‘She was in for it now. ‘It’s my cousin Vasco. He has asked me to marry him and is waiting for my answer. I wanted to talk to you about it, Gair, because of the Sons of the Star. You see, I would have to tell him …’
‘Vasco de Mascarenhas?’ This white calm masked seething rage. ‘Now I know you are out of your mind. You can’t possibly be thinking of marrying him. A bastard who has spent a fortune on forged documents to prove his legitimacy? And a fortune, mind you, of most suspicious origin. I wanted to spare you this, Juana, since he’s a member of your family, even if on the wrong side of the blanket. It never in my wildest dreams occurred to me that you could be such a fool as to let him pull the wool over your eyes. Naturally, I had him investigated as soon as I saw how he was dangling after you – and a very unconvincing job he made of it, I may say. You don’t for a minute deceive yourself, do you, that it is for your beaux yeux he has been courting you? If only there were time, I would be glad for you to have one more meeting with him, so you could see how he changes his tune once he knows you are giving away the castle. Frankly, Juana, it’s the first time I have ever thought you stupid, but I suppose there are none so blind as those who will not see.’
‘Thank you! I suppose you think I should be an expert, by now, in pseudo-courtships.’ She dug her heels into Sheba’s side. ‘Tell your sister she can keep her charity,’ she threw back at him over her shoulder. ‘I shall stay in Portugal with my family.’
‘Juana—’ He thundered up beside her as she rode through the cluster of peasant houses. ‘Listen to me. I’m sorry: I’ve been a fool; I lost my temper; I’ve done it all wrong. Juana, please—’
She was crying, and would not let him see it. She forced Sheba to the edge of the road so that, sitting side-saddle, she could keep her back to him. If Vasco had been there just then, she would have accepted him.
In fact, he rode into the castle courtyard a little later, with the friar from Sintra, and sent Jaime to Juana with the request that she see him at once, alone.
Juana had never felt so completely at a loss. Jaime had delivered the message to her in the Ladies’ Parlour where the entire party had assembled before moving into the dining room. ‘I’ve put him in your study, senhora.’ Jaime evidently expected her to see Vasco.
‘But it’s dinner time.’ She was making excuses again.
‘Dinner can wait,’ said Miguel. ‘You owe it to Senhor de Mascarenhas at least to see him, Juana.’
She knew it was true, but still hedged. ‘Surely, after dinner …’
‘Don’t see him at all,’ said Gair Varlow. ‘Remember what I said to you, Juana.’
‘I certainly do.’ She had not spoken to him since they had returned to the castle. ‘Tell my cousin I will see him at once, Jaime. And ask the cook to hold back dinner.’ She managed to get out of the room on her wave of anger, without meeting Gair’s eyes.
Since the room she now used as her study was merely down two steps and along a short passage from the Ladies’ Parlour, she had little time to compose her thoughts for the meeting with Vasco. ‘Cousin, I’m glad to see you.’ She heard Jaime close the heavy door behind her and noticed with a little stab, surely, of fear, how completely it cut off the sound of voices from the room beyond.
‘Juana!’ For once, Vasco was formally dressed in dark coat and foaming lace cravat. ‘He’s dressed for his wedding,’ she thought, as he made a long business of kissing her hand. As always, his touch sent a thrill of fire through her. A bastard, Gair had said. That was not important, but something else was. A bastard who had spent a fortune on forged papers. Why should Gair have made that up?
‘Juana,’ Vasco said again. ‘Have you nothing to say to me?’ He still held her hand and led her to the seat behind her desk. Seating her, he stood over her, his hand on her shoulder.
It was disconcerting to have lost the advantage of height. She looked up at him. ‘Cousin, I’m sorry I’ve taken so long—’
‘You’re driving me mad,’ he interrupted her. ‘But no matter, so long as the answer is right at last. That friar told me he is to marry your sisters this afternoon. What could be more suitable than that you and I should join them? Juana!’
She was still hearing Gair’s voice: ‘A fortune, mind you, of most suspicious origin.’ What had Gair to gain by lying to her? ‘I don’t know—’ She looked up at Vasco pleadingly. ‘I don’t really know you, cousin.’
