Nightsong

by Valerie Sherwood

  Thoroughly bewildered, Robin bent and let his lady step on to his crossed hands as if he were boosting her up into a saddle. Instead he gave a mighty heave and tossed her upward. Airborne, Penny caught the lower part of the balcony’s iron grillework.

  Behind them came a shout and running feet. Robin staggered back, barely able to clear his sword from its scabbard before two of their pursuers were upon him. The other made a grab for Penny’s ankle, intending to pull her back down to the street.

  It was a bad mistake.

  Penny had anticipated that move and she swung from the balcony in such a way that momentum was behind the high heel she suddenly drove into his chin, sending him tumbling over backward.

  Before he could rise, she had scrambled over the railing on to the balcony. Before her she could see that Robin was being pressed hard by the two who had now pulled out cutlasses and threatened to surround him. She picked up the smallest of the flower pots - no mean feat, for none of them were small - aimed it with care and sent it crashing into the back of one of Robin’s assailants. It struck him in the back of the neck and he went down like a stone.

  Robin flashed a look upward and smiled.

  While the man Penny had kicked in the chin got himself up, Penny managed to get a really large potted plant up on to the railing where it teetered dangerously. Below her the man whose face bore the imprint of her heel was circling the balcony warily. She thought he might leap upward and try to swarm over the balcony and overpower her, and she tensed, her right hand meanwhile working desperately to loosen the plant in its pot.

  Now he dodged below her, thinking she would try to drop the pot upon his head, never doubting he could dodge it. He laughed.

  Penny regarded him calmly from above. She had got the plant worked loose by now. As he passed below her, exhorting her with a mocking wave to drop the pot, she wrested the plant from its pot, roots and all, and shook it over his head. Loose dirt cascaded down over his surprised face and into his eyes. He had not been expecting that. He fell back, cursing, clutching his eyes.

  But the third man was no mean adversary. Large and tough and agile, he was forcing a desperate Robin Tyrell back and back. They were some distance away by now and Robin was getting the worst of it.

  Penny kept a grip on the now empty crockery pot and swung a leg over the balcony. She let herself down with one hand and dropped lightly to the street below it. The man on whom she had showered dirt from the potted plant was now no threat - he was still clawing at his eyes.

  With catlike stealth she advanced upon the combatants. Behind her now the household was waking up. There were cries from within and the sound of running feet and someone gave a cry from the balcony. Neither man, intent on slashing and thrusting, took the least notice.

  Crouched over, Penny and the pot advanced upon that burly back. But out of the corner of his eye this one had seen what had happened to his fellows. He knew he was being stalked.

  As she got almost within range to swing the pot, he gave a great roar, knocked Robin backward with a sudden thrust of his cutlass and whirled about to deal with Penny.

  Again it was the wrong move to have made. Penny, graduate of the boisterous night life of New Providence and with reflexes many pirates had envied, left her crouch and leapt sideways. As she did, the heavy crockery pot left her hand - it took all her strength to hurl it - and struck her surprised attacker full in the face, knocking him out.

  His big body had not yet hit the street before Penny was leaping forward, picking up her red skirts.

  ‘The alarm’s been sounded!’ she cried. ‘Run!’

  Skirts flying, she ran like the wind. Having just been fighting for his life with all his might and finding himself somewhat winded, Robin Tyrell was hard pressed to keep up with her.

  ‘Faith,’ he panted. ‘But you’d have been a good man in a fight!’

  She turned to give him a quelling look. ‘I am a good man in a fight,’ she stated flatly. ‘But I’m tired of all that. I’ve decided I prefer to trail about in low-cut ball gowns while gentlemen pay me extravagant compliments and drink toasts to my eyebrows!’

  Robin’s chuckle told her that that was not quite what she had chosen to do tonight, and she laughed with him.

  They arrived, flushed and winded, at the governor’s back courtyard, and Penny let them in with her key. They moved stealthily in through the kitchen to the back stairs.

  Cook slept on.

