‘Never.’ He had hold of both her hands. ‘You are going to marry a poor man, Harriet my darling, but you are going to marry me, and soon. I told my mother last night. She was not pleased, there’s no use pretending; we both knew she would not be. I have to tell you, my dearest love, that I do not think it will be possible for us to start our married life here in Oporto. My mother would make life impossible for you. So I am going to sell out to John Croft, who made me an offer for what remains of my unlucky business some time ago. He was good enough to say he would find me a place in his firm, but I think London would suit us much better, do not you? Away from Oporto’s busy tongues?’
‘But, Frank –’
‘No buts, my own. You are my own; you let me see it yesterday, and it is too late now to pretend second thoughts. You have changed my life, Harriet. I am my own man at last, no longer just my mother’s son. But it will be easier to make the change away from here. John Croft and Major Dickson both promise me help in finding work in London; it is merely to wait until something is settled there, and then we will be married, you and I, and say goodbye to Oporto and its thousand eyes and ears. But it is good to know that you will be safe with Madame Fonsa in the meanwhile. She is one of Oporto’s great ladies.’
‘Your mother will stay here?’ She had to ask it.
‘Yes. Croft promises her an annuity from the firm, God bless him. She will be able to keep the house, so long as she is prepared to go on taking lodgers after Craddock leaves. I wonder where he and Miss Gomez plan to live?’
It was not her place to tell him that Caterina was out in the garden with Jeremy that very moment, breaking off their engagement. ‘He is here now,’ she said, hearing voices from the terrace.
‘An early caller like me, and I hope as happy as I am. May I have the chance to say so?’ And before she could stop him, if indeed she wanted to, he had opened the door into the hall just as Caterina and Jeremy entered it from the garden. ‘Miss Gomez, Craddock,’ he moved forward impulsively. ‘It is good to have the chance to tell you both how very happy I am for you. And for myself –’ turning back to include Harriet.
‘Dear Mr Ware,’ Caterina smiled at him with great affection as Jeremy Craddock stood silent at her side. ‘We do thank you, but I am afraid we do not deserve your good wishes. Mr Craddock only offered for me out of the goodness of his heart, to save me from the silent sisters. Now that threat is lifted, thanks to Madame Fonsa, I have released him from the engagement. We would be most grateful if you would spare us the pain of making a public announcement to that effect. Perhaps, if you were to tell your mother, Mr Ware –?’ She smiled, to take the sting out of it.
‘She would certainly tell the world. But I am so sorry –’ What could he say?
‘Don’t be sorry, it has made us the best of friends.’ She took a quick decision. ‘But we want to talk to you. Would you come into the garden with us? Both of you.’
Safely out on the terrace, she turned to Jeremy. ‘Will you explain?’
Jeremy thought fast. ‘We are a little anxious, Miss Gomez and I, about your party,’ he told Frank. ‘I had a warning about it from an old market woman this very morning.’
‘A warning – what on earth did she say?’
‘Something about expecting a storm on Tuesday, and staying safe at home, my pretty lady and I.’ With a smile for Caterina. ‘She said it was some day or other – St Bruxa’s Eve. I never heard of a saint called that.’
‘Not a saint,’ Caterina exclaimed. ‘A devil. You didn’t tell me that!’
‘It quite slipped my mind.’
‘And nobody warned your mother.’ Turning to Frank. ‘How could I have forgotten the date? St Bruxa is the patron devil of the witches, here in Portugal. They call them bruxas,’ she explained. ‘Next Tuesday is her night – like your Halloween, only it is much worse – a night of wicked licence. No sensible person stirs abroad if they can help it. Someone should have told your mother, Frank.’
‘But who would?’ It was almost a groan. ‘The British don’t know, and the Portuguese must have seen it as a chance to make fools of us, or worse. But what’s to do? Impossible to change the date now. With Wellington coming – Oh!’
‘Just so,’ said Jeremy. ‘Think what a disaster if he should be caught up in one of the outbreaks of mob violence we know the Portonians to be capable of. Could you have a quiet word with the authorities, Ware? It will come better from you than from me.’
