silent, all the way, listening to the rowers’ strange, melancholy song and rehearsing herself in the arrangements of the big house at Winchelsea.
Just the same, when the rowers pulled into the well-kept wharf and Satan jumped out to help her on shore, she could hardly restrain a gasp of surprise and pleasure. Josephine had told her, carefully, all about the physical details of the place, but had failed to tell her that it was beautiful. ‘It’s good to be back,’ she smiled at Satan.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
She had time, while they were busy landing the enormous quantity of baggage without which Josephine never seemed to travel, to look about and get herself placed. Downstream, a little way, was the Chinese pavilion Hyde had built for Josephine because she had read about the Prince Regent’s curious palace at Brighton. ‘A good place to be alone in,’ Josephine had called it. Now, with a little pang of fear, Juliet wondered whether, perhaps, it was also a good place to meet that frightening Fonseca. She must remember to ask Anne what his first name was, before she betrayed herself by ignorance.
But right now she was forgetting something. She turned impatiently to Satan. ‘What in the world has become of the carriage?’ she asked. ‘Mr. Purchis said he had given every order for my trip. He can hardly have expected me to walk up to the house.’
‘No, ma’am.’ He smiled immensely at her and broke into a rather broader speech than he normally used. ‘You done clean forgot that Mr. Purchis he don’ like his horses brought down the bluff.’
‘He might have this once!’ She made her voice petulant. And then, ‘Oh very well then. Anne, you lead the way, and for God’s sake keep your eyes open for snakes.’
This was a much lower bluff than the one at Savannah, and she would probably have been aware of the carriage and horses that awaited her at the top if it had not been for the thick plantation of evergreens and the excited voices of the servants who had been busy carrying up Josephine’s huge boxes. Deep, soft sand silenced the horses, but one of them let out a delighted whicker at sight of her, and she remembered, with pleasure, that this was something she and her cousin had in common. She patted the glossy nose and smiled at the man who held the reins. ‘Well, Charon, and how are you?’
‘All the better for seeing you, ma’am, and so are we all. And as for Miss Abigail, she’s plumb tuckered out with pleasure and delight.’
‘Then I’d better lose no time in joining her. The wagon is coming for the baggage?’
‘Yes, ma’am, Mis’ Josephine. Just as soon as you’re safe home, I’ll hitch up Shem there that’s so pleased to see you and come down with the wagon. Ham’s thrown out a splint,’ he answered a question she should clearly have asked. ‘But we’re managing.’
‘And Ariel?’ Josephine would ask about her own riding horse before anything else.
‘Fretting for exercise. Miss Abigail’s not the only one will be glad to see you.’
‘Good. I’ll ride this afternoon.’ And then, as she let herself be helped carefully into the huge, the antediluvian carriage, ‘Oh, God,’ to herself, ‘suppose Fonseca comes?’ ‘Our rendezvous ’ he had said. And, earlier, of Savannah, ‘Same time, same place.’ But what time? What place? And what in the world should she do about him?
But Charon had shouted to his horses and they had churned up a great cloud of dust as they pulled the heavy carriage forward and round another plantation of evergreens to the beginning of the carriage drive Josephine had described. But description, and certainly Josephine’s bored description, had given no idea of the reality. ‘Ilexes,’ Josephine had said, ‘with that dreary creeper draped all over them.’
Juliet drew a deep, delighted breath. In front of her, the huge trees marched away on either side of the white, oyster-shell drive. Mild December sunlight filtered through the narrow, dark
Just the same, when the rowers pulled into the well-kept wharf and Satan jumped out to help her on shore, she could hardly restrain a gasp of surprise and pleasure. Josephine had told her, carefully, all about the physical details of the place, but had failed to tell her that it was beautiful. ‘It’s good to be back,’ she smiled at Satan.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
She had time, while they were busy landing the enormous quantity of baggage without which Josephine never seemed to travel, to look about and get herself placed. Downstream, a little way, was the Chinese pavilion Hyde had built for Josephine because she had read about the Prince Regent’s curious palace at Brighton. ‘A good place to be alone in,’ Josephine had called it. Now, with a little pang of fear, Juliet wondered whether, perhaps, it was also a good place to meet that frightening Fonseca. She must remember to ask Anne what his first name was, before she betrayed herself by ignorance.
But right now she was forgetting something. She turned impatiently to Satan. ‘What in the world has become of the carriage?’ she asked. ‘Mr. Purchis said he had given every order for my trip. He can hardly have expected me to walk up to the house.’
‘No, ma’am.’ He smiled immensely at her and broke into a rather broader speech than he normally used. ‘You done clean forgot that Mr. Purchis he don’ like his horses brought down the bluff.’
‘He might have this once!’ She made her voice petulant. And then, ‘Oh very well then. Anne, you lead the way, and for God’s sake keep your eyes open for snakes.’
This was a much lower bluff than the one at Savannah, and she would probably have been aware of the carriage and horses that awaited her at the top if it had not been for the thick plantation of evergreens and the excited voices of the servants who had been busy carrying up Josephine’s huge boxes. Deep, soft sand silenced the horses, but one of them let out a delighted whicker at sight of her, and she remembered, with pleasure, that this was something she and her cousin had in common. She patted the glossy nose and smiled at the man who held the reins. ‘Well, Charon, and how are you?’
‘All the better for seeing you, ma’am, and so are we all. And as for Miss Abigail, she’s plumb tuckered out with pleasure and delight.’
‘Then I’d better lose no time in joining her. The wagon is coming for the baggage?’
‘Yes, ma’am, Mis’ Josephine. Just as soon as you’re safe home, I’ll hitch up Shem there that’s so pleased to see you and come down with the wagon. Ham’s thrown out a splint,’ he answered a question she should clearly have asked. ‘But we’re managing.’
‘And Ariel?’ Josephine would ask about her own riding horse before anything else.
‘Fretting for exercise. Miss Abigail’s not the only one will be glad to see you.’
‘Good. I’ll ride this afternoon.’ And then, as she let herself be helped carefully into the huge, the antediluvian carriage, ‘Oh, God,’ to herself, ‘suppose Fonseca comes?’ ‘Our rendezvous ’ he had said. And, earlier, of Savannah, ‘Same time, same place.’ But what time? What place? And what in the world should she do about him?
But Charon had shouted to his horses and they had churned up a great cloud of dust as they pulled the heavy carriage forward and round another plantation of evergreens to the beginning of the carriage drive Josephine had described. But description, and certainly Josephine’s bored description, had given no idea of the reality. ‘Ilexes,’ Josephine had said, ‘with that dreary creeper draped all over them.’
Juliet drew a deep, delighted breath. In front of her, the huge trees marched away on either side of the white, oyster-shell drive. Mild December sunlight filtered through the narrow, dark
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