  As she undressed for bed - in her own room, no less - Penny stared at her flushed face in the mirror and marvelled. It had been an odd evening, punctuated by danger and laughter, but not by sex. No tumble into bed - Robin had not asked it of her. Indeed it was the first really companionable evening she had spent with a man in years.

  And yet - she had enjoyed it.

  She grinned at her radiant reflection in the mirror.

  'New Providence wouldn’t know me!’ she murmured to herself half-ruefully.

  Morning brought Penny and the marquess together at breakfast, smiling a bit conspiratorially into each other’s eyes, for both of them had enjoyed last night’s rather disreputable episode.

  Marina sulked through breakfast, realizing full well that there were undercurrents here that did not include her.

  She flounced off to her room, and when Captain Juarez called she came down and - seeing that the Marquess of Saltenham was idling in the courtyard - brought the captain in with a great show of pleasure and hung on his words the entire time he was there.

  To her vexation, being ignored by her made no impression at all on the marquess. He was, if anything, relieved.

  Marina stared at him, baffled.

  And then abruptly she had had enough. It wasn’t dignified, she told herself angrily, to pursue men who didn’t want her. After she had bade Captain Juarez good-by, she left the courtyard with a very straight back.

  Afternoon found her sending various servants out on mysterious errands. Penny, watching, frowned in puzzlement, for Marina seemed to be giving them flowers. Each one left with a rose in his hand. She sighed for she had not the command of Spanish to find out what was going on. She supposed she would find out soon enough.

  What Marina had been doing remained a mystery until after dinner when she excused herself even before her favourite dessert - flan - was served.

  Marina had hardly had time to reach her bedchamber before there was a torrent of noise outside the house that almost lifted those still in the dining room from their chairs. It was as if several groups of musicians were playing discordantly, accompanied by a wild half-human braying that rose wildly above it.

  Marina’s duena, left behind at the table, threw up her hands and then sank back, holding her heart and fanning herself. Penny and the marquess, who had been brought to their feet by the racket, hurried to the front door and dashed outside to see what was the matter.

  What they saw was a sight to make the eyes bulge.

  Three groups of musicians were indeed playing loudly on stringed instruments - each group a different tune. And three different swains - all glaring at one another and raising their voices - in a vain attempt to drown the others out - were determinedly serenading beneath Marina’s window. Each wanted to be heard and was bending his best efforts in that direction.

  ‘I see Marina has been busy,’ muttered Penny, unheard in all the noise, for each of the singers held a rose in his hand. She looked grimly up at the balcony where Marina leaned against the iron grillework. In the moonlight the girl flashed down a look of triumph. Marina had had one too many possible admirers taken from her. Plainly she was out to show all and sundry that Havana was filled with her admirers. To that end she had tolled them to the house - not singly but in groups! By the simple method of having 'a rose from the governor’s daughter’ delivered to each young man’s door.

  ‘What is all this din?’ inquired the marquess, bewildered as Penny pulled him back inside.

  ‘They call it serenading,’ Penny informed him. ‘Marina has brought
it on. And the governor has too much laudanum in him tonight to know or care.’

  They went back to the dining room where they met the old duena, hand still over her heart, stumbling out.

  ‘Marina will be the death of her,’ muttered Penny, staring after the old woman.

  ‘What did you say?’ asked the marquess, for Penny’s voice had slurred into the throbbing noise that had followed them inside and was almost making the wineglasses dance upon the table.

  ‘I said Marina will be the death of her!’ shouted Penny and closed the door.

  That helped some, but not enough.

  ‘I wish my bedchamber were not so close to the front of the house!’ she sighed. ‘There is no telling how long it will last - if they do not fall to fighting, which may happen!’

  ‘Mine is farther back,’ he murmured, half heard. He leaned forward. ‘Not that we will be able to hear ourselves speak, but would you care to stay downstairs and have a game of cards with me?’ he finished gracefully. ‘By the time we have finished, so may these suitors.’

  Or perhaps they will have grown so hoarse they will simply give up and march away!’ laughed Penny. ‘But it does seem that we will have the evening to ourselves, Robin. Is that what you think we should do with it? Play cards?’

