Marigold Chain (42 page)

Sealing the
last letter, he contemplated the thought, by no means new, that he
had made a complete botch of the whole affair in a way that not
only showed a lack of back-bone but also made him wonder what had
happened to his so-called artistry. Except, of course, that it
wasn’t easy to make pretty speeches when one was in deadly
earnest.

The door-bell
rang and Mr Deveril swore gently beneath his breath, hoping that
his visitor, whoever it was, would not stay long. Then the doors
opened and Mr Beckwith walked in.

‘
Good,’
he said. ‘I hoped I might find you at home.’

Alex stood up,
smiling.

‘
Well,
it’s always nice to be wanted,’ he replied lightly and then
stopped, his eyes resting narrowly on his friend’s face. ‘Sit down.
You look as if you need a drink.’

Giles dropped
his hat on the table and seated himself on a high-backed chair
while he watched Alex pour a glass of burgundy. He said, ‘I haven’t
much time. But I thought you’d like to know that Simon is still
alive and aboard a ship, about to embark on a new career as a
bond-servant in the Caribbean.’ He took the glass that Alex handed
him but made no move to drink. ‘Vine is still in the Tower and, in
all probability, they’ll tactfully forget about him. I take it you
haven’t seen the King yet?’

‘
No.’
Alex sat down and eyed him thoughtfully. ‘I suppose I must go
tomorrow. How did York take it?’

Giles frowned
into his glass as if concentration was difficult.

‘
As you’d
expect. He blustered his way through the full gamut of emotions and
ended by feeling sorry for himself.’ He glanced across at Alex.
‘You’re not drinking?’

‘
No.’ A
transient smile touched the sculpted face. ‘Not
tonight.’

There was
a long pause, then Mr Beckwith said expressionlessly, ‘That’s a
pity. I thought you might like to wish me
bon voyage
.’

The light gaze
widened suddenly. ‘You’re going somewhere?’

Giles gave a
wry smile and drank his wine. ‘Yes. I’m sailing from Gravesend at
dawn.’

‘
For
where?’

‘
Jamaica.’

The word
exploded between them.

‘
Jamaica?
’ asked Alex incredulously. ‘What the
hell for?’

Mr Beckwith
shrugged. ‘The same reasons that take a mercenary anywhere.’

‘
That
wasn’t what I meant and you know it,’ replied Alex. ‘Why go at
all?’

‘
Because,’ said Giles, with an effort that was beginning to
show, ‘I’ve been appointed Simon’s official escort to Port Royal.
I’m to get him there in one piece and give a full explanation to
Governor Modyford.’

‘
In which
case,’ said Alex blandly, ‘you won’t be staying.’

‘
Why not?
I’d like to recover my skills but don’t particularly want to sell
my sword to a foreign power and this seems a reasonable solution.
There’s a Welshman, Henry Morgan, who is making something of a name
for himself out there and to whom I’m to deliver letters from the
King. His exploits are no more piratical than were Rupert’s during
the Commonwealth and the rewards are rich – so you might call it a
career of sorts.’

‘
A
career,’ said Alex sardonically, ‘amidst all the outcast scum of
Europe? I can’t think of anything that would suit you less. So I’ll
ask again. Why Jamaica?’

Giles set his
glass down with unnecessary violence.

‘
Because,’ he snapped, ‘it’s about as far away from England
as I can get.’

Alex surveyed
him through narrowed eyes.

‘
And why
would you want to do that?’

‘
Various
reasons – none of which concern you.’

‘
They do
if they’re going to be the cause of you ending up stuck like a pig
in some stinking Port Royal pot-house,’ responded Mr Deveril
caustically. ‘Don’t be an ass, Giles. I may play merry hell with my
friends from time to time – but do you honestly think I’m going to
wave a cheery farewell without at least trying to
understand?’

Mr Beckwith
stood up and picked up his hat.

‘
I
appreciate that you mean well – but I’m afraid that, in this
instance, the only service you can do me is to take my hand and
wish me a safe journey. My reasons, even if I explained them,
wouldn’t help either of us.’

‘
Try me.
I might surprise you.’

‘
I think
not.’ The grey eyes were hard. ‘My mind is made up and I’ve a barge
waiting at the Irongate Stairs. The only way you can stop me is by
laying me out and I don’t recommend that you try it.’

