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Authors: Jane Aiken Hodge

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BOOK: Whispering
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‘And that is just why I did not want to come.' This was an argument, if you could call it that since he always won, that they had had many times since they left France. She had longed to go home to New England and safety, had found herself reluctantly in Oporto instead. And now, of course, it was all her fault that the patients who had flocked to her at first were beginning to fall away.

‘Closed shutters and dramatic lighting.' He had said this to her many times before. ‘And the group holding hands, so the electrical magnetism runs through them. That's what you need. I'll look after the lights and the music. All you have to do is manage the sufferers, as you so well know how to do.'

‘But that's not the way I can cure them.' She had said this to him many times before. ‘It's feeling them, and listening to them, by ourselves, together. That's how I can help them. You know it really, Ralph. Why do you pretend not to?'

‘Because I like to eat, I suppose. Look at that pile of bills! I hope you have some idea of how we are to pay them, because it is more than I have.'

She was silent for a long minute, gazing across to the south bank of the Douro and its busy fringe of shipping. Then she looked up at him: ‘You do not think there might be something you could do? With the town so busy as it is, and the troops and supplies coming in for Wellington, and business beginning to look up just a little at last?'

‘And what, pray, do you think I should do? Hire myself out as a copy clerk, perhaps, to one of those stiff-necked British merchants? You know what would happen then! We'd be done for socially, you and I, and you could whistle for any more customers. God knows we are on sufferance enough as it is. A little better than the sawbones, and not quite so good as the Chaplain. God, how I hate the British.' And then, gripping her wrist with a hand that hurt. ‘And if you are fool enough to tell anyone I said that you'll be lucky to live to regret it.'

‘You're hurting me,' she said. ‘Who would I tell? I've no friends, only customers, as you choose to call them. Yes, Tilly, what is it?'

‘A note for you mum. No answer needed, the man said.' Tilly was a handsome black girl who spoke the lilting English of the southern American states. In hiring her in preference to a Portuguese servant Ralph Emerson had imitated the British merchants he disliked so much. Like them, he had not troubled himself to try and learn the difficult language of the country and preferred to be waited on by servants who could understand his shouted commands. ‘Well, what is it?' he asked impatiently.

‘It may be work.' Rachel handed him the letter, preferring to do so than to have him demand to see it. ‘It's from Senhor Gomez –'

‘Rich as Croesus. Lives beyond the Franciscans –' He was reading the letter. ‘Of course! He's the one married an English vineyard, and the girl died. Some whispering about it, by what I've heard. The baby was a girl. They don't reckon much to girls, here in Portugal.'

‘Who does? This must be a relative of his wife. Coming out from England for his health.'

‘The falling sickness. You are going to cure him, my girl. And I am going to make the financial arrangements with rich Senhor Gomez.'

‘I did cure someone of it once, do you remember? Dr Mesmer had given up, gave me a free hand, said I could hardly make matters worse for the poor girl.'

‘Pity it was a girl,' he said. ‘Let's just hope you can bring it off with this Jeremy Craddock.'

‘I must do it my own way.' She had been steeling herself to say this. ‘If I am to have any chance of success I have to work on Mr Craddock as I did on poor Lucy.'

‘And how did you work on poor Lucy?' His tone was faintly mocking.

‘I saw her alone. Many times. We talked. I – it's hard to describe –' She hated talking to him about her cures, but knew
she had to make this clear. ‘I touched her, felt what was wrong, we worked together on it.'

‘A lot of female mumbo jumbo. It will be interesting to see how you go on with this Mr Craddock. Do you think he will be consumptive too? An interesting invalid with long golden hair and deep sunk eyes.' While they were talking his eyes had gone on looking past her to scan the animated scene on the river below, even busier than usual at this evening hour when merchants were being ferried home from their wine lodges at Villa Nova de Gaia on the south bank. They had one floor of a tall, thin house, tucked in among the steep alleys that led down from the Cathedral to the river, and the windows looked across the bridge of boats that spanned the river and downstream to the far view of São João da Foz and the sea. ‘There's a ship coming in now,' he said. ‘She must just have made it across the bar with the tide. Heavy loaded by the look of her.' He had picked up the glass he kept handy. ‘English, of course. Maybe your patient is on her. Had you paused to consider, my dear, what the Oporto tabbies will say if you insist on seeing this interesting young invalid alone?'

