Whispering

by Jane Aiken Hodge

  ‘Brave words,’ said Father Pedro.

  ‘Believe that I mean them.’ And the odd thing was that it was true.

  ‘I have listened to enough of this ranting.’ Gomez’s hand was on the bell-pull. ‘Tonio, show Mr Craddock out. He will not be admitted again.’

  The great door slammed behind him. Too late, Jeremy wished he had insisted on seeing Caterina again, but he had been too angry to think straight. He was still trying to marshal his furious thoughts when he reached the marketplace. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and watch the women packing up their wares for the day. He had committed himself to so much, and yet got nowhere. And what in the world was he going to do now?

  First, he thought, he must write to the Bishop of Oporto. That had been no idle threat; he well remembered with what affection Caterina had spoken of him on their happy voyage out. And then, he must look a little into the affairs of the firm of Gomez, Sanchez and Brown. Something Joe Camo had said had made him wonder whether they, like the Wares, might not have been hard hit by the years of war. It seemed all too likely when once he started really thinking about it. But this brought him to another problem. Was he going to declare his interest to Camo? And should he not consult Caterina first? He wished more than ever now that he had not let that door shut behind him, but it was too late for that kind of afterthought. Anyway, the answer was obvious. The more widely news of their engagement was spread, the greater the protection for Caterina.

  ‘Craddock.’ Was it the second time his name had been spoken? He looked up and saw Major Dickson, his arms full of bundles.

  ‘Dickson! What in the world are you doing here?’

  ‘Buying fruit at a price I can afford. I enjoy this market. It’s a pity the prices they charge our troops are so much higher. But what’s the news with you, Craddock? Are you on your way to dine at the Factory?’ They had fallen into step side by side as they crossed the emptying marketplace.

  ‘Maybe. I hadn’t thought.’ Here was a chance to tell his tale, and perhaps to learn something too. He knew Dickson for a man very much at the centre of things. ‘I’ve just come from the Gomez house,’ he went on. ‘Congratulate me, Dickson, I am the happiest of men. Miss Gomez has said she will be my wife.’ There, it was out, and he was glad.

  ‘Goodness gracious.’ Dickson suddenly sounded very Scots. ‘I do congratulate you, Craddock. But –’ a pause, ‘with her father’s consent?’

  ‘No, there’s the rub. I’ve just been shown the door and told not to come back.’

  ‘Drastic,’ said Dickson. ‘And odd, surely. I thought the word in town was that he fetched her over just so as to get himself a biddable son-in-law. Excuse me –’

  ‘No need to apologise. Lord knows I have made such a public fool of myself, here in Oporto, I must seem like anyone’s tool. But evidently not one Gomez wants –’

  ‘So something has happened to change his views. I wonder what.’

  They had left the marketplace now and plunged into the tangle of lanes that led down to the English Factory and the quay. ‘Has it struck you, Craddock, that we are so busy fighting our own war that we tend to forget just how hard things are here in Oporto? Those market women are close to starvation, many of them. It’s hard not to buy from all of them, and the prices are absurd. It can hardly be worth their walking in from their hovels in the country round, but they do it just the same. And their men just as desperate. I don’t altogether like the feel of things here. And if things are so bad at the grassroots, who knows what is going on higher up? Maybe Gomez doesn’t feel his affairs can stand up to the inquisitive eye of a prospective son-in-law.’

  ‘And proposes to shuffle his daughter off to the silent sisters before she starts asking awkward questions!’ exclaimed Jeremy. ‘That’s what he plans, you know, the day after the Wares’ party.’

  ‘Monstrous,’ said Dickson. ‘We can’t let that happen. What do you plan to do?’

  ‘I thought I’d write to the Bishop of Oporto.’ It sounded absurdly inadequate as he said it. ‘He’s her godfather, I believe.’

  ‘He’s also a very busy man down in Lisbon. Several days’ ride away, and no guarantee of an immediate answer. Oh, a useful threat, I grant you, but for more immediate protection, I suggest you make sure to introduce the young lady, as your fiancée, to the guest of honour at the party next Tuesday. I know we are not supposed to mention the name but you and I both know he’s always had an uncle’s eye for a pretty girl, and he’s great on the Anglo-Portuguese alliance. Entirely between ourselves, it is partly because of something I said to him, last time I was upriver, about the state of things here in Oporto that he is making this “surprise” visit. Your problem might come quite apropos to his thinking. Would you be appalled to find yourself married to the girl out of hand, with an honour guard of British dragoons?’

