Seaflower (35 page)

Shrugging,
Kydd went on, '"Peter is a very amiable man, and he has the most wonderful
prospects. I met him at one of Mrs Daryton's assemblies. Oh, yes, she wishes to
be remembered to you, and of course dear Nicholas.

'"But
what I really want to tell you is that Peter is going to Jamaica to be
under-manager of a sugar plantation. You've no idea how happy that makes me! It
will only be a few years and we will set up our carriage, and a little time
after that we will be rich, and I will look after Mama and Papa — but I am
going too fast. I have to say that we have an understanding. Peter will return
to Jamaica and next month I travel with Jane Rodpole (you remember, the one at
school with the long hair and hopeless giggle). She goes to Jamaica for the
same reason. We will take lodgings together until—"' Kydd broke off. 'So,
y' sees, she must even now be in Kingston, Nicholas. We have t' find her, an'
celebrate all together.'

Chapter 13

Kydd
and Renzi's appearance — smart man-o'-war's men — attracted some curious looks
in Kingston town. Sailors rarely left the more direct pleasures of Port Royal
for the commercialism and bustle of Kingston, across the harbour from the Palisades.

It
was not hard to find the newcomers: there were streets of hostelries providing
rooms for merchants, travelling army wives and the like, and with rising
excitement Kydd found himself outside one of these. The door was opened by a
mistrustful housekeeper. Kydd shyly enquired about Miss Kydd. The woman agreed
to see if she was in to two sailors, but firmly closed the door on them while
she did so.

The
door opened again: a young lady with laughing eyes, hair whirled in a tight bun
in deference to the heat, looked at them both. 'Do I fin' m'self addressing
Miss Jane?' Kydd enquired, holding his hat awkwardly in his hands.

'You
do, sir. Might I ask .
..'
She looked
puzzled, but
there
was a barely repressed animation that was most fetching.

"Thomas
Kydd, Cecilia's brother.'

Her
hands flew to her mouth.

'An'
my particular friend, Nicholas Renzi.'

She
bobbed a curtsy in return to Renzi's studied bow, but her eyes were on Kydd,
wide and serious. 'Cecilia is out at the moment,' she said quietly, 'but if you
are at leisure, you may wish to await her return?'

Kydd
grinned widely. "That's kind in you, er, Miss Jane,' he said. She flashed
a smile, but it disappeared. quickly. They eased past the discouraging gaze of
the housekeeper, and were ushered into the front parlour.

Kydd
sat on the edge of a faded chintz chair. 'Ye must be happy f'r Cecilia, I
believe,' he began.

Jane
lowered her head for a moment, and when she spoke, it was controlled, formal.
'It were better she will tell you about it herself, Mr Kydd.'

He
felt the first stirrings of alarm but suppressed them. 'An' I got word that you
will be hearin' wedding bells y'rself, Miss Jane.'

She
bit her lip and replied, 'For two months hence.' An awkward silence developed,
and Kydd glanced at Renzi, who sat opposite. His expression had that
frustratingly impenetrable quality, which Kydd knew concealed his understanding
of a situation that he himself could not grasp.

Tea
arrived, the china rattling on the tray. They sipped decorously, in their sea
rig the little graces seeming incongruous. Kydd caught a furtive look from
Jane, a look of frank curiosity, and he wondered what the girls had discussed
concerning him. There was, however, something about the present situation that
was not right.

A
rattling at the front door had Jane recovering her poise. 'This is your sister,
I believe,' she said brightly, and rose to her feet. 'Oh, Cecilia!' she called.
'You have guests, my dear.' Footsteps sounded along the passage, and the door
opened.

Kydd
advanced to meet her — and faltered to a stop. It was Cecilia, but the pale,
drawn face, the black dress and veil? His smile faded. Uncertain how to
continue, he hesitated.

'Thomas!'
Cecilia seemed to wake, a small smile breaking through as she threw back the
veil. 'How wonderful!' A little of the old spirit came through. 'My, you look
so handsome in your sea costume!' Her eyes strayed to the livid bruise on his
head, 'Oh!' she said faintly.

'Jus'
a wound o' battle,' he said. She approached and hugged him with controlled
passion, the wound on his back making him gasp. 'Cec — what is it?' he blurted
out.

'Oh,
I declare, I'll be late for my dancing lesson,' Jane said. 'Please excuse me, I
must rush.'

Cecilia
noticed Renzi, standing unmoving in the background. 'Oh, Nicholas,' she said
warmly, 'how good to see you!' Renzi inclined his head, but stayed where he
was. Impulsively, Cecilia crossed to him and embraced him as well. 'Nicholas,
your complexion is like a Red Indian's, not the thing at all at home,' she
said.

When
Cecilia turned back to Kydd, her expression was rigid, brittle. 'It is only the
ten days I have been here in Jamaica, Thomas, but .
..'
Kydd pulled her towards him, and held her tight while sobs
racked her. Neither noticed Renzi slip from the room.

'It's
so — so unfair!' she wept. 'He was so happy to see me, and a week later he's in
his grave!'

'Er,
what.
..'

'On
Wednesday he had dreadful pains and sickness, and by Sunday
..
.' The tears were all the harder to bear
for their brevity and harsh depths. 'I was with him until

'I'm
so sorry f'r it, Cec, truly I am.' If it were the yellow fever, and she was
involved in his nursing, then the end would have been unspeakably hard to bear.

Cecilia
dabbed her eyes and looked away. There was now only the emptiness of destroyed
hopes.

Kydd
released her and said, gently, 'Cec, you're here in Jamaica with nothin' any
more. Have ye any means?'

'Of
course,' she said, but would not look at him directly. Kydd was stabbed with
pity: he knew his sister was strong and independent, and would rather die than
admit to any weakness. But a single woman without substance far from home . . .

