CHAPTER TWELVE
‘Leonard?’ I stared at Dante in disbelief.
That lovely, funny, kind, good-tempered man was related to him?
It was hard to believe.
‘Leonard is your uncle?’
‘Well, he’s actually my great-uncle. But anyway, what the hell do you think you’re doing, stealing things from him?’
‘What? No, of course I haven’t stolen from him!’
He sneered. ‘Maybe not. But you’ve obviously managed to trick him into parting with that box of historical papers and trinkets, which in my mind is just as bad.’
‘I haven’t tricked him into anything.’ I stared at him, feeling an angry flush sweep into my cheeks.
‘Leonard gave me that box. He knew I was interested in history because we’d talked together when I took him to the surgery to get a doctor’s appointment.
He said he wanted me to look through the things inside it to see if there was anything of historical interest. I definitely did not steal it from him or trick him into parting with it! ’
The steel in his glare told me he wasn’t quite sure if he should believe me.
‘So where is it? The box?’ he demanded.
‘Well, it’s . . .’ I tailed off.
Leonard had said I could have the box. Not that I would have kept it.
It was too precious. I’d been going to ask Leonard if I could hold onto it for one more day, but if I told Dante I had it here, he’d likely demand to have it back and I’d never be able to discover what Charlotte had written in the rest of the diary.
So I told him a fib and said, ‘Actually, it’s at home.
’ I shrugged. ‘But I’m bringing it back for your uncle tomorrow. ’
‘How do I know I can trust you?’ he barked.
‘Because I’m very trustworthy. You can ask any one of my colleagues here.’
He ran a hand distractedly through his hair. ‘Okay. I believe you. It’s just with my uncle having been the victim of that bloody scammer so recently, I’m suspicious of anyone I don’t really know.’
I nodded, sort of understanding his reaction after hearing what had happened to his lovely Uncle Leonard.
‘And apart from that,’ he added, ‘I’d like to look through the box myself. Once you’ve brought it back for my uncle, that is.’ He was looking apologetic now and I felt myself soften a little. He had a right to see it for himself. It was Leonard’s box and Dante was family.
I hesitated. Then I said, ‘There’s actually a diary in the box and I was going to read it tonight after my shift.’
He nodded. ‘Fine.’
‘But I guess the box belongs to your family, so if you want it now, I could give it to you.’
‘Now?’
I sighed. ‘On one condition.’
‘What’s that?’
‘That you let me read the diary once you’ve had a look through the box yourself?’
‘Agreed,’ he said shortly.
‘Okay, well, in that case, I’ll just go and get it for you, Dante.’
He frowned. ‘You have the box here?’
‘I do,’ I said quietly, and I went back into the kitchen.
‘Thank you,’ he said gruffly, when I handed it over. ‘And my name is Dan. I can’t stand people calling me “Dante”.’
‘Oh. Okay.’
‘You can have this back tomorrow.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise.’ And he walked out of the café.
*****
Next day, I was on an early shift, and just as I was finishing up, Leonard arrived.
‘I hear my great-nephew took the box to have a look at it?’ He smiled. ‘I’ve just spoken to him and he assures me you can have it back when he’s finished.’
‘That would be great.’ I explained about the diary and he nodded.
‘He read through the whole thing last night and he sounded quite excited when I spoke to him. He told me he’d found something very intriguing in it.’
‘He did?’ My heart started beating a little faster. ‘What was it?’
Leonard frowned. ‘I wish I could remember.’ Then his face lit up. ‘I know! It was all to do with a particular village – in Hampshire of all places. He seemed to think it was significant somehow.’
‘Oh, my goodness. Which village was it?’
‘It was . . . oh, dear, my memory is definitely not what it used to be. Ah, yes.’ He smiled. ‘Was it Chawston? Or Chorrington? Something like that.’
My heart gave a giant leap. ‘Chawton? Was it Chawton?’
‘Why, yes, I do believe it was.’
Now my heart was really racing. Was it possible that Charlotte had lived in the same village as my heroine, Jane Austen?
Leonard looked at his watch. ‘I hope he manages to catch his train,’ he murmured.
‘His train?’
He looked up and smiled at me. ‘Yes, he’s off to Hampshire. To that place Chawton, I believe.’
‘He is?’
‘He feels he might be on the brink of an important discovery. But don’t worry, Lizzie. I’ll make sure you get to read the diary for yourself when he returns.’
‘Thanks, Leonard. I’d really appreciate that. Erm . . . which train was he getting?’
‘Oh, the 12.15 from Sunnybrook I think he said.’
‘Right. I’d better dash just now. See you soon, Leonard. And thanks!’
I grabbed my coat and bag from the kitchen, said a quick goodbye to Ellie and hurried out to my car.
I had fifteen minutes to drive to Sunnybrook station and get myself a ticket to Hampshire.
Because there was no way that annoying man was going to discover any secrets about Charlotte before me!