by Jane Godman
He drained his glass in one swift gulp. “No point in hanging around here,” he said, grabbing my hand and marching me swiftly out of the bar and along the deck toward our cabin. “Time for you to live up to your promises and find out just what that pretty mouth is capable of, Annie van der Merwe.”
Later, as I lay in his arms in the familiar cramped bed, the words I knew he had been desperate to say were dragged from him at last. “I love you, Annie. I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you in the rose garden at Tenebris. Which is a bit worrying given that I thought you were a boy.” I didn’t answer. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
I shifted my position slightly so that I could look up at him. The only light in the room was the dull gold glow of the gaslight, throwing his face into shadow. “Yes, I know it. And knowing it is the best thing I have in my life.” I bit my lip. I wished—oh, how much I wished—I could say it back to him. “I don’t know if I love you, Nicca. I think I might, but I can’t be sure. I thought I loved Uther, you see, and look how that turned out. I do know I need you. And I really enjoy making love with you. Can that be enough…for now?”
“No,” he said bluntly, jerking me hard against his chest again. “But I suppose I’ll just have to put up with all the lovemaking while you work it out.”
Chapter Eleven
All too soon the distinctive flat-topped mountain with its tablecloth of white mist came into view. Since the unification of South Africa twelve years earlier, Cape Town had become a city without an identity. The old colonial certainties were at an end. The grand buildings remained, but the power had moved elsewhere. There was gold in the Transvaal and the Cape Province had been relegated to the status of poor relation. It was still a staggeringly beautiful city, however, with its distinctive gabled buildings and colourful gardens. This was not the end of our voyage, but we went ashore just to feel solid ground beneath our feet once more. I strolled around the picturesque harbour with my arm through Nicca’s and tried to pretend that I was taking the air with my swain. I wasn’t fooling myself, or him. We were biding our time, waiting for the awful reality of Uther’s arrival. After all, there was good chance that when it happened, I would push Nicca aside and launch myself into his brother’s arms without a moment’s hesitation. Even if he happened to be pointing a gun at my own brother’s head at the time.
“How long will it take him to catch up with us?” Finty asked, looking nervously out at the expanse of the Indian Ocean as we set sail once more on the following morning.
Nicca shrugged. “I can only give you my best estimate. If I’m right about Wilson’s death, I would expect Uther to have stayed in London for the inquest. He will want to find out what information the police had about the murder. Don’t forget, at that point he would not have known that we were gone. We can thank the lack of a telephone system in the village at Athal for helping us in this instance. Even if he tried to contact Annie by letter, he will not have had a response, but that won’t have rung any alarm bells. I think Arthur Wilson probably bought us another week.”
“From now or from when we left?” Rudi asked.
“From now. Uther will have to have figured out where we’ve gone, but that won’t take any great leap of his imagination. He’ll find the wreck of his desk and work it out pretty quickly. And, of course, the servants at Athal House will tell him when we set off and that we were all together, although he may not know that Finty and I have accompanied you to Africa. He is likely to make for Southampton, as we did. There are other ships that sail for the cape from other British ports, but these Union Castle sailings are the most regular and the easiest on which to get a last-minute passage. If he’s lucky, and weather permitting, Uther will get a ticket for the sailing on Thursday this week. The journey will take him just over two weeks, so he will arrive in South Africa in about three weeks from now. I would expect him to disembark in Cape Town and begin his enquiries there. That will slow him down further.”
“So, by the time he gets to South Africa, we will already have been at home—at Sonskyn Kraal—for several weeks,” I said.
“Does Uther know where your grandmother’s kraal actually is, Annie? Have you ever given him any clue to its exact location?”
I had already wracked my brains about this, but I was sure I had not. Uther had never taken any great interest in my background, other than occasionally ribbing me about my accent, and, when he and I were alone together, idle conversation had never been a priority for us. My cheeks flamed at the thought. “No, he will not find us easily.” I was adamant. “South Africa is an enormous country, and Natal is a vast, sparsely populated province. If he starts looking for us in the cape, he could be there forever, and van der Merwe is a common name in South Africa.”
