Whispering (22 page)

‘Naturally.'

‘Very well then. Ten o'clock.' He held out his hand to seal the bargain and was surprised how much he disliked doing so. ‘One thing does puzzle me.' He resisted the temptation to wipe his hand on his sleeve after Emerson's moist grasp. ‘I would have thought the two of you would have wanted to stay for the Ware party; that's why I suggested Camo's boat in the first place.'

‘You're not thinking, Craddock. Or have you been too busy with your own affairs to pay attention to the news? Or maybe our American affairs are not worth your notice? That would be just like you English. But my Rachel is a wonderful correspondent and keeps us in close touch with all that goes on at home, and I can tell you the chances of war between our countries grow stronger every day. It needs just one more outrage like your navy's attacks on the
Chesapeake
and
Little Belt
and our hawkish Congress will cast the die. You know how long news takes to cross the Atlantic; it could have happened already. And whose side would your friend Joseph Camo's captain be on if he were to learn of it on the high seas? Rachel and I would be bundled back to England in chains. No, thank you, we are for the
Washington
, which belongs to Jefferson himself. We should be safe on her if there is safety anywhere.' He raised his hat. ‘Tomorrow at ten then,' and walked away.

Caterina found writing to Madame Fonsa one of the most difficult things she had ever done, but the letter was written at last and consigned to old Tonio. ‘There will be an answer for you tomorrow morning I am sure,
minha senhora
,' he promised.

It seemed a long time to wait, and Caterina's spirits were not raised by an encounter with Father Pedro who waylaid her as she returned from her regular visit to the kitchen to give the day's orders.

‘A word with you, if you please, daughter.' He blessed her perfunctorily as he spoke. ‘Alone.'

‘Very well.' She led the way into the disused library of some long-dead ancestor, where crumbling volumes mouldered on the shelves and an acrid smell of decaying leather hung in the
air. What a pleasure it would be to spring clean this house, she thought, and turned an obedient, listening face to Father Pedro.

‘It is only five days now till this party of Mrs Ware's,' he said.

‘Yes, father.'

‘And you have no news for your father and me?'

‘No, father.' What else could she say?

‘I called on the Little Sisters of Saint Seraphina yesterday, at your father's request. They need a little notice, they say, of new entrants. Am I to give it to them?'

She raised her head to look him full in the face. ‘No, father. We will not discuss this again, if you please, until the day after the party. That was the understanding, and I intend to stick to it. And now, if you will excuse me, I have my duties about the house to attend to.'

‘And he'll do it, too.' She had told Harriet the whole story. ‘Bundle us out, neck and crop, on Wednesday morning, and no one would lift a finger to prevent it.'

‘Madame Fonsa would, surely?'

‘Do you know, Harryo, that was my first thought too, and the horrid truth is that I'm not sure. It's not me she wants, it's Lewis. I told her enough so she could find him if she were to set those lawyers of hers at work. Let the doors of silence close on you and me and he would be all hers, to bring up as she chose.'

‘That must not happen,' said Harriet soberly. ‘All we need is a little time, Cat. I suppose nothing will change your father's mind?'

‘You know it won't, not with Father Pedro beside him, egging him on. Harryo,' she reached out to take her friend's hand, ‘I hardly like to ask it, but do you think Frank Ware would help us? Could we go and stay there, perhaps, until things sort themselves out?'

‘I'm sure he would want to help.' Harriet had flushed crimson. ‘But, Cat, I can't ask him! It would be asking him to –' She stammered to a halt. ‘How can I? I confess I had thought … I had hoped … Maybe when this party is over, but don't you see, I might easily have been imagining it all …'

‘If you have, then so have I.'

‘But that's not the point, is it? If he were to ask me, I would have to tell him all about myself. It would be bad enough anyway, I can't believe it won't make a difference …' She was crying now.

‘Not if he really loves you,' said her friend staunchly, ‘but I do see the difficulty. If you did something, said something to plump him into it, you'd always remember –'

‘And so would he. Things would never be right between us. Oh, Cat, I am so very sorry, but I can't.'

‘No, I can see you can't.' Caterina hugged her lovingly. ‘So we have to think of something else. Yes –?' To Tonio.

