Read The Winding Stair Online

Authors: Jane Aiken Hodge

The Winding Stair (32 page)

‘No!' She held back. ‘I'm sorry; you don't understand. I meant to say that if I cared for you, nothing else would matter.'

‘But you do!' Sitting beside her, he was tall as she. ‘Your hand has told me so. See, it trembles when I touch it. You're mine, Juana; your body knows it, if your mind does not. I'll show you.' His other arm was round her waist, pulling her to him. He was enormously strong; ruthlessly gentle. Half of her wanted to fight; half to yield. His lips found hers. She had never been kissed before. Reason rocked on its foundations. It was heaven. It was forgetting everything; it was losing oneself. His tongue forced itself between her lips; his body was hot against hers. It was nightmare. She was afraid, afraid even to pull away.

‘I told you.' When he freed her to speak, her lips felt bruised. She was shaking all over; and still part of her was grateful for the support of his arm around her waist.

‘No,' she said again. ‘I don't know you, cousin.' And, saying it, realised how true it was.

The brown eyes that held her own so steadily were at once tender and, surely, condescending. ‘I've been too sudden for you, little one. Forgive me. My feelings overcame me. I've loved you so hard since first I saw you. But I promise you, I'll not touch you again till you give me leave. I shall wait, my love, until you
come to me of your own accord, till you offer me those lips that are my heaven.'

‘But—'

‘No more now.' He touched her lips, very gently, with a hot finger. ‘Say nothing. Only remember I am all yours, and give me leave to prove it to you. I will ask you again,
menina
, and again, if need be. But, believe me, I know your heart better than you do yourself.'

For the moment, she was glad to leave it at that, though she knew herself cowardly to do so. She regretted it when they got back to the castle and she became aware of a subtle difference in his behaviour to her, and, equally, knew that the rest of the party were noticing it too. More than once, during dinner, she caught Daisy's or Teresa's bright speculative eye fixed on her. She thought she was glad when Vasco rose, soon after dinner, to take his leave. But he had one more thing to say to her. ‘Remember'– he bent low over her hand – ‘if the time should come when you need a Portuguese hand and heart, they are all yours.'

After this, it was disconcerting to have Senor Gonçalves urge on her the necessity of marrying a Portuguese without delay. At her grandmother's request, she had joined them in Mrs. Brett's rooms where they had already been talking for more than an hour, and Mrs. Brett lay exhausted among her pillows. ‘He will explain it all to you, Juana, better than I can. Listen to him, child, for all our sakes.'

And the lawyer, horribly embarrassed, had explained the urgency of her making what he called a suitable marriage. ‘Ideally, of course, a pure Portuguese. I have told Mrs. Brett that a marriage with one of the Brett-Alvidrars, though better than nothing, still has its aspects of hazard.'

‘It's impossible,' said Juana. ‘My grandmother knows perfectly well that Pedro and Roberto love my step-sisters. But, senhor, surely you can persuade her that the answer is simply to change her will.'

He looked, poor man, more harassed than ever. ‘But, senhora, I have tried; I've done everything. She says it's impossible. And I tell you, unless something is done soon, you will lose the Castle on the Rock. All of you. Your uncles, your aunt. Imagine! They've lived all their lives here. What will happen to them? Most particularly your aunt …'

‘Yes.' Elvira was always miserable when she had to leave the
castle, even for a few hours. To have to leave it for good would probably kill her.

‘Senhora!' The old lawyer had drawn her away from the bed toward the red-curtained window. ‘Forgive me; this is painful for both of us. But your grandmother seemed to think there might be a Portuguese gentleman – She seemed to have hopes—'

‘I see.' Of course she saw. ‘When you need a Portuguese hand and heart,' Vasco had said. What she could not understand was why her grandmother should favour the marriage. ‘I don't understand,' she said now, looking past the lawyer to the bed where the old lady lay still as death, somewhere between sleeping and waking. ‘You're sure she won't change her will?'

‘Yes. And, frankly, if she did, I'm not sure, in her condition, whether a new one would stand.'

‘Oh!' This was a new and frightening thought. ‘Senhor Gonçalves, how much time do you think I've got?'

