The Shadowcutter

by Harriet Smart

  A long moment passed and Giles had reached a strange conclusion, which at the same time seemed completely correct. Then suddenly, throwing her arms in the air, Dona Blanca exclaimed, “I did not abandon you, Felix! I gave you to him!”

  She waved her arms a little and brought her hands to rest on his shoulders, but only for a moment. She pulled them away again as from a hot surface.

  “Are you saying... are you saying...” Carswell said, catching her hands.

  “I should not have said anything!” she said, wresting her hands free of his grip. “It does no good to anyone, least of all you! Forgive me!” she said, and this time she walked a fair distance down the path, with Carswell going after her.

  “Are you saying –” Carswell began, but she was shaking her head furiously. “But, but –”

  Giles glanced to his side and saw that Lord Rothborough was strolling along the path, in the company of the man he had seen at the dog fight, who was presumably Don Luiz. Giles remembered then Lord Rothborough’s intention to call on the government in exile.

  “Ma’am, Carswell,” he said. “Lord Rothborough –”

  He did not need to say any more, for in the same moment they both saw him.

  “Don Luiz knows nothing of any of this,” she said, reaching for her handkerchief and wiping her face. “And I do not wish him to know.”

  She began to walk briskly in the other direction. Carswell was about to follow, but Giles caught his arm.

  “Let her compose herself,” Giles said.

  “Did you hear what she said?” Carswell asked. Giles nodded. “What am I to do?”

  “Keep your counsel for the moment, if you can bear it. This is not the time or the place. She is not ready. Consider what she must be feeling.”

  “Do you think she is my mother?”

  “I think so,” Giles said. “And you must respect her secrets, hard though that is going to be.” Carswell nodded and swallowed hard. “You will get to the truth sooner or later.” Carswell nodded again. “In the meantime, distract yourself with this – did you notice Dona Clara’s bracelet?”

  “What? No.”

  “That’s a pity. I want a second look at it. It looked familiar to me.”

  Their conversation went no further. Lord Rothborough and Don Luiz had arrived.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Felix was not quite sure how he got through the next ten minutes of useless small talk, of the sort he detested at the best of times.

  But Major Vernon was right. She was entitled to her secrets. He could not go after her, no matter how many questions he wished to ask.

  It began to rain, and mercifully all further conversation was at an end. Don Luiz went in to join his wife and children, while Felix, Major Vernon and Lord Rothborough hurried through the gardens to the entrance of the hotel.

  “Let’s go to the White Hart,” said Lord Rothborough. “We can have a decent lunch and then go back to Holbroke.”

  The White Hart was only a few yards from the Queen’s Hotel, so they did not repeat yesterday’s drenching. It was cool and discreet, and had a great deal of old-fashioned grandeur about it. Lord Rothborough was its owner and was greeted with more than the usual deference. They were shown into a blue-painted parlour, and a lunch suitable for princes was swiftly brought in.

  Felix did not feel much like eating, appetising though it looked. He toyed with a piece of bread while Major Vernon and Lord Rothborough discussed the morning’s business.

  “The reason I called on Don Luiz this morning was that I got a letter,” Lord Rothborough said, “from a reliable source of mine in Paris. He informs me that it is likely that Don Luiz is planning to return to the island sooner rather than later. The rebel government is crumbling fast. It is full of factions.”

  “And no doubt, Don Luiz has his agents on the ground whipping up quarrels between them,” said Major Vernon.

  “No doubt. How cynical you are, sir,” said Lord Rothborough, with a smile.

  “I think he is probably a ruthless operator.”

  “Certainly he is. My source did wonder what brought them here, though. Surely not just to take the waters. Apparently Dona Blanca was keen to do so, and he must fall in with his political trump card, I suppose. I am rather disappointed not to have met her. You spoke to her, did you not, Felix?”

  “Briefly,” he managed to say.

  “And what was your impression?”

