The Angel Court Affair (Thomas Pitt 30) (9 page)

Hall straightened himself up. ‘I’m sorry. This must seem absurd to you.’ His voice was stronger, his composure regained. ‘Her return to England has come at an unfortunate period for me. I have responsibilities to which I need to give uninterrupted time: serious matters to which I cannot afford to give less than my full attention. I’m sorry if I seem heartless, but there are only so many times we can drop all our own affairs to rescue someone who is bent on her own destruction and is willing to take you with her.’ His voice wavered, strained almost to the point where it could barely escape the tightness of his throat.

‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you, Mr Hall,’ Pitt apologised, watching him with a degree of pity. ‘I was hoping she might be here, and we could all discuss the subject. And since you are her only relative in England we had to inform you of her disappearance.’

Hall sighed. ‘I understand. I dare say by tomorrow she will have appeared again with some absurd story of hardship, and be too busy talking to the newspapers about it to be aware that she has distressed her poor followers, and wasted your time.’

‘I hope so.’ As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Pitt knew that he did not entirely mean them. He hated the thought that the woman he had seen only three days ago, so passionate in her belief, was actually self-serving and manipulative. It was a disillusion that cut with pain. Was that anything to do with her, or was it old memories stirred up in him of a safety of too brief a time in his youth, a love he had never had chance to return? Things about love and gratitude he had not said?

Hall pursed his lips. ‘Do you hope so? I think you speak without realising the damage she can do, and undoubtedly will, if she returns and continues in her insane crusade.’ Yet again he coughed and cleared his throat. ‘Her religious views are not only theologically blasphemous, Mr Pitt, they are socially dangerous. That is what you should be turning your attention towards.’

Pitt regarded him steadily, trying to judge whether he was acting or not, and if he knew exactly what had happened to Sofia, or truly spoke in regret. Certainly he was labouring under the stress of some extreme emotion. Pitt could see its depth, but there was no way to tell its nature.

‘She sees what she wants to, and ignores the rest,’ Hall went on, the bitterness still in his voice. ‘There is much in her past she prefers not to recall, as if it never happened. But believe me, Mr Pitt, she did not leave England with honour, nor did she originally act with any decency in Spain. I don’t know how the people of Toledo could forget, but perhaps their values are different from ours.’ He stopped just short of implying that Spaniards were morally weak.

Pitt hesitated. He did not wish to look too interested, and make Hall realise how far he had trespassed on the privacy he had originally claimed.

‘You doubt me!’ Hall said with a flare of anger. ‘And it would be a betrayal for me to tell you more. Sofia may do as she wishes, but I shall not allow her to claim moral superiority by sinking to the level of speaking ill of her – and those dark griefs that are part of our family’s history. Sufficient for me to say that she may have many enemies among those she has . . . harmed . . . on her way to her present absurd position.’

The thought flashed in Pitt’s mind that Hall was deliberately taunting him, but he had no doubt at all that the anger and the pain in Hall’s face were perfectly real, whatever their cause. He chose his words very carefully, watching Hall’s eyes for his reaction to them.

‘Are you saying, as discreetly as you can, that she has injured people in Spain who may have felt sufficiently aggrieved to follow her here to England in order to take revenge?’

Hall swallowed, his throat jerking as if the movement were painful.

‘I am,’ he replied. ‘And there is always the possibility that at least one of her followers has turbulent and mixed emotions about her. Disillusion is a kind of betrayal, Mr Pitt.’

Hall smiled sadly. ‘Then you may have many places to look for whoever might have wished Sofia harm. You might begin with those closest to her, and work from there. You may need to look at her husband.’

‘Oh?’ Pitt said with interest. ‘Do you think there is ill feeling between them sufficient to cause some sort of abduction or attack?’

‘I don’t know, Commander. But to the best of my knowledge she has not been in England for many years. This is very soon after her arrival to have created such enmity.’

‘Have you been to Spain, Mr Hall?’

‘To Madrid once, a long time ago, never to Toledo. I think I have already told you, sir, I have had no contact with Sofia since she went to Spain a decade or so ago. I wish her well, of course, but I have no interest in her affairs. I imagine her enemies are in Spain, or at least from Spain, as a matter of common sense, not any specific knowledge.’

