by Val Wood
‘And they use your other ships!’ Edward said.
‘One of them,’ Rodriguez agreed. ‘Not the one you used, but the other one. They prefer to have it to themselves so that they do not disturb anyone else with their praying.’ He nodded. ‘They are good well-meaning people,’ he commented. ‘Confident in their belief. But I regret to say that they are following the wrong religion!’
This man is immovable, Edward thought. He would not budge one inch on custom, religion or business matters if he thought he was right. God only knows what he would do if someone crossed him. I suspect he would not care too much if he found out about Elena and Zac once she was safely married, but if he found out about Sofia and me! Phew! Perhaps I should escape whilst I can! Pack my bags and go. He would never find me, not in this vast country.
But Sofia was waiting for them when they got back and announced that they could go to the country, that she had made all arrangements and could not do more for the moment. He succumbed to the fascination, the lure of her and the promise of fulfilment now that he was officially betrothed to Elena. The vows he had made to his wife on their wedding day meant no more to him now than they had when he had taken a mistress in England. And it escaped his reasoning that in going through a marriage with Elena, he would be breaking the law.
‘Meet me tonight at your doll’s house,’ he whispered to Sofia on the first evening back in the country. ‘You promised.’
‘I cannot,’ she hedged. ‘It is not the right time for me. I am of child-bearing age, you know!’
‘When?’ he said. ‘When?’
‘Soon, a few days only.’ She seemed anxious, her hands fluttering, her manner nervy. ‘Will you ride wiz Elena? She wants to show you the land where you will build your ’ouse.’
‘Will you come?’ He couldn’t bear not to be with her.
‘No.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘I ’ave a ’eadache. I must rest. It is the worry of so many things to do.’
Elena was waiting for him with a horse already saddled. He was rather perturbed to find Zac there too on a powerful stallion. ‘Is he afraid I might take advantage of you?’ he gibed.
‘Yes, I sink so,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I told him that you would not, but ’e did not believe me.’
Incredible, Edward thought moodily. That Zac should be so jealous. She’s the last woman that I would want to take to my bed.
They rode along the valley where they had had the barbacoa, then followed a track to the top of the grassy hill towards the tree line. From there they looked over acres of cotton and cane fields and in the distance could see the wide brown ribbon of the Mississippi.
‘Here would be the ranch ’ouse,’ Elena said and rode her horse in a wide arc. ‘There will be windows on all sides so that we can look out over the cotton fields. There,’ she pointed with her whip, ‘will be the stables for our ’orses. And here,’ she indicated a bank of trees, ‘Zac will have his ’ouse.’
Edward glanced at Zac who was sitting quite still, listening and looking. We’ll see about that, he thought. Zac needn’t think he’s going to be master just because he’s sleeping with Elena. Oh dear no! It will be my house, my land and, although I don’t mind turning a blind eye on occasions if they indulge in a little intrigue, I’ll make the rules, whether Elena likes it or not!
By the end of the third day he was bored. The weather was as warm as the month of June in England. He had enjoyed the luxury of lazing in the sunshine, though Sofia had laughed at him from beneath her parasol, saying that only Englishmen would do that, and he had relished being waited upon by servants who brought him cool drinks, hot spicy coffee, titbits to nibble and cigars to smoke. But now he was restless: his nearness to Sofia, breathing in her perfume, watching her lips as she spoke, filled him with an urgent desire.
‘I must take a walk,’ he said, getting up. ‘To stretch my legs.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come with me.’
‘It will soon be time for supper,’ she demurred.
‘They won’t start without us,’ he insisted. ‘Come.’
She smiled and gave him her hand to help her up from the cushioned cane chair. ‘Just a short walk, then,’ she agreed. ‘To the arbour.’
She grumbled, for the grass was wet. There had been torrential rain the night before, and although the day had been sunny a warm haze clung to the trees and the bowers, so that as they brushed past them they were showered with droplets of fine mist.
‘I am wet,’ she complained. ‘My shoes!’
‘Then I will carry you,’ he said, and before she could dissent he picked her up and carried her towards the orchard and the cabin.
‘No, Ed-ward, we must not! It is too dangerous,’ she protested.
‘It is not.’ He held her firmly. ‘You said that no-one ever came here.’