‘Not know me!’ For a moment she had been afraid that he would explode, as he had done once before, into rage, but his tone was quiet. ‘It’s true, of course.’ he surprised her by saying. ‘I know that in England you go a different way about marriage. But this is Portugal, and time is short. Your cousins are marrying your sisters, this afternoon, to give them the protection of a Portuguese name. Let me do the same for you, my love, and I promise you, that’s all I will ask. I, too, will ride away, when evening comes, as they must, and wait for the day when you will send for me and make me the happiest of men, Juana! Say yes, or, better still, say nothing, let me take your answer from your lips.’
Somehow, despite herself, she managed to turn her head away. ‘But the castle—’ she said.
The castle?’
‘I have to tell you, before we decide anything. I’m giving it to my cousins.’
‘Oh, that,’ he shrugged. ‘There’ll be time enough to think of that when you are safe from the French. Marry me today, Juana, and leave the burden of all this decision to me. I tell you, my darling, I know much better than you what is right for you.’
‘Do you?’ She longed to be convinced.
‘Of course I do.’ Now, at last, he swept her into his embrace. She was drowning, suffocating, helpless in his arms.
Then, suddenly, without decision, without thought even, she had pulled away, was across the room from him, breathing hard, staring at him. ‘You’re just hurting me,’ she said. ‘It’s not true. Not a word of it.’ And left him.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘You refused him, thank God.’ Vasco had left at once, the strange weddings were over and Gair and Juana were alone on the seaward terrace.
‘Yes. But not because of your tale-bearing.’ A lie? She supposed so. If Gair had not alerted her, would she have recognised the brute force Vasco had tried to disguise as passion? But then, turn it the other way out: had Gair’s warning perhaps made her unnecessarily suspicious? Had she misunderstood Vasco as hopelessly as, once before, she had Gair himself? Who was she to think she could tell real from pretended passion? Had she sent away the only man who really loved her? At the time, her reaction had been automatic. She had been stifling, frightened … But had she been right?
Gair had turned away to gaze out across the cliff to the tossing white sea beyond. ‘I’m sorry.’ When he turned back to her, a flush along his cheekbones betrayed how hard her remark had hit him. ‘You think me a poor creature, don’t you?’
‘I think you what you are. A secret agent.’
‘A spy. But thank you for using the kinder phrase. It’s more than I deserve. Juana, I’ve learned a great deal this last year. I know now that what I have done to you is unforgivable.’
‘Oh?’ Now it was her turn to lean her elbows on the terrace wall and gaze blindly out to sea.
‘I brought you here, last year, for my own ends. You’ve served them admirably. Your country owes you a great deal, Juana; both your countries. But I never thought what was going to happen to you. You do see now, don’t you, that if the French take Lisbon, it’s not safe for you to be here?’
‘Yes.’
‘Even if you had married that cousin of yours, you’d not have been safe. Only Mrs. Brett knows how many people are aware of the connection between the castle and the Sons of the Star, and she can’t tell us. Juana, please, let me arrange your passage on tomorrow’s packet.’
‘So I can go back to England to act as companion to Lady Forland? Penniless, because as you yourself have pointed out, I shan’t be able to draw my income from here. It’s not an inspiring prospe
ct, is it?’
‘That’s what I’m saying. That’s why I can’t forgive myself. I’ve used you, Juana, and done you nothing but harm.’
Now, surprisingly, she was sorry for him. ‘Oh, no,’ she said, ‘it’s not so bad as that. I’ve enjoyed my year here; I’ve learned a great deal. I’ve changed. Being a spy is a very educational occupation. I’ll make an admirable companion for your sister – I shan’t even stammer, much, thanks to what I’ve learned this year.’
He glowed with relief. ‘You’ll really go to Vanessa? I may arrange your passage on the packet? Thank God.’
‘Poor Mr. Varlow, have I weighed so heavily on your mind?’ She picked up a stone from the terrace walk and threw it with all her strength out toward where foam rose high as the cliff. ‘And, no, I’m afraid you can’t be quit of me so easily as that. You see, I can’t leave Portugal until I have signed the papers handing over the castle to my cousins. It’s no use getting me passage on the packet until I have seen Senhor Gonçalves.’ For though the priest had arrived, there was still no sign of the lawyer.
