She smiled at them. Which is to say, she arranged her
features to widen her mouth and show her teeth. It was a small mouth, somewhat tightly lipped when in repose, and looked the smaller because her face itself was broad, and shaped like the most perfect heart, dwindling from a high, clear forehead to a pointed, thrusting chin. It was not a beautiful face, and not even a handsome face, but it possessed a great deal of strength, which in turn gave it a beauty of its own—Edward was reminded of what Sir Walter Raleigh had said of Queen Elizabeth. And if she was nervous she did not show it.
While that she would be worth possessing was no longer to be doubted. Even the huge falling band could not entirely conceal the swelling flesh beneath, n
o doubt th
rust upwards by her corsets, for her waist was sucked flat, and her complexion was as clear as Aline's had ever been. Her hair was dressed in the fashionable ringlets from the bun on the back of her head.
'My eldest son, Edward,' Tom was saying.
Again the quick smile. She extended her hand.
‘I
have heard so much about you, Edward.'
He held the pale blue lad glove, gazed into her eyes with stupefaction.
'You'll have a kiss for your new mother,' she suggested, and presented her cheek.
His lips touched the soft flesh, and he was enveloped in a perfume he had not experienced since Aline.
‘
You have few words,' Lady Warner remarked.
‘I
like a man of few words. My name is Anne, Edward. I'd not have you call me mother. I doubt there is more than five years between us. And this will be Philip.'
'Ma'am,' Philip said.
‘I
'd have recognized you anywhere.'
'Susan Hilton, M'am. I am Mr Hilton's wife.'
Anne
Warner
inspected the Irish girl. 'You should be confined, my dear.'
'Yarico,' Tom said. 'You'll remember, Yarico.'
Anne Warner smiled at the
Indian
girl's naked body.
‘I
must thank you, princess, for looking after my husband in his hou
r of need. And this is your son?
" Her gaze drooped to li
tt
le Tom for the briefest of seconds.
‘
You are to be congratulated.' She glanced at Aline, who had flushed the colour of a beetroot.
'Mademoiselle Aline Galante,' Edward said. 'She is the only survivor of the French colony.'
‘I
ndeed,' Anne Warner said.
‘I
wonder she has managed to make ends meet.'
‘I
would hear about these French and their treachery,' Tom said.
Anne Warner was regarding the Irishmen. 'And these?
’
'Our Irish lads. Presently playing soldiers.'
'And intending nothing less, Captain Warner,' Connor said.
'By God,' Tom said. 'Mutiny? You have twenty-four cannon directed at you, Brian. You'd do well to brood on
that
. But well have a discussion, soon enough.'
Anne Warner had walked up the beach to look at the blackened timbers of the town.
‘I
had not suspected such total destruction, Sir Thomas.'
‘It
seems every time I leave this place it falls apart,' Tom grumbled.
‘I
shall not do so again. This time I am home to die, eh, sweet?
’
'Not for a few years, Sir Thomas, I do trust,' she said, continuing to inspect the wreckage. 'But I wonder you have the desire to start again.'
‘I
have that, sweet. This is our land. Warner land. Well build again, by God. For our children and grandchildren. Oh, aye, there's much to be done.' He stamped back down the beach to where the first of the horses were being disembarked, whinnying and squealing.
'Horses?' Edward asked in amazement.
'And why not? They're a sight be
tt
er than humans, when it comes to labour. Because we're going to have a road, boy. I've planned it. A road from Sandy Point across to Windward. No more surprises from that quarter.' He glanced at his son. 'Well sit down to a conference, when the heat leaves the sun. We've much to discuss.'
It took place on the beach, as all of their conferences had always taken place on the beach. Tom sat with his wife on his right hand, and Major Harry Judge on his left. 'Harry has been a soldier all his life, by God,' he announced at large. 'He'll know how to help us here, to hold and to build. He knows discipline, by God.'
Beyond Judge sat Tony Hilton and his wife, and then Edward and Philip, while completing the circle, between Philip and Anne Warner, was the Reverend Sweeting.
'Not you, Brian Connor, not you,' Tom had cried as the Irishman would have taken his place.
‘I
've a right to speak my mind,' Connor growled.
'Aye,' Edward said. They have a part to play, and not as servants.'
‘I
ndeed?" Tom demanded.
‘I
have heard too much about the part they have played. I'll call on you, Connor. When the time comes.'
Connor retired, mu
tt
ering, to join his fellows; they still wore their armour and clutched their weapons. But they were aware just how futile was this gesture. Although the sun was se
tt
ing low into the western horizon, cu
tt
ing across the calm sea like a gigantic beacon, the work went on in Great Road. Men and women and children, horses and dogs, goats and pigs, barrels and boxes; St Ki
tt
s had returned to life.
'St Ki
tt
s?' Tom Warner asked
. 'Now there is a ridiculous titl
e.'
'Merwar's Hope was unlucky,' Hilton said bluntly. 'Maybe it was. Maybe ... St Ki
tt
s. By God, it comes easily off the tongue, would you not say, sweet?
’
' Tis your colony, Sir Thomas.'
‘
Why, by God, so it is. Now then, well deal with first things first. You
’
ll understand that Hal Ashton and Will Jarring and the Reverend Mailing regained England without loss, or at least, without such loss as can always be expected in a journey of that sort. They made no good report of you, Edward.'
'Am I then on trial?
’
'Only in a manner of speaking. I was then fi
tt
ing out, and asked them to return with me, and they refused. They had had enough of beachcombing, they said. Beachcombing, by God. It was not long after that Tony himself dropped anchor in Plymouth. And
he had a different tale to tell
of how Hal's
tyranny and Mailing's downright popery had driven you to despair. Word against word. But Tony was willing to fit and return with us. And
indeed, he was easily secured in the governorsh
ip of Nevis, so winningly did he present himself to His Majesty. So I must needs reserve judgement. Now I would have you tell me straight, what happened in my absence.'