  ‘No, but she would.’ He regretted the words the minute they were spoken, but Dickson was laughing.

  ‘You make me quite long to meet the young lady.’ He paused at the corner of the Rua Nova dos Inglesas. ‘I must get rid of my burden of fruit. Shall I see you at the Factory, Craddock? I’m off upriver in the morning to meet the great man.’

  ‘Not today, I think. I feel I rather owe it to my landlady to tell her my news before it reaches her by the Portonian grapevine.’

  ‘You are absolutely right, and how Mrs Ware would hate to hear you call her your landlady. So, the news is public?’

  ‘As public as possible. The engagement, that is. No need to speak of old Gomez’s reaction. The more I think about it, the more I hope he will sleep on it and settle for me as a lesser evil.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Dickson, ‘But less than what?’

  Left alone, Jeremy looked at his watch. Joe Camo observed the Portuguese habit of siesta and should be just back in his office. There was comfortable time to call on him before the Wares’ English dinner hour. And if anyone could throw light on the Gomez business it would be Joe Camo.

  He was glad to find Camo alone, reading vintage reports in his sumptuous, mahogany-furnished office.

  ‘Of course I have a moment for you. I’m glad enough to leave this depressing reading.’ He put down the last report. ‘It is going to be a bad winter, here in Porto. But what can I do for you, Craddock? Don’t tell me those Emersons have changed their minds again?’

  ‘No, it’s not that. Something quite else.’ How very awkwardly it came in the context of the Emersons. ‘The case is, Camo, that I am the happiest of men. Miss Gomez has said she will be my wife.’

  ‘Caterina Gomez? Well, I’ll be –’ He broke off, held out his hand. ‘I do congratulate you, Craddock, with all my heart. I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting her, but a delightful young lady, by all reports, and full of character.’

  ‘She’s going to need all of it. Her father has turned me down, forbidden me the house.’

  ‘Has he so? On what grounds, may I ask?’

  ‘My wretched health.’

  ‘But you don’t believe that is the real reason?’

  ‘No, I don’t think I do. That éminence grise of his, Father Pedro, was with him throughout the interview. I did wonder –’

  ‘As well you might. A pity the old man did not send for his daughter sooner. He’s the only active partner in the firm, did you know? And not active enough, by what I hear. Don’t think it’s a fortune you are marrying, Craddock.’

  ‘It’s a woman!’ Absurd to be angry. ‘And she needs protection, Camo. Her father means to send her to the Little Sisters of Saint Seraphina.’

  ‘The silent order? You can’t mean it.’

  ‘I’m afraid so. The day after the Wares’ party. You know how things go on here better than most, Camo. Could he do it?’

  ‘Her father, and she not of age? Oh yes, he could do it all right, and it would be the devil’s own job to get her out again. What are you going to do, Craddock?’

  ‘I wish to God I knew. First of all, I mean to write to the Bishop of Oporto, who is her godfa
ther. Is there a ship sailing for Lisbon, Camo?’

  ‘No, and if there were, it would take too long to get an answer back, still less by courier, granted the state of the roads. But you write your letter, Craddock, and I will see it goes off by the swiftest route.’

  ‘Thank you. I knew I could count on you.’

  ‘Your best friend, and the young lady’s, is going to be public opinion. It’s a pity the Portuguese gentry have chosen to ignore Miss Gomez, they would be her strongest allies at this point.’

  ‘Major Dickson suggests I make a point of introducing her as my fiancée to the guest of honour at the Wares’ party, enlisting his support.’

  ‘And a very good idea. I will leave you in peace to write your letter, Craddock, while I make arrangements for its delivery.’

  ‘He refuses his consent.’ After the brief, stormy interview with her father, Caterina had told her furious tale.

  ‘Refuses? But it was he –’

  ‘Precisely. He says he didn’t know Mr Craddock was such a sick man. Unfit to help him in the business. He claims. Beyond that, he refused to discuss it. Just said we should be packing our things.’

