She felt Mr Penfold’s hand at her elbow. ‘Come, my angel one, there is a chill in the night air. You must not take cold.’
She turned an entreating face to him. ‘Oh please! I am well wrapped up. I do so want to remain here as long as I can still see anything of Madeira.’
“You are entering a new life now, dearest child,’ he remonstrated, but mildly. ‘You mustn’t attempt to cling to the old one.’
‘But I’m not. It’s just... well, I’ve never been away from home before. I suppose,’ she added,
‘
you
must think I’ve led a dreadfully narrow existence?’
‘It delights me, my treasure, that everything I show you will be seen with fresh young eyes.’ He smiled down at her indulgently. ‘Very well then, because you have asked me so prettily, I will leave you to make your private farewells. I’ll return for you after I’ve had a word with my captain.’
He ascended the companionway to the bridge and she was left quite alone, this part of the steamer’s deck being reserved for the occupants of the principal stateroom. From the public deck beyond the barrier she could hear talk and laughter as the other passengers settled in and began to make new friendships for the four-day voyage. But for Marianna, solitude was a relief. Watching the fast dwindling lights on the shore, she let her mind dwell upon the events of this very special day her sixteenth birthday and her wedding day.
The civil marriage ceremony had been a simple matter and soon over. It was the service of blessing that followed at the English Church which she counted as her real wedding. Afterwards, with William looking very splendid in a dove-grey frock coat, and herself in the beautiful ivory silk bridal gown with its train of richest silver moire, they had returned down Bela Vista Street in a bullock sledge specially decorated for the occasion with curtains of Madeira lace, and wreaths of orange blossom that had been brought down from the
quinta
fresh that morning. Behind them walked her six bridesmaids, friends from the Misses Braithwaites’ academy, in their blush-pink tulle dresses, and the rest of the congregation had made their way in a medley of conveyances — sleds and hammocks and palanquins — with others on horseback or on foot.
A military band had struck up a lively march as the bridal conveyance had turned into Rua da Alfandega, and she and her husband had welcomed their guests in the splendid saloon of the British Consulate. There had followed much eating and drinking, and the bride cake had been cut, and there had been a speech by her papa — five minutes which Marianna preferred not to remember too clearly because he had kept stumbling over his words and repeating himself. Then there was dancing to a quadrille band, and as darkness fell everybody had trooped outside to witness the magnificent firework display which Mr Penfold had commissioned.
Such a crowded, bewildering day. There had scarcely been a moment’s pause from the time Linguareira had come to her bedroom to waken her this morning. Now it was all over and she faced her new life, the unknown life which lay ahead. Marianna felt a shiver run through her and she realized that she had become a little chilled after all. But she remained at the rail until the last pinpoints of light had faded and there was just the dark ocean all around, rising and falling in a gentle swell, with a canopy of stars above.
‘Come along now, dearest love, it is time to retire.’
Obediently, Marianna turned away and crossed the deck with her husband to their stateroom. The stewardess who was to be her maid during the voyage, a middle-aged woman with grey hair drawn back from a visage of unrelieved severity, was turning down the bed. Catching Mr Penfold’s curt nod, she made haste to finish.
‘You will not be required again tonight,’ she was told.
‘Very good, sir. Goodnight, madam.’
Madam! Marianna had to suppress a giggle; but she felt terribly nervous, too. To conceal this she made a pretence of studying the luxurious appointments and fittings, though she had already viewed their stateroom an hour since. Her papa had accompanied the bridal pair in the longboat for a final farewell on board, and while he and William chatted on deck, she had come here to have a word with Linguareira. Her
aia
had been rowed out ahead of them and was busy unpacking what things Marianna would need on the voyage.
In those last few minutes together they had both felt tongue-tied, not knowing how to say goodbye. Marianna had felt tears brimming, and tried to blink them away. Linguareira, her eyes directed to the large bed draped with white net, its quilt of rose silk brocade, had ventured at last, ‘Mayhap there will be a child very soon,
menina,
and that will be a great blessing for you.’ Then in a rush of unwonted tenderness, she had exclaimed, ‘Oh, my little one! Just try to remember the things I told you and all will be well.’
