Far From Home (18 page)

She smiled then and nodded. ‘That is why! I would grow the cotton, with Zac. ’E would be the one, and we can ship it to your mill in England and make you rich!’

‘Zac?’ he said, stupefied, and couldn’t remember telling her about the cotton mill. ‘Who is Zac?’

‘Zachariah. My man.’

He exhaled. ‘The man you want to marry?’

‘Sancho will not let me.’ She turned her lips down. ‘But if I marry you, Sancho will be ’appy. You are an Eenglish gentleman. It will bring ’im – what you call it? Presteem?’

‘Esteem – prestige! But why will it?’

‘He will not let me marry a quadroon.’ She gave a derisory grimace. ‘Nor a Spaniard. I would taint ze blood. But a Frenchman is all right or an Englishman. Eenglish is good, you ’ave a castle, yes? And once we are married Sancho has no control over me. Only you ’ave that, Meester Newmarch.’

Fat chance of that! Edward thought. If anyone was to have control it would be Elena, and he resented the fact that she was not allowed to marry a Spaniard but could marry an Englishman or Frenchman. Damned foreigners, he grumbled to himself. How dare Rodriguez compare the French with the English!

The others caught them up and the servants proceeded to erect the
barbacoa
frame. They first prepared a fire of twigs and branches, then around it they hammered four stout wooden uprights into the ground, split the tops into a fork to take parallel bars, and criss-crossed these with green wood which would not burn but only singe. They set light to the fire, and from this they made another fire for hot water and to cook beans and corn.

Elena went with some of the men and girls to catch fish from the river. The young servant girls babbled and giggled and ran ahead to jump into the shallows, laughing and screeching in their excitement. Edward watched Elena as she moved towards a young male servant. He was much taller than her and heavily built, his wide shoulders bulging beneath his cotton shirt. They briefly touched hands before drifting apart. So that is Zac, Edward thought uneasily. Elena looks petite at the side of him. What a formidable pair.

Chicken and turkey were put on the roasting frame and the fatty juices sizzled and spat onto the flames, sending up a delicious aroma. Then the first of the freshly caught fish wrapped in green leaves was added, cooking quickly as the fire grew hotter.

‘Ed-ward.’ Sofia held out her hand to him. A blanket and cushions were laid out beneath a tree on the ground behind her. ‘Come and sit by me.’

A girl brought a jug of wine and a dish of almonds and grapes. Sofia poured the wine and handed a glass to Edward. She raised her glass in a toast. To friendship,’ she said softly, before taking a sip, then leaned towards him and kissed him gently on the lips.

He gave a small gasp and put out his hand to draw her closer, but she gave a slight shake of her head and moved away. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Just a leetle aperitif.’

He took a large gulp of wine, then lay back on the cushions and closed his eyes. The sun warmed his face, the wine warmed his blood, he could smell Sofia’s perfume and he wanted to take her in his arms and make love to her, to kiss her soft mouth and feel her yielding body next to his. Ruby, he groaned. I’m forgetting you already.

‘Ed-ward, are you all right?’ Sofia bent over him.

‘No, I’m not all right,’ he murmured and clutched her hand. ‘I want you. You are the most beautiful woman in the world and I am mad with desire for you.’

Sofia stroked his cheek, seeming not to mind that the servants were around. ‘Sancho is frequently away,’ she said softly. ‘We would see each other often if you were part of the family. If you married my Elena.’

It doesn’t seem quite right, he thought. Though I find her most desirable, this is Elena’s
mother
suggesting infidelity if I marry her daughter! I’m used to the reserve and formality of Englishwomen. English
gentle
women, at least, he mused as he gazed at Sofia. Not young women such as my darling Ruby. No, she was quite different. Sofia is Mexican of course, and probably hot-blooded. He started to sweat and became quite agitated as he thought of what making love to an uninhibited Sofia might be like.

He cleared his throat. ‘I will give it some thought, Sofia,’ he said, ‘about marrying Elena, I mean. She is very young and perhaps might fall in love with someone else—’

‘
Tst, tst
,’ she said. ‘She has already, but she cannot marry him. Sancho will not allow it.’ She smiled sweetly and seductively. ‘You would be the perfect ’usband for her. She would be good to you, and you would become much richer from cotton in New Orleans than in England.’ She ran slender fingers along his thigh. ‘And also have much pleasure.’

