The Winding Stair (47 page)

‘They won't need to, love. Roberto's right; your uncle is not the man to suffer for a cause. He'll talk without persuasion. If only they catch him, and de Mascarenhas. That's what worries me. I had hoped Roberto would have persuaded the Prince Regent to give the orders for their arrest long before we got there. As it is, they have had too much time … If de Mascarenhas has found we have disappeared, he must know the game is up. Juana, you will be desperately careful, won't you? For my sake.'

‘I wish you could take me with you.'

‘So do I. But we both know I can't.'

‘Yes. But suppose Lord Strangford refuses to make a last appeal to the Prince Regent?'

‘I don't think he will. But if he does, I shall go to Sir Sidney Smith, who is in command of the British squadron. By all reports, there is no love lost between him and Strangford. He might be glad to step in where Strangford won't. And, if all else fails, I'll come back for you, Juana. Never think I won't.'

She smiled in the darkness. ‘I know you will, Gair. It's – comfortable. But what will we do?'

‘Go to the Brazils, if necessary, but I hope it won't be. You realise Roberto and Teresa will have to?'

‘I hadn't thought! But I suppose they will. It wouldn't be safe for him to stay?'

‘No. Even if we round up the leaders, there are bound to be enough of the Sons of the Star left to take vengeance on a proved traitor.'

‘And you're one, in their eyes. Gair, you must be careful too. I shan't have a quiet moment till I see you again.'

‘Careful! I'll be relieved if I don't find myself cowardly. I've
too much to live for, all of a sudden. Believe me, I'll take no unnecessary risks.'

‘Yes, love, but what about the necessary ones?'

He laughed, and quoted:

‘ “
I could not love thee, dear, so much
Loved I not honour more
.”

We
both know, my heart, that we started this, and must see it through to the end. You do realise, don't you, that they killed your grandmother? I feel we owe it to her, if not to ourselves, to fight it out to a finish against them.'

Here was another chance to tell him about old Mrs. Brett's double game. Now, strangely, it was for her grandmother's sake that she held her tongue. Gair would never understand how a lonely old lady might have been blandished and deluded by Vasco's charm. She herself understood only too well. If she had not met Gair first, she would have been clay in Vasco's ruthless hands. Mrs. Brett's secret, she promised herself, would be the only one she ever kept from Gair. ‘Just think,' she said now, ‘but for Vasco, we might be married, you and I. Operatically, perhaps, but married just the same.'

‘I wish we were.'

‘I don't. I intend to stand on my rights now and be courted in good earnest. Besides, do you think it would have stood up, that operatic wedding?'

‘De Mascarenhas obviously thought so or he'd not have forbidden the banns.'

‘Yes. Poor Father Ignatius. I suppose he had no idea that what he was doing ran counter to his leader's wishes.'

‘No, why should he? The secret of “Sebastian” was known to the inner circle alone. Ignatius was merely one of the rank and file.'

‘Like you? It'll be a long day, I warn you, before I forgive you for joining without telling me. And when I think how laboriously I reported your own speeches to you! I could shake you, Gair.'

‘Do,' he said.

Carlota Joaquina welcomed them with enthusiasm. Since her intrigues with the Spanish government had been exposed, she had been living in compulsory seclusion at her
quinta
of Ramalhao, with only rumour to feed on. She agreed at once to add Juana to her train, and plied Gair with questions, which he answered as best he could before making his quick, apologetic farewells.

It all happened so fast … so publicly. One minute he was there, kissing the Princess's hand, and Juana's, the next he was gone. ‘A brave man that,' said Carlota Joaquina.

‘Yes.' Juana swallowed tears. If the Portuguese caught him, it meant prison. If the Sons of the Star did, death.

‘
Meu Deus
, but I'm glad to see you,' the Princess went on. ‘Sing for me, child, but first tell me, do you not wish that our wedding had succeeded, that day last summer?'

