HF - 03 - The Devil's Own (33 page)

Kit stepped through the doorway, and stopped, and took a long breath. It had been Marguerite's idea that he should arrive late. 'For I know you too well,' she had said. 'Left to yourself you will sneak into the Assembly like a thief in the night. You must arrive as the master of Green Grove.'

He was simply enough dressed, in a plain blue broadcloth coat over buckskin trousers, and he wore no wi
g. He carried his black tricorne
under his left arm, and was unarmed, apparently. But the right-hand pocket of his coat sagged beneath the weight of a loaded pistol. He was well enough aware that he had enemies, merely by being what he was, and he doubted that the next time someone elected to murder him Agrippa would be standing by.

And he had accomplished her desire. The ripple of whispering ran across the benches in front of him, uncomfortable looking things, but it was no part of the Assembly's plans to have its members falling asleep on a hot afternoon. Now the heads turned and the muttering commenced, while the speaker, John Trumbull of Plantation Paradise, peered at the newcomer. Nor was the disturbance confined to the chamber; in the gallery which looked down on it, and where the ladies were seated, together with such of the town merchants who conceived themselves interested in what was likely to happen to their island, there was a ripple of comment. There Marguerite had just taken her seat, and was smiling at him.

"Welcome, Captain Hilton,' Mr Trumbull said. 'It is too long since we have had the pleasure of the company of the master of Green Grove. Pray take a seat.'

'Here. Kit, here,' Edward Chester said, and Kit sat on the bench beside him.

'You may continue, Mr Harding,' Trumbull said.

The planter who had been speaking bowed towards the chair, and turned to face his fellows, and more particularly Kit. 'May I also," he said, grasping the lapels of his coat, 'welcome the master of Green Grove to our midst. And indeed, sir, he could not have
come at a more appropriate
time. For be sure that Green Grove's future welfare is at much at stake as are any of ours, in this crisis. I repeat gentlemen, this war is no affair of ours. This ... this Dutchman came to the throne by virtue of his being the husband of Queen Mary, God bless her soul. Thus the sanctity of the English crown, of the succession, of die divine right that governs the succession, was preserved. No doubt we feared then, and rightly, the conseque
nces of this over-close identific
ation
of England with Europe. Traditionally have we stood apart from the endless quarrels which have destroyed all that is of value to that tortured continent. None of the devastation of the Thirty Years' War ever afflicted England's green and pleasant land. And no doubt the accession of Dutch William was necessary, to prevent the equal horrors of a religious conflict at home, which might in course of time have spread its destruction to these beautiful islands. But the Queen has now been dead these several years. That man has no legal or historical justification for remaining on the throne, for involving us further in his schemes.'

'Was he not elected?' someone asked.

'Bah,' Harding said. 'Kings are not elected, sir. We are not members of some savage
tribe of antiquity. And even th
ey preserved a proper sequence of events. How may a man be king, if the blood of kings does not run through his veins? If he has not been bred to it?'

'Yet is William surely a ruling prince in his own right,' Kit suggested. 'And indeed, is he not a member of the English royal house in his own right?'

Harding frowned at him. 'I was not aware, sir, that a knowledge of English domestic history was included in your many and dazzling accomplishments.'

'Yet is my friend entirely correct,' Chester said. 'His Majesty's mother was the Princess Mary, daughter of King Charles the First. The Queen, God bless her memory, was his own first cousin.'

'That may be so,' Harding declared. 'But I have not heard it expressed as a principle of succession that the crown should pass to cousins. No, no. King James had proved himself an unlucky monarch, and England must have a monarch, so Dutch William was installed, as the consort of Queen Mary ...'

'Not so, sir,' interrupted another voice. 'They were jointly installed, as equal authority on the throne.'

'Expedience, sir,' Harding shouted. 'Expedience. Then it was necessary, for the good of the realm. Now it is no longer necessary. But now we are fatally embroiled in a war with France.'

'Fatally, sir?' Chester inquired.

'Name me a Dutch victory, sir, in the last five years,' Harding demanded. 'This William prides himself upon extricating his armies, summer after summer, from the worst consequences of defeat. Yet are the defeats continual. But that, sir, is not the question we debate here today. England, Europe, are three thousand miles away. We are here, surrounded by perils enough, God knows. There is at this moment a French fleet rampaging through the Caribbean Sea. And it is not even a fleet of war. It is a fleet of buccaneers, commanded by the dreadful DuCasse. It will visit upon us the frightful calamities which Morgan was wont to inflict upon the Spaniards. We have all heard what happened in Jamaica. The graves were torn open and the very bodies of the dead violated. Common decency forbids me relating what happened to the living. Jamaica is not so very far from us here, and be sure, that when a French fleet appears off our shores, there will be no succour to be expected from St Kitts, divided as it is between the two nations. Why, I have heard that they already face each other along a line of entrenchments, but awaiting the first shot.'

'They have done that often enough,' a voice said.

'Aye, to their ruination,' Harding declared. 'But, sirs, the point I put to you now is this. We are, so we are told, part of England. We must pay taxes for the support of this abominable war, this abominable foreign government. We must transport our goods in English bottoms and none other. But, gentlemen, what do we receive in return?'

'Admiral Benbow,' said a voice.

'Benbow?' Harding demanded contemptuously. 'There is indeed the measure of King William's regard for us. We appeal for a fleet and an admiral, and he sends us a few worm-eaten second-raters commanded by a man who has risen from the lower deck. A common seaman, by God, intended to protect cane-planters. Why, tell me this? Where was Benbow when
DuCasse landed in Jamaica?'

'Out looking for the French,' someone said.

'Aye,' Harding said. 'Port Royal is the home of the English fleet, yet when the French land, they are away, looking for the French. There is an example of Benbow's genius. Think not of him as your protection, gentlemen.'