‘Or some other lawyer?’
‘I doubt if that would do. Gonçalves holds my grandmother’s will.’
‘But it’s not safe for you to stay.’
‘You’re staying, aren’t you?’
‘For the time being. But the English squadron will arrive any day now. They will take Lord Strangford’s household off.’
‘Well, then, if Senhor Gonçalves doesn’t arrive in time, the squadron will just have to take me too. I’m sorry if it’s awkward for you, but you must see it’s your responsibility. If you hadn’t brought me here, my grandmother would never have changed her will: the problem would not have arisen. Since it has, I look on it as your affair.’
‘But at least you’ll come?’
‘I don’t see that I’ll have any alternative. Thanks to you, I’ve infuriated my cousin. He’ll be no support. Who else could I turn to?’
‘Not your uncles, that’s certain. Nor, probably, your other cousins. But, Juana, about de Mascarenhas; please, believe me: believe I acted for the best.’
‘Whose best, I wonder? But it’s time we went in.’
‘Not quite yet.’ He stood between her and the entrance to the castle, pale and quiet, an extraordinary contrast to Vasco de Mascarenhas. ‘Juana, listen to me for a few minutes more. I told you I had heard from Vanessa. It’s true, what I said, that she’d be delighted to have you with her, on any terms. But there was more. Forland must be very ill. He’s setting his house in order. He’s promised her one of his boroughs – for me.’
‘You mean – a seat in Parliament?’
‘Yes. At last. It’s what I’ve always wanted. But when Forland first married Vanessa he would do nothing for me. Well, why should he? But now, everything’s changed. Vanessa says she thinks someone must have spoken to him: one of the new Government. He told her to write me, to say the seat was mine when it fell vacant (which should be soon) and with no strings.’
‘No strings? You mean, to vote as you please?’
‘Yes. It’s the most extraordinary thing anyone has ever done for me. A safe seat, given to me (a Whig) without obligation, by a Tory. And the odd thing is – I’ve said this to no one – but I think, in fact, I shall vote Tory, at least until this war is over. But that’s not what I wanted to say to you.’ He had seen her quick, anxious glance back at the castle. ‘Juana, do you realise what this means? I’ve my foot on the ladder at last. Give me a seat in the House and I promise you sooner or later, I’ll be my own man, on my feet, hiding from no one, beholden to no one. No more “tale-bearing” then, Juana.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She wished she had not said it.
‘Don’t be. I’d do more than carry tales if it would help to save you from Vasco de Mascarenhas. Juana, I beg of you, most earnestly, don’t change your mind; don’t think of trusting him.’
‘He’s my cousin.’ She was angry all over again.
‘And I’m nothing. I’m the man who has made such a botch of your life for you. But, Juana, at last I begin to think I may have a future. If I have, will you share it with me?’
She looked at him for a moment, silently, then swallowed a bitter mouthful of rage and spoke: ‘Do you think things are as bad as that, Mr. Varlow? That, once more, the only way to keep me in line is to offer marriage? Not that you even did so last time, did you? A hint was enough then, was it not? Well, I tell you, I don’t fool so easily these days. Had you not best go down on your knees and make me a proposal in form? God knows you’ve had enough practice!’ And then, furious with herself, with him, with everything: ‘Don’t waste your time here, Mr. Varlow. Had you not better get back to your spying?’
‘But, Juana—’
‘Don’t.’ She was tempted to leave him there and then, but thought better of it. ‘We have to go on working together till this is over; please don’t make it any more difficult for me than it already is. Let us pretend that the last few minutes never happened. So – how shall I let you know if Senhor Gonçalves arrives and I am free to leave on the packet?’
‘Simply write to me and ask for a passage. There can be no harm in that. But, Juana, please—’
‘No.’ She moved toward the castle door. ‘Time enough when my passage is arranged to show you the way down the winding stair. But do you know I have the strangest feeling that Senhor Gonçalves is not going to appear.’