‘And she gave you no idea as to why she wished so urgently to see you?’

‘None whatsoever,’ Hall agreed, holding out his hand towards Pitt. ‘I am sorry my assistance is so meagre and in essence bitter as well. I would rather have been able to tell you she is a genuine saint, a holy woman whom you should revere. But it would be a lie, and one unworthy of the seriousness of the situation, in the unlikely event that this is any more than another part of her performance. And she is an actress of no mean ability because she has convinced herself of a different reality.’ There was a flash of intense bitterness in his face, then the moment after it had vanished. ‘I regret I cannot spare more time to be hospitable, but I have business that cannot wait longer. Good day to you, sir, I wish you success.’

Pitt took a hansom cab back to Angel Court, hoping that Sofia might have returned, or at least sent some message with an explanation of her absence. Was it ridiculous to think she might prove Hall’s judgement of her wrong? She had set herself up as a missionary, in some ways a light along the path, and so denied herself the right to be so blatantly manipulative, or so callous of others who trusted her.

But when he walked in through the gateway of Angel Court he knew. Henrietta Navarro stood on the cobbles with a bunch of herbs in her hand. She stared at Pitt with a momentary flash of hope, then her eyes filled with tears and she turned away and hurried inside.

Pitt went across the yard and in through the door without looking back.

When Pitt got home, later than he had expected, he was happy not to think of Sofia Delacruz. He was tired of wondering where she was, and if she was there of her own will. However, he had barely finished his dinner in the pleasant warmth around the kitchen table when he realised that Jemima was watching him, waiting. He had been hoping to talk of something comfortable and without controversy, but he saw the possibility disappearing.

‘What do you think has happened to her, Papa?’ Jemima asked the moment he caught her eye.

He knew that Charlotte would have told her not to ask him until after dinner. She had been watching every mouthful, barely tasting her own food.

‘I don’t know,’ he said honestly. He was careful how he answered his children, trying to protect them from the harsher side of his job, but he never lied. Sometimes that was difficult, but if he did, he knew that someday it would come back to haunt them all, and trust would be broken.

‘People are saying that she went on purpose,’ Jemima continued. ‘That she wasn’t kidnapped at all, she’s just pretending so she can make people scared, and think she’s in danger when she’s perfectly all right. They’re saying it’s a trick to make her look more important. That’s not true, is it?’

He looked at her. She was so like Charlotte that he could imagine Charlotte as a girl, as if the years had blurred and carried him back to a time before he had known her. Jemima had the same soft curve to her cheeks and mouth, the same steady eyes, yet there was something of himself in her too, the way her hair grew from her brow, like his, and like his mother’s. He had only this moment realised it.

‘I don’t know,’ he said carefully. ‘When I met her I thought she believed what she was saying and that it mattered enough never to soil it by trickery. But I’ve been mistaken in people. We all have.’

‘Then you’re saying she could have been lying all the time!’ Jemima challenged, her voice thick with emotion.

Daniel winced. He was three years younger, and very tired of girls altogether, and emotional storms especially. His were yet to come. He was brave, intelligent, very practical. He was interested in the rising possibility of more widespread war in Africa than the present fighting in the Sudan, especially against the Boers in South Africa. The military tactics, the heroism and the sacrifice involved intrigued him. He did not care in the slightest about the philosophy of saints, or their behaviour.

Charlotte looked from one to the other of them, anxiety in her eyes, but she did not intervene.

‘I don’t think she is,’ Pitt replied. ‘But Barton Hall, who is her only relative in England, said that she has misled people in the past and that there is a great deal that we don’t know about her. He cannot tell me exactly what it is, because he feels it would be dishonourable, a betrayal of family secrets.’

‘That’s despicable!’ Jemima said hotly. ‘He will tell you there’s something awful, but he won’t say what it is, so you can’t judge it for yourself! He could be lying. If he won’t tell you then he shouldn’t mention it at all! That’s like being a sneak!’