The life of a lady-in-waiting on the Princess was one of suffocating boredom, exacerbated by Juana's gnawing anxiety for Gair. He had warned her that there would be no way he could let her know if he got safe out to the British squadron. ‘Don't worry,' he had said. Absurd advice. She did nothing else. And as the long newsless days dragged by, she began to be horribly afraid that he had miscalculated, that Dom John did not intend to take his detested wife with him to the Brazils. But that surely, was impossible? Carlota Joaquina had the royal children with her. Whatever he might decide about his wife, Dom John would never leave his children behind.

Worst of all was the lack of news. Carlota Joaquina lived in a kind of royal Coventry. Nobody came near her, nobody, wrote to her; she was dependent for information on the alarming rumours picked up by her servants. Everyone knew by now that Junot's French army had crossed the border and was advancing with breathtaking speed on Lisbon. Everyone knew, too, that the foreign minister, Senhor Araujo, had sent an envoy to Junot and that the messenger had returned all too soon, having found the French army already on the river Zezere. He and Junot had conferred under a tree in the pouring rain, but nothing had come of it.

The rain was the last straw. When the order finally came for Carlota Joaquina to pack up and take her children and household to the Ajuda Palace in Belem it was coming down in torrents. The roads were all awash, and rain blowing in at every cranny of the huge old-fashioned royal carriages added to the miseries of the crowded journey. But Juana was relieved to be at Belem, with the Portuguese fleet a hive of activity further up the Tagus, and the blockading British downstream off Cascais. She had still had no word from Gair and kept trying to tell herself that no news was good news. Pedro was a great comfort. Warned by Gair, he did his best to keep an unobtrusive eye on her and also, most heartening of all, rode over to the Castle on the Rock and returned with loving messages from Daisy and Teresa, and with the expected news that Miguel had been arrested.

In the crowded Ajuda palace, hysteria was never far away. With the other ladies-in-waiting, Juana was kept occupied packing and repacking the royal wardrobe under Carlota Joaquina's furious orders.

Roberto found her alone, one dull November morning, trying in vain to close a huge Spanish leather trunk crammed to bursting with tissues and heavy brocades. ‘There you are, thank God. I couldn't get away before.'

‘You're here at last!' His presence in the Princess's apartments was a grave breach of etiquette, but she was beyond caring. ‘Roberto,' she hardly dared ask. ‘What's the news?'

‘None good, I'm afraid. There's been no word from Varlow. None from Strangford. And it's over a week now. I'm sorry.' He saw how hard it had hit her.

She sat on the floor, quite quiet, for a moment, then looked up at him, her eyes large with tears. ‘I should have known. He was so tired, Roberto. I shouldn't have let him waste his strength taking me to Ramalhao. You should have helped him – No, that's not fair: you had your own duties. It's my fault, all of it.'

He let her cry for a few minutes. Then, ‘Juana, I can't tell you how sorry I am, but I'm afraid you're right: he must have been caught. It seems impossible, if he managed to get out to the British squadron, that we haven't heard something before this.'

‘Yes. Even if he couldn't convince Strangford, he said, whatever happened, he would come back for me.' She was making a great effort to master her tears.

‘And he would have, if he could. But, Juana, you mustn't quite
despair. It would be difficult for him. There's no communication with the British, you know. We're almost in a state of war. But there's worse than that, for us. Juana, de Mascarenhas escaped.'

‘Oh, my God.' But she knew that in her heart she had expected this. ‘What's happened to poor Miguel?'

‘“Poor Miguel” as you call him has proved the double traitor I expected. Thanks to him, most of the inner circle have been arrested, but not all. And, of course, not the rank and file.' Even though they were alone in the room he did not name the Sons of the Star. ‘That's why I came to warn you. For God's sake, Juana, keep always with the other women. I don't like to see you alone like this, even here, in the palace. We know nothing of de Mascarenhas' whereabouts. It seems unlikely that he will have time to think of revenge, but if he should, you're the obvious target. Trust no one, Juana: keep always with the others; remember that even the guards may be members. I've sent for Teresa, by the way. At least you can trust her. You do realise, don't you, that as things are your only safety, like ours, lies in going to the Brazils with the court?'

‘I suppose so.' If Gair was dead, nothing mattered.

‘But, Juana' – his tone had changed – ‘we need your help.'

‘Mine?' Drowning in her private despair, it was an effort to pay attention.