‘Indeed I will. And I’ll speak to John Croft too. He’s a good friend of Wellington’s. The great man may well be staying with him; he often does when he is in town. We must hope he tears himself away from his fox-hunting upriver in good time, and gets here to advise us. He is the master strategist, after all, but even I can see that the moment of danger will be when the men leave the Factory after dinner and walk down to our house. What a disaster if they should encounter a mob of witches and warlocks.’
‘Bruxas and lobishomes and feiticeiras,’ Caterina told him. ‘And none the less dangerous for having such outlandish names. Kill a man on Bruxa’s Eve, and leave marks on his throat, and all Porto will believe that he has been killed by the lobishomes – you call them werewolves.’
‘There will have to be patrols,’ said Jeremy. ‘Ware, do you think that your friend Croft would arrange for me to meet Lord Wellington? Without asking too many questions?’
‘I’m sure he would, if I asked him to. Without asking too many questions?’ With a friendly smile for Jeremy.
‘Precisely. And I do thank you. Oh – and Ware, let’s not alarm your mother with these fears of ours?’
‘I should rather think not,’ said Frank Ware.
‘Just the same, I wish you would hear something from Luiz,’ said Harriet. It was Sunday morning and the two girls had just come back from Mass at the Franciscans’.
‘Or even from Madame Feuillide. I quite agree with you. They must have heard about my “engagement” by now. I don’t know quite what I was afraid of, but I confess I do find this silence ominous.’
‘I’d noticed you were keeping quite close to the house,’ said Harriet. ‘And very wise too. I rather wish it would start raining again.’
‘I told Jeremy Craddock to keep out of dark alleys. I just hope he took me seriously. But I must say, it is a relief that Madame Fonsa has found Luiz’s informant in her house and got rid of him.’
‘Do you think he has one in this house too?’
‘I do hope not.’ With a quick glance at the door. ‘Madame Fonsa is sure that nothing will happen until the day of the party, and I think I agree with her. She is clever, that old lady. I wish you could have seen the letter she wrote to your mother, but she sent it straight off to catch the Plymouth packet. She had had her lawyer there and arranged about funds in Bath and everything. Just think, if your mother can find someone to bring him, Lewis could be here in two weeks or so. It all seems too good to be true. Oh Harryo, I would be so happy if I wasn’t so frightened.’
‘I know,’ said Harriet. ‘I feel just the same.’
‘I wish Lord Wellington would get here.’
‘Even if it does mean travelling on Sunday? So do I.’
Jeremy Craddock got his report safe on board the Plymouth packet on Monday afternoon and had returned to the discomforts of the Ware house when Croft’s summons to meet Wellington came. He was glad to get out of the house again. Mrs Ware had not spoken to her son except on matters of business since he had told her of his engagement. She went about her preparations for the party red-eyed and simmering, a volcano ready to erupt. Jeremy just hoped that the inevitable explosion would not happen until after the party, and promised himself that he would find other lodgings as soon as it was over, if, indeed, he did not take the next boat for England, as of course he should. Why did he not want to go? He could not remember ever being in such a state of confusion about his own plans. What in the world was the matter with him?
His summons had been to John Croft’s house rather than his offi
ce and he spent the short walk down the Rua Nova dos Inglesas trying to order his thoughts: the great man was notoriously impatient of muddled thinking.
The Croft house made him realise the pretentiousness of Mrs Ware’s. Here, glowing mahogany and silver, and the family story painted by Gainsborough and Romney, spoke of years of solid, prosperous living. The main Croft vineyard, he knew, was forty miles or so upriver at Cima Douro, and Croft himself was a known expert in the business.
He had not met him before, and liked him on sight. This was a man to be reckoned with. ‘I am surprised that you have not got a crowd outside the house,’ he said, when the first greetings were over, and Croft had explained that Wellington was still busy with the reports he had found waiting for him. ‘I thought Wellington was adored in Oporto.’ Had he perhaps hoped that an enthusiastic reception for the liberator of Oporto might put paid to any plans the French might have for next day?
‘It was Wellington’s own wish,’ explained Croft, gesturing his guest to a seat. ‘He very much dislikes being mobbed, however enthusiastically. He came downriver in one of the wine barges Dickson commandeered for his military supplies, and waited for dusk to slip ashore with the crew at Villa Nova de Gaia. The first I knew of his arrival was when he banged on my door an hour ago.’