Edward glanced at Hilton, who was gazing into his wine cup, and then at Philip, who had flushed scarlet. 'Why, to say the absolute truth, Father, my resentment at having been excluded from the governorship grew until I sought to seize what I thought had been denied me.'
'By God,' Tom said. 'You admit to mutiny? By God, sir....'
'Hear the boy out, I beg of you, Sir
Thomas,' Anne Warner said, softl
y.
‘I
thank you, madam,' Edward said. 'My conception was of taking the leadership by force, Father, as
I knew of the discontent in
Sandy Point, and I had no wish to watch Hal Ashton a
tt
empting to cope with a revolution. I desired no bloodshed, nor would I have any. When it was obvious that the majority of the popula
tion would not support me I sur
rendered myself, after negotiating for the release of Tony and his people.'
This does not tally with your tale, Tony,' Tom remarked.
'Before we left I was granted a full pardon by the acting governor.' But Hilton's face was angry.
'Ashton admi
tt
ed that. It would appear that every word he spoke was nothing more than the truth. And we parted on bad terms because I supposed he was but presenting his side of the ma
tt
er. Truly, I am sometimes distressed at the deceit with which I am surrounded. Well, boy, you surrendered at discretion. Have you any reason to offer why I should not hang you on the instant?"
'Sir Thomas,' Anne Warner exclaimed.
' Tis the authorized punishment for mutiny.'
'But you cannot, Father,' Philip protested. "You do not know the whole of the ma
tt
er.'
‘I’l
l conduct my own defence, Philip,' Edward said.
‘If
you will be good enough to act as my witness. Aye, Father, I surrendered at discretion. But when the French fleet arrived, Hal was quick enough to resign the governorship, which he placed on my shoulders. He then elected to evacuate the colony, leaving it entirely to Monsieur Belain. I chose to remain, with Philip and my stout Irishmen over there, to make sure that Warner's land remained in the possession of the Warners. And when the Dons came, and Belain left in a hurry, it was those very Irishmen and ourselves who fought them and made this island too uncomfortable for them to stay.'
'By God,' Tom said. 'By God.'
'And this is why I say, whatever our differences, and there have been many, those Irish have deserved the right to be treated as be
tt
er than slaves.'
'By God,' Tom said again. 'Brian Connor, you'll have been listening, I have no doubt.'
The Irishman approached.
‘I
have, your honour, and Master Edward has spoke nothing but the truth. We fought for ye, sir. At the least, we fought for your son. And now ye have your colony back. And more than one of me friends have died for that. Terry Yeats and...' he glanced at Yarico. 'Paddy O'Reilly.'
'Yet it is still a problem. Not of labour. I have made other arrangements for that. But we cannot have papists and the like running free to disrupt the life of the colony.'
Then give us a ship, Sir Thomas,' Connor said.
'What? To go pirating?'
'No, sir,' Connor said. 'We want nothing more than that overgrown pinnace ye have th
ere. It will take us to Montser
rat.'
'Montserrat? By God, man, you'll be wanting to make a Carib feast?"
We have talked with the
Indian
women, sir,' Connor said. 'Montserrat is not inhabited. And we have looked at those green peaks too often from here. But
allow us to go, and take the thr
ee girls with us, sir, and we'll trouble you no more.'
'Will the girls go with you, Brian?' Edward asked.
‘I
'd not force them.'
'Nor would we, Ted. But they followed Yarico
and yourself because it is th
eir nature to accept authority. Now there's naught for them here. We'd offer them a good life. Why, sir, grant us the permission and well acknowledge ourselves to be a colony of St Ki
tt
s, subject to your ultimate jurisdiction, so long as we can practise our religion in peace.'
'By God,' Tom said.
‘It
would not be approved in Whitehall.'
'And yet, Father, it is the dream you first possessed,' Edward said.
'And of spreading across these islands, by God. Brian
, you've fought for my land; I’ll
give you yours. And I'll lend the weight of my authority to your right arm, because by God you'll need it, if I understand those rapscallions at your back.'
'Aye, sir,' Connor said.
‘I’
ll lick them into shape, Sir Thomas.'
'Be sure that you do.' Tom stood up. 'Mr Connor is your leader,' he said to
the Irish, who had assembled in
a group just beyond the fire. 'Appointed by me, by God, and answerable only to me. My magistrate... no, by God, my deputy, in Monts
errat. Brian Connor, you'll be j
ust deputy governor of Montserrat. Take your people and the girls, and depart as you are ready. But mark me well. You'll work for yourselves, but you'll work, by God. I'll h
ave an inspector over there every six months, and I’ll
want to see t
obacco growing and houses build
ing. You understand me, Brian?"
‘I
understand ye, sir.' Connor turned to Iris people. 'We're free, boys.
Freer than ever before in our li
ves. Who
’
ll give three cheers for the Governor, now?"
They responded with a will, and the beach echoed with their shouts.
'So I am grateful to you,' Tom said. 'Now be about your preparations and leave us to our affairs.' He sat down.
‘
You'd have them grow tobacco, Tom?" Judge asked.
‘It
would be best. They have neither the labour nor the knowledge for sugar.'
'Sugar?' Edward asked.
'Sugar cane. Oh, tobacco is all very well. But it requires too much are
a to return but a small profit a
nd each crop has to be replanted. Now cane, boy, why, 'tis in the first place planted closer together, and in the second, each plant throws off li
tt
le shoots, called ratoons, which can be used time and again, maybe up to a dozen or more years. Why, 'tis said that the Dons have taken sixteen ratoons from a single plant'