‘
I don’t
intend to,’ Alex replied mildly. ‘It would take all night and
reduce the furniture to matchsticks. A pointless exercise and Chloë
wouldn’t like it.’

Giles’ lost
what little colour he had. ‘Are you going to divorce her?’

The dark brows
soared. ‘Why do you ask that?’

There was a
tiny pause and then, ‘I just wondered if you were thinking of
filling Graham Marsden’s shoes.’

Alex frowned.
‘Hardly.’

‘
And
Chloë?’

‘
Will
remain my wife,’ he said. And thought,
‘I
hope.’

Mr Beckwith’s
fingers clenched on the brim of his hat.

‘
That
will be nice for her. Does she know?’

A faint flush
stained Mr Deveril’s cheeks.

‘
What the
hell
is
this? My relationship
with Chloë is none of your business … but you surely can’t have
thought I’d go back to Sarah?’

‘
What I
think doesn’t matter,’ replied Giles. ‘But since Sarah believed it
strongly enough to come here and tell Chloë that – ‘

‘
Stop!’
snapped Alex, startled. ‘She did what?’

‘
You
didn’t know?’

‘
No. Who
told you?’ The blue eyes were faintly dazed.

‘
Your wife
.’

It was the tone
rather than the words that gave it away but, before he realised it,
Alex said, ‘Chloe?’ And then, blankly, ‘Oh. That’s it, isn’t
it?’

Giles said
nothing. And Alex, who felt as if a bottomless pit had just yawned
at his feet, didn’t dare speak in case the words tipped him into
it.

After a long,
catastrophic silence, Giles said, ‘I should go.’

‘
No.’
Alex drew a harsh breath. ‘Does she know?’ And then, immediately,
‘Or no. Of course not. You’d never tell her.’

‘
And
neither will you.’

Mr Deveril’s
skin was entirely without colour. He said, ‘Perhaps you should. She
might … she might be glad.’

‘
She
won’t.’

‘
You
can’t know that.’

‘
Yes I can!
’ came the furious reply. ‘What are
you suggesting – that we let Chloe chose between us? What the hell
for? Do you honestly think that if she’d ever given the merest hint
of looking on me in that way I wouldn’t know it by now? And she’s
your wife!’

‘
But you
love her.’

‘
Yes. All
right - I love her. Now, for God’s sake, leave it.’

Alex said
flatly, ‘So do I.’

Caught in the
act of replacing his hat, Giles stopped short. ‘What?’

‘
I love
her too.’ He paused, then added, ‘But I don’t know if she’ll ever
return it.’

‘
Oh.’
Giles hesitated, put aside what Chloe had told him because it
wasn’t for him to reveal and, instead, said bitterly, ‘Well, at
least you’ve the right to tell her.’

‘
I
tried.’ Alex’s mouth twisted wryly. ‘I made a complete mess of it.
You’d have laughed.’

‘
I doubt
it. There’s very little in this that I find remotely
funny.’

‘
No. I
suppose not.’ Another pause. ‘So you’re leaving.’

‘
I am
leaving,’ snapped Mr Beckwith, ‘not because I’m in love with your
wife but because I won’t stay here to watch what happens next.
You’ll either sort out your marriage – or you won’t. That’s up to
you. But I’m going to Port Royal - and you’re going to forget we
ever had this conversation. Because, for all the good that’s come
of it, we didn’t.’

‘
I can’t
forget it,’ returned Alex simply, ‘because you’re not just my
oldest friend but also, possibly, a better one than I deserve. If
you weren’t, you wouldn’t be stepping aside like this.’

‘
Don’t
cast me in the role of a martyr,’ said Giles, finally putting on
his hat. ‘I’ve no taste for sackcloth and ashes. I’m merely doing
what needs to be done. And now I have to go or I shan’t make
Gravesend in time.’ Then he stopped, suddenly realising that,
whatever else lay between them at this moment, some of what Alex
had said was true. They had been friends for fifteen years and,
after tonight, might never meet again. He turned slowly and looked
across the room with a rueful, fleeting smile. ‘I’m sorry. It’s a
poor way to say goodbye, isn’t it?’