Chapter 2

Jeremy Craddock was amazed at how much money the two girls contrived to spend in Falmouth, and taken aback at the results. ‘I see now just how right your dragon of a nun was to insist on a chaperone,' he told Caterina, when she and Harriet joined him in their inn parlour, transformed into young lady of fashion and respectable friend.

‘Thank you, kind sir,' she dropped him one of her demure curtseys. ‘We will do, you think, Harriet and I?'

‘You will most certainly do. Aside from the fact that Miss Brown is much too young! May I pour you a glass of wine, Miss Gomez?'

‘Ha! It's “Miss Gomez” now! And glasses of wine! I am grown up at last.' It was the first time on the journey that he had offered it. She sipped. ‘And very nasty it is too. You wait till you taste our Colares wine, Mr Craddock.' She emphasised the surname, teasing. ‘You will find it quite a different thing. Oh, I can't wait to get home. Will we sail in the morning, do you think?'

‘If the wind holds. Captain Barker expects a swift and easy voyage, I am happy to tell you. Are you young ladies good sailors?'

‘I am,' said Caterina, and, ‘Lord knows,' said Harriet.

‘I don't know either.' Smiling at Harriet. ‘This long war has made travel impossible. I was too young to take advantage of the
peace in 1802 – or at least that is what my tutors said. I was wild to go.'

‘And the grown ups wouldn't let you?' said Caterina. ‘Poor Cousin Jeremy, I know just how you felt. Just the same, you must have been grateful to them when war broke out again and Boney clapped all the English tourists into gaol. Just think, you might be there still.'

‘A monster of a man,' he told her. ‘A danger to the world. We have to beat him. Do you think your father will quite like your calling me Cousin Jeremy, Miss Gomez?' More and more he felt things going too fast for him.

‘I've no idea. I'm not sure I care very much either. To have a father's rights, you need to act like a father.' She flashed him one of her wicked smiles. ‘I'm sorry. I am shocking you again, am I not, cousin?'

‘I am beginning to think it was a very odd nunnery of yours,' he told her.

‘That they did not teach me better manners? Oh, to do them justice, they did try, those poor nuns. With prayers and fasting, mainly. The fasting on my part, you understand, and the prayers on theirs.' And then, suddenly sober. ‘But I should not laugh at them, they were wonderfully good to me, really. And I repaid them with mockery. I sometimes think I am not a very civilised person, Cousin Jeremy.'

‘Of course you're not,' put in Harriet lovingly. ‘You're a savage, Cat, but sometimes in this world one needs to be.'

‘You're certainly a chameleon,' Jeremy said. ‘A man does not know where he is with you.' It was true. He found her profoundly disturbing. He wanted no truck with women, never had, not since the childhood night when his adored mother came to his bedside, cried over him, kissed him passionately, and was gone in the morning. She had eloped with his father's best friend, and he had promised himself, as he grew painfully up, that he would never let a woman get under his guard again. Now he shepherded his little party briskly off to an early bed and retired himself hoping strongly that they would be able to sail next morning.

But they woke to the still, clear light of what felt almost like an autumn day, and a message from the
Anthea
confirmed
that there was no hope of sailing until that evening at the earliest.

‘Wonderful.' Caterina smiled across the breakfast table at him. ‘Harryo and I had to waste all yesterday shopping, today we can explore this nice town. Do you know it used to be called Pennycomequick, Cousin Jeremy? The girl who brought our water told us.'

‘And how you understood her is a mystery to me,' said Harriet. ‘So broad as she speaks.'

‘I love languages, they interest me. I even contrived to persuade one of the nuns to teach me a little Latin until Reverend Mother found out and put a stop to it. A waste of everyone's time, she called it. But, come, cousin, where shall we start? Out on the cliff walk or over to the castle?'