Daniel looked up, his expression reflecting his agreement. To a boy his age sneaking was the worst sin imaginable, after cowardice. He stared at Pitt, then at his sister. ‘Then you shouldn’t listen to him,’ he said without hesitation. ‘It all sounds very childish.’

A look of both surprise and amusement lit Charlotte’s face. She quashed it immediately. She drew in her breath to speak, then changed her mind.

Charlotte had warned Pitt that Jemima was both excited and afraid of the great changes in her life that were coming in the next couple of years. She had thought of adulthood as freedom, and was just realising that it had its own kind of restrictions. Marriage meant a gain, but also its own sort of loss, and she was not at all sure she was ready for that yet. Romance could be wonderful or heart-breaking, and sometimes both.

The idea of promising to love and obey anyone else, for the rest of her life, terrified her. Perhaps that was why the courage and the independence of Sofia Delacruz appealed to her so much. She needed to believe that such promises would not cost her her life.

‘He was warning me that she might have more enemies than merely those who disagreed with her religious views,’ Pitt told them. ‘He was answering my questions.’

Jemima blinked rapidly. ‘Do you believe him?’

‘I believe he feels very strongly about it.’ Pitt wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he was deeply afraid that Sofia Delacruz was going to hurt a lot of people.

‘Why?’ Jemima asked. ‘Why does he hate her?’

‘I think he’s afraid of her,’ he replied.

‘That doesn’t make sense.’ Contempt rang in her voice. ‘She isn’t hurting anyone, especially him.’

Should he be honest, or was it burdening her with thoughts she would not understand, and end up sounding like an evasion anyway? He desperately wanted to forget Sofia Delacruz and enjoy the evening. It would be over far too soon as it was.

He looked across at Charlotte, and knew that she was not going to say anything. She wanted answers as well, although she would not have asked him, especially not this late when she understood his need to let go of it from his mind.

‘Papa?’ Jemima persisted. ‘Why would he be afraid of her? Do you think she’s dangerous?’

He knew he could hurt her so easily. The truth would wound her now; a lie would in the future. He must choose exactly the right words.

‘He’s afraid that people will believe her ideas, and then be horribly disappointed when she doesn’t live up to what she has said,’ he answered.

‘She didn’t say she was perfect!’ Jemima argued. ‘She just said it wasn’t all a big mistake because God didn’t know we’d disobey and get cast out of Eden. Which would make Him pretty stupid. She said it was meant to be, and that we can learn from it and get better . . . for ever.’

Daniel rolled his eyes, but very wisely said nothing.

Pitt was surprised that Jemima had been listening closely enough to be able to put it so succinctly. He was proud of her, and afraid for her in the same moment. He found he did not have an argument against it.

‘Don’t you believe that?’ Jemima demanded.

‘I want to believe it,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s hard to be different from all the people around you. It doesn’t come without a price, and I don’t want you to be hurt. I look at Sofia Delacruz, and I see the turmoil around her, because she is challenging the order of things and suggesting something new. People like what is familiar. We get upset when people ask us to change. It’s hard work. It feels dangerous, and we are afraid we will lose those we love.’

She blinked. ‘Is there a God? I’m trying to think back, but I can’t remember you ever saying so.’ The hope was shining in her eyes, and she would believe what he said.

Charlotte moved her hand as if she would touch him, and then withdrew it again.

He did not know the answer, but that was an evasion, and they would all see it as exactly that.

‘My mother died before you were born,’ he said quietly. ‘But she believed. I always knew that. I would like to believe as deeply as she did, but I haven’t got there yet. I’m afraid I haven’t tried very hard. But I do know certain things are right, and some are wrong, and I don’t doubt that. Although there’s an awful lot in the middle.’

This time it was Daniel who interrupted. ‘What’s always right?’

‘Kindness,’ Pitt answered with certainty. ‘Keeping your promises. Not giving up just because it gets hard. Owning up to your mistakes, and not blaming other people even if you would get away with it.’

Jemima took a deep breath. ‘You will find her, won’t you, Papa? I mean before anyone does something terrible to her?’ She wanted him to so intensely he could feel it like a pressure in the air. Dare he promise her he would succeed?