Then, though his senses flared and he caught his breath, he remembered that it was Sofia he had told of the cotton-mill shares he held in England, and realized that it was she who must have told Elena. They are setting a snare, he deduced, as he played with Sofia’s fingers. Sofia is arousing me, enticing me,
promising
me her favours, so that I will marry her daughter. But will she keep her promise? And what of Sancho? What would he do if he found out?

They ate and drank and when the younger servants had finished serving the food, they, with Elena and Sibella, ran towards the river and played games. Edward was bewildered by the lack of formality between the Rodriguez family and their servants. If I had brought Allen along, I couldn’t see him cavorting around in front of me as they are doing.

‘This is not like England, I think?’ Sofia said softly. ‘Your slaves do not have such fun?’

‘Slaves!’ He was horrified. ‘We don’t have slaves in England! Though I know that once we did.’

She gave a little shrug. ‘Our slaves are ’appy. They are fed and clothed and ’ave a little cabin to live in, and as long as they do not misbehave, they stay with us for ever. We look after them and they look after us.’

‘And what abut Zac?’ he asked. ‘Is he a slave?’

‘No,’ she said sharply. ‘He is not. ’E is a servant. A free man. He would not be tolerated near Elena if ’e was a slave.’

‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘Your first husband was a slave, yet you married him.’

‘Yes, he was his father’s slave,’ she admitted. ‘But now is different. I was very poor when I met Brown, but Elena is a daughter of rich parents so she must marry well.’ She leaned towards him and whispered. ‘Sancho would kill Zac if he thought they were ’aving a liaison.’

Edward thought it unlikely. He had seen the size of Zac. Rodriguez was slimly built and older, but, he pondered, he probably has plenty of people who would willingly put Zac out of reach.

‘They will be found out. We must save them, Ed-ward.’ Sofia’s eyes were moist and appealing. ‘Please ’elp us. Sometimes Sancho can be so cruel.’

A sudden low cry was uttered by one of the servants and he pointed along the valley to the top of the hillside. A man on horseback could be seen looking down on them, his figure and that of his horse etched on the skyline.

‘Sancho,’ Sofia said softly, and she clapped her hands and said something in Spanish. Immediately everyone moved into action. More wood was put on the low fire, the servants down by the river raced back, as did Elena and Sibella, and Sibella skipped and ran along the valley to greet her father and ride up behind him.

Rodriguez kissed his wife and shook Edward’s hand and accepted a glass of wine from one of the young girls, who dimpled and curtsied when he spoke to her.

More meat was put over the fire and Sancho sat on the blanket beside Edward and lazily popped almonds into his mouth.

‘So, Newmarch,’ he began formally. ‘How do you like our country house?’ He swept a hand around to encompass the surroundings. ‘And our garden?’ he joked.

‘It’s wonderful,’ Edward replied quite truthfully. ‘And do you know that in England, it is probably raining and people will be preparing for the winter?’

‘Hah!’ Rodriguez said. ‘I do not wonder that so many people come here. It is a good place to live, yes?’

‘Yes, indeed. Very good indeed.’ Edward felt safer now that Rodriguez was here, even though he might try to persuade him to marry Elena and offer incentives to do so. I can resist money, he thought, but I cannot resist the temptation of Sofia. I am bound to fall.

That evening, as it became cooler, fires were lit in all the rooms of the house. They ate in the dining room by the glow of a wood fire and the flames of dozens of candles which were placed on the table, in alcoves, in front of mirrors and windows, so that they were reflected from the glass into shimmering, scintillating dozens more.

Edward drank more wine as it was offered, though he knew that he shouldn’t. He was feeling quite heady as he had drunk wine steadily during the day, but he was lulled into a sense of ease as Sancho’s mother was at the supper table as well as Elena and Sibella, and he was sure that the conversation would be general rather than personal. When they had finished eating, the ladies excused themselves and he and Rodriguez withdrew into a small library where there were comfortable leather chairs and a fire blazing in the hearth.

‘Port, Newmarch? Or perhaps you would prefer cognac?’ Rodriguez indicated the decanters on a side table.

‘Port, please.’ Edward sank back into the comfort of his chair and thought how very pleasant this was. Beautiful home, beautiful wife, lovely countryside. How lucky Rodriguez was to have all this, and he wondered vaguely if it all came from sugar cane and cotton.

‘Do you have other interests, Rodriguez?’ he asked. ‘Or does cotton and cane keep you busy?’