‘He’s wasted no time.’
‘He never does. Ah.’ A servant had entered the room. ‘He’ll see you now.’
Wellington was in the big dining-room, with papers spread all over the mahogany table. He looked up at Jeremy without moving, the cold blue eyes sharp under frowning brows. ‘You were most urgent to see me, Mr Craddock. Sit down. Explain.’
‘I was sent here as a spy.’ Jeremy wasted no words. ‘To find the source of the leak in Oporto.’
‘Nobody told me. But that’s no surprise. And you found it, Mr Craddock?’
‘I found several.’ He plunged into his story, aware that this was a remarkable listener. The few questions Wellington interjected helped to clear up points about which he was still doubtful himself.
‘So you think this Miss Emerson told you the whole tale in the end?’ The cold eyes held his.
‘I thought so at the time, sir. Now, in retrospect, I am not so sure. She seemed –’ He paused. ‘Too pleased with herself.’
‘Ah. No need to look so cast down. I am sure you were right to let them go. Trouble with the Americans is something we could do without just now. The place is bound to be riddled with spies. Impossible for you to flush out the lot. And this young fool Luiz de Fonsa y Sanchez is tilting at some windmill of his own. Kingdom of Lusitania! Mind you,’ thoughtfully, ‘they fight well, that Loyal Lusitanian Legion. I’d liefer have them with me than against. And your thinking is that their demonstration will play into the hands of the French and leave me with Oporto to take all over again.’
‘Worse than that.’ It warmed Jeremy to be consulted like this. ‘I am sure they mean to kill you, sir. That’s their first priority. I am more and more certain that the date of the party was changed so that it would coincide with your coming. St Bruxa’s Eve was just a happy coincidence for them.’
‘Flattering,’ said Wellington. ‘Well, I don’t mean to be killed. Thank you, Craddock. You have done well. Tell your employers back in England that I said so. For what that is worth! And ask Croft to come to me, would you?’
The interview was over. Jeremy felt as if he had been put through a very efficient mangle. He gave Croft the message and emerged into the dark street. Where now? Too late to call on Caterina, though he longed to do so. How strange that the fact of telling his story to that acute listener had made him realise that his feelings for Rachel Emerson had never been more than an illusion. He had loved Caterina almost from the very first, certainly from those happy days at Falmouth. It was from his own feelings, as much as from her sharp eyes, that he had hidden on the crossing. Too successfully. I wonder if she has ever done a caricature of me, he thought, and turned reluctantly at last towards the misery of the Ware household.
‘I told him everything and he told me nothing.’ Jeremy summed up the interview for Caterina early next morning. He had been relieved to be admitted without question by old Tonio. ‘But he said I was right to let the Emersons go,’ he told her. ‘I had been worrying about that.’
‘Yes, I can imagine.’ How beautiful she was, in her plain morning dress, listening so intently.
‘Caterina!’ But this was not the moment. ‘I’ll tell you one thing, I’m not worrying any more, now I have met Wellington. It will be all right tonight. I’m sure of that.’
‘He must be quite a man.’
‘He is! But I’m ashamed. With all this going on, I have not thought enough about you. How are you proposing to get to the party tonight, you and Miss Brown?’
‘Why, in our sedan chairs, of course. Very early, long before the witches and warlocks are out. When she invited us Mrs Ware told us to come early, before the others guests. I expect she regrets it now, but never mind. Is she very angry about Frank and Harriet?’
‘I am afraid she is. She goes about looking ready to burst. I am glad you are to be there early; perhaps you may be able to calm her a little. But you must let me come and escort you.’
‘An Englishman! You’re not thinking, Mr Craddock. I am a Portuguese fidalgo. They are my people. It’s you British who are at risk tonight.’
‘But what about Luiz? What’s this?’ He was annoyed at the interruption.
‘A note from Madame Fonsa.’ She read it quickly. ‘Good gracious, what a woman! She has invited herself to Mrs Ware’s party. Proposes to go in her carriage and will take us with her. Now that will mean an early start. It is twice as far to the Wares’ house by carriage. Does that make you feel better?’