He pushed the door of the cabin wider with his foot and went inside. It was quite dark and smelt slightly damp and steamy, but somehow this increased his desire for her. He kicked the door closed and, placing her on the bed, unbuttoned his jacket. He knelt at the side of the bed. ‘I have been very patient, Sofia,’ he murmured. ‘You know that I have, and you did promise.’
She gazed at him and he saw uncertainty on her face. She bit her lips together. ‘I don’t know if it is right,’ she began. ‘If Sancho should find out.’
‘But you said,’ he began unfastening her gown, ‘you said that when I am married to Elena we can meet whenever Sancho is in New Orleans.’ He slipped her bodice off her shoulders, revealing her smooth pale breasts. He bent to kiss them. ‘And he is in New Orleans now.’
‘But,’ she objected breathlessly, ‘you are not yet married to Elena.’
‘But I will be.’ He gently pushed her down onto the pillow. ‘In no time at all, so why wait? I can’t wait, Sofia. I want you. Must have you. Now.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Though she fought him to begin with, her objections eventually gave way and she responded. ‘You are a good lover, Ed-ward,’ she whispered. ‘I did not expect it from an Eenglishman. You ’ave roused me as I ’aven’t been roused in a long time. Not since Brown,’ she admitted. ‘He was a good lover, though impatient.’
‘And Sancho?’ he asked. ‘You said that he’d rescued you from Brown!’
‘So he did. But ’e treats me always as a lady.’ She smiled seductively. ‘And now you know that I am not a lady.’
He nodded and heaved a sigh of satisfaction. She was not. She was a tigress. Once she had succumbed to his advances she had surprised him by her passion. It was as if it had been bottled up, waiting for someone to spring the cork, and she had taken his breath away.
‘Will you come back later?’ he asked. ‘Tonight when everyone is in bed? Please!’
She hesitated, then said, ‘Yes, all right. You must use the side door, but be careful, the night servants don’t sleep. They are on watch until sunrise.’
He crept downstairs at one o’clock as arranged, but found his way barred by a young black boy sitting by the door. ‘I can’t sleep,’ Edward said brusquely. ‘Let me out, please. I’m going for a walk.’
‘You want me come wid you, Meester Newmarch?’ the boy asked.
He can’t be more than twelve, Edward thought. How can he be on guard? Though I suppose he would be able to run fast to fetch help if there were intruders. ‘No,’ he said. ‘But don’t lock me out.’
He walked down through the arbour and into the orchard and wondered how Sofia could come out without being seen. He waited for a few minutes within the shadows of the cabin and then saw someone approaching. It was not the dainty form of Sofia, but the plodding figure of Elena.
‘What—! What are you doing here?’ Then he saw the young boy behind her.
‘Ssh!’ She put her finger to her lips and entered the cabin. ‘It is all right. The boy comes with me for protection. ’E thinks I come to meet you secretly. My mother will slip out of the door whilst he is ’ere wiz me.’
Edward was astonished and not a little alarmed. Why d
id Sofia tell her daughter that she had arranged to meet him? What on earth was she thinking of?
Elena waited ten minutes, sitting on the bed and breathing heavily. Then she stood up. ‘It is enough time I think for us to ’ave – what you call it? Coupled? Yes? The boy, ’e will remember. I go now. Then my mother comes.’
What’s happening? What game are they playing? He peered down the orchard towards the arbour as Elena and the boy returned to the house, then was suddenly startled by Sofia coming round the corner of the cabin.
‘We must not be found out,’ she whispered. ‘Elena will give the boy somesing to do, to keep ’im busy until we return.’
‘Sofia!’ he said, taking her in his arms. ‘There must be some other way without telling Elena.’
‘It is all right,’ she murmured. ‘I tell ’er that we only talk.’
‘Hah! I’m sure she’ll believe that!’ But he was distracted by her sensuous fingers exploring beneath his shirt and unfastening his buttons, and with a groan he sank onto the bed and pulled her on top of him.
‘Your wife?’ she said, moving her body slowly across his. ‘Was she good lover? Better than me?’
‘May? No!’ He ran his hands over her smooth skin, over her breasts and belly, and down to her frizzy bush. ‘She isn’t. Not like this.’
