The Winding Stair (33 page)

‘You didn't see who it was?'

‘No. The acolytes were careful to keep his hood over his face as they carried him out. Gair, I'm frightened.'

‘I don't wonder. What happens if you are ill, Juana? If you really can't go down to let them in?'

‘I don't know. I always assumed my grandmother would go, but now she's not strong enough. Why?'

‘It's getting too dangerous. I don't want you to go down there again. Ask her if there is not some way out, some alternative arrangement.'

‘Gair, I can't. She's too ill; I can't worry her. Besides, if there had been one, she would have told me. And anyway, the nearer things come to a crisis, surely the more important it is that you know what they are doing. I'm terrified. I won't pretend I'm not. But I know I have to go.'

‘I suppose so.' He sounded curiously unconvinced, and her heart warmed to him. Did he really think the risk to her more important than the job to be done?

He bent towards her, suddenly the suitor. ‘Here comes your cousin.'

It was Vasco's first visit since the day he had proposed, and Juana was delighted to have Gair present. Vasco, on the other hand, looked far from pleased. ‘I took the liberty of this early call' – a look suggested that Gair's had been too early altogether – ‘to condole with you on your father's departure.'

‘Thank you.' She let him kiss her hand and noticed how much better he did it than Gair. They made an odd contrast altogether, she thought, as she listened to their limping, unenthusiastic
conversation about the news of the day. Even on this sweltering July morning, Gair was completely the elegant Englishman, contriving to look pale, cool and composed in blue broadcloth and high cravat. Vasco, on the other hand, a head shorter and very much more solidly built, had a deep and glowing tan and wore his well-cut clothes with an almost republican casualness. His shirt was open at the neck, with a silk scarf loosely tied, and he laughed, catching her eye on him, took out a silk handkerchief to mop his forehead, and apologised for behaving ‘quite like one of the family'.

‘Of course, cousin.' Gair was looking put out, she noticed with a little spurt of pleasure. ‘You'll both stay for dinner, gentlemen?'

Over coffee in the shady loggia, Vasco announced that he had taken a house at Sintra for the hot months. A quick look told Juana that this was done entirely for her sake, and indeed he rode over most days after that and she devoted immense ingenuity to avoiding being alone with him. To her relief, he seemed either not to notice or not to mind this. He was content, apparently, to sit on the loggia or terrace with her and her sisters, talking, or reading aloud to them in his fluent English as they sewed. It was extraordinarily domestic and peaceful, and occasionally Juana found herself actually wondering whether she could have imagined the scene in the Pleasant Valley. But, no. An occasional glance, a quick phrase, a pressure of the hand would remind her of what lay between them. ‘I shall wait,' he had said, and here he was visibly, peacefully, lovingly waiting.

He never stayed long. He was deeply occupied, he explained once, with legal business in connection with proving his legitimacy. ‘You know why I am so eager to have it proved beyond any shadow of doubt.' This, aside to her, one August morning was the nearest he came to a reference to the scene in the Pleasant Valley.

She was grateful for his restraint, but, she admitted to herself with a pang of surprise, a little frightened. There was something altogether too calm, too certain, about him. Like her sisters, who hardly referred to Pedro and Roberto but looked content as two cream-fed cats, he seemed to be biding his time.

But then, everyone was doing that. Napoleon's ultimatum to the Portuguese was public knowledge by now, and so too was the fact that no answer had been sent to it. Dom John was still at Mafra; the army, under Gomez Freire, was on
the coast. Nothing was said, nothing done as the hot August days ebbed away. Even the August meeting of the Sons of the Star seemed oddly inconclusive. Like everyone else, they were biding their time, waiting on events. Afterwards, Juana thought that perhaps the curiously negative tone of the meeting was partly due to the absence of the new Brother of the Silver Serpent who had not returned from his mission to Gomez Freire. Was he the only one with the courage to stand up to the new leader? In his absence, the meeting seemed, more than usually, merely to reflect decisions that had been taken already by some more powerful inner circle.

