The Winding Stair (31 page)

‘You think Napoleon invincible then?' Gair's tone was dry.

In a moment they would be quarrelling again. ‘But did you find your witness, cousin?' Juana asked, to lower the tension, and thought, with irritation, as she did so, that they would both think it just like a woman to descend thus from the historic to the personal.

‘Yes. I'll tell you about it – ‘ But not now, said his look. ‘Here comes the Princess. Follow my lead, cousin.'

Carlota Joaquina greeted Vasco warmly, as an old friend. ‘So it was you who took such liberties with my opera, Senhor de Mascarenhas!'

‘I hope you agree that I improved it, your highness.'

To Juana's relief the party broke up soon afterwards without their having encountered Pedro or Roberto. Gair and Vasco who had both stayed close at her side escorted her to the carriage where they found Teresa already waiting. Roberto, she said, crossly, had had to leave early to go back to Mafra.

Vasco handed Juana up into the carriage. ‘Remember,' his voice was low so that Teresa could not hear. ‘Least said, soonest mended.' Behind him, a look from Gair confirmed the warning.

But she had something of her own to say. ‘You won't – ?' She looked from one man to the other, still anxious that they might quarrel after she had left.

‘Fail to call on you tomorrow.' Gair finished her sentence on a note of reassurance. ‘Rest well, Miss Brett. It's almost morning already.'

Vasco bent to kiss her hand. ‘I, too, shall look forward to
visiting you tomorrow, cousin,' He stepped back, as Pedro and Daisy appeared behind him.

Juana held her breath at the unlucky meeting, but nothing happened. The three, men greeted each other as casual acquaintances, Pedro handed Daisy up into the carriage and turned quickly away. It was safely over.

‘So that's the handsome cousin, is it?' Teresa leaned forward to stare out at Vasco as the coachman whipped up his mules.

‘Vasco de Mascarenhas?' Daisy too gazed back to where Gair and Vasco could still be seen by the fitful light of the pages' torches. ‘I wish I had got a better look at him. You might have warned me, Teresa. And as for you, Juana; I never saw such a dark horse. All that talk about not wanting to stay, and you end up with two cavaliers to our one. And they're both calling tomorrow. It's more than Pedro can. He's off on another of the Princess's errands.'

‘And Roberto's gone back to Mafra.' But Teresa's grumble was merely superficial. Listening as they compared notes about the party, Juana was aware of a kind of subdued glow about them. If Pedro and Roberto had not actually proposed tonight, they must have done the next best thing.

For her part, she was delighted to hear her step-sisters complain, in proprietorial tones, that Pedro and Roberto would both be away for some time. She did not at all want to meet them, and only hoped that Father Ignatius would keep away too. She had done her best to convince Gair and Vasco that it had all been nothing but a joke. Could she convince herself?

Manuela interrupted her breakfast next morning with an urgent summons from Mrs. Brett. Prepared to be cross-examined about the party, Juana was taken aback by her grandmother's abrupt greeting.

‘You were right,' she began without preamble. ‘I owe you an apology. We must start arranging, at once, for your family to go back to England.'

‘Why, what's the matter, ma'am?'

‘Here; read this.' She handed Juana a note from Gair. ‘It was meant for you, of course.'

Juana's heart sank as she read the careful message. Gair much regretted being unable to call today, but official business made it impossible. The news of Tilsit was out, and there was worse than the mere fact of peace between France and Russia.
Napoleon had celebrated his victory by demanding that Portugal come down finally on his side against England. Under threat of war, he insisted that Portugal close her ports to British shipping, arrest all British residents and confiscate their property. ‘This news is not public yet.' Gair ended, ‘and of course nothing will happen at once, but I know you will want to be thinking what is best to do for your family.'

‘It's bad.' Juana finished reading.

‘As bad as possible.'

‘You think the Portuguese will yield to Napoleon's demands?'