‘I’ll do my very best, Linguareira.’
They were standing a few feet apart, but in a flash the gap was closed. Marianna found herself locked in a tight, motherly embrace. Hearing a curious wheezing sound, she realized that Linguareira was actually crying.
‘Senhor Penfold is your wedded husband now,’ she said, ‘and you must be a dutiful wife to him,
menina.
You must please him in each and every way. You know that?’
Marianna nodded silently.
‘So be it, then. And may the Blessed Virgin smile upon you and preserve you from harm.’
Ten minutes later Marianna had been standing at the rail beside her husband, waving goodbye to the two people who had been so close to her all her young life. She accepted, a little guiltily, that parting from Linguareira was a greater wrench than parting from her papa; but she thrust out the knowledge that there was yet someone else whom she would miss even more intensely than either of them. The bitterness and animosity of that very last encounter with Jacinto hung like a heavy stone in her heart.
Now, in the cabin, Marianna’s nervousness swelled almost to panic. She had expected that her husband would withdraw to the small adjoining cabin while she prepared herself for bed. But he made no move to leave. Instead, he came and removed her mantle of bronze taffeta. Marianna made to take it from him, but he shook his head and dropped it heedlessly to the carpet. With his two hands he took hold of her face, cupping it, and before she realized what he was intending he had withdrawn the hairpins and let her hair tumble down about her shoulders.
‘Such pretty golden tresses,’ he murmured. ‘This is how I like to see you, my sweet angel. A picture of purity and innocence.’
Confused and embarrassed, Marianna wanted to look away from the intent gaze of his deep-set grey eyes. But he was her husband and she must not seem to evade him in any way.
‘I suppose,’ she said shyly, her breath coming in little jerks, ‘that I should call you William now.’
He laughed. ‘Indeed, yes! But not, I trust, when we are alone together. You can do better than that, my precious.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why, when two people are in love, they usually have their own favourite little pet names for each other.’
‘Oh ... such as what?’
He touched the tip of her nose with a reproving finger. ‘You must put your clever little mind to work and think of something suitable for me. As to what I shall call you — well, we shall see.’
Mr Penfold spread his coat-tails and seated himself on an armchair that was bolted down against rough weather. He put out his hand to Marianna invitingly.
‘Come and sit on my lap, dearest child, and tell me how you enjoyed our wedding. Was it grand enough for you? I arranged to have the very best of everything that was available on the island.’
‘It was wonderful ... William. Quite the grandest wedding there has ever been, I should think.’
‘Excellent! That was how I wanted it to be for you, my little love.’
As they talked his arms slid around her, drawing her closer against him, his hand stroking the long strands of her fair hair. In the few brief hours they had spent alone together since their betrothal, she had already discovered how much he liked to cuddle and fondle her. But Marianna was still uneasy in such close proximity, not liking the rough feel of his bearded cheek pressed against hers, his winey breath hot on her skin. She feared that he must have noticed how her whole body shrank away when he touched her. In an effort to demonstrate the affection she felt, she put her arms about his neck and leaned against him. He murmured appreciatively and a moment later, to Marianna’s dismay, she felt him lay his hand on the front of her bodice, his fingers fumbling with the crystal buttons.
‘William, please!’
The fingers stilled, but did not draw away. ‘What is it, darling child?’
‘I… I wish you would not do that.’
She made to slip from his knee, but he held her there, gently but with unmistakable firmness.
‘How charming that you should be so shy,’ he said with a fond smile. ‘But I am your husband, dear little Marianna. All those solemn, sacred vows, have they alarmed you?’ He drew his face away a little and playfully adopted a grave expression. ‘You must honour and obey me now, remember. That’s what you have undertaken. And for my part, I must cherish you — ah yes! You need have no fear that I shall fail to cherish you, sweet child.’
With eyes closed in embarrassment, she felt his fingers unfastening her bodice once more, and slipping through the aperture until his palm rested in the shallow valley between her budding breasts.