Expecting Gair, Juana was taken aback when Senhor Gonçalves called next day and asked, not for Mrs. Brett, but for her. When she joined him in the little room beyond the Ladies' Parlour which had somehow become her study, he came straight to the point. ‘Miss Brett, the French ultimatum expires in less than two weeks. On the first of September the French ambassador – and the Spanish one, since they have associated themselves with the French in this matter – will ask for their papers, and leave. After that, anything may happen … I must ask you whether you have come to a decision.'

‘What kind of a decision?' She was not going to make it easier for him.

‘Why – about yourself … the estate. Miss Brett, you must face facts.' He seemed to be having a hard enough time in doing so himself. Now he went off on a new tack: ‘The French will invade, you know, when the ultimatum expires. Then, to be English will mean imprisonment, death maybe; loss of property … Or look at it the other way: suppose Dom John gives in to the French demands. He may do so any day now. There's been no news from Mafra for a while. Today, tomorrow, any time may come his edict annexing English property to the state. Think of your family, if you won't think of yourself. I don't want to intrude on your private affairs, Miss Brett.' (He hovered uncertainly between the Portuguese and the English form of address.) ‘But we lawyers do tend to hear things. There's a cousin of yours – Senhor de Mascarenhas – Miss Brett' (suddenly he appeared to throw discretion to the winds) ‘I'll tell you everything. He came to see me yesterday. I've seldom been more impressed with a young man. It was all most proper; everything one could wish for. Since your father is in England, he said,
he had come to me. Your uncles – well, we all know about them. And your grandmother, of course, is old and ill. He wants you to know, not only that he loves you, which I believe he has told you himself, but something about his position. His claim is good, he proved it to me. He is de Mascarenhas, with all that implies. And as to fortune; I am empowered to tell you that his mother's estate has doubled under his management. He will be generosity itself, I am sure, in the question of settlements. He understands, you see, that you are an English young lady. There will be no difficulty about pin money or any of those curious English customs. And, don't you see: marry him and you are safe. No one can touch you.'

‘And the castle?'

He looked, surely, more embarrassed than ever. ‘The castle?'

‘If I marry Senhor de Mascarenhas, who will the Castle on the Rock belong to? After my grandmother's death, that is?'

‘But, senhora, how can you ask?'

‘I am asking, senhor.'

‘Man and wife are one flesh,' said the lawyer. ‘All they have is in common.'

‘Exactly. Senhor, I must think about this.' What was the use of marrying to save the castle for her family, if by doing so she merely handed it over to Vasco? Besides, the more she was urged to it, the more doubtful, illogically, obstinately, perhaps, she felt about marriage with Vasco. She tried to explain something of her doubts to the lawyer: ‘You see, senhor, for me it is so much more than just marrying. It is accepting a whole way of life. It is becoming Portuguese.'

‘But that is precisely my point.' He was holding on to patience with an effort.

‘I know.' She rose to her feet. ‘Senhor, I promise, I will think about it, hard, and send for you.' she must get rid of him. Gair might arrive at any minute to hear her report on last night's meeting.

In fact, he did not appear till next morning, when he arrived just in time to accompany her on her morning ride. ‘We're all at sixes and sevens in Lisbon,' he exclaimed. ‘Dom John has sent a confidential note to Lord Strangford advising that he tell any Englishmen who can do so to sell up and go. It's bad, Juana. I think I ought to urge you to go.'

‘But what about you?'

‘We'll stay till the last moment, of course. The navy will see that we get away. But we have diplomatic immunity. It's different for you.'

‘Don't forget that I'm half Portuguese.'

‘If you weren't, I'd put you on the next packet. But what happened at the meeting?'

‘Nothing much. The leader had it all his own way; partly because the Brother of the Silver Serpent wasn't there, I think. He's still on the coast with Gomez Freire.'

‘I see. Well, it looks as if we still have a breathing space to decide what's best for you.'

‘But you must see, I have no choice. It's not just a question of your business now. You brought me here, it's true, but now I am here, I'm committed. While my grandmother lives, I must stay – for her sake. And if she dies, there is the problem of the castle. Senhor Gonçalves was here yesterday. He wants me to marry a Portuguese.' She had thought she did not intend to tell him this. ‘They're all thinking of the castle. They don't want to lose it. I don't blame them. If only my grandmother hadn't left it to me. And Senhor Gonçalves says that even if I could persuade her to change her will he doesn't think it would be valid.'