  “She was Irish,” he said. It was the best he could manage in the circumstances.

  Mercifully Major Vernon, interjected: “My lord, how important is it to the Government that Don Luiz’s party is back in power in Santa Magdalena?”

  “We have interests there, as I said, but it does not matter much who is in power, so long as they will do business with us. Why?”

  “I think I may have to arrest him for buying stolen goods.”

  “Good grief.”

  “When you kissed Dona Clara’s hand, did you see she was wearing a rather opulent bracelet?”

  “Yes, I did notice that. Rather surprising, with her mourning. And now that I think of it, it did seem familiar.”

  “I think there is a good chance that is the missing bracelet from your parure, my Lord,” said Major Vernon. “That pattern is quite distinctive. And she is a bird of paradise sort of woman. Even in mourning, she cannot resist wearing the new trinket that her husband has given her.”

  “That he got from Edgar at the dog fight?” said Felix.

  “That is my theory at the moment, yes,” said Major Vernon.

  “Which he got from Eliza Jones,” said Felix.

  “And he may well have killed her for it,” said Major Vernon. “It is a pity I cannot question a dead man. We shall have to contrive a way to get Dona Clara to surrender her bracelet.”

  “You will probably have to cut her hand off to do it,” said Lord Rothborough. “Some women are impossible about jewels. They seem to fall prey to them. They cannot resist their charms.”

  “Like men fall prey to whores,” Felix could not help saying.

  “Maybe so,” said Lord Rothborough, picking up the carving knife and slicing another piece of raised pie. “Are you going to eat anything more than that?”

  “I seem to have lost my appetite,” said Felix getting up and going to the window.

  “I wish you would eat, but at least that will leave you hungry for a good dinner at Ardenthwaite tonight,” said Lord Rothborough. “I sent a few more people over there from Holbroke, so you will be comfortable. From there you can join Major Vernon tomorrow and discreetly continue your investigations. Sir Arthur seems to be making a noose for poor Walter so you will have your work cut out, I fear.”

  “That works in our favour,” said Major Vernon. “Though it will not be pleasant for Walter, a scapegoat will perhaps lull the real culprit into a state of false security. It may lead someone to betray themselves.”

  “You think is someone at Holbroke?” said Lord Rothborough with a frown.

  “Yes, I fear it might be.”

  “No institution is perfect, of course – and what is a great household but a sort of institution?” Lord Rothborough said, sighing. “I should not be sentimental on that account, because it is such a dear place to me, and all the people in it are my people.”

  Major Vernon got up from the table, having glanced at his watch.

  “I am going to speak to the house agent,” he said. “Since you have been hospitable, in asking my wife and myself to stay, sir, I will give up the house here today.” Lord Rothborough inclined his head graciously. “We were only supposed to be there another week, after all. When this business at Holbroke is done, we will go straight back to Northminster and not impose on you any longer.”

  “It is no imposition at all. You must take your full furlough with us. Maria will not forgive me if I let you take Mrs Vernon away any earlier that is strictly necessary. The place agrees with her. Last night at dinner – well, you will not mind me saying this, I hope – she
was on sparkling form! And her playing – quite beautiful. ”

  Major Vernon took his leave and Felix was left alone with Lord Rothborough.

  “I’ve just remembered something,” Felix said, and went running from the room after Major Vernon. He chased him halfway down the stairs.

  “I think I should speak to him about Dona Blanca,” Felix said. “It seems only fair.”

  “Yes, perhaps,” said Major Vernon.

  “Perhaps?” said Felix.

  “I don’t know quite what I should say to you,” Major Vernon said. “I’m sorry. It is an extraordinary situation. But yes, perhaps you should warn him that she is here. It could be a great embarrassment for them both otherwise.”

  “That is what I thought,” Felix said, and went back.

  This was not true. Sparing Lord Rothborough humiliation had not crossed his mind. He was overflowing with questions and accusations. The subject was an immense one, like a great, stormy ocean which had to be navigated in a gravy boat.

