’s house.’

‘Danger? How could that be? Only you and I know where it is, and the only other person who knows of its existence is your Mr Smallbody. Those two upstairs don’t know, do they?’

‘No, they do not, but someone does.’ She drew a small piece of paper from a pocket concealed in the folds of her dress, and handed it to the marquis.

He unfolded the note and read the few words written there: ‘Sir Piers Abbot, The Light of the Sun is not legally yours. It should be returned to its rightful owner.’ The writing was as clear as the statement.

‘Whew!’ exclaimed the marquis. ‘Who sent you this?’

‘I’ve no idea, but it isn’t the first one. I received, or rather, one came just before Christmas, but that one was addressed to Mr Percy Abbot, and the one in your hand, just a few days ago. Both were slipped under the front door at the Court, but no one was seen doing so. And fortunately, they fell into my hands before either Piers or Rosalie could see them.’

‘Well, Mrs Fletcher, you are quite right; the jewel should not remain in this house. I will take it upon myself to keep it safe, I promise you.’

‘I don’t know how to thank—’

‘Then don’t. I think it’s time you went to partake of that cold nuncheon that awaits you.

‘You are not coming?’

‘No, I want to think about all you have told me and decide how best to go on.’ He opened the door for her. ‘You’ll find a footman to show you the way to the small dining room. My mother has an abundance of them. She can never remember their names, so calls them either James or Alfred.’ He called over one of the two who were standing in the hall. ‘Show Mrs Fletcher to the small dining room.’

‘Yes, M’lord. ; at once, M’lord.’

To the other footman, whose light-brown complexion was a contrast to his pristine powdered wig, he said, ‘Tell them to bring my horse round,’ and added, ‘What is your name?’

‘Henry, M’lord…but her ladyship usually calls me James.’

Justin smiled.

CHAPTER 3

I t was three days before Amanda saw the marquis again, and apart from the relief of no longer having to carry the diamond around, her mind was occupied with all the plans that Lady Coverdale had been initiating for Rosalie’s entry into polite society. Her ladyship’s own modiste was summoned to assess her god-daughter’s wardrobe, which she considered quite inadequate for a London season, and Madame Celeste was delighted to have a lovely young lady to clothe in the latest fashion. Amanda was very firm that the dresses should be of the finest quality, but of a style and material proper for a girl of Rosalie’s age.

Rosalie, herself, was delighted at first at the thought of a new wardrobe, but soon got bored with standing on a stool and being tugged and pinned into half-made clothes.

The spring weather had turned fickle, with heavy showers, but on a suitably warm afternoon, Lady Coverdale decided to take a carriage ride in Hyde Park.

‘Amanda, my dear, please be ready to leave at four o’clock. The fashionable world will be there then, and it is an ideal opportunity to make them aware of my protégée, and generate invitations to the season’s events. Rosalie is a very pretty, well-behaved girl; I know she will take.’

Soon after their arrival, she discussed Rosalie’s debut with Amanda. ‘The season has barely begun,’ she said, ‘and I believe it would be best to introduce your ward quietly at first, simple dinners with a little dancing, or music afterwards, and perhaps games of lottery tickets with other young people. Do you not agree?’

Amanda felt she had to agree, no matter what was proposed, but she was delighted with the marchioness’s suggestion. ‘I believe Rosalie would much prefer to be introduced in that way. She is a confident girl, and quick to learn, but inexperienced in the ways of polite society.’

‘I find her very prettily mannered, and of course her antecedents are impeccable,’ Lady Coverdale said, smiling. ‘I believe society will take to her very quickly.’

‘If I may make a suggestion, Lady Coverdale, Rosalie was at Mrs Pritchett’s Academy for Young Ladies, in Bath, with a Lady Sophia Carstairs, and they became great friends; they’ve corresponded since leaving the establishment, and I know the family is in town. Would it be possible for them—?’

‘Of course, my dear, I know Lady Carstairs quite well. I will call.’

Amanda smiled. One thing she knew for certain: with a marchioness for a sponsor, every door in the polite world would be opened wide. But there was still one worry, if Rosalie was set to become a successful debutante. She could not say the same for Piers. He spent most of his time in the billiard room, appeared for meals on time, played piquet or backgammon with Rosalie or Amanda in the evening, but there