  ‘For the silent sisters?’

  ‘Yes, but we’re not going.’

  ‘Of course not. But – have you any money, Cat?’

  ‘Not a scudo. I spent it all on drawing materials, and not much good has come of that. I had hoped that maybe after the party I’d sell some of my pictures. No chance of that now. Thank goodness you were able to write to your mother and tell her how hopeful things look for little Lewis.’

  ‘Yes.’ Harriet managed a laugh. ‘He’ll be living off the fat of the land, bless him, once my mother knows there is a rich great-grandmother in the background. Do you know, Cat, the more I think about it, the more I think you had best tell the old lady about this threat of your father’s. She’s bound to hear about it anyway, and it will come best from you.’

  ‘You are absolutely right,’ said Caterina. ‘I’ll write a quick note and have Tonio get it across the canyon before night. With a bit of luck there will be one from her soon, telling me what she means to do about Luiz. And what the lawyers say. I should think it would take some fixing to turn my Lewis from a bastard into the Fonsa heir.’

  ‘And what will they make of you?’

  ‘I wish to goodness I knew. If only there had been more time to talk. She’s formidable, that old lady. I did wonder if she might not want me out of the picture …’

  ‘Have him all to herself? You couldn’t allow that.’

  ‘Of course not. Time to cross that bridge when we come to it.’ Oh, goodness, with all this going on, I’ve done nothing about warning Jeremy Craddock. I hardly like to write to him, even if we are supposed to be engaged. And my father has forbidden him the house, did I tell you that?’

  ‘No,’ said Harriet. ‘How absolutely Gothic. Do you think he is in his right mind, Cat?’

  ‘I think he has talked to no one but Father Pedro for so long that he has quite forgotten what the real world is like.’

  ‘But surely, at the office –’

  ‘They are all his inferiors there, terrified of him –’

  ‘It can’t be good for the business,’ said practical Harriet. ‘In fact, Mr Ware did say something, the other day, that made me wonder a little. Oh, Cat, you do know, don’t you, that if he should ever … that if I … oh, I don’t even dare think of it, but there would always be a home for you.’

  ‘Dear Harryo.’ They kissed each other silently.

  ‘But he won’t,’ said Harriet. ‘His mother won’t let him. And I’m not sure that I should, even if he were still to want me when I’d told him.’

  ‘Don’t think about it, love. It makes me superstitious. And, besides, I must write my dreary tale to the old lady. Do you realise that in less than a week’s time, the day after the party, we may be condemned to the silent sisters.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Harriet soberly. ‘I do indeed.’

  Chapter 14

  Jeremy Craddock dropped what he did not know was his bombshell at the Wares’ dinner table that evening. He had been glad to find Mrs Ware and her son dining alone, and seized an early chance to ask them to join him in a toast: ‘To my fiancée,’ he said. ‘Miss Gomez has made me the happiest of men.’

  ‘Miss Gomez?’ Wine spilled from Mrs Ware’s glass. ‘I don’t believe it!’

  ‘Mother –’ Frank shot a warning glance at the liveried servants waiting at table. ‘I do congratulate you, Craddock.’ He raised his glass and drank. ‘A delightful girl. It will make our party on Tuesday more of a celebration than ever.’ Another quick look for his mother, who was sitting rigid between them, scarlet spots clashing with the rouge on her normally pale cheeks. ‘You will be settling with us here in Oporto then?’

  ‘I’m not so sure of that. Her father dislikes the match, I am sorry to say. He has actually forbidden me the house. I was hoping for your good offices, Ware, to keep me in touch with my fiancée.’ He was furious with himself for having failed to recognise Mrs Ware’s plans for her son and Caterina. What a blind fool he had been.

  ‘Nonsense.’ Mrs Ware found her voice. ‘Of course Gomez dislikes the match. You’ll have no part in this, Frank.’

  ‘I am sorry to disagree with you, mother.’ He looked from her to Jeremy. ‘But what in the world has got into old Gomez?’

  ‘He talks of sending the two girls to the Little Sisters of St Seraphina.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘On Wednesday.’