“But you are twins. And you, at least, Annie, are not easy to forget.” Nicca grinned at Rudi. “No offence. He’ll employ help of some sort in the task of finding you. The passenger list from the ship will be useful, if he can get access to it. I’ve tried to ensure that he can’t, but money talks in these situations. I don’t imagine that Uther will come dashing up to the front door and enact the role of the wounded suitor, anyway. He won’t be expecting a warm welcome. Confrontation is not Uther’s style. He is more devious than that.”
I thought of the poison bottle in his room and of Arthur Wilson, stabbed to death and left in a burning building. I hoped that Tristan and Eleanor would be safe, but I suspected that Tristan had Uther’s measure. He, of all people, knew what the Jago darkness could do.
“Will he come at all?” Finty asked, again the intensity of the fear in her voice surprised me. But, of all of us, she had seen at first-hand what Uther had tried to do to Rudi. “Why bother when we all know what an absolute bounder he is? Perhaps he’ll just slink away into the shadows.”
“He will come.” The three of us answered together, effectively dispelling the look of hope that flared briefly in Finty’s eyes.
But the question that I couldn’t ask aloud, because it was only half-formed in my own head, remained. Would that other presence, the one that linked us both so indelibly to Tenebris, come with him? Could the Jago darkness be untethered so that it could travel across continents? And, if so, what harm was it capable of once it left the confines of its Athal home?
I tasted dust like red-hot paprika hanging in the baking air and smelled the rustling, heated grass and the sweltering scent of the animals. This was South Africa’s heart. My Natal. My home. Tears stung my eyelids, and I blinked them rapidly away. Could I ever have seriously contemplated not coming back here again? It was proof of how powerfully Uther had affected me. I cast a sidelong glance at Nicca to see what effect the cruel, fiery beauty of the open veldt was having on him, but his eyes were on my face.
“Sonskyn Kraal,” I said proudly, leaning forward to get a better view as we wound our way down the narrow mountain road. The rocky amphitheatre encircling the kraal allowed the light to illuminate the scene no matter what time of day it was.
“What does it mean?” Nicca asked.
I turned my head to look at him and was shocked by a sudden, overwhelming desire to kiss him, there and then, in front of everyone. What was wrong with me? “Sonskyn means ‘sunshine,’” I said, reluctantly dragging my eyes away from his mouth. “Which is ironic because—”
“Tenebris means ‘darkness,’” Nicca finished the sentence for me. “Perhaps it is more symbolic than ironic that Rudi, the true heir of Athal, should come from a place that means sunshine. Lucent in tenebris. Perhaps the legacy of darkness may come to an end at last.”
“Don’t say those words!” I begged. Something about the Latin motto of the Jagos always resonated deep inside me, calling to something that I did not want to examine or acknowledge.
Set in a basin, surrounded by mountains, the main farmhouse at Sonskyn Kraal was an all-white building, long and low, wrapped all the way around by a wide veranda, or stoep. To the rear, the thatched, circular cottages that housed the far
m hands and servants formed a semi-circle around the main house, and in front was a wide lawn—which Ouma constantly battled to keep green—with flowerbeds bordering the dusty path.
The truck drew up in front of the house, where Ouma was standing on the front step, her hand shielding her eyes in a familiar gesture. Her white hair was drawn back into a severe bun, and her skin was tanned to leather from years of exposure to the harsh African sun. We were not a demonstrative family, so her face registered surprise when I bounded down from the truck before it had completely halted and hurled myself into her arms, almost knocking her off her feet.
“Annie-girl, this can mean only one thing,” she said, studying me with resignation. “What have you done now?” She turned to Rudi, who followed at a more dignified pace, and looked closely at him, before drawing him into a hug. “You look like kak, boy.”
“Baaie dankie, Ouma. Thank you.” He laughed. “You always know how to make me feel good about myself.”
We turned to where Nicca was helping Finty down from the vehicle. She looked like she was ready to attend an English garden party as she daintily tried to avoid getting any dust on her blue-and-white cotton dress. Ouma’s face took on an expression that was unique to her. It gave her the appearance of someone who was sucking on a lemon.