For an instant,
Alex gazed back grimly and then, crossing to his side, dropped a
hand on his shoulder. ‘So would any other be – but we’re not saying
it yet. I’m coming with you to Irongate. Unless you’d rather I
didn’t?’

Some of the
tension left Giles’ face and he flushed a little.

‘
God,
Alex – I’d welcome it.’

It was a little
after eleven as the two men quitted the house and set off for
Bankside and the bridge. For a long time neither spoke, then Mr
Deveril broke the silence and opened up a channel of light
conversation which lasted them all the way along Thames Street.
Then, as they started up Tower Hill, Alex said abruptly, ‘Do you
realise that if you’d suggested this a couple of months ago – crazy
scheme though it is – I might have gone with you?’

Mr Beckwith
glanced obliquely at him. ‘So what’s changed?’

‘
I have.’
He gave a brief laugh. ‘It’s ironic, don’t you think? Having wasted
five years in bitter resentment, Simon’s banishment means no more
to me than the end of a task I’d begun to find irksome. The truth
is that he was never important – nor even the house and land; and
the things that
do
matter
were always quite outside his reach.’

It was a full
minute before Mr Beckwith made any answer and his face wore a
curious expression, as though he were contemplating an absorbing
problem. Finally he said, ‘We each have our choices to make. Mine,
for the time being, is exile and has the merit of being as
temporary as I wish it to be. What of yours?’

They passed the
postern and then turned south towards the river. Alex smiled in the
darkness and said quietly, ‘Mine is for my lifetime … if she’ll
have me.’

Even more than
the words, his tone was an avowal and Giles at last fully
understood – and did not know if he was glad or sorry. He heard
himself say, ‘You said you made a mess of telling her. What went
wrong? Didn’t she believe you?’

‘
Not at
all. And I made such a fool of myself that she hit me over the head
and nearly knocked me senseless.’

‘
She
what
?’ Giles was
shaken by an unwilling laugh. ‘How?’

‘
With a
half-bottle of claret, if you must know.’ He paused, then said, ‘I
haven’t known how to tell her because, as with yourself, she’s
never offered me anything but friendship and I’m uncomfortably
aware of how little I’ve ever done to deserve anything
more.’

Mr Beckwith
wondered why Alex’s lack of conceit always managed to surprise him
and why it was suddenly so easy to believe him; and then realised
that it didn’t matter. He said, ‘If you’ll take a piece of advice
for once, you’ll start by undoing any harm Sarah may have done. And
then, instead of using twenty words where three would do, just say
it.’

They arrived at
Irongate on the stroke of midnight and at their feet the steps fell
gently away where the water lapped rhythmically against the side of
a barge, its lanterns lit and its oarsmen waiting.

‘
I’ll
try,’ agreed Alex. ‘And, if she’ll let me, I’ll do my best to look
after her.’

‘
You’d
better.’ Giles descended the steps and then, turning, smiled a
little and held out his hand. ‘You’re probably the most annoying
fellow I ever met - but I suspect I’ll miss you.’

‘
Bad
habits are always the hardest to break,’ said Alex, gripping the
outstretched hand. Then, ‘Don’t fall off the map, will
you?’

‘
Never.’
For a moment, grey eyes met blue and then Mr Beckwith stepped
quickly into the waiting barge. ‘Make my farewells to Chloë … but
don’t, whatever you do, give her my love,’ he said as the oarsmen
untied the ropes.

‘
If
that’s what you want.’ Alex looked down at him and smiled. ‘It’s
Boot and Saddle – or whatever the nautical equivalent is. Good
luck, Giles.’

The barge was
sliding away now, out into the current where it gathered speed.

‘
Au revoir
,’ called Giles in reply, his eyes on
the dark, diminishing figure on the steps. ‘Take care.’ And then,
since he could no longer see him, he turned his face to the east
and sat back, letting the barge carry him swiftly to the sea and
the start of a great journey.

*

For a long time
after the lights of the barge had vanished beyond his sight, Mr
Deveril remained on the steps, staring thoughtfully in the
direction it had taken. The wind was full on his face but he was
hardly conscious of it except to think that Giles would have a slow
ride to Gravesend. Time passed … and the clock of St Katherine’s
was chiming half past one before he finally stirred to go.