  The marquess, who was beginning to find this spirited beauty irresistible, leaned over and toyed with a lock of her hair. ‘I can tell you what I would like to do with it,’ he murmured, I would like to walk with you upon some deserted beach - ’

  ‘I have had enough of deserted beaches,’ interrupted Penny, laughing. ‘From now on I am going to prefer handsome halls and soft beds.’

  At the mention of ‘beds’ his eyes lit up.

  ‘A far better thought, dear lady!’ he applauded. ‘Tell me,’ he added quickly. ‘How did you say the governor fared tonight?’

  ‘Worse,’ she said promptly. ‘At least, groaning louder - until he was filled full of laudanum to make him sleep.’

  ‘Heartless wench!’ He grinned down at her.

  ‘I suppose I am,’ she agreed with composure. ‘Aren’t you glad, Robin?’ she added pertly.

  He nodded, his hot gaze on her challenging face. ‘Might I ask you to share a glass of wine with me in some more private place than this dining room?’

  ‘Your bedchamber?’ she hazarded.

  ‘Or yours, dear lady,’ was his urbane response.

  ‘Marina must not know,’ she cautioned. ‘She would make trouble. Not that she is likely to hear anything besides the din below her balcony!’

  ‘I am the soul of discretion,’ he promised. ‘Do you think they would miss this bottle of wine if I carried it upstairs?’

  ‘I do not think so. There are wineglasses in my room. I will join you presently.’ She paused and gave him a droll look. ‘Shall I bring a pack of cards to entertain us?’

  ‘Why not?’ he shrugged. ‘Since neither of us has any money, what have we to lose?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know!’ Penny said irrepressibly. ‘You could always wager your debts and I could wager my underwear!’

  ‘That,’ agreed the marquess, unable to keep the eagerness from his voice, ‘should indeed make for an amusing evening!’

  And so the woman who had been through so much and the rake who always took the easy way out found themselves facing each other in a back bedroom filled with stiff Spanish furniture and the windows open on to the tropic night with the trade winds blowing the curtains.

  And found themselves, their playing cards forgotten, falling together upon the big square bed and clinging to each other with all the fervour of the damned. They were both skilful lovers, well matched. Together they reached heights of passion, plunged down lovely luxurious valleys, rose again to soar together.

  They both had handsome bodies, they were both proud of them. Somehow their clothes had slipped away, they had admired each other’s nakedness and now, with bodies gleaming damp in the moonlight, they were trying new delights, goading each other onward. Again and yet again.

  Penny had slipped into Robin Tyrell’s arms languorously, half out of boredom, half out of a restless seeking for something new. But she left those arms in wonder, knowing she had met her match, while Robin thought he had never before seen such a wench.

  And now as they rested on their elbows, lazily touching in the afterglow, she knew she had never felt such kinship with a man before. She had sympathy for Robin Tyrell - that was it. In the world’s eyes he was a rakehell and always would be - but then wasn’t she an adventuress herself?

  She had sympathy for Robin’s plight, too. Caught between a harridan of a mother-in-law and a wife who was turning into one!

  Well - she would rescue him from that! Just how, she wasn’t quite sure but she was suddenly certain that she was going to try.

  Because . . . just possibly . . . she had found tonight what she had so long been seeking, that something more than sex to share with a man.

  She just might have found the love of her life.

  The next day the governor was better - not well enough for making love but wide awake enough to require caution on the part of the lovers.

  Suitors continued to wail love songs nightly beneath Marina’s balcony.

  Downstairs Penny and Robin ignored the caterwauling. They played whist and gazed smiling into each other’s eyes.

  They didn’t know it, but they were falling in love.

  THE HOUSE ON THE PLAZA

  DE ARMAS

  HAVANA, CUBA

  29

  The arrival of the white and gold galleon had brought a flurry of social life to Havana. Not to be outdone, the governor - whose gout had improved - was giving a ball the next night in honour of the El Dorado's officers. The entire household was excited about it - even Marina had turned tractable.