  “What was that about?” said Lord Rothborough when he returned.

  Felix sat down at his place.

  “Dona Blanca,” he said, and reached for the glass of wine which he had not previously touched.

  “Ah yes,” Lord Rothborough smiled. “I had hoped to hear more on that subject. Major Vernon was tight-lipped. I wonder why.”

  “Because she is my mother,” Felix said, thinking there was nothing to be lost by being anything but blunt. “Or at least, she implied she was. Just before you arrived.”

  “Good God,” he said rather quietly. “What did she say?”

  “I told her I remembered her – which I do. The other day, when I saw her before Don Xavier was buried, we had the strangest passage together, and I thought I knew her,” Felix said. “And when I saw her again today, I was sure of it. I knew her in Paris. So I said so. And she was affected by my presence and she knew my name. The first time I saw her, and she heard my name, she reacted to it. It was impossible not to see that. And then today, when I said I was barely two when I left Paris, she said I was exactly two years and two weeks and when I asked if she had cared for me after my mother abandoned me, and she said she had not –”

  “What? Slow down, Felix.”

  “She said: ‘I did not abandon you. I gave you to him.’ What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know,” said Lord Rothborough.

  “You don’t know?” said Felix. “Of course you do! You were there. You said that she abandoned me, and she flatly denied it.”

  Lord Rothborough covered his eyes with his hand and murmured, “Dear God in Heaven.” He exhaled. “Irish, you said.”

  “Yes.”

  “Her name was Blanche Halloran. Blanca I suppose would be the Spanish form. She may have adopted it when she married Martinez. If this is she, of course.”

  “Why would she claim it, if she is not?”

  “To blackmail me, of course!” said Rothborough. “And, if she is who she says, there is still no end of trouble she could make if she is so inclined. She is very good at trouble, I can tell you that for nothing, Felix, before you allow yourself to be carried away on a tide of sentiment. She has come here to make mischief, there is no doubt of that. How else would she know who you were? She did not know to whom I intended to give you. She has found that out, the little schemer. An excellent tactician, a power behind the throne – well, it makes perfect sense! Blanche, oh God, Blanche!”

  He got up from the table and began to pace the room.

  “She was young and still utterly beautiful when we parted. There is no reason that she could not still have made a respectable marriage. She had an enterprising nature after all.” He shook his head. “Don Luiz even told me it was her idea that they came to Stanegate. He had never heard of the place! She arranged the whole thing to see you. We shall have to be careful, Felix, very careful indeed.”

  “I do not see it like that. She was genuinely upset,” Felix said. “She regretted being so unguarded. She apologised to me and ran away the moment Major Vernon said you were coming. She was in tears.”

  “She can cry to order. I have seen her do that on many occasions.”

  “You saw it over twenty years ago!” Felix said. “What do you know of her now?”

  “I know that she cannot have come here except to cause us trouble,” Lord Rothborough said.

  “I do not believe that. I think she has trouble all of her own – to do with those Santa Magdaleans. She gave me some documents to look after and she was insistent that Don Luiz should know nothing about it. She struck me as quite genuine and troubled by her brother-in-law’s death, which was odd enough in the first place.”

  “She has got her hooks into you, then,” said Lord Rothborough, with a sigh.

  “And you are as bitter as if were yesterday!” Felix said.

  “Of course. What she did to you was appalling. I cannot see how you do not feel it.”

  “I know it,” Felix said. “But seeing her, I do not feel it. She was adamant that she gave you to me.”

  “That is a form of words. That is all. It is no defence!” he said. “I know what happened. It was shocking.”

  “I want to speak to her,” Felix said going to the writing table in the corner of the parlour and sitting down. He took a piece of paper and picked up the pen. “I shall send for her. We will have this out for once and for all. She has a right to defend herself to me. I want to know the truth of it.”