‘She was cold English woman? So you take a mistress, yes?’
‘Yes,’ he breathed, consumed with craving. ‘I did. She’s beautiful just like you.’
‘Why you not bring ’er wiz you?’ She slid off him so that he could come on top of her.
‘She wouldn’t come,’ he grunted. ‘Don’t talk. It’s past. Enjoy now.’
But she persisted as later they lay on the narrow bed with their arms entwined about each other. ‘And your wife, she know about your lover? But she not angry wiz you?’
‘Oh, yes.’ He laughed softly as he remembered. ‘She was angry all right. Furious!’
‘Even though she not want to make love wiz you herself? I not understand!’
‘It’s the way she has been brought up.’ He put his hands behind his head and considered. ‘She hadn’t been told what to expect, so I suppose she was shocked. And I suppose she might have been jealous of Ruby when she found out. She called her all kinds of names.’
‘Perhaps you should have tried ’arder wiz her. Though not everyone ’as this passion inside.’ She clutched at her breastbone in emphasis. ‘Sancho ’as not got it, except for business,’ she added.
‘Oh, May definitely hasn’t got any passion,’ he said thoughtlessly. ‘Not like you – or Ruby. She never will have. Not in a million years!’
She studied him in the half-light. ‘What you say? I sink your Eenglish is not right!’
‘What?’ He turned to her, smiling, but saw the concern on her face. ‘What do you mean?’
She half sat up, leaning on her elbow and staring at him. ‘You say, she ’as not got any passion. You should say, she ’ad not, yes?’
He was startled. What a fool to make such a mistake. ‘It – it was a slip of the tongue only,’ he said with a half-laugh.
‘No.’ She moved away from him. ‘It was not! You say also that it ees the way she ’as been brought up. And, she isn’t. It is, er—’ She struggled to find the right words. ‘The present! You speak of your wife as if she is alive. But she is dead, no? You say that you are in mourning.’
He saw perception dawning on her face and he knew that he could not deny it. Besides, his conscience churned, he had stated that his wife was dead. He had never given her a name. Could he now, after talking of May and naming her, could he coldly deny her existence? Am I so hard and calculating that I can do that?
‘Sofia!’ He reached out in an attempt to pacify her, but her brown eyes flashed with sparks of amber.
‘No,’ she snapped. ‘You tell me! Is your wife dead, or do you tell lie to me?’
‘She is not dead,’ he admitted. ‘She’s alive in England. I left her.’
‘Bastardo!’ She slapped his face. ‘You Eenglish bastard. You trick me!’
‘Ow! Sofia! It wasn’t like that. I didn’t mean to trick you!’ His face smarted. ‘It just got out of hand.’
She curled her fingers into a claw and struck out again but he caught hold of her. ‘Listen to me!’
‘No,’ she screeched. ‘You listen to me. You promise to marry Elena but you are not a widower like you say!’
‘No-one would know.’ He struggled to hold her fast for she was lashing out like a wildcat. ‘How would anyone find out? Nobody knows me.’
She gasped. ‘You would marry in church? Before God and the priest? In front of everyone? You not care about that?’ She stopped her assault and stared at him. ‘What kind of man are you?’
He stared back and let go of her. ‘The kind that you wanted for your daughter! Why did you want me, Sofia? Why, on such a short acquaintance, was I persuaded to marry her? It wasn’t just so that you and I could become lovers!’ he taunted.
‘I will tell Sancho,’ she hissed. ‘He will kill you.’
‘Oh, yes!’ he said with a pretence of irony. ‘Does he kill everyone who crosses him? Will he kill you when he finds out you’ve been here with me?’
She hit out again and caught him on his chin, scratching him with her nails. ‘He will not find out. I tell ’im you tried to seduce me!’
‘You didn’t take much seducing,’ he said with sarcasm. ‘You were quite willing.’
‘I did it for Elena.’ She raised her head and glared at him. ‘Sancho says we must find a ’usband for her. She is difficult wiz ’im. He want her to go. He will give a dowry if she marries well, but not if she marries a servant.’
‘Well then,’ he said. ‘You tricked me, didn’t you? You came to my bed to persuade me to marry Elena. Would you have continued the affair once we were married?’