‘I'll be surprised if they don't. There will be some time, of course, as Mr. Varlow says, but not too much for all we have to do. Write a note to Senhor Gonçalves, child, telling him to come at once and advise me. If only you were Portuguese, how much simpler everything would be. I'm English, nothing will change that, but if I could hand the castle over to you …'

‘But I'm English too. It will have to be Pedro and Roberto.' She had wondered last night whether to tell Mrs. Brett about their plot against her. Now she knew she never would. Mercifully, her grandmother seemed better today.

‘You're no more English than they are. Not really. But there's time to think about that. The first thing is your family. Frankly, I'll be glad to be rid of them, however much it costs. Did you know your step-mother drinks?'

‘Oh?' Suddenly a whole series of unconnected episodes fell into place. ‘The poor thing. I hadn't realised. She didn't, though, before she came here. I'm sure of that.'

‘Well, let's hope she stops when she gets back. Ride down the Pleasant Valley this morning, Juana, and find Senhor Macarao for me. If I'm to pay off your father's debts, I may have to sell some land. We'll need him as well as Senhor Gonçalves.'

‘I suppose so. But the girls, ma'am, Daisy and Teresa. What if they don't want to go?'

‘You think they won't?'

‘I'm sure they won't.' Daisy and Teresa, this morning, had been shining with happiness.

‘Can you tell me one good reason why I should keep them here? They're no kin of mine, nor of yours, come to that. Their place is with their mother.'

‘In the state she's in?'

‘That's not my affair. Haven't we enough hangers-on in the castle already?'

‘Too many. I agree with you there. But Daisy and Teresa are my step-sisters – and my friends.' And then, seeing how little effect this had, ‘Besides, I think they are going to be your granddaughters, ma'am.' She was frightened as she said it. Her grandmother did seem much stronger this morning, but it was always bad for her to fly into a rage. Still, she had to know … She waited for the explosion.

It did not come. ‘So that's it. Something happened last night?'

‘I think so. Nothing definite, I think, but enough …'

‘Without consulting me. But it's in character. You see how right I was to wash my hands of my precious grandsons. Well, if they want to saddle themselves with a couple of overblown English roses, just when it will do them most harm, it's their own affair. In fact, I suppose their positions with Dom John and his wife will carry it off for them. But you will marry to please me, Juana.'

‘I hope I shall marry to please both of us, ma'am.'

Emerging from the cloisters into the brilliant sunshine of the courtyard, Juana saw Vasco riding in at the castle gate and greeted him with unaffected pleasure: ‘Cousin, how glad I am to see you. I have to do an errand for my grandmother down to the Pleasant Valley. Will you come with me?' She could never forget Tomas' death, nor the shadow of the Sons of the Star that hung about the lower valley. Vasco would be a much more reassuring companion than Iago or Luis.

‘There is nothing I would like better.' He put such feeling into the words that Juana felt a momentary qualm. In the morning's emergency she had let herself forget the problem he presented. Well, it was too late now. And indeed the ride should give her a chance to get on to the kind of friendly cousin-to-cousin basis with him that she wanted.

Iago appeared with Sheba saddled and his long staff in his hand ready to accompany her.

‘Here!' Vasco threw him his horse's reins, picked up Juana as if she weighed nothing, and set her lightly in the saddle. ‘No need to ask if Sheba is happy here.' His arm stayed around her waist a moment longer than was necessary. ‘How often, this long winter, I have envied her.'

‘I can't tell you how grateful I have been to you for her, cousin.' She made it matter-of-fact.

‘It makes me very happy.' He took his reins from Iago. ‘We'll not need your man.'

‘No?' She was not sure about this.

‘No.' He vaulted into the saddle. ‘You,' to Iago. ‘Show my man where he may put my led horse.'

‘Senhora?' Iago stood obstinately where he was, prepared to take orders only from her, and Juana thought she heard Vasco mutter a curse under his breath.

‘Do as you are bid, Iago.' There was no need to make an issue of this. ‘My cousin will take care of me.'

‘You are well served.' Vasco said, as they rode out of the big gate and round the side of the castle.

She thought it cost him an effort to say it. He had not at all liked having Iago appeal from him to her. ‘Yes,' she said, to make it easier for him. ‘They're fond of me, I think.'

