An Introduction To The Eternal Collection Jubilee Edition (21 page)

She saw then in that moment the difference between right and wrong, between good love and bad, and knew where her choice lay, however much heartbreak it must bring her.

Her tears stopped after a while and then she washed her face and started to change her clothes for the evening meal. For a moment she wondered whether she could face either Rodney or Don Miguel again, and then she knew that to stay in her cabin tonight would only make matters worse. Tomorrow must come. There was no escape from people aboard ship. They must meet and they must behave as if nothing had happened, because, however much their hearts might ache and break, they were two months’ voyage from home.

For the first time since she had come to sea Lizbeth felt that things would be easier could she appear as herself. This terrible state of affairs of pretending to be Mister Gillingham in front of the officers and the men was beginning to be distasteful and irksome, and she wished that tonight of all nights she could be Lizbeth both to Rodney who hated her and to Don Miguel who loved her.

It was vanity that made her choose Francis’ best doublet of blue satin, the sleeves slashed and puffed; the ruff which went with it was edged with silver, and when she looked at herself in the burnished mirror, Lizbeth was not ashamed of her appearance.

All the same, she saw herself for a moment in her mind’s eye in the green Chinese silk that Don Miguel had described to her and she imagined the emeralds clasped around her neck, the bracelet on her wrist and the ring on her finger; and she wondered if she came into the cabin in such attire Rodney’s eyes would light at the sight of her and he would say again the words he had spoken but a few hours ago in astonished surprise.

“You are lovely!”

She could hear his voice, and yet she knew the words were not spoken as she would have him say them! With a jerk she called a halt to her imagination. Rodney belonged to Phillida her half-sister. They were betrothed and Phillida was pledged to him whether she wished it or not.

With a little sigh Lizbeth put up her hands to her face and then defiantly she threw back her head and opened the door. She might do many things that were wrong, but she was not a coward. She would face Rodney tonight, and Don Miguel, however much she might shrink from doing so, however great the hurt to her heart.

She went into the after cabin. Supper was being brought to the table, and as she expected, Rodney and Don Miguel were waiting for her. Both were pale and grim and both men seemed uncomfortable at her presence. As Hapley came into the room carrying the heavy gold dishes for the first course, Rodney took his place at the head of the table, with Lizbeth on his right and Don Miguel on his left.

Supper was eaten in silence. Lizbeth afterwards had no idea what she ate or what was set before her. It was only when the servants had withdrawn and they were left alone in the soft candle-light that Rodney emptied his goblet of wine and set it down with a sudden thud on the table.

He had been waiting for this moment, Lizbeth thought, waiting until he could speak freely. She knew that what he was going to say would be unpleasant.

“I have spoken to Senor de Suavez,” he said to Lizbeth, “and I have told him that, since he cannot conduct himself as a gentleman, he will no longer have the liberty of the ship. He will have his meals here with us, but otherwise he will be confined to his cabin. The door will be locked and a sentry will be on guard both night and day. In these circumstances it is not necessary for me to tell you that you are to have no intercourse whatever with him. If you wish to address this man, you will do so in front of me.”

“Rodney, you cannot do this!” Lizbeth protested heartily. “It is unjust. Don Miguel has done nothing to offend me, and if he has spoken of love that is my business and his. It has nothing to do with you.”

“It has a great deal to do with me,” Rodney retorted. Lizbeth knew by the pulse beating in his throat that his calm, unhurried manner of speaking was only a pose. He was still angry, as angry as he had been a little while earlier when he flung her to the floor.

“You are here as a guest on my ship,” Rodney continued, “and de Suavez is my prisoner. I should be within my rights if I clapped him in irons and left him down in the depths of the ship. Out of decency I have given him a place at my table, I have allowed him the freedom to talk with you and with the other officers aboard. He has abused my generosity by attempting to seduce an English woman, an honoured guest, the daughter of the man who has a part share in the ship in which we sailed from England.”

