The Winding Stair (36 page)

It meant making Vasco wait a whole month for his answer and something in her was frightened at this. At last, under pressure from Miguel, she wrote him a note of explanation and apology. Of course she could not give the true reasons for her delay, but there were plenty of false ones. Her grandmother was so ill … she herself was busy beyond thought directing the vintage … she was thinking, deeply, about him … she hoped he would forgive it and understand her delay …

Sending Iago off with the letter, she found herself wondering whether it might not bring Vasco back in person to plead his suit once more. If he came, if he touched her with those incendiary hands, would she forget everything, forget what she owed to Gair, forget her own doubts and yield to him?

She did not know whether she was glad or sorry when Iago returned to report that Senhor de Mascarenhas had been away from home, but that his servants had promised he would be sent the letter without delay. ‘They seemed to expect it, senhora.'

Of course they did. But Vasco would expect a definite answer. Suddenly, she remembered the moment, at their last meeting, when he had exploded into rage. She was glad she would not be there when he read her temporising letter.

She had grown almost used to going down the winding stair by now, but when she slid back the secret panel for the October meeting, she was at once conscious of a new tension in the air.

‘… just returned from Bayonne,' the leader was saying. ‘Junot arrived there the day before I did, to take command of the French
army. He had messages for me from Napoleon. We have the Emperor's promise, Brothers.'

‘His promise of what, exactly?' Juana was sure this was the Brother of the Silver Serpent even before she saw the emblem on his hood.

‘That as soon as they have Portugal under control, they will hand over to us.'

‘And what must we do in exchange?'

‘See to it that their entry to the country is unopposed. And that, evidently, is to our own advantage. Without bloodshed, with the royal family gone to Brazil, we have the ideal opportunity to give Portugal, at last, a democratic government.'

There was an enthusiastic murmur round the table. But, ‘Without bloodshed?' asked the Brother of the Silver Hand.

‘With as little as possible,' qualified the leader. ‘We all know that there are some enemies of Portugal who must be disposed of before we can begin to think of freedom. You know your duties, Brothers. On the day Dom John goes aboard ship you strike, each your appointed victim. In the meantime, it is understood that we each, in our own way, do all we can to help in the French invasion. First, of course, we deny that it is happening. Napoleon himself intends to leave for Italy in order to throw dust in his enemies' eyes. We will make much of this. We will stress that last year the French threatened to come, and did not. Then, when the news of their invasion can no longer be denied, we insist that the French will have the mountains to cross … the weather will be against them … how can they get here before winter sets in? You, Brother of the Broken Cross, will keep Dom John at Mafra as long as you possibly can. When he does come to Lisbon, it must be simply to embark with the fleet.'

‘And his life will be spared?' The Brother of the Broken Cross rose to his feet. ‘He's a good enough man, in his way.'

‘If he leaves for Brazil, he is safe. The same goes for his wife and all their family. But if any of them stay behind, for whatever reason, whether by chance or by design, the Brother responsible for them knows his duty. We cannot let any squeamish scruples stand between Portugal and her day of freedom.'

‘Will there be free elections?' asked the Brother of the Broken Cross.

‘As soon as the country is ready for them.' It seemed a doubtful enough promise to Juana, but the Brothers greeted it with a
shout of approval. There was little further business. Questioned by the Brother of the Ragged Staff the leader said he did not know exactly how soon the French Army planned to march. ‘Very likely we will have one more meeting, Brothers, here in secret, before we emerge into the light of day, masters of our country. And now, we meet only to part …'

Juana slid the secret panel shut. One more meeting. It was more than time that she made up her mind. She would tell Gair everything when he came next day. Somehow, in doing so, she felt she would come to a decision.

She made an excuse, next morning, not to go down to the Pleasant Valley, where the vintage was almost finished. When Gair arrived, she would suggest they ride down there together. In the meantime, she sat with Daisy and Teresa in the Ladies' Parlour and pretended to learn a new speech from Shakespeare's plays: ‘If it were done when 'tis done …' Daisy had suggested it: ‘If you can do that, with all its “t”s and “d”s, you can do anything.'

But it was hard to concentrate today, knowing that Junot was with the French army ready to strike. Or might they not have marched already? It must have taken the leader some little time to get back from Bayonne. How did she know the French had not been close behind him?

