Nightsong

by Valerie Sherwood

  ‘Thank you, Luz,’ said Carolina, sipping her wine and feeling suddenly much stronger. ‘You did an excellent job of hemming my gown,’ she added graciously, ‘I will recommend your work to my sister for I know that you would like to return to the governor’s household.’

  Luz looked pleased. Carolina watched her go. She felt she was standing on an unprotected beach in the way of a storm spreading out on a long front and about to reach her. There was nothing for it but to wait and try to ride it out.

  Don Diego was watching her searchingly. He, of course, could have no idea that the governor’s guest would instantly recognize him if they were seen together.

  She could only hope that the Marquess of Saltenham would be leaving soon - and that she could hold Kells at home until he went.

  Kells was studying her, she saw, as she looked up. ‘I think you have been under too much strain,’ he said, frowning, and she realized that he was referring not only to her sudden fainting spell but to her constant references to him as Kells.

  ‘Yes, I have,’ she told him, for she had a feeling that it was all out of her hands, that fate was going to decide the issue for her one way or another.

  ‘You should rest,’ he decided, and with his own hands helped her undress. But although her nakedness tempted him - she saw that heat in his grey eyes - he did not try to stir her to desire. He cradled her in his arms and gave her an affectionate kiss on the forehead, then lifted her up lightly and settled her on the big square bed. She might have been a child, she thought, whom he held in affection, for tonight there was nothing of the lover in his manner - only the friend.

  She lay beside him, wakeful and watchful, through the long night, and at last, just before dawn, fell into an exhausted sleep.

  She insisted upon getting up early to breakfast with Don Diego. He looked every inch the Spaniard, she thought, so relaxed and easy in his dark Spanish silks, his bronzed face as swarthy as that of any Spanish Caballero.

  He conversed easily in Spanish with Luz, who brought their breakfast and looked more kindly upon Carolina than she had at any time since she had been plucked from the governor's household and sent against her will to serve next door.

  He fits well here in Havana, Carolina admitted to herself reluctantly. He must have fit very well back in Salamanca, where he learned his Castilian Spanish and his ease with Spanish ways. Of course, he was an easy adapter. He had carried off the part of an Irish buccaneer in Tortuga with aplomb - and never been challenged. She had asked him questions about what he knew of what he believed to be his ‘old life’ back in Spain, and she had learned that he was a bachelor, that his family were all dead, that he came from a small town and had by an act of heroism saved the life of a prominent member of the King’s council - a gentleman who had since died. He had never been at Court; few knew him. If she had not come along, he could perhaps have settled down happily in Havana - perhaps have eventually married the governor’s daughter although, knowing his restless nature and taste in women, she doubted it. But pondering now, she thought that perhaps her fears for him if he went back to Spain were unreasonable. It was her own presence here that endangered him. No one had guessed this dark Spanish gentleman to be the notorious Kells - it was the English marquess in his grey suit, that colour of which Kells was so fond, who had been denounced.

  I am disturbing him, she thought sadly. I am trying to make him reconstruct from his shattered memory a life he once had and does not now desire. I am trying to bring him back to me as he was - not as he is now. It could pull him apart.

  Luz was pouring their strong black coffee. Its aroma mingled with the scent of bougainvillaea in the courtyard. The sun streamed down near their table, shaded beneath the gallery behind the pillars.

  ‘They have arrested the governor’s guest of honour,’ she told Carolina importantly.

  Carolina, poised with her cup in midair, set it down very carefully upon the table. Her world seemed to spin out, and time stood still. Nearby the fountain tinkled, but she felt for the moment as if she had left the world of Havana and journeyed back in time to the events that had brought her here. She felt as if it had all been predestined long ago.

  ‘That’s interesting, Luz,’ she heard herself say.

  ‘You aren’t eating,’ remarked Don Diego suddenly, a few minutes later.

  ‘I am never hungry this early,’ she remarked vaguely. But I have just remembered - I promised Penny I would go over there this morning after breakfast. She is having a new dress made and wants my advice.’ She rose. ‘I hope you will excuse me if I am not back for lunch - Penny is such a stickler about these things. Every quarter inch of hem becomes a crisis!’