“Let me introduce you to my fiancée, Ouma.” Rudi hurried forward to grasp Finty’s hand and escort her up the steps.
“How delightful to finally meet you.” Finty’s upper-class English accent could cut glass. She held out a hand encased in a pristine white glove, and, as if in a trance, Ouma took it in her own strong, tanned, slightly farm-grimy grasp. “I do apologise for looking like such a horrid rag-bag at our first meeting.”
“You will grow to love her, I promise,” I whispered, taking Ouma’s arm as we went into the cool, comfortable lounge to drink iced tea. I did my best to sound convincing. “Rudi does, and that’s the most important thing.”
She cast me a look that spoke volumes about her feelings on the matter and turned instead to appraise Nicca, who was bringing up the rear. In contrast to her reaction to Finty, Ouma nodded her head approvingly. “And why are you here, Meneer Jago?” she asked with her customary bluntness.
“To lend a helping hand, Mrs van der Merwe.”
Ouma’s eyes narrowed to slits that could chip ice. “Don’t think you can fool me,” she barked. Although she still looked at Nicca, we all knew the words were meant for me. “But if, as I suspect, your job here is to keep my Annie-girl alive, then you are welcome at Sonskyn, meneer. And you must call me Ouma. The only person who ever called me Mrs van der Merwe was my husband, and then only in the bedroom.”
“The Zulu people call this region Ukhahlamba, which means ‘barrier of spears.’ To the voortrekkers they were the Drakens Berg or Dragon Mountains.” We looked out across the awe-inspiring basalt cliffs, the distant ones of which still wore their winter caps of snow. They towered over the bush, the lush yellow wood forests, the cascading waterfalls, and formed a massive barrier which separated the province of Natal from Basutoland. Even though this was my home, land of my birth, its haunting, wonderland beauty always had the power to take my breath away.
I pointed out the narrow road clinging to the side of the mountain like a serpent. There was only one way by which access to this part of the Drakensberg could be gained. It was the route we had taken to get here and, unless Uther wanted to take his chances scaling the treacherous soaring escarpments and plunging ravines, he would also have to enter the Sonskyn Valley that way.
We stood side-by-side on the stoep in the fading light of late afternoon, close enough for comfort, but not quite close enough to touch. Nicca scanned the terrain thoughtfully with a soldier’s eyes, looking for weaknesses.
“Uther is devious,” he said. “And he’s a seasoned soldier, trained in guerrilla tactics. The only thing we can be sure of is that he won’t do what we expect him to. Tell me again why he has to follow us here, Annie.”
“First, he has to make sure that Rudi cannot stake a claim to the title.”
“True. But he may assume that, since Rudi never knew he was a Jago—let alone Cad’s grandson and heir—that there is no documentation to support any claim he might make. Uther might be content to wait it out and see what happens.”
I turned my head to look at him. “No.” I shook my head firmly. “He will not allow for a glimmer of doubt. He killed Rory, and he has already tried to kill Rudi. He is not going to wait and see if a legal challenge comes his way and then spend years dealing with paperwork and lawyers. You know your brother, Nicca. He will get rid of Rudi just to be sure.”
“But there are too many people now who know the truth. You, me, Rudi himself, Finty, Tristan and now Ouma. Surely even Uther is not arrogant enough to think he can kill us all.” He laughed. “What am I saying? Of course he is, even if it means travelling all the way to Africa.”
“He will have to come to Africa anyway,” I said. “Because of me.”
“Ah, yes. Explain that part of it to me again.” Darkness fell quickly here and, although our faces were close, I couldn’t make out his expression.
“I don’t understand it myself,” I admitted. “There was something that drew us together instantly and powerfully. I don’t have a name for it, but the closest I can get is ‘recognition.’ We knew each other in a past life, or lives. And Tenebris allowed us to relive those feelings—it even intensified those feelings. It won’t let us go, Nicca. So he has no choice, you see. He has to come for me because, as I said to you the night I found out the truth, he can’t live without me.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you belong to Uther?”