  Carolina had arrived back in Havana only the day before Penny, having been refused entrance to the house and wrangling with old Juana at the door, had made so much noise that Carolina called out to ask who was there. Upon learning it was Penny, she told Juana to let her in.

  Penny brushed past the old woman and found Don Diego and Carolina sipping tall drinks in the courtyard by the tinkling fountain.

  ‘Come join us,’ Carolina said graciously.

  Penny’s keen gaze took in the pair of them, lounging at table - Don Diego coatless with his flowing white shirt open at the front above his dark trousers, Carolina clad only in her light chemise and with her fair hair cascading down over her slim shoulders. To Penny, they both looked as though they had just risen from making love.

  ‘Well, so much for fever!’ laughed Penny. ‘I came over to deliver an invitation to Don Diego to attend the governor’s ball tomorrow night - but I see now that you’d much rather stay home with “fever”. Don’t worry, I’ll make your excuses - and I’ll find my own way out.’

  ‘Penny, I never meant for Juana to keep you out!’ Carolina protested in a stricken voice. ‘It was just that the governor’s daughter bothered us so much.’ She didn’t mention that they hadn’t been home, anyway!

  Penny’s sapphire eyes considered her younger sister. She had discovered in herself a reluctance for Robin and Carolina to meet. She had sensed that Carolina had stirred something deep and forgotten in the dissolute marquess - and might again.

  But now that she saw how things were, now that Don Diego and Carolina were holed up in the house and apparently reluctant to leave it, there was no problem!

  ‘Oh, Marina is bothering someone else now,’ she told them in a blithe voice. ‘An Englishman who arrived aboard the El Dorado. It seems he was picked up at sea from a foundering vessel and he tells a wild tale about lost papers, and being shipwrecked twice! Anyway, Marina was suddenly mad for him - she gets these wild infatuations. And when he didn’t respond she must have sent a rose to every young man in Havana! All that noise under her window - ’

  ‘We heard it last night!’

  ‘ - was her swains serenading. She’s busy showing our house gues
t what a popular girl she is!’

  ‘You mean this man is actually staying at the governor’s house?’ exclaimed Carolina. ‘I had rather thought an Englishman, arriving willy-nilly on these shores, might end up in El Morro!’

  ‘Oh, he has a glib tongue, has this one!’

  Don Diego had been listening to this conversation. Now he entered it. ‘Tell the governor I will be well enough to attend his ball - and with a lady.’

  Carolina whirled. ‘Oh, you can’t - we can’t! I mean - ’

  ‘With a lady?’ Penny caught her breath. That meant Robin and Carolina were sure to meet! ‘Don’t tell me he means you, Carolina!’ she said warily.

  ‘I am afraid he does,’ Carolina said unhappily. ‘But it would cause a great stir and - ’

  Penny drew a deep breath. If Robin still cared for Carolina, better to know it now! Quickly she joined in on Don Diego’s side. ‘Let it cause a great stir,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I am going myself.’

  ‘You are?' Carolina stared.

  ‘Yes, I am to be the governor’s official hostess - since he is a widower.’

  And social Havana might accept her as such because - even though tongues would undoubtedly wag - there were those who would see that Marina was still too young and hoydenish to assume that duty. Some of the women would insist, of course, on regarding Penny as merely an upper servant, allowed too much leeway.

  But for Don Diego to bring his mistress to the governor’s ball? Surely the roof would fall in if he did!

  ‘Of course you must do it,’ urged Penny, who, if she was in for a penny, was always in for a pound. ‘The governor will be amused. But have you anything to wear?’

  Carolina admitted she did not. ‘Which is another reason why I must not consider going. I can hardly appear in riding clothes!'

  ‘Well, if there was anything Constanza had in quantity, it was ball gowns,’ Penny said cheerfully. ‘I will certainly be able to find you something.’

  And she did. She was back that afternoon with an armload of clothing that Carolina could hardly believe, great billows of white were spread out across the bed: a glamorous gown of heavy white lace over thin white satin and a marvel of a white silk petticoat, and a tall carved tortoiseshell comb to hold up a floating white mantilla so sheer and lovely -