'There is the revenue frigate in St Kitts,' a voice said, and brought general laughter.

'Aye, the revenue frigate,' Harding said. 'Did not a respected member of our own ass
embly show that tub the strength
in his teeth, the speed of his heels, when occasion demanded?'

There was a storm of applause, and Chester slapped Kit on the back. He frowned, and stared at the Speaker in confusion. He had not expected to be congratulated on his illegal activities in this body.

'Indeed that is so,' Mr Trumbull said. 'And it occurs to me, gentlemen, that this would be a good opportunity for Captain Hilton to give us the benefit of his experience. I have heard it said that you know DuCasse, Captain. There you are a measure more knowledgeable than us all.'

Kit stood up. 'Indeed, gentlemen,' he said. 'I have known Jean DuCasse since boyhood. We were
matelots,
in Hispaniola. We sailed with Morgan. Our paths only separated after the disbandment of that fleet. Jean elected to stay with the sea, I elected to take the path of planting and peace.'

'Well said, indeed. Captain,' Chester said. 'But what of this man you know so well? Is he the brilliant admiral, the devil incarnate, we are led to believe?'

'We were
matelots,'
Kit repeated. 'Without Jean DuCasse at my side, gentlemen, I would not have survived to be here today. He is a man of many parts, sirs. Give him a pistol and he will have your eye at twenty paces. Give him a cutlass and he will fight until you drop from weariness. Give him a ship, and yes, sirs, he will navigate her to safety. And give him a task, as he has now been given by his country, and gentlemen, he will carry it to a successful conclusion or die in the attempt. He is a born leader of men. That I can assure you without hesitation. But a devil incarnate? By no means. He is more of a gentleman than I would claim to be.'

'Yet are the atrocities in Jamaica attested by eye witnesses,' Harding insisted.

'No doubt the French were there assisted by their allies, the Caribs,' someone said.

'Perhaps Captain Hilton can tell us of these also,' Mr Trumbull remarked.

'To my knowledge, sir,' Kit said. 'I have never yet set eyes on a Carib.'

'Yet you have a Carib relative, at least by marriage,' a voice muttered.

Instantly there was uproar, with Trumbull banging on the desk with his gavel, and gentlemen shouting at each other from opposite sides of the room, and being assisted in their cacophony by their wives from the gallery.

'Order,' bellowed Mr Trumbull. 'Order. And gentlemen, I must ask you to be so good as to leave our Deputy Governor and his family from these debates. A man is not responsible for the excesses of his parents, unless he chooses to continue such excesses. Colonel Warner has shown us where his heart and his strength lies, time and again. It is here, in Antigua. He loathes and abhors the name of Indian Warner as much as any man present. I'd lay my life on that. Now I thank Captain Hilton for his exposition upon the talents and restraints of Monsieur DuCasse. I would but remind the gallant captain that a man can be considered only as good as the company he keeps, and in that regard we must anticipate in Monsieur DuCasse not only an enemy, but an enemy of a peculiarly vicious and bloodthirsty stamp. It behoves us, as responsible for the well-being and prosperity of our colony, to keep that thought ever-present in our minds, and to seek our best solution to the problem it presents. But emotions are running too high today for a continuance of this debate. The House is adjourned until tomorrow week.'

The planters rose as he left the chair and joined them on the floor, and now the doors were thrown open, and the ladies were permitted to descend.

'That was a splendid opening to your career in the Assembly, Kit,' Chester declared. 'Was he not splendid, Mary?'

Mary Chester put up her cheek for Kit to kiss. 'Indeed you were, Kit. You looked so handsome, standing there. Why, I was more than ever jealous of Marguerite.'

Marguerite smiled at her, be
nevolently. 'Sometimes I am
even jealous of myself, my sweet child.' She held Kit's arm. 'But you were the most handsome and the most authoritative man there, Kit. While they have spent their lives in talk, you have spent your life in action. You are a natural leader, just as you claimed that French boy to be. And I take odds with you on that point. I met them both together, you know, Edward. And even then Kit was the leader. Monsieur DuCasse but trailed behind to pick up the pieces. I will not pretend that at the time I appreciated my husband at his true worth, but I was only a girl.' She laughed, and squeezed his arm. Yet her eyes were uncommonly serious. 'Would you not say that he is a natural leader, Edward?'

Chester frowned at her, and then glanced at Kit, and smiled. 'Why, you may well be right, my sweet. For depend upon it, when we need a leader, we shall truly need a leader.'

'My own thoughts entirely,' Marguerite agreed. 'Now we must hurry off to Goodwood for lunch. Papa will be anxious to hear how Kit got on.' She led him from the chamber and down the steps, to where George Frederick waited with the carriage, on the edge of a crowd of onlookers. 'Why so serious, after such a triumph, my darling?'

Kit sat beside her. 'I had forgot the history which surrounds your family.'

'And does the presence of a skeleton in my closet now disturb you?'

'Not in the least. I but wish to know where I must stand, if I am to be at your shoulder.'

Marguerite's eyes glinted. 'Just hate the very name of Indian Warner, Kit.'

'Have you ever met him?'

'I saw him once, as a child. And I knew him then for an evil thing. He was my grandfather's bastard, Kit. There is an apt description. And after old Sir Thomas died, Papa tried to make the boy into a human being, and failed. With his Indian mother he fled back to the forest of Dominica, where they belonged. Yet were they not allowed to disappear into eternity. The French sought them out, and ever anxious to make capital of dissensions amongst the English, appointed him Governor of Dominica, as if Dominica was theirs to govern. There you have the sorry tale. Be sure that should
he ever re-enter our lives Papa will hang him higher than Haman, and with much less ado.'