‘Yes, I must say it does. What an intrepid old lady. I wonder how Mrs Ware will take it?’
‘Perhaps you should go back and explain to her, just in case she does not know, that Madame Fonsa is one of the greatest ladies in Portonian society and is doing her an immense, an unprecedented honour.’
‘Miss Gomez –’
‘So formal!’ The dark eyes mocked him. ‘You called me Caterina just now.’
What had he meant to say? Instead: ‘Did you ever draw my caricature?’
‘Oh, dear me, yes. But hardly a caricature. I can’t tell you what a hero of romance I made you look. Goodness, what a long time ago that happy journey seems.’
‘Yes, a lifetime –’ But he had thought of something else. ‘And, Luiz, have you drawn him?’
‘Why, yes.’ She was blushing, and he was suddenly, furiously angry.
He controlled it: ‘May I see? Just in case – It would be useful to be able to recognise him.’
‘Of course it would.’ She reached into a portfolio and riffled through the drawings it contained. ‘Here you are, and here. That’s not a bad likeness.’
‘He’s devilish handsome.’ Jeremy fought down a tide of rage. ‘How well you draw.’ He was in control again.
‘Thank you.’ Dryly.
‘Caterina –’ But this time he was interrupted by Harriet, who bounced into the room, brimful of news. ‘There’s a proclamation being made about the streets,’ she told them. ‘Tonio heard it on his way back from market. The British Parliament has voted £100,000 for the relief of Portuguese suffering during the war, and Wellington is here to arrange its distribution. Mr Croft is going to handle it, apparently. I suppose Wellington told you about that when you saw him last night, Mr Craddock?’
‘Not a word.’ Jeremy was ashamed to be irked by this. ‘He keeps his own council, and one must respect him for it. Oh, I knew it was under discussion before I left England, but I thought it was meant mainly for the peasants who lost everything when the Lines of Torres Vedras were built. If Croft is handling it, he will know who was worst hit by the fighting here. It’s splendid news! It’s hard to see how anyone could whip up anti-British feeling in Oporto tonight.’
‘Money’s not everything,’ said Cateri
na.
‘No, but when you remember that it was Wellington himself who liberated Oporto from the French you have to see that it is a powerful combination.’
‘So long as you are not pro-French. Goodness, Mr Ware, we did not hope to see you this morning!’
‘Forgive me for bursting in on you, but I’ve no time to lose today. My mother sent me to ask if you had heard anything from Madame Feuillide. She was supposed to come first thing this morning to help with the final arrangements, but there has been no sign of her, and no message.’
‘Well that is a piece of good news,’ said Jeremy. ‘Wellington has lost no time. I imagine she has been arrested as a suspected French sympathiser. I do wonder if anyone else was arrested with her.’
‘So do I,’ said Caterina. ‘But, Mr Ware, don’t tell your mother until after her party. And now, if you gentlemen will excuse us, Harriet and I must think about making ourselves beautiful for it.’
Chapter 17
It was strange to put on the evening gowns Madame Feuillide had made while knowing she was under arrest. ‘I hope they aren’t too hard on her,’ said Harriet as they gathered their wraps around them and made their way through the house to the stable yard.
‘She’ll talk her way out of it,’ said Caterina. ‘I just wish we knew –’
‘I know.’ No need to speak Luiz’s name. Harriet caught her friend’s hand and pressed it. ‘Poor Cat, I am sorry!’ Luiz was her one-time lover, the father of her child, and the best she could hope for him was that he was safe away to a discredited life in France.
‘I hope they have got him,’ said Caterina. ‘Oh, look, she is using the old Fonsa coach.’ The huge lumbering vehicle had just pulled into the yard. ‘With the Fonsa arms on it, do you see?’
‘I am afraid I don’t understand,’ said Harriet.
‘No, love, why should you? She wants to be seen as Fonsa today, not Sanchez in her son-in-law’s carriage, bearing his arms.’
‘And her grandson’s. I see. Oh, poor Madame Fonsa.’
‘Nothing poor about her,’ said Caterina. ‘You wait till you meet her.’
Whispering Page 21