‘Yes. Don't you see? Since de Mascarenhas is still free, he may try to give the signal, and strike his blow, even without the inner circle behind him. So, think as hard as you can, Juana. What did he say about the signal?'

She put a weary hand to her forehead. ‘Let me think. They were to wait until Junot and the French army were deep into Portugal … till they were tired out … They were conscripts, he said, raw troops … they'd not stand up to forced marches as the Old Guard would. Then, when they were nearly to Lisbon, he would give the signal, the Portuguese army would march in from the coast, the royal family would be murdered … It's horrible.' She was crying again.

‘Yes, Juana, but when?'

‘I don't know. He didn't say.'

‘Then, what signal?'

‘He would proclaim himself Sebastian. That was all he said. I don't think he trusted anyone, Roberto. That was his strength.'

‘And his weakness. With luck, since we have rounded up most
of the members of the inner circle, his message won't get to the army.'

‘Yes. But doesn't it seem absurd that they should still be on the coast, as if the English were the enemy?'

‘It may be absurd, but it's a crowning mercy, since we know that if they were here, they would be for de Mascarenhas. That's all you know about the signal?'

‘I'm afraid so. I'm sorry not to be more help.' She reached into the open trunk, pulled out a priceless piece of silver tissue and dried her eyes with it. ‘What will happen, Roberto?'

‘God knows. Dom John will decide nothing. He is waiting for Lord Strangford. It's just the excuse he needs to give way to his natural sloth. It would not befit his dignity, he says, to send again to the English. And, on the other hand, he can't make up his mind without consulting them. So – nothing is done. And, Juana, don't tell anyone: we don't want any more panic than there is already: but we had word this morning. Junot has left his main army behind at Abrantes and is coming on with the advance guard, by forced marches. They'll be here in two or three days.'

‘Two days!' The silver tissue tore in her hand.

‘Yes. Now you see why we need to know de Mascarenhas' signal. He may give it any time now, and once he does, frankly, I think we are all lost. It's not just Dom John and his wife … it's their children … all the other intended victims. You and I too, of course. I deserve it, for letting him fool me so … But the others … It doesn't bear thinking of. And we simply don't know who is loyal and who a member—' Again he did not name the Sons of the Star. ‘Even if I could persuade Dom John to go on board ship, there's no guarantee he'd be safe. His ships' captains themselves may be members.'

‘It's horrible.'

‘Yes. What is it?' Juana had stopped listening and was looking past him out the window which commanded a wide view of the Tagus.

‘Look!' A British sloop was beating its way up river, a flag of truce conspicuous at its masthead.

‘At last,' said Roberto. And then, ‘Don't let yourself to be too hopeful, Juana. It's been, so long. It may be nothing to do with Varlow. But I must get back to Dom John. He'll need me.'

‘I can't bear it, Roberto. To wait. Not to know.'

‘Juana, you must.'

She had to. Straining her eyes, she watched the sloop drop anchor well below the busy ships of the Portuguese fleet. She could see its boat pull to the Belem pier and a group of men disembark. Try how she would, she could not recognise their faces. She might pretend to herself that one active figure was Gair's, but she knew it for what it was, merely a pretence.

If time had dragged before, now it stood still. Word of the English arrival had run like wildfire through the palace. The ladies-in-waiting knew that their fate was being settled in Dom John's council chamber. Some were more frightened of the long sea voyage than of the French. As the note of hysteria grew, Carlota Joaquina sat motionless among them, like some ugly Eastern statue, waiting for news. Only when her adored children caught the general panic and five-year-old Dom Miguel burst into floods of panicky tears did she rouse herself from her furious passivity to comfort him and urge Juana to sing for them: ‘It will be better than this waiting.'

The waiting was nearly over. Next morning, a messenger from Dom John's apartments at the other end of the palace brought his orders that the household prepare for immediate embarkation. Pandemonium reigned. Still, in the midst of it, Carlota Joaquina maintained a furious calm that held her ladies' hysteria in check. It was she who gave the orders for loading the huge coach that would hold herself, her eight children, their nurse and two ladies-in-waiting. She singled out Juana for one of these: ‘You will keep your head, senhora.'