‘The Senhor Craddock has called,
minha senhora
. He is in the small salon.'

‘Jeremy Craddock.' The two girls exchanged a long, thoughtful look. ‘He did offer to help,' Caterina said at last. ‘Maybe I will see him alone, Harryo, if you'll excuse me.'

‘Gladly,' said Harriet. ‘I need to wash my face. I can only wish you luck, love.'

‘I need it.'

Caterina was startled out of her own worries by Jeremy Craddock's appearance. He looked wretched, as if he had not slept for nights or eaten much either. Constant wetting had turned his elegant short crop into an unruly thatch of curls, and a little blood had seeped out from under a dressing on his cheek.

‘You're not well, Mr Craddock, I am so sorry. What can I do for you?' She held out an impulsive, friendly hand.

‘You can let me tell you what a fool I have made of myself!' He had not known quite what impulse had brought him calling here today, now he understood. ‘Oh, thank you,' he said vaguely, as she poured him the statutory glass of sweet wine and handed him a plate of the cook's macaroons. ‘That's good,' he said, and reached out for another one. ‘I'm afraid I have bored you and Miss Brown often enough with singing Miss Emerson's praises,' he plunged right in. ‘Oh, you were too kind, too polite to say anything, but looking back I realise how little you agreed with me.'

‘Well,' she said temperately. ‘A woman's view of another woman is always different, you know. And Harriet and I like you so very much, Mr Craddock, that maybe we did wonder a little if she was good enough for you.'

‘Good enough! She's not Emerson's sister, Miss Gomez, she's his wife.' He had not meant to tell her this.

‘His wife?' She gasped. ‘Oh, poor Mr Craddock.'

‘It's so sad.' It was a relief to talk about it. ‘In fact her gift is real enough. She was actually doing me good, more good than I had imagined. I feel differently about things.' He had not realised this before. ‘And yet it's all false,' he groaned. ‘Used for false ends, for money.'

‘There's nothing wrong with money, Mr Craddock. If you ask me, there's a lot to be said for it. Try having none and you'll see. And if she has really done you good, why not be grateful and let it go?'

‘And let them go on deceiving people? I can't do that. I have insisted they leave for America by the next boat. And promised my silence if they do so. I know I can count on you, Miss Gomez.'

‘Of course. So I suppose you will be leaving us too?'

‘Yes, but not until after the party, I thought.' He had been absent-mindedly sipping at the Madeira wine as he talked, and was beginning to look better as colour returned to his haggard face. ‘I don't want to miss that after all the preparations I have seen being made for it.'

‘Oh, that party! There's been so much talk of it, I sometimes find myself wondering whether it will ever really take place.' She was talking almost automatically, hardly aware of what she was saying, while a new idea grew in her head. ‘Mr Craddock –'

‘Yes?' Something in her tone made him forget his own troubles and really look at her for the first time. ‘Miss Gomez, I'm a selfish fool, too full of my own affairs. Something's the matter, isn't it? Is he being impossible, that father of yours? We are cousins, remember, and I feel extra responsibility because I brought you here, you and Miss Brown. You promised you would let me know if you should need my help.'

‘Oh, thank you. Cousin Jeremy.' The offer made up her mind. ‘We were at our wits' end, Harriet and I, when you called, and I truly believe you could help us, if only you would.'

‘Of course I will.'

‘Wait till you hear. You won't much like it, I'm afraid. Well, I don't myself.' He was amazed to see that she was blushing, something he had never seen before. ‘It is my father. You are quite right about that. He sent for me because he wants a son-in-law to come into the firm, to take his name, I imagine. Do you see?'

‘I think I begin to.'

‘I am sure you have heard the stories about me, here in Porto.' She ploughed steadily on. ‘No Portuguese gentleman would have me, so they gave me a choice, he and Father Pedro: you or Frank Ware. Wait –' She put up a hand to silence him. ‘That was when we got here; now they are getting impatient. Father Pedro told me this morning that I must announce my engagement the day after the party, or they will send me off to join the Little Sisters of Saint Seraphina.'