“No, I’m trying to tell you that we both belong to…something else. Whatever it is, it needs us to be together at Tenebris.” I placed my hand over his where it lay on the veranda rail. “He will use everything he has to persuade me to go back with him—to him—and I will need every ounce of my strength, and your strength, too, if I am to resist.”
“Has it ever occurred to you, Annie, that he might actually just love you to the point of madness? That there is no black magic at work, that a man might just feel that way about you?”
Although I was only touching his hand, I could sense the tension in his whole body. I knew he was no longer talking about Uther.
“Nicca, I…” I was saved from saying anything further by the sound of the gong that Jabu rang to summon the family to dinner.
I lay in the room that had been mine since I was a child. The familiar scents of home—Ouma’s eye-wateringly strong chicory-coffee, dried cloves, oranges and the wood smoke of the fire from the servants’ quarters—stirred my memory, but did not soothe me. Nicca’s words bothered me. I wasn’t being fair to him. I was doing all the taking and offering nothing in return. Because I knew that Nicca was not the sort of man for whom a casual affair would suffice. He might joke about putting up with making love to me, but I knew how deeply his feelings were engaged. And there was a very real possibility that I might break his heart. So why, I wondered, as I slipped from my bed and made my way to his room, couldn’t I do the right thing and stay away from him?
I lifted the mosquito net and slid into Nicca’s bed. With a sigh of relief, I nestled into the strong arms that seemed to have been perfectly designed just to hold me.
“Are you sure, Annie? Here?” he murmured, his lips tender against my temple.
“Ja, Nicca. I need to be with you. Don’t send me away.”
“I couldn’t,” he said, his arms tightening around me. “That would be like sending away my oxygen and then trying to pretend that I don’t need to breathe.”
For a long time we lay on our sides, facing each other and exchanging slow, gentle kisses that seemed to last forever. Our tongues danced in lazy circles around each other. I could feel the rigid column of Nicca’s erection against the soft flesh of my stomach, but there was no urgency about our movements. Eventually, he lifted my knee and draped my leg over hi
s hip so that I could feel him pressing into me. I moved my hips so that he could slide all the way inside.
“Feels so good,” I murmured, biting my lip as the familiar, exquisite agony began to build.
“Even better from my perspective,” Nicca assured me, rubbing his thumb lightly across my nipple.
He held my buttocks so that we could rock slowly and tightly together until I began to cry out and dig my nails into his shoulders, demanding more. Which Nicca obligingly gave to me.
“Annie, you will have to stop screaming while we are here. People might notice.” There was a note of laughter in his voice as he held me close while I jerked wildly in the throes of orgasm.
“Stop being so bloody good at this, then,” I gasped.
I didn’t want to leave the comfort of his arms when dawn came, but Africa began to awaken with her familiar, haunting morning-song. “Why are you so good to me when I give you nothing in return?” I asked, rising and slipping my nightdress over my head.
“You know why,” he said, lying back with his hands behind his head, his gaze steady on mine. “Besides, I wouldn’t call tonight ‘nothing.’”
“I don’t deserve you, Nicca,” I said, allowing myself to indulge in an unaccustomed maudlin moment.
“No, you don’t,” he agreed. He held out his hand and I placed mine in it so that he could draw me back down to him again. Taking my face in his hands, he said, “Before I met you, Annie van der Merwe, I had a picture in my head of the nice, quiet girl I was going to fall in love with. We’d get married, have children, live a sane, ordinary life. Then you came along. Snapping and snarling your way into my life like a wildcat. Now my heart and my head go to war every time I look at you. You drive me to the edge of insanity, infuriate me and make me question my own reason. At least hourly. I’m never quite sure whether I want to kiss you or shake the life out of you. But I do know I wouldn’t exchange a single minute of this mad adventure you have dragged me into for a lifetime with that nameless paragon I pictured myself with.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Go back to your own room before Ouma wakes up. And Annie…” I had reached the door, but I turned and looked back. “You and I still have some serious talking to do, but we won’t mention the future again until this business with Uther is finally settled.”