Elvira drifted into the room; ‘I hear the sound of galloping hoofs. Danger threatens—'

‘You'll never rhyme with that,' said Teresa cheerfully.

‘Someone is coming!' Daisy jumped up and ran to the window that overlooked the central courtyard. ‘It's Pedro and Roberto!'

‘At last.' Teresa joined her at the window. ‘But they're not coming up here.'

‘They're going to their father's rooms,' Daisy said. ‘I wonder what that means.'

‘So do I.' They exchanged a long glance.

Time ebbed and flowed and still there was no sign of the two young men. At last, Daisy rose and left the room. Returning: ‘I've been round the cloisters,' she said. ‘There's a terrible argument going on up in Uncle Prospero's rooms. You can hear them from the courtyard; all of them; shouting. What do you think it's about?'

‘Us, I hope,' said Teresa.

Juana hoped so too, but could not help being afraid they were
talking about her. Suppose Dom John had revoked his certificate of citizenship … Or, more likely, suppose the others had come round to Miguel and Vasco's way of thinking: had decided it was worthless. Any minute, they might appear and press her for a decision. And Gair had not come. She had not made up her mind.

‘Here they come,' said Daisy. ‘Is my hair tidy?' She joined Teresa at a big tarnished looking-glass.

‘Miguel's with them,' said Teresa. ‘I can hear his voice.'

The four men entered the Ladies' Parlour and Roberto and Pedro went straight to Teresa and Daisy. Prospero looked red with anger, Juana saw, and Miguel even paler than usual. ‘What is it?' she asked.

‘Bad news,' Miguel told her. ‘Roberto has secret information that the French army of invasion has marched from Bayonne, with Junot at its head. The moment of decision has come, Juana. And God has sent you His warning. Do you remember the day the earth shook?'

‘Yes, indeed.' It had been a very small earthquake, but had panicked Manuela and Estella.

‘That was the day Junot left the Tuileries to join the army. It is the writing on the wall. Portugal is doomed. There is nothing left but prayer.'

‘That's not what my sons think.' Prospero had calmed down somewhat. ‘Juana! These ridiculous boys want to get married at once. What do you think of that?'

How odd it was to be consulted as if she were a power in the family. She was aware of Daisy and Teresa anxiously watching her. Prospero had spoken in Portuguese, but doubtless their lovers had explained the situation. ‘It seems a good idea to me,' she said, in English.

‘We must,' said Pedro. ‘I have to go to Spain tomorrow on my mistress's errand. I cannot leave things here like this.'

‘And God knows when I'll be able to get away from Mafra again,' said Roberto.

‘But if Dom John knows the French have marched?' Juana asked in Portuguese. ‘Won't he do something? Come to Queluz at least?'

‘I don't know.' Roberto too spoke in Portuguese, then translated quickly into English for Teresa. ‘He's keeping the news secret. For my sake you must say nothing about it. And it seems
to make no difference to him. Only God knows what will become of us all.'

‘Yes,' said Miguel, ‘so let us trust in God.'

‘But let us act for ourselves,' said Pedro. ‘Daisy agrees.'

‘So does Teresa,' said Roberto. ‘It will be a strange sort of wedding, my poor love, since I must ride back to Mafra this afternoon, but at least you will have the protection of my name.' He turned to Juana. ‘Where is Father Ignatius?'

‘Father – ?' She looked at Pedro. ‘He never came back.'

‘If you really insist,' Prospero seemed to have given in. ‘We must send to Sintra for a priest.'

‘Yes,' said Miguel. ‘And, while you are sending – if this madness is toward – Juana, why not send for Senhor de Mascarenhas?'

‘Send?' She was appalled at the suggestion.

‘For your cousin. Pedro and Roberto are right, you know. I may not approve, but I understand. This is the way to safety for you Englishwomen. Junot is not a man to be trifled with, Juana. He's a man of the people, rough, determined. No use showing him a piece of paper and saying in your singer's voice: “But I'm Portuguese.” He would kill himself laughing; kill you, very likely, and take the castle. And where does that leave the rest of us?'

Where indeed? Juana caught Roberto's eye fixed anxiously on her. She had made him promise to tell no one of her plan to share the estate with him and Pedro, and thought he had kept his word, but could well understand that he must think this the time to come out with it. And after all, why not? She no longer deluded herself that there was any hope of her grandmother's recovering. The old lady was dwindling from day to day. It could only be a question of weeks now. And Senhor Gonçalves had said, even before this illness, that he did not think a new will would stand, if she should decide to make one.