‘The silent order!' Now she had truly horrified him. ‘Both of you? But, once there –'

‘Exactly. We might as well be dead. I rather think Father Pedro has gone off to make the arrangements today. Can you guess what it is I am finding so hard to ask you, Mr Craddock?'

‘Of course, we must marry.' He had never thought to hear himself say it. ‘What is it, Miss Gomez?' She was actually laughing, of all things.

‘Oh,
kind
Mr Craddock.' She put her hand to her mouth to quell another irresistible bubble of nervous laughter. ‘I shall never forget that to my dying day. But the situation is not so desperate as that. All we need is a little time.' How long would Madame Fonsa's lawyers take, she wondered. ‘Then I truly think things may come about for us. Forgive me if I don't explain – it is not entirely my secret … So the case is, would you terribly mind pretending to be engaged to me? Just for a few weeks. If you are really going back to England it would make it
all much easier, would it not? We could break it off at leisure, by post, and no harm done.'

Now, oddly, he did want to protest, but raised another point. ‘Why don't you come back with me, you and Miss Brown? If it is a question of the fare, I would be only too happy to help.'

‘Kinder and kinder! But, no, I am more grateful than I can say, but there are things I have to do, here in Porto, before I can think of leaving.'

‘Will you be safe when I am gone?'

‘Engaged to you? Yes, I am sure of it.' Had he tacitly agreed to the scheme?

‘Then let us by all means be engaged.' He ate the last macaroon and rose to his feet. ‘Miss Gomez, will you do me the honour – What is it?'

‘You mustn't.' Were those tears in her eyes? ‘It's not real, remember.' She held out her hand. ‘And I am more grateful to you than I can say. Oh –' He had bent to kiss it.

‘I think you are the bravest woman I know, Miss Gomez. Now, do you not think that I should go straight to your father?'

But what will Luiz do when he hears?' While Jeremy was with her father, Caterina had told her tale to Harriet and was taken aback by her reaction.

‘Oh, my God, I had forgotten all about Luiz!'

And that was interesting in itself, thought Harriet. ‘Well, you had better start remembering him now,' she said. ‘And warn Jeremy Craddock about him too.'

‘Warn –'

‘You're not thinking, love. That's a violent man, that Luiz. I've seen some and I know. And associated with violence too. I do hope that grandmother of his does something quickly when she gets your letter about him. You did tell it her straight, didn't you?'

‘As straight as I could. But, you know, there's not that much to go on. Just my instinct, really. And how can she report her own grandson to the authorities?'

‘You think she is more likely to use her suspicions to blackmail him into going away? That's not very pretty either, is it?'

‘No, it's not, but it would be a great relief.'

‘I should just about think so, and I am glad you do too. But it's what he might attempt before he goes that worries me. Hearing about you and Craddock is going to be a terrible blow
to his pride, Cat. Did you ever wonder how Father Pedro came to be attacked that time?'

‘A footpad, surely?'

‘You've been too busy to think, that's your trouble,' said her friend. ‘Did it not strike you how very convenient it was for your Luiz to have the holy inquisitive father out of action for a few days just then?'

‘Oh!' Caterina put a hand to her mouth. Suddenly, blindingly, a casual phrase of Luiz's came back to her. She had told him that Father Pedro was conscious, and he had said, ‘Damnation! Too soft a blow!' It had chimed in so with her own feelings about the detestable father that it had not struck her until now what it implied. Idiot that she had been. Had Luiz struck that blow himself, or merely arranged for it to be struck? ‘I'm the world's fool!' She told Harriet about it and was surprised at her lack of surprise.

‘Just so,' she said. ‘I wonder how long it will take for the news of your “engagement” to reach him. It's going to spread like wildfire, you know.'

‘Oh dear, I suppose it is.'

‘You hadn't thought of that either, had you, love? What is the old lady going to say, for instance?'

‘Do you know, I had thought of that,' said Caterina. ‘I think it will strengthen my hand in dealing with her. To have a man apparently behind me, do you see?'

‘Oh yes I do,' said Harriet. ‘There's a lot to be said for it! I suppose you could send a note to Luiz to say that the engagement is a pretence?'