'Have
ye any plans? There's nothin' t' keep you here.'

She
glanced at him. 'If you mean, what do I next, then
...
I will attend on Jane for her nuptials, of course.'

Kydd's
mouth opened in amazement. 'But
...'

She
looked at him with fondness. 'That is to say, my dear brother, that I crave
time to think, to put this nightmare from me — you do understand?'

Kydd
let a small smile show. There was time enough for brother and sister to get
together later. He felt doubtful, but blurted out, 'Nicholas an' I, we were on
our way t' kick up a hullabaloo on account of our success in
Seaflower
—
I know
"ft
not feelin's' spry, but if ye'd like to
...'

"Thank
you both — I hope you'll forgive me, but I need to be alone for just a little
while.' Her sad smile touched him deeply.

Then
he remembered. 'Here, Cec, if y' please.' He brought out his prize-money
ticket. 'Do ye see? Y'r Jack Tar is a foolish wight ashore. They say,
"Sailors get money like horses, 'n' spend it like asses." I'd take it
kindly if ye could look after this f'r me - takes th' temptation away.'

She.looked
at him steadily, then kissed him.

'Y'
presents it at the prize agent when he's got word fr'm the Admiralty — sign on
th' other side an' be sure the mumpin' rogue doesn't chouse ye.'

Renzi
was waiting outside, and they fell into step as Kydd told him of the
conversation. Renzi listened, and nodded gravely. Cecilia was right, she needed
time to herself for the moment to settle her feelings. Therefore there was no
reason why they shouldn't carry on with his original plan. 'Brother, there is
someone that it would give me the greatest of pleasure that you should meet.'
Kydd looked at him curiously. 'And it requires that we go up-country in a
ketureen.'

On
Broad Street they found one, the driver at first disbelieving that two sailors
wanted to head away from the delights of the port. 'On'y dese sugar pens dere,
nuthin' else, kooner-men!'

They
made Spanish Town before noon. The ketureen waited on the Grand Parade while
Renzi impressed Kydd with the sea splendours of the Rodney Memorial, the noble
portico of the King's House and the Rio Cobre of Columbus. They dined at a
roadside stall on rich yellow akee, salt fish and bammy bread before resuming
their journey. By late afternoon they had reached May Pen where they took the
road north.

Renzi
felt that the time had come, could no longer be deferred. 'My dear friend . .
.' His hand lay on Kydd's arm. 'Do you listen to what I say.'

Kydd
looked at him.

'The
personage we will stay with tonight is - my brother, Richard.'

Kydd
kept his silence.

'He
is a gentleman of some consequence in this island, I may say, and is an ornament
to the family.' Renzi stared into the distance. 'He knows of
my
— resolve in the matter of my moral
judgement, and respects it. Dare I ask it, it would infinitely oblige, should
you feign ignorance of my true position.'

Kydd
agreed solemnly.

'Then
I will touch on another matter, one which is perhaps the more delicate of the
two.' Renzi glanced at him before speaking. 'Do you not take offence, dear
friend, if I point out that in the article of polite formalities, you are as
yet
...
untutored, natural.' He
watched Kydd's expression tighten. 'But these, of course, are an accomplishment
obligatory only on those with pretensions to genteel society,' Renzi continued
carefully.

'Ye're
saying I'm goin' t' shame you to y’ brother?' Kydd growled.

'Not
as who would say’ Renzi muttered.

The
ketureen clattered on over the sandy, rutted road and Renzi thought perhaps he
had gone too far. In fairness it had to be said that it was really for Kydd's
sake that he had felt it proper to bring up the subject, in order that Kydd
himself would not feel uncomfortable in polite company rather than for any
selfish motive of his own. Cecilia had rapidly acquired a natural affinity with
the formalities of gentility, as was the way of women, but her brother, while
absorbing the deep-sea mariner's fine qualities of courage, humour and sturdy
self-reliance, had also absorbed their direct speech, and impatience with soft
shore ways. In many ways it would not be a kind thing to do to him .
..

Kydd
glowered, staring obstinately away. But then he recovered. 'Y'r in the right of
it, Nicholas.' He sighed. 'F'r you only. But what .
..'

'It
will be very agreeable to me if you keep station on myself, mark my motions and
do the same, and you will not be so very far from success.'

'Aye’
Kydd said briefly. In the sugar field they were passing there were women with
baskets on their heads, gay in red and yellow, some weeding, others scouring
the stubbled ground. A snatch of singing came floating over the distance. Kydd
looked out, brooding. Then he turned to-Renzi and said firmly, 'Be s' good as
t' give me a steer on y' manners when it's time f'r vittles, Nicholas.'

'Why,
it's not so perilous, dear fellow/ Renzi said, with great satisfaction: he
would now provide a clear and seamanlike course to follow, perfectly suited to
a plain-thinking sailor.

*     
*      *

Their
ketureen arrived at the Great House, and the two travellers were made cordially
welcome.

'A
fine surprise, Nicholas!' Laughton declared, his delight obvious. 'And a
distinct pleasure to make acquaintance with your friend, back from the dead,'
he said, looking at Kydd keenly.

'Would
it inconvenience,' Renzi asked, with the utmost politeness, 'were we to beg the
loan of attire perhaps more in keeping with the country?'

'But,
of course, dear fellow.'

The
days that followed were a haze of impressions for Kydd — the vast fields of
sugar-cane whose harvest would end at some point as pungent Royal Navy rum;
the slow daily round of field work with the lines of slaves moving across the
fields, the younger ones bringing up the rear weeding and clearing with their
own 'pickney driver'. It was utterly at odds with Kydd's world.