Far From Home (9 page)

There came a discreet tap on the door and he called, ‘Come in.’ The boy entered holding a tray with a silver teapot, milk jug and sugar bowl and a china cup and saucer.

‘Señora Sofia said to bring you English tea.’ He grinned, his teeth white in his dark skin. ‘She said it was what all English people have at this time of day.’

‘How kind of her,’ he said, relaxing a little. I must thank them, he thought, and take my leave or they might not ask me again.

Señora Sofia, however, did not appear to be in a hurry for his departure when he presented himself, but asked him to sit down with her in the drawing room. ‘Are you rested, Meester Newmarch?’ she asked. ‘I think that our ways are not the same as yours. You do not take – what you call it? – a nap – in the afternoon?’

‘Only the elderly.’ He laughed. ‘But then our climate is not so hot that it makes us tired, and our evenings are cold so that we don’t walk out, or
promenade
as you do here, but tend to stay indoors at home; or perhaps the gentlemen might go to their clubs.’

She made little tutting noises. ‘So, you think you will like it here when it is so different?’

He gazed at her. She really was very beautiful. Rodriguez was a very lucky fellow to have such a wife. ‘I’m sure that I will,’ he said softly. ‘There is much that I find very attractive.’

She lowered her lashes, then lifted them to gaze at him from fathomless eyes. ‘You must of course be careful that you mix with the right people. There are some ruffians here who might take advantage of you, being new to the country.’

He nodded. ‘Have you always lived in New Orleans, señora?’

‘Since my marriage to Sancho,’ she said. ‘I am – was – Mexican. There was much fighting between the Mexicans and the Americans and then the Spaniards. It was difficult to know who to follow and it was very dangerous for a woman, especially a woman with a young child.’

‘What happened to your husband?’ he asked. ‘Your first husband, I mean?’

‘He died,’ she said simply. ‘Sancho killed him.’

Edward felt a cold shiver down his spine. There had been, he thought, an iciness running through Rodriguez. Not a man to cross.

‘Brown was not a good man,’ she said, ‘but it was not all his fault. He had bad blood. His mother was a slave and his father was a cotton farmer. His father used to beat all his slave children so Brown ran away when he was only a boy and that is when I met him.’

Edward was fascinated. He owned shares in a cotton mill in Hull. Who would have thought that so much could happen before the cotton reached the mill?

‘He was not a good ’usband, he used to beat me and so I ran away with my child, Elena.’ She smiled. ‘And I met Sancho. He was a soldier and he protected me from the other soldiers.’ She shrugged. ‘It is easy for a soldier to take a woman but ’e was ’onourable and kept me safe. Then Brown found out where I was. He was taking me back wiz ’im but Sancho found out and came after us. He killed Brown with a single shot.’

Edward swallowed hard and determined that not under any circumstances would he flirt with Señora Rodriguez.

‘So I was a widow,’ she said softly, gazing at Edward. ‘But then Sancho and I were married. Now of course,’ she went on, in an almost absent-minded way, ‘we must find a suitable ’usband for Elena. She is not beautiful like her sister Sibella, but she has many qualities. She is intelligent and she has a sense of humour which is sometimes rare in a woman.’

She lifted her eyes to his and to his amazement she put her small hand over one of his. ‘She will make a good wife for someone, do you not think so, Meester Newmarch?’ She gave him a soft beguiling smile. ‘And she will be very rich.’

Edward cleared his throat and wondered how he could withdraw his hand without offending. He gently squeezed her fingers and murmured, ‘I’m quite sure that there will be many suitors enchanted by her, señora.’

There came a tap on the door and Edward rose to his feet as Rodriguez came in. ‘Ah, señor.’ Edward greeted him. ‘I am about to depart.’ He gave a small bow. ‘May I thank you for your very generous hospitality. I trust that I have not stayed overlong?’

‘Not at all.’ Rodriguez held his gaze for a second, then it flickered to his wife. ‘You are more than welcome. In fact, tomorrow we are holding a supper party for a few guests and we would be delighted if you would join us. At about eight o’clock?’

Edward thanked him, accepted and took his leave, finding his hired chaise waiting at the door and a boy holding the reins of the mare. He tipped him an English sixpence and vowed to visit a bank and exchange some money. English currency is no longer any use to me, he thought. I’m in America to stay. It suits me very well.