‘The cliffs, perhaps, if your shoes are stout enough for such walking.' He had been very much aware of curious glances at their little party and had even wondered whether he should not hire a local girl to go along as abigail, but something Caterina had said about her father had made him baulk at this extra expense.

It was a happy day. The girls proved good walkers with none of the squealing and demands for help he expected from young ladies. They found a broad turf path along the cliff overlooking Falmouth Bay where they could walk three abreast and listen to larks singing high above them. ‘This is better than the castle.' Caterina turned to look back at Pendennis Castle on its headland. ‘I needed this air. And so did you, Harryo love, though you were never one to grumble as I do. But you begin to look yourself again today, I am glad to say. Oh –' She turned impulsively to Jeremy. ‘I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am, Cousin Jeremy.' And then: ‘But what a wretch I am. I never thought to ask whether you felt well enough to climb up here. You don't talk about yourself much, do you?'

‘It's a dull subject.' Half of him wished Harriet away and the other half was deeply grateful that she was there.

‘Then we will talk about something else,' said Caterina cheerfully. ‘What shall it be?'

Inevitably, this meant a little silence, which was just becoming awkward when they came on a cliff-top tavern and stopped to drink mugs of strong local cider and eat cold beef and pickles. ‘Oh, what a happy day,' said Caterina as they turned back towards their inn.

But Jeremy had resolved that he would suffer from seasickness on the crossing. To his relief, they were summoned on board that evening and sailed with the dawn wind. He had been glad to find that there were a few other women on board, soldiers' wives on their way to join their husbands in Oporto or up river. Consigning his charges to the women's quarters, he made a painful apology. ‘I am so very sorry; I don't feel quite the thing.' The ship was listing sluggishly this way and that on a rising tide. ‘If you will excuse me. I know you by now as amply able to take care of yourselves.'

‘Of course we can, Cousin Jeremy. You take care of yourself.' Caterina smiled the smile that was beginning to touch his heart.

Thank goodness for a moment alone.' Caterina had steered her friend to a quiet corner on the upper deck of the ship. ‘Now, tell me about your trouble with your mother, Harryo. How could she send you to that dreadful place?'

‘To teach me a lesson,' said Harriet. ‘Mind you, money has been tight lately. Everyone has been feeling the pinch, what with the war going on for ever and the harvests so bad and all. And mother's is the kind of business feels hard times first. People can be very ruthless, Cat, when their own comfort is threatened. I was one less mouth to feed, see.'

‘Yes, but you've been worth your weight in gold to her, and you know it. There must have been more.'

‘Of course there was. She had found me a good match, hadn't she?'

‘Oh,' said Caterina. ‘Now I begin to see. Tell me about him.'

Harriet made an expressive face. ‘A tanner in a very good way of business and smelled of it. Twice widowed, eight small children. He'd worn them out, Cat, those two poor wives of his. He needed a new drudge and picked on me. I wouldn't have
minded the children, poor little things, but he was gross, Cat, aside from the smell. If she wanted me to make that kind of match, mother shouldn't have sent me to Miss Shepard's school to get ideas above my station.'

‘Amongst other things,' said Caterina dryly. ‘I wonder what inducement he was offering your mother.'

‘Just money. Mother would do anything for money as we both know. So when I refused the tanner she sent me away to her friends the Joneses. Ten children, they have. Governess! Maid of all work, more like. Skivvy. And I didn't much like the way he was beginning to get me in corners. I was never gladder to see anyone than you, love.'

‘Thank goodness you let me know where you were. But your mother, Harryo. Is money really so tight with her?'

‘Well, she's missing what the tanner promised her for me. And she's certainly glad of what she gets from you. No need to worry, so long as you can keep it up.'

‘That's why I am going to Portugal,' said Caterina.

‘There you are at last.' Five days later, Caterina made room for Jeremy between her and Harriet at the rail as the
Anthea
drew in towards land. ‘We were afraid you might be dying down there in your cabin, but thought you would not be best pleased if we came to enquire. I do hope you have not had one of your seizures.'

‘Not precisely.' He loathed to have to say it. ‘But I have to confess that the mere possibility of one makes life on shipboard somewhat risky.'

BOOK: Whispering
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