‘It's running out fast for all of us, senhora. I beg you to think hard of what I have said. In the meanwhile I have your grandmother's instructions to book passages on the packet for your parents and your step-sisters.' The enquiring glance with which he said this showed her more clearly than anything else that now, at last, he had accepted her as the heir to the castle. In future he would not act without her consent as well as her grandmother's orders.

‘Have they been consulted?' she asked now.

‘I don't know.'

‘Then they must be. Will you come with me, senhor? She's asleep, I think. We won't disturb her.'

As they had expected, Daisy and Teresa refused to go. ‘No one is going to arrest us.'

‘And we've no property to confiscate.'

‘You won't make us, Juana?'

‘Quite heartless,' said their mother. Juana and the lawyer had visited them in their own apartments where they had found her dozing stertorously in a chair. Her condition was all too obvious. Now she cried a little, noisily. ‘My own daughters,' she said. ‘That I've loved and cherished. You must make them come home with us, Mr. Brett.'

‘Father!'

‘Please!'

Reginald Brett looked even more miserable than usual. ‘I'm afraid my mother must decide, my dears.' he said.

Senhor Gonçalves had taken in the whole deplorable scene. Now he cleared his throat apologetically. ‘Mrs. Brett is old and ill,' he said. ‘I rather fancy that she will acquiesce in anything that the young senhora decides.'

‘Juana!' said the two girls in unison.

Juana had a long look of sympathy for her father. But: ‘Of course you must stay if you want to.' she said. ‘I shall be glad of your company.'

‘So long as they understand the hazards.' said the lawyer, rising to take his leave. ‘And you, Miss Brett, you will think hard of what I have said to you?'

‘Of course.' Send for Vasco? Marry him for her own safety? The idea was intolerable. But why? She had to emerge from her daydream to accept Daisy and Teresa's enthusiastic thanks. ‘Senhor Gonçalves said it was all your doing,' said Daisy.

‘You'll never know how grateful we are,' said Teresa.

Chapter Eighteen

Reginald and Cynthia Brett left the next week, and though Juana felt horribly sorry for her father, she had to admit that it was a relief to see them go. Life was bad enough at the castle without the constant scenes Cynthia Brett had made. Elvira had been stranger than ever since Carlota Joaquina's party and wandered about forlornly from room to room, singing snatches from
The Groom Deceived
. She had given up any attempt at embroidery and carried, instead, skeins of silk, which she wound and unwound endlessly. Prospero said he was revising his Camoens and spent most of his time shut up in the library, while Miguel was increasingly disturbed because Father Ignatius had not been seen since the day of the Princess's party. Since no one but Juana knew of the sinister part the friar had played in the opera, this seemed inexplicable, and Miguel, who depended on Father Ignatius for all the real work in connection with his Little Brothers of St. Antony, took it more and more to heart.

Juana was worried about Father Ignatius too. At first, she had been glad when he did not put in an appearance. She had never liked him, and found his part in the plot against her unforgivable. But when he neither came nor sent any apology or explanation she found herself increasingly frightened for him. She could not help connecting his disappearance with the mysterious death of Tomas. Tomas, she had thought, had recognised her when he was serving as acolyte to the Sons of the Star. And Tomas had died that same night. Could there be a connection between Father Ignatius' involvement in the plot against her and his disappearance? She hoped she was imagining things, but longed passionately to see Gair and put her fears to him. She almost found herself looking forward to the July meeting of the Sons of the Star, because it must mean a visit from him for her report.

The meeting fell on the 19th, the very day that Reginald and Cynthia Brett left. It was easy enough to suggest an early night for all of them, since they had been up with the dawn to see off the travellers. It was easy, too, to plead anxiety for her grandmother and go to visit her on her way to her own room.
Mrs. Brett had not left her bed since the news of Tilsit. Juana had hoped that with the departure of her father and step-mother the old lady might take on a new lease of life, might even begin to come downstairs again, but tonight she could only wonder whether she would ever summon up enough strength to leave her bed. She seemed to be reduced to an enormous pair of eyes. They followed Juana, disconcertingly, this way and' that, as she put on her black dress and got ready to go down the winding stair.