  Don Diego looked at her in some surprise; he seemed to recall a woman called Rouge who slouched about in men’s clothing, looking seductive but hardly fashionable. You look a little pale,’ he observed.‘Do not stay out too long in the sun.’

  ‘Oh, I will not,’ she promised. For little sunlight filters into the depths of El Morro . . .

  She turned to take a last wistful look at him as she went out, for this might be the last time she ever saw him. Those who sought El Morro had sometimes looked their last upon the world. He was so handsome sitting there, watching her with a worried look on his dark face. So handsome, so virile - and so Spanish. And now that the Marquess of Saltenham had been arrested, it was unlikely that anyone - even marking the resemblance - would give the matter a thought.

  He was . . . not safe, he would never be safe while she was around to conjure up thoughts of buccaneers . . . but safer.

  She left the house and went as fast as she could to El Morro. It took an effort of courage to enter there, for so many of those who entered this grim fortress upon the rock never left it - at least never left it alive. Frightening stories had circulated in Tortuga about what happened to Englishmen unfortunate enough to end up there.

  She told herself firmly that that was before Ramon del Mundo had commanded the fort. Squaring her slim shoulders, she walked resolutely up to the nearest guard and asked to see the commandant.

  ‘Who seeks him, señorita?’ asked the guard politely, for this slender imperious lady in black riding clothes was evidently an aristocrat.

  ‘Tell him it is Doña Carolina,’ she said, tossing back her fair hair, and found herself led down tortuous, echoing corridors into what indeed must be the ‘heart’ of this stark abode.

  The guard left her and she felt tense, keyed up, as she waited. For she must be a consummate actress this day if she was to convince a man as clever as Ramon del Mundo.

  She had not long to wait. Don Ramon bounded into the small room, looking dramatically alive against the greyness of the old stone walls.

  ‘Doña Carolina!’ He bowed gracefully, but his tawny eyes when he looked up were full of curiosity. ‘What brings you here to my fortress?’

  ‘I would speak with you alone,’ said Carolina.

  He ushered her into a plain room whose grim grey walls were alleviated by velvet hangings. The furnishings were sparse and heavy. He beckoned her to a seat at a sturdy table and poured for her a glass of fine Malaga.

  Carolina sipped her wine. She found it hard to begin. Perhaps it is always hard, she thought, to begin a conversation that will surely end in one’s own death.

  ‘I think I have been unkind to you, Don Ramon,’ she said suddenly. ‘I led you on - and then I hurt your pride.’

  He winced. ‘Why did you lead me on?’ he asked curiously.

  ‘Because I found you attractive.’ There was no point in not admitting the truth.

  He sat straighter. ‘So you found me attractive . . .’ he murmured.

  ‘Yes. In Port Royal and again here. My spirit needed solace. I was wrong to seek it in your arms.’

  ‘No,’ he said gently. ‘You were not wrong there. I am afraid I did not give you much solace.’

  ‘You - helped,’ she said. ‘But - I had another life before I met you, and I am still swept forward by that life. We are all
of us swept along - I think you understand that.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I understand that very well. But what is it that brings you to El Morro?’

  ‘You have a prisoner here,’ she said steadily, and took another long sip of wine. ‘You took him at the governor’s palace. Last night.’

  ‘You wish to see him?’

  ‘No, I have no need to see him. I know very well who he is.’

  ‘Ah-h-h . . .’ He said it on a long sigh. He leaned back suddenly in his chair, toyed with his glass as he watched her with those tawny eyes. ‘And who is he?’

  ‘He is Captain Kells,’ she said.

  He was still toying with his glass, still watching her. ‘He swears that he is not. He swears that he is Robin Tyrell, Marquess of Saltenham, an English peer.’

  ‘He is very persuasive,’ she said. ‘I understand that last night he had the governor believing him.’

  ‘That is true.’ He leaned forward, a hunter on the scent. ‘But why would you wish to denounce him, Doña Carolina?’

  She was ready for his question, ready with her lies. ‘Because word is already circulating about the town that I am the Silver Wench.’

  He frowned. ‘Such word has not come from me.’

