HF - 03 - The Devil's Own (62 page)

'Strange words, for a Governor,' Kit said, and stood, hands on hips, gazing at the house, into which furniture was being carried by gangs of Negro slaves. 'And look, he means what he says.' He pointed to where more Negroes were dragging a cannon into place beneath the flagstaff from which floated the cross of St George. 'He declares war on his own people. I hope he does not set more substance by the Queen's support than really exists.'

Lilian made no reply. This afternoon, even for her, she had been unusually silent.

'But still,' Kit said, 'it is a splendid house. You must admit that, sweetheart.'

'Have I ever denied it?' She mounted the steps to the verandah, her hand loose in his. The workmen smiled at them and touched their hats. 'And what of your ship?'

'She will be launched in a week, by all reports. Then
...'

'Then will you once again be absent from my side, too often.'

'Sweetheart
...'

'A man must be active. He must
do.
While a woman must wait. Is that not what you were going to say?'

'Well
...
perhaps I would have chosen my words a trifle differently.'

'The substance would have been the same. But tell me this, Kit.' She freed her hand, and turned to gaze at the lawn, already sprouting grass, and the drive, and the labourers, and the engineer, and the red-coated sentry, patrolling the boundaries. 'Did not a great part of your love for Marguerite spring from admiration of her as a woman who stepped beyond the limits placed on our sex by history and convention?'

'Well
...
she is unusual. I will grant you that.'

'She is breathtaking,' Lilian said. 'In the sweep of her personality. Because she refuses merely to confess, I am a woman, and therefore weak, and thereby hindered. She does what a man would do, whenever
it
becomes necessary or profitable.'

'There is no denying that,'
Kit
admitted. 'I suppose in many ways she is unique.'

'No human being is unique,' Lilian said quietly. 'They may only think in unique ways. But we all possess the same attributes, and most of us possess very similar feelings. Were you a general, what would you count the stratagem most likely to give you success in battle?'

'Why
...
surprise, I would suppose.'

'And what has Marguerite done all her life, but surprise her friends and her enemies, her creditors and her debtors, by the force and unexpectedness of her action, of her decisions. And thereby she has achieved all her position and her power,
and th
e admiration with which both men and women regard her.'

'I had not really expected to discover you in the role of Marguerite's defender,' Kit remarked.

'I but seek to point out the strengths on which she trades. Because you see, Kit, if I am ever to hold my head up high again, as Lilian Christianssen, and not merely as Christopher Hilton's mistress, then I must match her on her own ground.'

'But that is
...'

'Impossible? You diink too little of me, Kit. Not that you can be blamed for that. I have ever thought far too little of myself. But this last year I have thought a great deal, as I have had little else to do but think. I have tried to understand the point of view of my enemy, for she is my enemy and there is no point in arguing against that. She has reduced me to a contemptible nothing, a fool of a woman. I must either die, for I cannot live in that guise, or I must force her to admit that I am as good a woman as herself. It so happens that I have at last hit upon a way which provides me very simply with one or other of those alternatives.'

'Sweetheart
...'
Kit began uneasily.

'Hear me out, please,' Lilian said, continuing to speak in the same quiet and composed tone. 'I yesterday wrote her a letter, reminding her of my grievance against her, and challenging her to meet me, at a place of her choosing, and with weapons of her choosing, and at a time of her choosing, that we might settle our quarrel once and for all.'

Kit
gaped at her. 'You challenged her to a duel? But that is preposterous.'

'On the contrary.' Lilian unfolded a slip of paper she had hitherto kept in her hand. 'Here is her reply. "Mrs Christopher Hilton will be happy to meet Miss Lilian Christianssen, on the beach outside St John's, at dawn tomorrow morning, for the mutual settlement of their quarrel
. The weapons she has chosen are
pistols.'

13

The Revolution

'You cannot mean to go through with this madness?'
Kit
protested.

Lilian's frown had an almost Marguerit
e-like quality of im
periousness. 'Why should you call it madness?'

'Why, because
...
because
...
women do not fight with weapons.'

'It is not customary for them to do so, certainly,' she agreed. 'But I fail to see why they
should
not. In all the essentials required for the usage of arms we are not different to men.'

'Except in the mind,' he said. 'There you have it. Women have not the cast of mind to wish to harm or kill.'

'Then will we do each other no harm,' she pointed out, with maddening logic. 'But I am sure your remark can hardly apply to your wife. I would have said, there is a woman with sufficient presence of mind to harm, and to kill, if she chooses.'

'By God,' he said. 'You are right.' He seized her hands. 'Not only will Marguerite have the mind to maim you, at the very least, but she has the skill. She has challenged you to fight with pistols. Have you ever fired a pistol in your life?'

Lilian flushed. 'It is not my father's custom to have weapons in the house. But it is a simple matter, is
it
not?'

'God give me patience,' Kit cried. 'Oh, indeed,
it
is a simple matter. All things in life are simple enough, to those who understand them. Did you know that Marguerite practises with a pistol at least once a week, and has done so since childhood? She has always conceived it possible that the slaves might rise against their tormentors. She shoots with a deadly and heartless accuracy. Why, this will be no duel, Lilian. It will be, it must be, nothing less than murder.'