When Juana was ready, a feeble hand summoned her over to the bed. ‘Child!' She spoke with difficulty, in a croaking whisper. ‘I'm sorry. Whatever happens, forgive me?'

‘Of course.' Juana put her warm hand on the dry claw that lay on the sheets. ‘There's nothing to forgive. Whatever happens, I'm glad I came.' It was true, though she could not imagine why.

‘God bless you!' But already the old eyes were hooded in sleep.

When Juana opened the secret panel she knew at once that the real leader was back. There was something electric in the air of the cavern, and the squat, strong figure under the star was unmistakable. The only surprising thing was that at the moment he seemed almost to be apologising for the cancellation of the last two meetings. ‘We were waiting,' he explained, ‘until the situation in Poland was clearer. Now, at last, Brothers, we know, where we stand. Napoleon has dealt with the Russians: they will not dare meddle in Europe again in our lifetime. Now he is ready to turn his eyes back to the west. Already, Portugal is shaking under his ultimatum. Brothers, our moment is at hand!'

‘What, precisely, do you mean by that?' The Brother of the Silver Serpent was on his feet.

‘That I have Napoleon's promise of armed assistance in our plan to take over the government of our suffering country,' But Juana did not think he had much liked the question.

‘And have you also his promise that he will withdraw his forces when Dom John has fallen?'

‘Brother,' said the leader, ‘I know you for a new member, and treat your questions therefore with more patience than I might otherwise show, but do not tempt me too far. I tell you of a powerful ally in our fight for freedom, and you can think of nothing but a series of miserable quibbles. When Portugal is free,
we will be masters here, and no one else. No one, then, will stay in our country without our leave.'

‘But when do we act?' asked the Brother of the Silver Hand.

‘Not for a little while yet, Brother. The French ultimatum does not expire until the first of September.'

‘But suppose Dom John yields at once and gets rid of the English?'

‘He will not. I know it. We have ample time to concert our plans. Most important of all is to be sure that the army is on our side when the moment of action comes. I suggest that our new Brother of the Silver Serpent be deputed to visit General Gomez Freire at his headquarters on the coast and make sure that he is safe for us. Is it agreed, Brothers?'

‘Agreed,' went the murmur round the table.

‘It is well. And now, Brothers, we have a painful duty to perform. A traitor to the Star awaits your verdict. Bring in the prisoner, my sons.'

As the two acolytes moved away from the table, Juana remembered to close the secret panel. But how would she know when to open it again? She must open it. The traitor might be anyone. Gair? Vasco? She must know. She counted ten, as for the beginning of a meeting, then, very slowly, ten again. Her hand shook uncontrollably as she opened the panel.

The acolytes stood facing the council table with a hooded figure between them. As when the new member had been admitted at the March meeting, each of them held one end of a noose that lay lightly around their prisoner's neck.

There was a little, horrible pause. Then the leader spoke: ‘Brother of the Lion,' he said. ‘You are brought here for judgment by your Brothers. I now proclaim you a traitor to your order, a betrayer of our trust, a conspirer with our enemies. What is the penalty, Brothers, for one who has done this?' He turned to the Brother on the right.

‘Death.'

Juana shuddered as the word went round the table. But the Brother of the Silver Serpent was on his feet. ‘What has he done?' he asked.

‘Tell them, Brother of the Ragged Staff, since they wish to know.'

‘He has admitted it all, in the cells of the Star. Is it your wish that I read you his confession?'

‘It's not true!' The hooded prisoner screamed. ‘I was forced—' But the leader had made a sign to the two acolytes who pulled suddenly on the rope around his neck and his words ended in a horrible choking sound. He swayed and fell.

‘The mercy of the Star is infinite.' said the leader. ‘He died fast, who should have died slowly. Read his confession, Brother of the Ragged Staff.'

‘It was horrible.' Juana told Gair next day. ‘They carried him away at the end of the meeting as if he'd been a thing – a sack of potatoes. And the “confession” didn't seem to add up to much anyway. I thought the Brother of the Silver Serpent would ask more questions, but I suppose he thought it was too late, with the poor man dead.'

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