‘She's as bad as that?'

‘I'm afraid so. And, Gair, it's so difficult. Do you mind if I talk to you about it? After all, you got me into this.' And there's no one else I can discuss it with. The thing is, if I decide to marry, for their sake, for the castle – how can I be sure it would work? I mean – you remember I told you, back last winter, that I intend to give it back to Pedro and Roberto. But – if I was married when I inherited it, would I be able to? Wouldn't it go to my husband? Wouldn't he be able to stop me?'

‘If he wanted to. Yes, I should think so. But, Juana, you mustn't think of sacrificing yourself like this. If it is a sacrifice?' A slight flush stained his cool, pale cheek.

‘I don't know. I don't seem to be able to make up my mind about anything. It's all such a muddle. There are so many people to think about. How can I fail them all?'

‘You should think of yourself. What do you owe them, after all? Your selfish uncles; your cousins who plotted to disgrace you – and that reminds me, has there been any word from Father Ignatius?'

‘No. I wish there had.'

‘I wish you were safe back in England. Juana—' He stopped. ‘There's someone coming up the hill. For God's sake, don't do anything without consulting me. I think it's your cousin Roberto. Juana—'

‘He's coming fast,' she warned. ‘I've not seen him since that night at the Princess's.'

‘Nor have I.' Whatever he had been going to say, he gave it up as Roberto approached them at a rapid trot. ‘Be careful, Juana.'

‘Of course.' But the greetings went off easily enough, although she thought Roberto seemed anxious, keyed up. ‘Teresa's very well,' she told him. ‘She's missed you. We all have.' She and Gair had turned to ride back to the castle with him but when they reached the gate Gair reined in his horse. ‘I must be getting back to Lisbon.' He settled back with an effort into his part of suitor. ‘I begged the morning off, Miss Brett, because I felt I must warn you, but my orders were to return as soon as I could. You'll think of what I have said,? I've been telling Miss Brett,' he explained to Roberto, ‘about your master's advice to the English.'

‘Quite so.' But Roberto looked puzzled. ‘Something very odd there,' he said to Juana as they dismounted.

‘What do you mean?'

‘Why, that I was Dom John's messenger to Lord Strangford. I've just come from Lisbon. Mr. Varlow wasn't there. How does he know about Dom John's warning?'

‘Goodness knows!' She made it casual, but felt a horrid little stab of doubt. Had Gair been lying to her? Was there no one she could trust?

‘There's probably some simple explanation.' Roberto dismissed it. ‘But it's not to talk about him that I'm come. Juana, I must see you alone.'

‘Oh?' Be careful, Gair had said. She looked about her. ‘It's cool here in the cloisters.'

‘You don't trust me, and I don't blame you.' He followed her into the shadowed cloister. ‘Juana, you must believe me; I had nothing to do with what happened at the Princess's. I've only just heard about it. Pedro told me he wanted to know if I'd heard anything of Father Ignatius. I've never been so angry. I'd have fought him, Juana, if he wasn't my brother. I can't tell you how sorry I am. It won't happen again; nothing. I promise you.
He may be my elder brother, but I'm the Prince's man. He won't dare try anything. I've come to ask if you will try to forgive him. And, please, believe I had nothing to do with it?'

‘Roberto, I'm so glad.' Impulsively, she held out both hands to him. ‘I minded so much. About you particularly.' There were tears in her eyes.

‘Bless you, Juana. You do believe me?'

‘Of course. And, Roberto, don't be too angry with Pedro. Even at the time, I didn't altogether blame him. It isn't fair, what our grandmother has done.' And suddenly, all at once, without further thought, she was telling him how she planned to hand the castle back to him and his brother. ‘We'll share, don't you see, there will be plenty for all of us. Only – don't tell anyone – not yet – it's all so difficult.' Here at last was someone who could advise her, and she poured out the whole story of Senhor Gonçalves' pressure. ‘And I don't want to marry anyone.' She had managed not to mention Vasco's name. ‘Why in the world are you laughing, Roberto?'