  ‘No, I am certain it did not. But Captain Avila knew it.’

  ‘He had hardly stepped ashore before he was back at sea. He cannot accuse you.’

  ‘All those aboard the Ordeal knew it.’

  ‘And they are in El Morro - under my command. You need have no fear from that quarter.’

  She sighed. ‘Some of Captain Avila’s officers knew.’

  He was silent, for this was bad news indeed. The Silver Wench was too famous a figure not to be implicated with Kells. It was different with Rouge - she was merely a notorious woman from New Providence who had consorted with pirates, a colourful figure but of no real importance to the Spanish authorities. But Kells had been so long a thorn in the side of Spain. He had sunk their galleons, raided their coasts - his name rang like steel throughout the Caribbean. Taking him at last was a triumph that would be toasted all the way to Madrid. But the Silver Wench was alleged to have sailed with him aboard the Sea Wolf, to have assisted Kells in his plans against Spain. She would have to be arrested. Ramon del Mundo drummed his fingers upon the table top that served him as a desk. He was thinking. He looked up suddenly.

  ‘Did you tell the guard who you were?’

  ‘Only that I was Doña Carolina.’

  His face cleared. ‘Then there is no need to condemn yourself alongside this buccaneer. These walls have no ears, and I will deny that we ever had this conversation. Be gone from here and no one will be the wiser.’

  ‘Many are already the wiser. Word of who I am is spreading about the city. I heard it today being whispered among the servants. It is only a matter of time until the governor hears.’

  He flashed her a grim smile and she was reminded how young and wild he had looked in the tropical night outside Havana - and how attractive. ‘If you are arrested, Doña Carolina, you will be brought here to me. And’ - he spread out his hands - ‘you will contrive a miraculous escape, perhaps the first, from El Morro. It will add to your fame!’ he promised sardonically.

  ‘I do not wish to bring you to your death, Don Ramon,’ she chided him.

  ‘You will not do that,’ he told her with some amusement.

  This conversation was not proceeding quite the way she had intended. Carolina moved restively.

  He saw her hesitation and leaned forward. ‘Do you wish to flee the city?’ he asked bluntly. ‘Is that why you have come to me?’

  ‘No - oh, no.’ She spoke quickly, perhaps too quickly. He sat back, considering her through narrowed eyes. 'What, then?’

  She swallowed. ‘I was not even sure that I would make it here before being arrested. One of the servant girls hates me, and I think that even now she may be whispering in the ear of the governor.’ She tried to make her voice quaver. ‘I was seen by many coming here, and I doubt not that when I step forth front the fort I will be dragged before the governor and accused.’

  The dark face before her seemed devoid of expression now. ‘So what is it you wish from me?’ he asked silkily.

  Carolina made a slight appealing gesture. She looked very feminine sitting there, very vulnerable. She was well aware of it. ‘I wish you to intercede for me with the governor, Don Ramon. There is no doubt I will be arrested once they know that I am the Silver Wench. I am certain to be brought in to identify your prisoner. I thought that if I came forward now, perhaps I could avoid the fire.’

  He sat back thoughtfully. Self-preservation was indeed a mighty goad. He had seen men denounce their wives, mothers their sons, daughters their fathers.

  ‘I am surprised you do not wish to see him,’ he murmured.

  ‘I saw him last night,’ she countered. ‘Do you not remember that I fainted when the sailor said he recognized Kells?’

  ‘I remember that you fainted. I was not sure then that that was the reason. You did not seem to be near the fellow at the time.’

  ‘I had just been talking to him in the dining room, which was empty and gave us privacy.’

  ‘And Don Diego allowed this tête-à-tête?’ he asked curiously.

  ‘Don Diego was occupied elsewhere. Someone had claimed his attention. I saw Kells and slipped away.’ She thought she had it all down very pat.

  ‘There is great danger in your coming forward to admit you are the Silver Wench,’ he warned. ‘And if this man is truly Kells, he must love you and he would not wish you to endanger yourself.’

  ‘No, no,’ she said impatiently. ‘I thought you understood. I cannot face a future of running and hiding, so I am doing this to preserve my life. By coming forward now, I can hope for clemency.’