  ‘But he has no right –’

  ‘Certainly none as regards Miss Brown, but Joe Como says a Portuguese father could do this to his daughter if he wished.’

  ‘Barbarous,’ said Frank.

  ‘Well, they are,’ said his mother, who seemed to have recovered herself. They none of them noticed that one of the footmen had slipped quietly from the room.

  The servant who took Caterina’s second note to Madame Fonsa brought back only her answer to the first one. The old lady had already retired to her room when he got there, he explained, and nobody dared disturb her until next day. The note he brought was short and to the point, written in the old lady’s own spidery hand: ‘Thank you. Keep away from him.’

  ‘As if I would do anything else,’ Caterina told Harriet. ‘It’s Jeremy I’m worried about now. I do hope she gets up early and does something at once.’

  ‘Poor woman,’ said Harriet. ‘Her own grandson. She must have so hoped you would prove him innocent. I’m afraid you must face it, Cat, it’s bound to take a bit of time for her to make up her mind. And then she will have to prove to the authorities that she’s not the mad old thing people have thought her. I have the horridest feeling that Luiz is going to hear about your “engagement” and do something drastic to Jeremy Craddock long before his grandmother does anything about him. I do think you ought to warn Mr Craddock, Cat.’

  ‘But how?’

  ‘Well, you can’t tonight, that’s for sure.’ She put down her sewing. ‘It’s been a long day. I think bed, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’ But Caterina sat up for hours in her bedroom, trying and failing to write a warning note to Jeremy about Luiz. It was impossible, she decided at last. Her story was not one to be told in writing. She must see him somehow.

  It was pouring with rain again in the morning and there was no word from across the canyon. ‘I doubt if anyone would cross in this,’ said Caterina gloomily as she and Harriet finished an anxious breakfast.

  ‘And no one will call either,’ said Harriet. ‘Oh how I wish we were in England, love, and all well.’

  ‘I wish we had never come!’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Harriet turned to the door, where Tonio had appeared.

  ‘The Senhor Ware has called, minha senhora. He apologises for the early hour and asks to see you urgently. Alone.’

  ‘Me?’ Harriet sat as if paralysed for a moment, looking at Caterina. ‘Cat –’ She paused, tried again. ‘If he should – if it wer
e … I’d have to tell him –’

  ‘I think it’s time for some telling,’ said Caterina. ‘Off you go, love, don’t keep the urgent gentleman waiting. And don’t let him go without seeing me.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Here at least was a reliable messenger.

  Harriet was trembling when she joined Frank Ware in the library, where he had been shown by a servant surprised and interested by the early visit.

  ‘Miss Brown –’ He came forward as the servant closed the door silently behind her. ‘Harriet! Craddock told us his good news last night. It’s the best I ever heard. Or it would be if it were not for this lunacy of old Gomez’s. Is it really true that he means to pack the two of you off to the silent sisters next week?’

  ‘On Wednesday.’ Her hand was still in his.

  ‘We can’t let it happen,’ he said. ‘Craddock is doing his best to stop it, but it will take time.’

  ‘And there is no time.’

  ‘Exactly. I’m glad you see it. Harriet!’ The way he used her name said it all. ‘I had meant to wait until I had a future to offer you, but I can’t now. You must give me the right to protect you both, you and your friend. Let’s not pretend with each other, my love, there’s no time for that. We love each other, you and I, we know it. Say you’ll marry me, Harriet?’ He was beginning to pull her to him, happily sure of her answer.

  ‘No! Not yet.’ She held back, meeting his eyes, with tears in hers. ‘It’s not your future that’s the problem, Frank Ware, it is my past.’

  ‘I don’t care a straw for your past. And anyway I know about it, love. My mother had enquiries made, I am ashamed to tell you. She told me just the other day. I know all about your mother, and your birth, and the home for foundling children. It doesn’t matter, I tell you. It’s you I want to marry, not your mother. And, besides, one must respect her for making her own way in the world. Just what I mean to do myself.’

  She stood there, for a long moment, meeting his eyes, thinking about it, horribly tempted. Then: ‘I am more grateful than I can say. It only makes me love you more, makes it harder, but I have to tell you. There is more.’