by Lara Blunte
One must always assume the worst about people, he thought; though he had been thankful to the men who had saved him, to Bernardo for “mending” him, he had no desire for his situation to be known. He thought of poor Heinrich, probably the best man he had met in a great while, lying dead on the ground. As the stitches on his neck smarted, he thought of what it was like to have one's throat cut only to be thrown like trash into a river. He would not soon forget.
The tiny town did not harbor him for long, just time enough for Dantas and D'Angelo to find Heinrich's money and leave. They would be frustrated not to find his stash, but eventually they would give up; they were impatient and had no control over their worst impulses. They would go to Salvador to spend money and celebrate what they had earned from their crime.
He managed to rent a thin, mangy horse and go back to the mud houses above the river, making sure that he was not being followed. The place was deserted and bore evidence of the frantic search for his diamonds: his house had been taken apart, with each single brick broken to make sure he had hidden nothing inside.
Heinrich's diamonds were gone, of course. He found his in the hiding place where he had left them, though the woods around it had also been searched: the ground had been dug up in several places, and tree trunks split.
But Gabriel would certainly not let the men who had tried to kill him and who had murdered Heinrich flourish. He shaved his head and grew a beard, and with his broken nose he was different enough that he might not be spotted in a crowd in Salvador by the assassins who wanted him dead. He did not go to Iaci; instead he lay low by himself. He knew that Dantas and D'Angelo were stupid enough to sell their diamonds in the city and stay there boasting about their riches.
He formed a plan to cause maximum havoc. First, he sent an anonymous letter to the authorities, informing them that D'Angelo had smuggled diamonds in his possession. If there was one thing the police would not ignore was information about men who were stealing from the crown.
The authorities found the diamonds at D'Angelo's quarters and promptly arrested him. As Gabriel suspected, D'Angelo denounced Chica's two brothers, hoping to get a more lenient sentence; they in turn believed that this was a plot by Dantas to keep the whole sum, and cut his throat on the spot.
Though the brothers tried to escape, they were caught and hung for murder. D'Angelo and Chica, who was considered an accomplice to the whole scheme, were sent to Angola to spend their life in a jail that was the closest thing to hell on earth. Gabriel thought they got what they deserved.
All the diamonds, except the ones now in his possession, were found and confiscated, as well as the money from what had already been sold. Gabriel imagined that at least some of the rocks ended up in the pockets of the police. The trail of greed that men left behind them only multiplied, it never ended.
It was hardly important to him whether or not D'Angelo or the brothers had spoken of the river bed in the mountains while trying to be absolved of the crime of smuggling. Gabriel would not be returning there; he had what he had set out to get.
He was not a fool, and did not sell his diamonds in Brazil. He boarded a ship to England and from there to Amsterdam and sold them there, where he did not expect to be killed for having them, or denounced to anyone, though nothing that people did would have surprised him anymore.
Then he returned to Brazil. Iniquity was everywhere, but there he would be in a vast country, and he would buy enough land to make it unlikely that he should meet anyone except the people he employed. He thought about bringing Iaci and Iara to live with him, and then realized that he did not want to be close to anyone, though the thought of the little girl tugged at his heart. He sent them a good amount of money instead, explaining that he would not go back to Salvador.
There was just one man whose company he would not mind: Bernardo. He wanted to pay him back for his kindness, now that he was in a less vulnerable position, and his agents did find the man, still going from one town to another on his mule. Asked whether he wanted a place to live, and permanent work, Bernardo had taken his pipe out of his mouth and said, “I will think about it.”
For three years Gabriel farmed his land, which was near the port of Paraty. He planted sugar cane, cotton, cocoa and coffee; then, unlike other landowners, he built mills, looms and abattoirs near Rio and Vila Rica so that his cows could be killed close to these main cities and arrive fresh at the market. He supplied two of the biggest populations in the country with the meat, sugar, leather and fabric that they craved, and a fortune in diamonds became a bigger fortune in land more quickly than he hoped.
It was exactly the sort of life that he wanted, exhilarating and physically tiring. At night he would sit in his house reading books that he had brought with him on his last trip, or playing a Portuguese guitar. He would sleep soundly, forgetting the nightmares that had haunted him. The next day he would wake up at four, drink his coffee, eat heartily, then climb on his horse and ride over his land. He would always stop to look at the sunrise.
It was a life without love, until he saw Clara across a room.
Like many other rich people in Brazil, he had contributed lavishly to cover the prince's expenses, and had been invited to Quinta da Boa Vista several times. It would have been better to stay away, he had thought, but he could not make himself conspicuous through eternal absence and silence, as that would only bring him more unwelcome attention, so he had eventually accepted the invitation.
His name had been under Pedro Tavares' eyes for months, on the list of people to be thanked, but Pedro had not connected Gabriel Maia to Gabriel Almada de Castro. Afterwards his wife called him an idiot for not realizing that it was the same man: did he not know the deceased Marquise's maiden name?
Pedro told his wife and daughter, "He was set down to receive a title, as the prince has been so prodigal with them here. He was going to be a Count, but he refused!"