“I still say that what you are doing is unfair,” Lizbeth said quietly. “It is unfortunate for Don Miguel that an English woman should be aboard. That is my fault, not his and if you wish to punish anyone, you should punish me.”

Her words did nothing to mitigate Rodney’s anger.

“You are talking nonsense,” he answered harshly. “Besides, I am not inclined to argue with you. I have told de Suavez what to expect, a guard has already been put outside his cabin. There it will stay till I can hand him over to the authorities in England.”

It seemed to Lizbeth that Don Miguel paled a little. He made no protest, but Lizbeth was not prepared to be over-ridden by Rodney’s authority. She loved him, she thought, watching his face in the light of the candle, and yet she was able to see his faults. He was being hard and ungenerous over this. He was being unjust and using his authority in the wrong way just because his anger was aroused.

Perhaps there was something of pride in it, she thought, and perhaps pique, too, because Don Miguel had discovered the secret of her sex. Whatever his reasons, she was not prepared to accept them and pushing back her chair a little now, she said:

“To make different arrangements now as to the custody of Don Miguel will cause comment in the ship. The men will begin to speculate as to what has happened and if people are anxious to solve a mystery, there is usually a mystery to be solved.

“We all make mistakes, and perhaps Don Miguel made one this evening when he told me of his feelings. Shall we say that he should have controlled them but other people also lose control of themselves but are not punished so harshly.”

She was being particularly daring in what she was saying, she knew that. Nevertheless she knew that her arguments were having their effect on Rodney. He was frowning, his brows knitted together. She could see him considering her words and wondering if in reality he was being unwise to alter the arrangements about his prisoner.

“Very well,” he said at length, “I will agree to this on one condition only, that you both give me your word of honour that you will never be alone together in this cabin or in any other place where you are not within hearing of someone else.”

There was a little pause and then quickly, because Lizbeth knew that the concession had been a great effort to Rodney’s pride, she said:

“I agree. Don Miguel and I will not be alone. When we talk together, there shall always be someone within hearing.”

And it will please me if you talk as little as possible. Do you promise, de Suavez?”

“I give you my word of honour;” Don Miguel answered. His dark eyes met Lizbeth’s across the table as he spoke, and she could have cried out at the misery within them. There was nothing more she could do for the moment. She had interceded with Rodney and been successful; but she knew that he was still angry and was afraid of provoking him further.

Don Miguel rose to his feet.

“If you will permit me, I will retire to my own cabin”

“You have my permission,” Rodney answered coldly. “ The guard will be removed.”

“Thank you.”

Don Miguel’s bow was frigid; then he bowed to Lizbeth and left the cabin.

“Thank you.”

Lizbeth said softly to Rodney.

He struck his clenched fist down on the table fiercely.

“Faith! But don’t thank me,” he cried. “If I had my way. I would hang the Spaniard from the yard-arm but I will have no one else on board guessing who you are and why you came here. There is trouble from it as it is.”

Lizbeth did not answer, but rose to her feet and walking across the cabin, stood for a moment looking at the picture behind which lay Don Miguel’s secret hiding place. She saw that the box of jewels had been removed from the table when it was laid for, supper and put on a chest beneath the picture itself. She wondered if Rodney had looked at them or whether in his anger he had ignored them as he had done when she first tried to tell him about them.

And then she started as she heard his voice behind her, not having realised that he had risen from the table.

“Lizbeth, I am sorry.”

His voice was quite humble now and there was no anger in it. She looked up at him and saw that his face had changed – the arrogance had gone, instead he looked like himself again.

“I am sorry,” he repeated. “I should not have behaved to you as I did, but you drove me beyond endurance.

“We will forget it,” Lizbeth said in a low voice, knowing as she spoke that she would never forget the hardness of Rodney’s lips on hers, the strength of his arms around her.

“That is all right, then,” Rodney answered in tones of relief.

Like every man he was anxious to get away from the embarrassing subject and he put out his hand to take up the box of jewels.

“You were going to tell me about these,” he suggested. “They were hidden behind that picture,” Lizbeth answered, striving to speak naturally. “Don Miguel showed them to me.”