She gave a little shrug. ‘Per’aps. Per’aps not. I don’t know,’ she pouted. ‘But now you ’ave spoilt it.’ Then she raised her hands to her mouth in alarm. ‘Dios! What will we do?’
Hurriedly she slipped on her gown and shoes and snatched up her shawl. ‘I will ride to New Orleans in the morning and tell Sancho! You ’ad better hide, Meester Englishman.’
‘No. Wait. Sofia!’ he pleaded. ‘Can we not resolve this? Let Elena decide. She must be the one to say she will not marry me.’
‘She is foolish girl,’ she said bitterly. ‘She will say we will not tell that you are still married. I know her, you see.’
‘Well then—!’ he began, when they heard a sound outside the cabin.
‘Momia.’ Elena’s whispered voice came from outside. ‘You must be quick. The boy, ’e wants to lock the door. I tell him I can’t sleep, I must walk in the garden.’
Sofia spoke in rapid Spanish to Elena and although Edward couldn’t understand, he knew full well what she was saying.
‘You are still married, yes?’ Elena came into the cabin. ‘Your wife is not dead?’
He shook his head.
‘You cannot marry me like you said?’
‘I’m sorry, Elena. I just got carried away by the thought of living here, and,’ he added defensively, ‘you both did your best to persuade me.’
‘He must marry me.’ Elena turned to her mother. ‘No-one will know about ’im and if they find out afterwards there is no shame on me.’
‘You heathen,’ Sofia spat out. ‘It is not possible.’
‘Si,’ Elena said eagerly. ‘Then I will ’ave my ’ouse and my land and he can leave if ’e is found out, and the child will ’ave his name.’
‘Child? What child?’ Edward stared from one to the other. ‘Don’t tell me—!’ He put his hand to his head. ‘That’s why you needed a husband! You were going to say the child was mine! And I thought I was devious. What a farce!’
‘I am going to bed!’ Sofia stormed to the door. ‘I will think what to do in the morning.’
‘Señor – Meester Newmarch,’ Elena said as her mother flung out of th
e door. ‘I don’t care that you are still married, though it was better that you did not tell me. I must ’ave my ’ouse for when my child is born. Sancho will not give it to me if ’e thinks that it is Zac’s child.’
She raised her hands in an expressive gesture. ‘I must say that you ’ave your way wiz me otherwise. The boy saw us come ’ere,’ she added. ‘Sancho will be very angry.’
Edward recoiled in horror at the threat. Things were getting worse and worse. He was sinking ever deeper. Whatever should he do?
‘Tomorrow we speak again,’ she said. ‘If we both tell my mother that we shall be married, she will not do anything. She will not tell Sancho.’ She gave a sly smile. ‘I know that she will not. I see ’er come here to you. She will not tell.’
‘My God! What a kettle of fish,’ Edward muttered as he got back to his room. He sat on the bed for a moment whilst he attempted to put his thoughts in order. I must have been crazy to contemplate marriage. Suddenly everything came into focus. If I marry Elena I shall be a bigamist! I wonder what the punishment is for that in America. But if I don’t marry her she will say that I have seduced her and given her a child! Sofia may say that I attempted to seduce her too, which will add weight to their story.
He took a deep breath. There’s only one thing to do. Escape! But how? The doors were guarded both front and side. The door at the back was the servants’ entrance and he was sure that there would be staff there. The window! He got up and drew back the curtains, opened the casement and looked down. His room was at the side of the house, facing the arbour and orchard, and although it was a long drop, the walls were smothered in creeper with thick and sinewy old stems.
Quickly he gathered up his belongings and stuffed them into his bag. ‘It’s now or never,’ he muttered. ‘I’m damned if I go and damned if I stay. So I’ll go.’ He moved a chair to the window and placed his bag on it, then gingerly, for he had never been very athletic, he put one leg over the window sill, reached for his bag, lowered his head and shoulders and started to heave himself out of the window.
He paused halfway. Why am I bringing the bag? It’s cumbersome and contains only clothes. Nothing that I can’t do without. He thrust it back through the window again, then, with both hands free, began his precarious descent. He managed to cling on fairly easily until he got to the last few feet, when a thin whippy branch pulled away from the main stem, snapping beneath his weight and plummeting him down onto the gravel below.