His host sat across from him. ‘I have managers for the fields, but yes, I have other interests. I deal in merchandise which comes in on the ships.’ He narrowed his eyes slightly and his mouth turned up at the corners, but it wasn’t quite a smile. ‘There is always something that someone wants, and I can get it. Silks. Precious stones. Wine. Opium. Anything!’

He took a sip from his glass, then putting it down on a side table he perused Edward, tapping his fingers together as he did so, and Edward noticed the heavy gold rings on his third and little fingers. ‘What would you like, Newmarch?’ he asked softly. ‘What would make you happy? A house? A ship? Money? We would like to see you living here in our country. We do not welcome everyone, be assured of that. But you would fit in.’ He nodded. ‘I can see that you would be comfortable with riches.’

Edward was flattered by the blandishments. It was true, he concurred. Being rich would suit me very well. Father always insisted that Martin and I work for a living just so that we would know how the less well-off managed. But I always thought that absolute tosh. I’ve never really cared about the poor or how they fared. It’s every man for himself as far as I’m concerned.

‘What would I like?’ he responded. ‘Well, of course, I came to this country to start afresh. I am not without fortune,’ he added, not wanting Rodriguez to think him a pauper. ‘I have considerable assets, but I was stifled in England, feeling the need to look further afield. To discover the strength of my ability which was being wasted.’

It was patently untrue as he well knew, but if Rodriguez could put him in the way of a fortune without him having to expend too much effort, then he would sit back and enjoy the fruits of it.

Rodriguez handed him a cigar and a neat gold clipper to take off the end. He then lit it for him and sat back in his chair and lit one for himself. ‘You came to the right place, my friend,’ he said. ‘It was fortuitous that Captain Voularis mentioned my name to you.’

Edward gave a little smirk behind his fingers as he smoked. He doesn’t guess that I know the reason why, he thought. ‘Voularis must be quite a judge of character,’ he commented, ‘meeting so many people on his ship.’

Rodriguez nodded and gazed at him with an inscrutable expression. ‘My ship, actually,’ he said in his suave manner. ‘Voularis works for me.’

‘Ah!’ Edward wafted the smoke away from his eyes. ‘I see.’

‘I have two ships,’ Rodriguez continued. ‘They carry merchandise and passengers. I would like to buy a third, but it might be prudent of me to take a partner, if I can find the right man.’

Edward felt a tingle of excitement. He remembered seeing the ships in the Hull docks and thinking that shipping might be the business to be in. ‘How very coincidental,’ he said fervently. ‘I have often considered that shipping might be rewarding. In England the railways are making great strides with transportation of goods across country, but we can never be without our ships for worldwide trade.’

‘Quite right,’ Rodriguez agreed, looking at him from beneath lowered eyelids. He drew heavily on his cigar, then exhaled slowly, leaning his head backwards so that the smoke drifted towards the ceiling. ‘So, perhaps you might be interested in a little venture?’

‘I might be,’ Edward said complacently. ‘Depends on the terms. I have only just got here, of course. Haven’t had time to look around, you know. But I am interested.’

Don’t be too eager, he thought. Play him along for a while. He’s obviously keen to have me as a partner or he wouldn’t have invited me here. And not once has he mentioned Elena. A doubt about Rodriguez’ motives disturbed his satisfaction, but he instantly dismissed it. A man like Rodriguez would never mix business with personal affairs.

‘Yes.’ He took another sip of port. ‘We must talk again. I think I might be very interested indeed.’

‘Good.’ Rodriguez reached out and rang a handbell which was on the table. ‘Enough now of business matters. Shall we rejoin the ladies?’

‘
Momia
! Sancho has offered Newmarch shares in a ship!’ Elena rushed towards Sofia, who was sitting with Rodriguez’ mother, and whispered in her ear. ‘I listened at the door.’

‘Tst!’ The senior Señora Rodriguez was not so deaf that she did not hear her remark. ‘This girl has no manners. She would have had a beating for such behaviour in my day.’

Sofia ignored her mother-in-law, and murmured to Elena, ‘Be careful, you will make Sancho angry if he catches you.’

‘What? What did you say?’ Señora Rodriguez glared at Sofia.

‘I said you were an old busybody,’ Sofia muttered, her mouth hidden behind her fan, which she put up to her face. She lowered it and smiled sweetly at the older woman and raised her voice. ‘I told her that she must be grateful to Sancho for all he does for her and to be pleasant to the Englishman.’