"Refused!" Juliana's face had become dark red. "Who does he think he is? Always trying to do something different, only to stand out!"
Clara had stayed quiet at this, thinking that her mother would never understand a man like Gabriel. She loved him precisely because he was like no one else, and had no desire to stand out.
"In any case, the new titles in this place, given out to anybody..." Juliana made a face of disdain. "Maybe that is why he refuses, because his family is older than the prince’s."
Gabriel had known for a while that Clara was in Rio from letters that his brother sent. Manuel had stayed in Lisbon with the Marquis, who refused to leave his own country to the French as the mad queen, the prince ("a coward") and the other nobles ("poltroons") had done.
Manuel wrote about living under the arrogance of the French, though Gabriel thought it could hardly be greater arrogance than their father's. He also wrote about those who had stayed, and those who had left.
"Since you insist on living there you might be meeting your former paramour." Manuel had written, "Of course Pedro Tavares Moreira got into the first ship he could find; what would he be here, without Prince John? A fishmonger? A shoemaker? His lovely wife must have gone thinking there would be a whole new world of men on whom she might push Clara. She had become known as Não-Não here for saying no to too many suitors who ought to have been out of her reach. Apparently not one of them was rich and noble enough for mother and daughter. Considering how impoverished Europe is now, I am sure they will settle for a cattle rancher in Brazil, before the girl becomes as stale as old bread..."
Gabriel had long understood that his defiance of his father had as much to do with his own pride and stubbornness as love for Clara. He had also understood that she had been right in refusing him; she would have been able to bear the difficulties he had been through, and it would have been selfish and irresponsible of him to have brought her along.
He would have had to find a slower path to wealth so as to keep her with him, or left her behind alone in some inhospitable city as he hunted for diamonds. It still stung that she had s
o swiftly abandoned him when he had preferred to lose everything rather than forsake her, but he knew that it had been for the best.
Yet when she had crossed the room a few nights before to greet him, her face lit with joy, he had felt drawn to her again. She was lovelier than ever, since in the past four years she had known anxiety and hardship, and there was a new depth to her.
It was the frankness with which she had looked at him, as if she did not care what others thought, as if she did not even care whether he was angry, that had made him put down his guard. She had walked to him with a face so naked and full of emotion that he had immediately begun to love her again.
If he did not go to her house in the days that followed, it was because he did not know whether he could find room in his life for this overwhelming feeling. He had grown accustomed to being alone; he liked it. He thought that a man might make a life on his own, and depend only on himself and not on the unreliable emotions of others.
But the memory of bright black eyes that promised happiness sent him to her again, on the fifth day after the evening at the prince's.
He was well received by Pedro, and managed to ignore Juliana's somewhat tart expression and a tightly closed mouth that denoted doubt. He also felt doubt, after all.
At the end, it was again Clara who demolished his fears. His moments with her in the verandah of her home, watched from afar by one of the parents as they talked of nothing and everything, made her irresistible to him. There was a new scope to her mind, a courage in the face of change, a generosity towards others which she could not have feigned. And he had clearly seen that she loved Brazil, the home he had chosen.
One morning, returning with a smile on his lips to his rented house high above Guanabara Bay, Gabriel stopped and chided himself: Why are you smiling? Why do you love her again? Have you not learned that it is better to be alone?
Have you not understood?
However, the young man who still existed in Gabriel, eager to be happy, to share his life, to give and receive love, overcame the man who had had his throat cut and who had wanted nothing to do with other people anymore.
Clara was like the morning, waiting to bathe him in her light. Nothing could go wrong.
So he went back to her on the tenth day, and perhaps his new wealth had also won Juliana over. Perhaps, as Manuel had written, she was happy now to aim lower and marry Clara to a man of wealth and pedigree, even without a title. In any case, on that day Juliana was all beaming smiles as she led him to Clara, and he did not like her any better in this new unctuous form, but he assumed she would at least present no difficulty to their union this time.
This marriage proposal was different than the last one. He was quiet for a while, looking out at the garden from the verandah while Clara seemed to sense that he wanted to say something, and waited for him to speak.
Then he said, "I asked you to be my wife before. I do not resent that you refused me then─ I understand." He stopped and seemed to reflect before he proceeded. "I have come on the same mission and with the same offer, this time made by a man with the means to keep his wife as she deserves, and solve her troubles rather than adding to them."
"Oh, Gabriel!" Clara said softly, and her eyes filled quickly with tears.
He held one hand up, frowning. "You must know, however, that the life I have led has made it difficult for me to act with an open heart. I shall not seek or desire other people’s company. I could live and die as I am now, if it were not…” He stopped, and then he added, his face softening as he looked at her, “If it were not that I love you─ if it were not that I long to have you with me."
She was weeping now, with happiness, and it was hard for him not to touch her, but he must finish what he had to say, "I beg you to think that you shall be everything to me and I shall give myself to you completely. Think what it means to accept such a charge, because I have thought of it. To love and be loved is not just a privilege and a pleasure, it is also a burden."