She looked around. They were her family. She could not really understand why she had not told them sooner. It would simplify everything. If she could sign a document, now, making over her rights in the castle to her cousins, the question of her marrying Vasco need, not enter into it. She could decide about him purely, selfishly even. The castle would be safe, and she a free agent. ‘Uncle,' she spoke to Miguel, who had kept his pale gaze fixed on her, ‘it's not like that. There's something I ought to tell you – should
have told you sooner, perhaps.' She had meant to consult Gair before she decided anything. It was too late now. She plunged into her explanation, in Portuguese, with a parenthetical apology for Daisy and Teresa: ‘I can't d … d … I can't manage in English.' Concluding, she turned from Miguel to Prospero: ‘So if we send for Senhor Gonçalves at once,' she said, ‘I'm sure he can draw up some kind of document that will protect us all.'

Miguel's voice drowned Pedro's and Roberto's as they translated rapidly for the girls' benefit: ‘Have you consulted Senhor de Mascarenhas about this?'

‘No. Why should I? I shall tell him, of course, when I see him.'

‘I think you should tell him first,' said Miguel.

‘I would if I could.' She wondered if this was true. ‘But he's away. I have not had an answer yet to the letter I wrote him. And you yourself say there is no time to be lost.'

‘Yes,' said Prospero. ‘If you really mean this, Juana, I think we should act on it at once. I must say, it's a most generous …'

She missed the rest of his speech of thanks because Daisy and Teresa flung their arms around her neck to kiss and thank her. The little scene was interrupted by Jaime, announcing Gair Varlow.

‘Goodness,' said Daisy. ‘You'll need to tell him too, Juana.'

‘Yes,' said Teresa, ‘but he was courting Juana before there was any question of the castle.' She laughed and shook her blonde curls. ‘What a dark horse you are, Juana.'

Miguel had been giving quick orders to Jaime. ‘I'll write a note to Gonçalves,' he said. ‘The priest from Sintra will get here first, but you had best delay your marriages until the lawyer arrives.'

‘Marriages?' Gair Varlow had followed Jaime into the crowded room. ‘Who am I to congratulate?' He could be relied on to speak English when Daisy and Teresa were present.

‘Me,' said Daisy.

‘And me,' said Teresa.

‘Or rather, my brother and I,' said Roberto. ‘Perhaps you will stay, Senhor Varlow, and honour us with your presence at our joint wedding?' And then, to Prospero, ‘As for the lawyer, we will wait as long as possible, but I must get back to Mafra tonight.'

‘And I to Ramalhao,' said Pedro. ‘I leave for Spain tomorrow.'

‘You are indeed marrying in haste,' said Gair.

‘Not, I hope, to repent at leisure,' broke in Teresa.

‘No, indeed.' Roberto's quelling look reminded the others that they must not speak of the French invasion.

‘I wonder,' Gair pursued the point. ‘Does this mean that there is some truth in the story I have heard that your master, Dom John, is about to sign a decree closing Portuguese ports to English ships?'

‘You are well informed, senhor.' Roberto looked relieved. This was a question he could answer. ‘Yes, I'm afraid it is true, the order will be signed any time now. That is partly why I am here today. It is the moment of decision for the few English who remain in this country. Fortunately my cousin Juana need no longer be considered as English, since my master has declared her Portuguese.'

‘You think it will hold?' Gair asked.

‘For an individual, yes. For the owner of an immense property, I'm not sure. But, cousin' – he turned to Juana – ‘have I your permission to tell Senhor Varlow of your most generous offer?'

‘Why not?' She realised, with bitter amusement, that Daisy and Teresa were all agog to see how Gair would take the discovery that she was not to be an heiress after all. How much more comic it would be if they knew he was not her suitor, that all the courtship of this long year had been nothing but an elaborate, intolerable charade. Still, at least, he had wooed her – pretended to woo her – for reasons of state, not for sordid considerations of money and land. It brought her up suddenly against the question of Vasco. Had she been foolish not to think that he might be courting her partly (wholly?, asked a voice at the back of her mind) for the castle? Had Gair's pretended courtship blinded her to the possibility of another one?