  “I have always told you the truth, Felix,” said Lord Rothborough. “Please, I beg you, do not write to her.”

  Felix sat with the pen in hand.

  “Your truth,” he said. “Not hers. I looked her in the eyes, and she was – it was as if she were in pain. And I felt –” He looked round to where Rothborough was standing, his hands gripping the back rail of a chair, his head bowed. He, too, looked as if he were in pain. “If you really do not want me to, sir,” he said, putting down the pen.

  There was a long silence and then Lord Rothborough straightened himself and came over to the writing table. He laid his hand on Felix’s shoulder.

  “Write to her,” he said. “Let us get this over with.”

  -0-

  She came, an awkward hour or so later, during which Felix pretended to read a newspaper. Lord Rothborough astonished him by reading his own newspaper with a great deal more attention, to the extent of making occasional notes in his memorandum book as he scanned the dense columns. Felix admired his self-control. He wished he did not feel awash with sentiment.

  “You look well, Blanche,” Lord Rothborough said, when she had come in.

  “And so do you, Will.”

  Felix had never heard anyone address Lord Rothborough by his Christian name, let alone this diminutive.

  “Won’t you sit down?”

  “Thank you.”

  He sat at one end of the table, she at the other, Felix between them. A servant brought in tea and put the tray down in front of Dona Blanca. She drew off her gloves, and the silence thickened as the tea brewed.

  “I honestly do not know where to begin,” Lord Rothborough said.

  “Nor I,” she said. “I could pour the tea.”

  “Yes, why not?”

  She began to pour, and after a moment Lord Rothborough said, “I remember how you said that your mother would not let you make the tea after dinner. It was always your older sister who did so. And I got a Wedgwood set for you, in Paris, and had tea sent from London, so you could make it for me. And we would take our tea and pretend, like the children we were. Tea was a symptom of our foolishness.”

  “Yes,” she said, “indeed. I kept that set for many years. I took it to Santa Magdalena.”

  “You are spinning tales.”

  “No. A few cups and plates remain. At least they did before I left. I could not bring them with me.”

  Lord Rothborough was shaking his head.

  “That cannot be true.”

  “It is. I swear to God.”
r />   “You lied to me so often,” he said. “It was part of who you were, to deceive me.”

  “No, no,” she said, softly. “Not so very often. But yes, sometimes, yes. I was so young.”

  “Sixteen.”

  “Yes, and in a trap. A terrible trap.”

  “I did not trap you.”

  “No, but it was a trap for us both. That world. That way of being. We tried to defy it. I thought we had, for a while, but then...” She broke off and took up the sugar tongs, and dropped a small bit of sugar into one of the cups. “That is right, isn’t it?” she said, and offered the cup to him.

  “Yes,” he said, but he frowned as he took the cup. He sat down again, and stirred in the sugar, and said, “I wonder how it might have been if I had met you in Ireland, when you were still in your mother’s drawing room, not being allowed to make the tea.”

  “You would never have been there.”

  “Your people were respectable enough.”

  “Only because they chose to be, and then it was always a struggle. That drawing room was smaller than this room. What would you have been doing there? My father was a Roman Catholic attorney, and not a good one, with too many children and a terrible taste for the whiskey. Our paths could not have crossed. Paris was the only place in the world where we could have met.”

  “Until now,” Lord Rothborough said.

  “Well, this is no accident,” she said. “That is the truth of it. But,” and now she turned to Felix, “I had only meant to see you from a distance. That was all I intended.”

  “What do you mean?” Felix said.

  “I meant only to go and look at you from a distance. I just wanted to see what you looked like. It always haunted me, that idea, and after my husband died and we came back to Europe, it was so much worse, that longing to see you. I knew you were in Northminster. I had made enquiries, and I meant only to go there and see if I could catch sight of you. I thought I might see you at church or some such, and that would be enough. And then I could go back. But then you walked in and told me that Xavier was dead and ever since, well, I don’t know!”