"It doesn't matter what it is," Clara had replied, her face bathed in tears, her eyes tender and joyful at once. "I know even better than I did before that I can do nothing but love you, whatever it means, whatever comes."
The warning voice had not left his head, and he wondered if she understood him. But she had known troubles as well, and her abandon was such that he could no longer hold back. He said, taking her by the hand, "Then I ask you again, will you be my wife?"
Thirteen. Innocence
"More than a thousand contos!" Juliana exclaimed, her eyes as big as saucers, her smile ecstatic.
Her thin frame seemed to vibrate with energy and triumph. "You will be rich beyond our expectations," she told Clara. "Aren't you happy you waited, he is much richer now than if he had remained just the second son of the Marquis!"
"I am happy I waited," Clara said calmly, "because I love him more than ever. I have learned the value of titles and money, and it's nothing."
"What an absurd thing to say!" Juliana frowned, shaking her head. "You should unlearn such nonsense immediately. You are about to become a married woman, you will have children. Do you want them to know what it's like to have a head full of lice and no food?"
Juliana made the sign of the cross furiously three times, as if to avert such a possibility. But she was too happy to let her daughter's foolishness spoil things, and added, "Gabriel will accept a title eventually. His Highness will offer one again, considering all the money your betrothed gives him, and he will feel obliged to accept. Mark my words: no one is stubborn forever, and deep down it's what he longs for, to spite his father!"
The wedding was to take place three months after the proposal, the time Gabriel needed to prepare his house for Clara. In the meantime he showed her the old mansion of a rich gold merchant where he had been living in Rio. They would spend time there after the wedding, and then travel on to his estate.
As Juliana walked behind them inspecting the carpets, the furniture and the silver, Clara ran to the beautiful terrace overlooking the bay and the forest.
"I think," she said, moving out of her mother's sight, "that much as I like Rio, we had better stay as far away as possible."
There was a naughty smile on her face, and Gabriel pulled her to him, and for the first time he kissed her. It was a pressure of lips to lips that sent her heart thumping almost painfully.
He smells good, she thought. His lips feel nice.
They moved apart as they heard Juliana's determined heels on the wooden floors, and their first brief moment of intimacy was over.
"You will be married!" Paula exclaimed at her house over tea. "And to such a handsome man! I am so glad you will have your heart's desire! If anyone in the whole world deserves it, it's you!"
Clara put her head on her friend's shoulder. "If you knew how happy I am! I am so happy that I am scared, and don't like to talk about it!"
"You are like the Africans, thinking that some god will take things away from you if you don't pretend to be miserable!" Paula laughed. "We don't believe in a God so fickle, do we? You have had your share of trouble, and now you can rejoice!"
But as the preparations for the wedding went on and Gabriel returned to his land to furnish his house, Clara grew more superstitious. She often prayed under her breath, because she had become aware of the misery of too many people. The Market of Valongo and its terrible cruelty were still fresh on her mind, and the life of slaves and the poor were a great contrast to the one she was about to begin.
The weeks passed in an excruciatingly slow way, and finally the day of the wedding arrived.
The night before, as she sat in bed after praying, Clara was filled with a mixture of happiness and anxiety. She was to be married in the Church of Nossa Senhora da Gloria, which was almost a hundred years old and the favorite place of devotion for the mad queen and the pious prince.
As she could not sleep, Clara got up for the third time to look at her dress and caress her satin shoes. Juliana walked in with a determined look on her
face and made her daughter sit down, sighing as if under the weight of the whole world.
"Minha filha, it is the duty of a mother to speak of certain things. I must speak of what you may expect in your marriage, and especially tomorrow night."
Clara thought that she would prefer not to know, at least not from her mother. She was anxious enough about what the next night would hold in store for her, and had spent a great deal of time thinking about it. Her education in a convent and at home had done nothing to prepare her for life. She had only received the constant warning that men were terrible creatures, and she should never be alone with one.
But Gabriel's kiss had been so sweet!
"You will have a cross to carry," Juliana managed to say after a moment, looking heavenwards. "But you will be able to bear it, my dear."
She patted her daughter's hand with real sympathy.
Clara managed to ask, in a small voice, "Is it so awful?"
"It's a thing we must bear!" her mother repeated. "For the sake of having children. The children will make it all worth it!" Juliana stopped, looking for words. "It is a burden for any decent woman, but you must not avoid it, or he will find someone else! Men need it desperately, sometimes every day!"
Every day, something terrible! Or he would find another!
"Just keep your nightgown on!" Juliana added with her eyes open very wide. "He will want to see you, that is how men are, but your nakedness will only encourage him. You will find it a curse to be so beautiful. Once they start, they never want to stop!"
Clara hardly slept for a second that night, wondering in what ways exactly things would be awful. She wished she could run to Paula and ask her, but it was too late. It sounded as if her marriage bed would be a place of martyrdom!
However, morning came, and she must be ready; there was no time to think of anything.
When she had donned her white dress with satin stitching and silver embroidery, her white satin shoes and a dazzling lace mantilla, she thought that she was ready and needed nothing else, but her father entered with his hands behind his back.
