Yesterday's Promise by Linda Lee Chaikin Read Free Book Online Page A

Rogan hefted his bag overhis shoulder, grabbed his hat, and bolted from the cramped cabin, heading topside to the deck.
    His booted feet took the steps with the same confident ring that drove him forward toward his desired destiny.
    On the deck, he set his bag down and stood feet apart, one strong hand bracing himself against the rail. Even at dockside, the wind blew in from the sea, but now the salt air mingled with the enticing fragrance of a strange new land. His shirt, partially opened over his bronzed chest, tossed as freely as the new liberty pulsing through his veins. The adventurous wind, like a woman’s seductive fingers in his dark wavy hair, was welcoming him, drawing him, toward an uncertain future.

    Table Mountain dominated the view, with the mountain range forming a half circle around Capetown, Devil’s Peak and Lion’s Head on either side. Rogan could see Capetown spread around Lion’s Head with some red-roofed, white mansions and smaller bungalows, which clustered near the bay.
    The sky was clear as he walked down the ramp to the dock, which teemed with workers awaiting the ship’s cargo. A fiery hue touched with gold colored Devil’s Peak. Rising thirty-five hundred feet, Table Mountain was unveiled, showing off its glory, its huge mass close enough for him to see the clefts and ravines. Its long flat top stretched behind Capetown, with the blue sky above like a canopy.
    Rogan strode along the crowded dock with his heavy bag over his shoulder, taking in everything he could see. Barrels and crates were stacked everywhere as they were hauled from ship to shore on the sweating backs of both Europeans and Africans. The Bantu workers wore short knee pants, their backs bare. One-horse taxis and private coaches jostled for space to greet the disembarking passengers.
    Rogan stopped on the wharf to survey the vehicles waiting for passengers. To his surprise, he saw Arcilla seated in an open carriageattended by two Bantu. She was smiling and waving for his attention. One of the serving boys ran over and relieved him of his baggage.
    Should he be surprised to see his sister? His father or Aunt Elosia must have wired Cape House about the ship he was on. Then Julien must know he was here. Rogan set his jaw. He wasn’t ready to meet Julien yet. He wanted to go alone to Kimberly to locate Derwent, who had written him from there. Parnell was at Kimberly too, working at the Company office.
    But he didn’t see Julien or Arcilla’s husband, Peter. She was alone, and a pretty picture she was in a lacy pink hat and white blouse with puffed sleeves. He walked toward her carriage, with the Bantu following, carrying his baggage.

    Arcilla Chantry Bartley recognized the forceful young man standing at the ship’s rail even before the unloading ramp had been secured in place. She smiled with sisterly pride over his handsome, rugged appearance. The confident line of his tanned jaw revealed a hardness of purpose she knew well from their growing-up years at Rookswood. His dark hair curled slightly, and a thin mustache had been added since she’d seen him last, perhaps grown on his voyage to give the appearance of maturity when dealing with gold rands and diamond moguls who would be dogging his steps once they knew of his plans for an expedition to find gold. It also added a certain rakish charm that fit him well. She laughed, thinking of Evy Varley. As if Evy hadn’t fallen for her brother years ago. Evy hadn’t fooled her a bit, despite all her dignified ways and pretense and all that silly talk about marrying the vicar’s boy, Derwent Brown! Arcilla sighed. But how she missed Evy! If only she were here with her now. At least the vicar’s niece was a loyal friend, someone she could trust. Darinda Bley was a thorn in her side and she spent most of her time in Kimberly helping her grandfather, Julien Bley, with the diamond business. The other married women, whose husbands worked