‘They'd be worse than brutes otherwise.' Once again, his voice was charged with more feeling than she was ready for. She was glad that they were busy for a while guiding their horses down the rough track that led to the peasants' houses at the head of the Pleasant Valley.

The labourers, who began work in the cool of the dawn, were already at home for their midday meal, and Juana rode slowly through the little group of houses, exchanging greetings with the family parties who sat, each in the shade of their own vine or fig tree, eating
bacalhau
and vegetables and drinking the valley's light red wine.

‘They live well, your people.' Vasco had ridden silently beside her until they were down into the valley itself. ‘It's no wonder they are grateful to you.'

‘Not to me, cousin. I merely do what my grandmother tells me. I wouldn't have the first idea of how to run an estate like this.'

‘Nor should a woman. I'm glad to hear it. There are more suitable occupations for the gentle sex.'

Now, suddenly, she was irritated. ‘Don't be absurd, cousin. I came to Portugal to help my grandmother. I may not know much about running an estate, but at least I can do my best, and what I'm told.'

‘Quite right. That is a woman's place.'

‘Thank you!' Her spurt of irritation communicated itself to Sheba who broke into an uneasy trot that made conversation impossible. They found Macarao peacefully eating black bread and garlic sausage under a fig tree by the pressing floor, but when he heard Mrs. Brett's summons he hurried to fetch his mule and ride away up the valley.

Juana made to follow him, but Vasco's hand on Sheba's reins held her back. ‘Stay a little, cousin. I've much to say to you, and we can't talk as we ride. Still less at the castle! Besides, you look tired out after your late night. Come and rest a while in the shade and let me tell you the story of my adventures in Europe.'

It reminded her, pleasantly, of the happy times they had spent together in the autumn and his stories of life in republican France. And she was tired. The shade looked cool and inviting. She was glad to let him lift her down from the saddle, but stiffened as he held her a moment longer than was necessary. ‘It's impossible to get a quiet word with you at the castle,' he began. And then: ‘What's the matter?' He must have felt her instinctive withdrawal. ‘Surely you know you're safe with me?'

‘Of course.' She had been surprised at her own reaction. ‘One of our men was killed down here,' she explained as much to herself as to him. ‘I don't much like the place.'

‘All the more monstrous that your grandmother should send you down here with no better protection than a servant.' As he spoke he was urging her gently but irresistibly across the dusty plateau to one of the vine-shaded benches where the women sat to watch the treading of the grapes. ‘It's all of a piece.' He took out his silk handkerchief and dusted the bench for her. ‘Nobody takes the slightest care of you up at the castle. I don't know which is worse, to let a fortune-hunter like Senhor Varlow dangle after you, or to send you off to risk your reputation at the Princess's. I cannot bear to think what would have happened if I had not got there when I did.'

‘It was timely, cousin. I have been wanting a chance to thank you. And to ask you how you came to arrive so luckily for me.' She had wondered about that a good deal.

‘By sheer good fortune. But let us not waste this precious moment talking about the past. It is the future I care about. I must have the right to protect you, cousin, as you should be protected, to care for you as you need caring for. I had meant to wait longer, to court you as a woman likes to be courted, but
to come back and find you in such a danger – it's more than a man can bear. Cousin, I have loved you since the first moment I saw you. It's for you – only for you – that I have worked so hard to clear my name. I can offer it you now, unsullied, my own: de Mascarenhas. There may be more to come, but take me now, Juana, on trust, as the man I am, and I swear to you, you will never regret it.' He lifted her hand which he had retained all this time, and covered it with kisses. ‘I have some influence, here in Portugal. Now my name is clear, I think I can say I have a great future. Think of wealth, Juana; think of power.'

‘As if I cared for that!'

Her thoughts had been racing as he spoke; had almost seemed to come full circle. Her first instinct had been resistance, refusal, but then a treacherous shiver at the continued pressure of his hand on hers had combined with a delicious sensation of relief at the idea of being looked after to counsel yielding. And then, again, something in his speech had made yielding impossible.

‘Spoken like yourself!' He pulled her toward him and she realised how completely he had misunderstood her.