The Diamond Hunter by Fiona McIntosh

Author:Fiona McIntosh [McIntosh, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780143787808
Publisher: Penguin Random House Australia
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

17

Clementine led Will onto to the footbridge that spanned the small but fast-flowing stream cutting through the valley overlooked by Woodingdene.

‘My father finished building this just before we left England.’

She watched him place his large hands on the wire rail. ‘It’s so elegant,’ he declared. He shook his head, clearly impressed. ‘It’s like spun sugar it’s so light.’

This pleased her inordinately, although she couldn’t explain why it meant so much coming from her guest. ‘Thank you. Memories of my father come in fleeting spurts but what I know of this bridge I have learned from others.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘Oh, I don’t want to bore you, Will.’

‘No chance of that. I like listening to you speak.’

She wasn’t ready for such directness but in truth she liked it. Clementine gave him a smile that was neither shy nor flirtatious but she left him in no doubt that she was enjoying his company. ‘Beneath us runs this brook, which is known as a burn in this part of the world. Most people think the bridge is iron, but it’s made of steel. I think it may have been the first of its kind in the country. I like to think so, anyway.’ She grinned. ‘In his time it was all about iron lacework and the like. Using steel means it’s lighter and that’s how he was able to get this almost fairylike construction, as though it just sits in the air, as you beautifully noted. My father claimed that the airy structure and the delicate parapets symbolised my mother.’ She pointed and he leaned in to follow her line of sight. ‘If you look over there, you will see initials cleverly picked out in the metal.’ She waited for him to make it out.

‘I see L and I see J.’

She nodded, satisfied. ‘You only properly see it when it’s pointed out, otherwise it appears as a pretty piece of decoration.’

‘I see a C too, if I’m not mistaken. Is that for you?’

Clementine smiled. ‘I had just been born. Everyone was so happy, my grandmother said. The whole family was in love with each other because of my arrival.’ Her tone sounded ironic.

‘Because the Grant family had an heir?’

‘Another one, anyway,’ she said in reply. ‘Everyone hated my father, you see. He didn’t fit their idea of who Louisa Grant should marry. But I admire my parents hugely for not bowing to the pressure. I gather the feelings of goodwill at the time of my birth were simply about the next generation. It thrilled my grandfather, or so the story goes, and so he didn’t mind paying for the bridge, which was good news given that my father was about to ask my mother to leave England with him. You know the rest, I imagine – defiant, proud, dashing . . . both of them.’

‘James Knight sounds like a dreamer.’

‘Yes, I think you’re right. I believe he was deeply romantic. Apart from the initials, he made sure the main span of the footbridge was 64 feet.

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