His thoughts turned to Ruby as he drove back to the hotel. How would she have fitted in here? Would she have been able to talk to these wealthy people and visit them in their splendid opulent houses? Or would she have been overcome with embarrassment? Dear, darling Ruby. How I miss you.

He had realized how much he yearned for Ruby as he sat with the beautiful, desirable, but unattainable Sofia. How he longed to have Ruby’s soft and yielding body next to his, but no, dear girl, he sighed as he pulled into the front of his hotel. You wouldn’t have fitted in at all. If I am going to get anywhere in this country, then I am going to have to do it alone, at least until I get established.

‘Allen! Allen! Where the devil are you?’ Edward threw down his coat and called. Though his bed had been made by the hotel servants, his clothes had not been put away and there was no sign of Allen. He opened the communicating door into his valet’s room and found him lying on his bed. His face was flushed and the hair around his forehead and neck was wet.

‘Are you ill?’ Edward asked sharply. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

Allen turned towards him on hearing his voice. ‘Sorry, sir.’ He attempted to rise but fell back on his pillow. ‘I – I feel terrible, sir. My throat,’ he rasped, ‘and my head.’

Edward backed away. ‘I hope it isn’t contagious! I don’t want to catch it. I have a supper engagement tomorrow. Who’s going to press my shirt?’

Allen shook his head. ‘I just need a couple of hours’ rest, Mr Newmarch,’ he croaked. ‘I’ll be all right by the morning.’

But he wasn’t and Edward sent down for someone to clean his shoes and wash and press a shirt and trousers, and to bring Allen a jug of cold water to assuage his thirst.

‘This is not on,’ he muttered. ‘The fellow is supposed to be looking after me.’ He breakfasted alone in the dining room, any other hotel guests evidently having risen early and gone about their business. I’ll take a walk, he thought, familiarize myself with the surroundings. If I like it I might stay here for a while. I’m sure that Rodriguez will have good contacts. He could perhaps guide me into some kind of profitable line without too much demand on my time.

He wandered on foot towards the levee, admiring the ivy-clad stately houses which were half hidden at the top of long gravel drives, their classic marble pillars guarding entrances to a splendour he could only dream about. But also, as he wandered, he found shanty housing along muddy lanes and alleys where he dared not proceed. He clutched his watch and chain and hurried on to a more amenable area.

A large man of indiscriminate race approached him and offered to take him for a boat ride along the river. ‘Show you the crocs, sir, and the swamps. Ain’t like anything you’ve seen before. You’ll be quite safe, ain’t no worry ’bout that.’

‘Thank you, no.’ Edward backed away. ‘I have an appointment. Just killing time. Must be off!’

The man grinned and turned away. ‘Get you another time? Yes, sir.’

Edward hurried off and followed the road down towards the river. A ship had just docked and passengers were coming down the gangboard on unsteady legs. He was reminded of the time when he had watched a ship in the Hull docks unloading passengers so that they might stretch their legs before continuing their journey to America. It was this very scene which had implanted the idea that he too would like to sail to a new life, away from the petty restrictions and conventions of England.

But he had not reckoned on Ruby refusing to travel with him. She was not willing to trade her familiar life, poor though it was, to go with him to new adventures. She didn’t trust me, he mused, as he gazed at the activity on board ship. That was what it was. She probably thought that I would abandon her. Take your wife, she said. He gave a grim inward laugh. Take your wife! As if May would travel to a foreign land! She’s so rooted in tradition that the very idea would be abhorrent to her. Pah! I know not one single Englishwoman who would leave home and family to travel abroad and seek a new life. Not one. Not even those who profess to want their freedom and independence.

He turned away and headed back for the hotel, trying to dismiss the sensation of loneliness which was washing over him.

Allen had made an effort to get up but he looked ill. He could hardly stand and he clutched his hand to his sweating forehead. Edward berated him and told him to go back to bed. ‘For God’s sake, Allen. I’ll manage.’ The washed and ironed shirt and trousers were hanging neatly on the wardrobe door and his black boots had been polished. ‘You’re not indispensable, you know! Get some rest.’

He turned to go downstairs for luncheon. ‘Shall I send up some food?’

Allen shook his head and tried to speak. ‘Water,’ he croaked. ‘I’m on fire.’

Edward studied him thoughtfully. ‘I think we’d better have a doctor look at you.’

The doctor, a Frenchman, when he finally came late afternoon, pronounced that Allen had malaria. ‘He is lucky that it is not yellow fever,’ he said to Edward. ‘Otherwise it is
mort
for him. Give ’im this quinine; it is bitter but ’e must take it or he die.’