Rodney opened the box, which had not been locked again, and now he drew in his breath as he saw the jewels and realised a little of their value.

“These are worth a fortune,” he exclaimed, then added, “You say de Suavez showed them to you?”

“Yes,” Lizbeth replied. “They were hidden behind this picture. There is a secret panel in the wall.”

“I wonder why he showed them to you – ?” Rodney began.

Lizbeth looked away from him a little anxiously.

“But of course I know!” he added sharply. “He wanted to give them to you. He is in love with you, he has admitted as much.”

“I refused them,” Lizbeth said quickly.

“How dare he?” Rodney asked. “He knows as well as I do that the spoils of a ship all belong to a common pool.”

“I doubt if you would ever have found these,” Lizbeth told him quietly. “If he had not shown me, I would never have guessed that anything was hidden there. You had no idea either.

Rodney looked down at the emeralds in the box and then at Lizbeth.

“He must love you very much. Were you tempted to accept them?”

“Of course not!”

Lizbeth’s tone was indignant.

“I wish I could believe you,” Rodney said. “Perhaps my entrance into the cabin was more inopportune than I realised at the time!”

“I think you are being insulting,” Lizbeth said. “I told you that I had already refused the jewels. There is no point in our discussing it further.”

She walked away as she spoke. She hoped, as she reached the door, that he would call her back. But he said nothing and she left him with the box of jewels in his hands, staring down at the great square-cut emerald.

10

The men were cheering, half ironically, as a pearling lugger was brought alongside the Santa Perpetua. There were six Spaniards in charge of it, and as they were brought aboard Lizbeth could see that they were the type she had imagined all Spaniards to be before she met Don Miguel.

Their faces were coarse and bestial, their deportment arrogant; and that they were brutal was obvious when one looked at the natives they had commanded in the lugger. Every man had open wounds across his back where he had been struck with the many-thonged leather whips which the Spaniards used so cruelly on their slaves.

They were very different indeed from the natives whom Rodney had asked to volunteer for service on the English ships, cowed and broken both in body and spirit, they did not seem to care what happened to them, and the fact that their ship had been captured seemed to leave them only apathetic.

Rodney called the Cimaroon to his side.

“Do you know these men?” he asked. The Cimaroon nodded.

“They are not of my tribe,” he said. “They come from further South.”

“They will be of little use even if they consent to sail with us,” Rodney said. “If I put them ashore, will they manage to get back to their own people”

The Cimaroon shrugged.

“Those who survive will doubtless find their way home,” he said.

“So be it!”

Rodney gave the order for the boats to take the captured slaves and put them ashore; but even this hardly seemed to rouse the Indians from their lethargy; and the Spaniards, watching what appeared to them the mercifulness of a madman, sneered openly. Their hard faces and bold eyes made Lizbeth shudder.

She remembered how Rodney had told her to poison herself rather than be captured by the Spaniards, and now she saw the reason for this suggestion. Death was infinitely preferable to being at the mercy of men such as these. She was even relieved as she heard Rodney give the order for them to be taken below and put in chains.

The contents of the lugger were brought aboard. There was a small amount of silver and a quantity of wine that was being taken to the Governor of a settlement farther north; but these were unimportant beside the pearls which the lugger was conveying to Nombre de Dios to be ready for the sailing of the next gold fleet.

There were canvas bags full of them hidden in a safe place in the Captain’s cabin. All were valuable; but there were not, Rodney decided, any exceptionally fine specimens among them, until a further search of the lugger revealed a small tin box hidden beneath the boards of the cabin. There were only six pearls in the box, but they were enough to make Rodney exclaim in astonishment, for he knew that these indeed were treasure trove. Softly pink as the morning sky, they shimmered iridescent in the sunlight, so delicate, so lovely in their texture that even the most inexperienced beholder must have some idea of their intrinsic value.

Rodney placed them in his own cabin for safety and giving orders that they would tow the lugger until they could find a convenient place to break her up, he signalled the
Sea Hawk
that he wished to talk with Barlow.