The slow days were to prove her right. An apologetic note from the lawyer arrived two days later. He had been out of town on urgent business; had only just received their summons; was still unable to come for a few days. His messenger brought news, as well as his note. The last Falmouth packet had sailed that day.
So that was that. Juana had said nothing to her family about going back to England. It would be impossibly difficult to explain the decision without reference to the Sons of the Star. Much easier to say nothing until the moment came to leave. Now, apparently, she was committed to waiting for the British squadron. There was nothing to be said, nothing to be done. Gair Varlow must know that the packet had sailed without her. It was up to him now.
A few days later came the news that Dom John had signed the decree closing Portuguese ports to English shipping. Still, incredibly, the fact that the French army of invasion had actually marched had not been made public. Nor had there been any word from Pedro or Roberto, who had ridden away, reluctantly, on their wedding night.
‘Pedro’s in Spain, of course,’ said Daisy.
‘And Roberto warned me he wouldn’t write, because it was not safe,’ explained Teresa.
They were taking their strange marriages admirably, Juana thought, liking them better than ever. It encouraged her to suggest that they begin to help both with the care of Mrs. Brett and the running of the estate. ‘You never know,’ she said vaguely.
‘Of course we’ll help,’ said Daisy.
‘We didn’t like to seem pushing.’ said Teresa.
Old Mrs. Brett was beyond noticing who sat with her now, and Manuela and Estella were hardly up to the responsibility. It was a relief to install sensible Daisy and calm Teresa in the sickroom in their stead. The doctor came every few days and said, always, the same thing: ‘It’s only a matter of time.’
Juana felt guilty because she did not feel more. She and her grandmother had been partners; she owed her a great deal; she ought to mind, and found she did not. She did her best to make up for it by devoted attention, until Daisy and Teresa protested, insisting that they do their share.
They were right, she thought. They must begin to learn her duties in the castle. And, soon, she must warn them that she would be leaving (she hoped she would be leaving) when the English squadron arrived.
But nothing happened. She now sent a man into Lisbon every day for news. And there was no news. Trade was at a standstill; the English had all gone save Lord Strangford’s people; Lisbon was full of rumours and nothing else. Dom John remained at Mafra, and the army on the coast, as if the only
enemy must be expected from there. Even the Portuguese fleet, in Lisbon harbour, shared the general inertia. When the French ultimatum had been received, back in August, they had taken on stores for a possible voyage to the Brazils. They had done nothing since.
‘Half their provisions must be mouldy by now,’ said Daisy. Since she and Teresa had become Portuguese by marriage they had begun to take a lively interest in the news.
‘I’m glad I shan’t have to make the voyage,’ said Teresa.
‘You don’t think Roberto might have to go with Dom John?’ Juana had wondered about this.
‘He said he wouldn’t,’ said Teresa.
Juana was both surprised and relieved. It had been a strange enough business, that double wedding, and seemed stranger still in retrospect. ‘I wish Senhor Gonçalves would come,’ she said now.
It was two weeks since the day of the double wedding and still the lawyer sent merely apologies. The trouble was, Juana thought, that without referring to her danger from the Sons of the Star it was impossible to make him see how urgent her business was. Quite understandably, he delayed in Lisbon, seeing to the selling up of estates for his many other English clients. Like everyone else, he must assume that she was committed to life at the Castle on the Rock. That there was no hurry …
More and more, she wished that she had not parted from Gair Varlow in anger. However enraged by his insulting proposal, she should not have let herself forget that he was, simply, her only hope. Not that she need be frightened of the Sons of the Star yet. There was no reason, so far, for them to suspect her. But she was frightened, just the same. She made a point of never leaving the castle alone and preferred to have company even on the terrace or loggia. It was impossible not to remember what had happened to Tomas – and to Father Ignatius? No word had ever come from the priest and in her heart she was convinced that he had been the Brother of the Lion who had been so ruthlessly executed at the July meeting of the Sons of the Star. If they did discover how she had been betraying them, she would be lucky to suffer so quick a punishment.
The Winding Stair Page 29