‘Will I get it?’ Edward asked in alarm.

The doctor raised his hands in a Gallic gesture at the futile question. ‘’
Ow
do I know? The mosquito, ’e is everywhere. Wear your ’at, keep under the net at night.’ He gave a pinched smile. ‘The mosquito, ’e likes English blood: it is thin and very tasty. Much better than Creole or Indian blood.’

He gave Edward his bill and waited. ‘You may pay me now, please,’ he said. ‘Foreigners do not always stay ’ere; they go on to look for gold and forget to pay their bills before they leave.’

Edward, rather huffy at having his honesty questioned, opened his pocketbook. ‘I only have English money,’ he said. ‘I haven’t been to the bank yet.’

‘It ees better than nothing.’ The Frenchman took a sovereign from him and looked at it disdainfully. ‘But be advised. Change your money. You are not in England now.’

Edward left Allen sleeping and asked the hotel clerk for directions to the nearest bank. He had bills of credit with him and various papers for proof of identity.

‘Glad to welcome you to New Orleans, Mr Newmarch.’ The manager of the bank was most effusive when he realized how much money Edward was changing. ‘Are you planning on staying awhile?’

‘No plans made as yet.’ Edward put some of the money in his inside coat pocket, some in his trouser pocket and the rest in his pocketbook. ‘Just having a look around, you know.’

‘You do right to separate your money.’ The manager nodded approvingly. ‘Can’t be too careful. There are some blackguards about. Take my advice. If you’re playing cards or dice, only use the money in your pocket, don’t bring out your pocketbook.’

This was the second warning Edward had had, but he was inclined to dismiss it. Apart from the shady-looking fellow who had offered him a boat ride, everyone else had seemed very friendly and honest. Even people just passing by had wished him good day with a smile or a nod. Nevertheless, he walked swiftly back to the hotel, jauntily swinging his cane and keeping his coat buttoned.

Allen was up when he returned and said he felt a little better. The shivering had subsided and his face had taken on a more normal colour than the flushed complexion he had had previously. He was still weak, however, and Edward suggested that after he had gone out, Allen might as well go back to bed.

‘I’ve been invited out to supper at the Rodriguez’ house,’ he said, as he buttoned up his shirt and Allen gave a desultory polish to his shoes, ‘so I might be late.’

‘Is this a social occasion, sir?’ Allen asked. ‘Or are you hoping to come across some venture to interest you?’

‘I must admit that I am looking for something of the sort.’ He held up his chin as Allen fastened his cravat. ‘At the luncheon yesterday I met Rodriguez’ family. His beautiful wife, his mother and two daughters. The younger daughter is as lovely as her mother, the other plain as can be and utterly graceless, and they’re looking for a husband for her.’

He glanced in the mirror and brushed his fingers over his sideburns. ‘I doubt they’ll find one, even though she apparently will come with a large dowry. She’s not Rodriguez’ daughter. She’s quadroon, but she hasn’t got that lovely skin colour which they often have. She’s got her grandmother’s blood, I reckon. But apart from that, she’s sulky, arrogant and quite without any decent manners.’

‘Perhaps she’s been compared too often with her mother and sister, sir?’ Allen suggested.

‘Maybe so.’ Edward shrugged into his coat. ‘But I pity some poor fellow who is persuaded to marry her.’

Allen glanced at him. ‘That’s not why you’ve been invited, sir?’

Edward turned sharply. ‘What? What do you mean?’

Allen bit his lip. ‘Well, you’re eligible, sir. Or – at least they think you are.’ He picked up a clothes brush and started to brush the back of Edward’s coat.

Edward put up his hand to stay him. ‘Captain Voularis told them I was a widower,’ he muttered. ‘And I didn’t correct that impression.’ He stared at Allen. ‘Is that why he told them? Does Voularis get a fee for introducing suitable bachelors?’

He sat down suddenly on the bed. ‘My God! She’s mine if I want her. And I don’t! No matter how much money she brings with her.’

‘And you are a married man, sir,’ Allen reminded him.

Edward nodded. ‘I am, that is true. But I can’t tell them that now, can I? My reputation would be ruined!’

Allen held back a weary sigh. All he wanted was to go back to bed. Newmarch had a habit of getting himself into a fix. First with the girl Ruby, and now with this Rodriguez family.