'Have you no faith in justice?'

'Ah,' he said. 'Trial by battle. Does the God of the Quakers admit to that?'

She glanced at him; her cheeks continued to glow, but she was no longer embarrassed. 'Is it not time we should be returning?'

He flicked the whip and the trap moved down the hill. 'The house is finished. I have no doubt that Dan will wish to move in as soon as possible.'

'My plans will scarcely interfere with his, Kit.'

'But you will move in with me, will you not?'

She gazed ahead of them at the road. 'Oh, indeed I shall, Kit. I am Kit Hilton's woman. Come next week, I shall be Kit Hilton's only woman, or I shall be dead. It seems to me to be a simple solution to everyone's problem. For be sure that with me gone, Marguerite would welcome you back. And I imagine that even you would welcome that situation. But I will at least have died with the knowledge that I am as good a woman as she.' Once again the quick glance. 'Or should I not even consider the possibility of death, before the duel? You could at least give me that much benefit of your experience.'

'My experience?' he cried. 'For God's sake, Lilian, what experience do I have? Would you believe that I have never fought a duel in my life?'

'You?' Her surprise was genuine.

'You have been listening to too many of your father's strictures. I have come to the point, often enough, but never have I actually had a challenge accepted.'

'Because of your known prowess. That must be a most comforting feeling. Yet you have killed often enough. So what do you feel immediately before battle? Do you doubt your own survival?'

'No,' he said. 'I have never doubted my own survival.' They entered the sleeping town, clattered gently down the street. Curtains moved at the windows, as usual. Captain Hilton and his woman. How they would stir when they heard of this.

'Well, then,' Lilian said. 'I must not consider my own death, either.' She rested her hand on his as the trap came to a halt. 'I am looking forward to moving in with you, Kit. But I could not do so under the present circumstances. When I bring my clothes up that hill I must be able to look any man, and more important, any woman, straight in the eye. I would hope that you could understand that.'

'I understand the sentiment,'
Kit
said.

'But you still feel it is unnatural. Well, it
is
unnatural, of course. But then, is not my entire position unnatural?' She smiled at him. 'I have not yet asked you to second me. Is that not the proper thing to do?'

'Lilian
...'

'Will you second me, Kit? Or must I go elsewhere?'

How steady her gaze. How little he knew, of what he had commenced when he had offered this girl his love. For how selfish is the human mind, how one-sided the human gaze. What
had
he seen, when first he had looked on Lilian Christianssen? A certain beauty, a certain charm, a certain quiet contentment with life? Or merely a woman eager to respond? He had seen no character, no depths of determination, no deep-seated knowledge of herself. Because had he seen those qualities, admirable in a man with whom one will fight a war, but daunting in a woman with whom one would share a bed, he would doubtless have turned and run.

And proved himself a fool. For is not all life a war? Against age, and poverty, and disease
...
and other people who are also seeking their share? And would a woman, lacking those qualities, be worth having?

'I will second you, Lilian,' he said.

'Thank you. Presumably Marguerite will supply the pistols. Do you think I should practise?' She smiled at his bewilderment.

'I think not,' she said. 'An unsuccessful rehearsal might dispel what confidence I possess. I will please Papa by spending the evening in prayer.'

'Your father knows of this madness?'

She shook her head. 'No doubt he will learn of it, in due course. But he at the least will not try to stop me. He considers me nothing more than a daughter of the devil in any event, and searches his own past for the unthinking sin which could have produced me from his loins. But I would prefer not to distress him more than necessary. Do you remain at Mr Parke's house, and I will come to you at dawn.'

Kit hesitated. It cannot be, he thought. I cannot let this happen. But I cannot stop
her.
Even supposing I could, that would be to destroy her all over again. For this truly is the only solution she could ever have come to.

'Aye,' he said. 'I will wait for you, at dawn.'

He flicked the whip and the trap rolled away. He cantered beneath the archway and into the yard of the rented Government House, threw his reins to the waiting slave, and ran up the inner staircase. Colonel Parke was in the downstairs gallery with Mr Wolff.

'Kit,' the Governor cried. 'Great news. Wolff tells me everything is in place.'

'Why, so it is,' Kit agreed. 'I have just come from there.'

'Then we shall move up the hill on Monday. Thank you, Wolff. That is splendid news.'

I did the best I could, Your Excellency.' The engineer bowed to Kit and hurried for the door.

'And indeed he has done well.' Parke leaned over the plans. "And then, then we shall see what we shall see, Kit. I have been soft with these rapscallions. I have been too aware that while living here in the centre of their schemes I have been open to ambuscade and annoyance. But when I sit in that citadel, looking down on them, with the fort commanding the harbour at the other extreme, by God, sir, then will I call some of them to account. You'll know they have written letters to London, demanding my recall?'

'I had not heard,' Kit said. 'But how
...?'

Parke laid his finger alongside his nose. 'The captain of every ship that trades here is in my pay. Why, should they not humour their governor and principal employer? I took care of that aspect of the situation before I ever left England. So they take care that such of the letters as may be of importance to me are made available.'

'You mean you have confiscated them?'