  He rose with decision. ‘I will take you to him.’

  Ah, that was no part of her plan! She lifted a trembling hand as if to ward him off. ‘I - I could not face him now,’ she said in a stumbling voice. ‘I could not bear the look on his face - knowing that I have denounced him.’

  ‘You will have to denounce him in person,’ he insisted in a steely voice. ‘Face to face.’

  ‘I will do it, ‘she said faintly. ‘But not today - please not today.’

  He stood staring down at her. ‘Say tomorrow morning before witnesses? Before the governor?’

  She nodded. There would be an outburst from Robin Tyrell, but she would carry it off somehow. And he was a wily fellow. He would manage somehow to bribe his way out and make his escape - she had complete faith in the marquess’s ability to manoeuvre. Not that he didn’t deserve to hang in Kells’s place for had he not masqueraded as Kells some four years ago, she and Kells would be living in Essex now, bringing up their children!

  ‘You look very tired,’ he murmured, and there was compassion in his eyes. ‘I would not put you through it now.’

  ‘That is good of you,’ she said. And rose to go.

  ‘I have heard a rumour,’ he said suddenly, ‘that you are to marry Don Diego Vivar. And certainly you looked like a bride last night.’

  The slight quiver of her shoulders gave her away.

  ‘Well, is the rumour true?’ he pressed.

  ‘No,’ she said unhappily. ‘The rumour is not true.’ The moment she had dreaded was upon her. And now for the big lie, the one she must make Ramon del Mundo believe.

  She dropped her head. ‘Oh, I must tell you the truth, Ramon,’ she whispered. ‘You were right about me. I do love Don Diego. I had thought Kells was dead, but now he is back and if he were to go free, he would find a way to come for me, to seize me - not all the guns of El Morro would keep him from me!’

  ‘I would keep him from you,’ he said mockingly.

  ‘Ramon, you could not! You do not know him!’ She twisted her hands together, hoping he would believe her.

  ‘Perhaps I should keep you here,’ he challenged. ‘For your safety!’

  ‘Oh, Ramon, I know you could hol
d me here,’ she said on a note of soft appeal. ‘But I hope you will allow me to return home and call upon the governor on my behalf. There might not be clemency . . .’

  She knew there would not be. He knew it, too. But neither of them spoke of that.

  Instead she said pleadingly, ‘I may have no future, but by your charity I would spend this last night with Don Diego.’ Her eyes were misty. ‘Good-by, Ramon.’

  She turned to go but his light laugh shocked her. She stiffened, turned back to face him.

  ‘What an actress you are!’ he said admiringly. He reached out, caught her hand, and held it lazily. ‘Querida,’ he said softly. ‘I had already guessed your secret. The resemblance did not escape me, even though I chose to arrest the wrong man. I know who the real Kells is.’

  A great stillness fell over the room. Carolina’s head lifted and her eyes were calm. There was no longer any need to dissemble. Now at last was the time for truth.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You know and I know. But Kells does not know. He is a man of fierce loyalties. When he was an Englishman his loyalty to England was unshakable. Now that he believes himself to be a Spaniard he is just as loyal to Spain. I told him who he really is - and he forbade me to speak of it. Oh, Ramon.’ Her voice was wistful. ‘All I wanted was to give him back his world, the life he once knew. But it seems that all I can ever give him is unhappiness. To him I am a heretic and a buccaneer’s woman.'

  To a godless buccaneer, she was a heretic! And a buccaneer’s woman indeed - his woman, that very buccaneer’s! At another time Ramon del Mundo, man of the world, could have found humour in her recital. But today, looking into that beautiful lost face, he could find no laughter in his heart - only tears.

  ‘He has done me the honour to fall in love with me twice - once as Kells and once as Don Diego.’ She tried to smile and almost succeeded. ‘But I wrecked his life once and I will not wreck it again!' Her voice had gone fierce. ‘So tomorrow morning I am going to swear before all the world that the Marquess of Saltenham is really Kells, and who will not believe it? When the accusation comes from the Silver Wench of Port Royal! And Kells goes free and the marquess, who brought him to this pass, can take his chances.’