‘How warm,’ he whispered huskily, ‘how soft and secret and tender! Ah, I can feel the little fledgling heart so wildly beating! But you are no ordinary fledgling, my angel, pushed from the nest to fend for yourself in a cruel, harsh world. You are not abandoned, for your big strong William is here to see that no harm befalls his precious little one.’
Marianna whispered on a thread of breath, ‘I will try to be the sort of wife you want me to be, William. I shall do my very utmost to please you. But ... you will be kind to me, won’t you?’
‘Have I
not
been kind to you, my darling? And always will be, that is my promise and my pledge.’ He withdrew his hand and reached into the side pocket of his coat. ‘Here, I give you this as a token of my love, a seal upon my promise.’ He held up, temptingly, a little red morocco case.
‘What is it, William?’
He put the leather case into her two hands, holding them a moment between his two larger ones.
‘There now — open it and see.’
Inside, nestling in a bed of ruched silk, was a brooch in the shape of two hearts entwined, the initials M and W picked out in pearls and diamonds. As Marianna lifted it out, the diamonds caught the lamplight and sparkled,
‘Oh,William, it is beautiful! But you have already given me so many lovely things.’
‘And pray why not? As long as my angel likes pretty trinkets, she shall have lots and lots of them. You will see. When I was in Rio I found such a clever jeweller, and he made this to my special order. He protested that it was impossible in so short a time, but I could not come to marry my darling empty-handed.’
Marianna flung her arms about his neck impulsively and kissed him on the cheek, flooded with a warm and wonderful conviction that her marriage would be every thing she longed for it to be. How could she avoid coming to love such a kind and generous man as this?
‘In her newfound wave of bliss she eagerly accepted William’s kisses, on her hair, her temples, her eyes and her lips, happy for her husband to be made happy. Then, slowly, she became aware that it was no longer just a button or two of her bodice unfastened, but the entire front. She recoiled sharply when he made to slide the garment from her shoulders, and he chided her.
‘You must not deny me, sweet child. I have for so long dreamed of this moment when you would be my own dear little darling. Now at last I am free to look upon you in all your innocent loveliness. Come, do not tremble so. There now! You have such adorable little shoulders, such soft smooth skin…’
Choking back her distress, her feeling of outrage, Marianna was obliged to submit as he removed her garments one by one, exclaiming delightedly over the frills and flounces of her petticoats. He was gleefully impatient with the hooks and eyes, the tapes and ties, that briefly thwarted him.
‘You naughty minx, how well you hide your sweet secrets. But William will not be defeated.’ There was a quick bubbling excitement in his voice as he released the last obstacle. ‘Now, up with you a moment and off with these pretty drawers. Ah, what lovely white thighs, so round and plump. And a soft tummy with its delicious little rosebud ...’
‘Please ... please don’t, William!’ Her words were faint, strangled. With the last of her clothing removed she felt a quite desperate sense of embarrassment. Every square inch of her body seemed on fire with blushes, and she could not control its trembling. Yet still she was obliged to sit there on his knee, the cloth of his coat and trousers rough against her naked skin, while his fingers stroked and caressed her.
‘Let me put on my nightdress now,’ she pleaded.
‘Ah yes.’ He released her, and as she hastened to the bed for the embroidered cambric gown the stewardess had laid out for her, he said, ‘No, not that one! I have such a pretty nightgown for my darling, but she must find it first. Now, where might it be?’
‘Please, William’ she begged. ‘Tell me!’
‘No, you must look. Is it there, in one of the cupboards, do you think? Or in a drawer somewhere? You have to find a shiny pink box tied with satin ribbon.’
At first Marianna was too stunned and bemused to move, then in a sudden fever she began searching. Her sense of degradation was truly awful. Linguareira had never taught her to be ashamed of her unclothed body, as some girls of her acquaintance undoubtedly were, but neither had she been expected to linger in a state of nudity. She found the box at last, hidden under a cushion, and with a sob of relief she ripped it open. Quickly, she shook out the folded nightdress and held it against herself as a shield.
‘Bring it to me,’ her husband ordered, ‘and I shall put it on for you.’