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Authors: Christopher Nicole

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HF - 03 - The Devil's Own (48 page)

BOOK: HF - 03 - The Devil's Own
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And she worked in the garden. This was a continually amazing sight, to watch her kneeling beside Abigail, tending some new plant with the care she might have bestowed upon a dying man, those slender white fingers stained with dirt, that golden glory starting to drop in disorganized wisps about her ears and over her forehead.

She revealed happiness, in herself, and in her being. To awake in the morning, and to inhale, was happiness, for Lilian Christiansscn. Whatever followed would also be happiness, she had no doubt, but she was content to have it follow in its proper course, at its proper time, and then to enjoy it as fully as she enjoyed merely stretching, and knowing her health, and her immediate comfort. She never spoke of her parents or her religion, beyond a tendency always to place his weapons out of sight when he took them off. When she prayed it was by herself, in a corner of the bedroom, on her knees, her face turned to the wall. He was not invited to join her. So, for what did she pray? For her forgiveness, or for his conversion? And indeed he was tempted, time and again, to kneel beside her. But in no religious spirit. Only to share the one part of her being which was barred to him.

And she did not speak of the future. The future was perhaps too uncertain even for her. She revealed this in her tears at Abigail's pregnancy. Agrippa was beside himself with joy, and Kit felt vastly complimented. His friends would not bring a child into the world they had known in St John's, but this world, the world he had created for them, was acceptable. But not for Lilian, yet. There was no permanence, in Falmouth, for a fugitive from family and convention. And for all the delights of a continual honeymoon, with nothing to do but eat, sleep, love and laugh, tend the garden and help Agrippa spread the nets for the fish which formed the main part of their diet, they both knew that he could not continue to stagnate for the rest of his life.

Yet he needed a crisis to stir him from his lethargy. The death of the King reminded him that time waited for no man. Still would he not leave Lilian's side. 'You will have to go, Agrippa, old friend.' he said. 'I will give you letters, and you
will take the sloop from English Harbour, and go to Sandy Point, and request an audience of Sir William. He will grant it readily enough when he learns it comes from me. I wish a post, with the Government. The Government of the Leeward Islands, not the Government of Antigua, and preferably at sea, although I will command on land if need be. He promised me no less, and now I would ask it of him.'

'Aye,' Agrippa said, with satisfaction. For he too had feared that the sharpness of the blade which was his friend would be blunted by inactivity.

'Necessary?' Lilian asked, as they watched the sloop bobbing across the passage to the sister island. 'Why must men always
do?
'

'Because they are men. But I shall not be doing so very much, lover, or be so very far away from you.'

'I would like you, always, right here at my side, Kit.'

'Because when I am gone you begin to doubt.'

She glanced at him, frowning, surprised that he should be capable of that much understanding. 'I am not as strong as you would wish, perhaps.'

He laughed, and held her hand for the walk back along the beach to their little house. 'Allow me to have the strength, and you rest content with the goodness which bubbles out of you like steam from a volcano.'

Yet was she invested with more passion than ever in the past, at the thought of losing him, if only for a few days a week, and they resumed their honeymoon with more intensity than ever before, to awake one morning to the sight of Agrippa hurrying up the beach from English Harbour, accompanied by an officer of the St Kitts garrison.

Kit pulled on his breeches and ran down the stairs. 'Holloa,' he shouted. 'Am I then to be arrested for being happy?'

The officer panted, and removed his hat as he reached the cottage. 'Ensign Frankland at your service, sir. And right glad am I to meet you, Captain Hilton.'

'I am sure the pleasure will be mutual,' Kit said. 'Come in, man, come in. You'll take a glass of rum?'

 

'Indeed, sir, that would be most pleasant.' Frankland sat down without being invited, and mopped his face. Abigail hurried forward with a glass.

 

Kit glanced at Agrippa. 'There has been some mishap?' 'Well, that is hard to say.'

 

'We hope not, sir. We hope not.' Frankland drank deeply, and seemed to feel more in command of himself. 'First of all, sir, I am charged to say that you shall have whatever employment you wish, when the other matter is settled.'

 

'The other matter?'

 

'Your first duty must be to act as a witness for the Crown in the affair of Philip Warner.'

Kit frowned at him. 'Witness? I wrote out and signed my deposition before the Governor himself. What, would they have me travel to England?'

'No, sir, and there is the point. The English Government, having due regard to their distance from the alleged crime, and the distinguished services which are laid to the credit of Colonel Warner, have concluded that it would be invidious of them to try him for his life. He is being returned.'

 

'To St John's?' Kit could not believe his ears.

 

'No, sir. Even Her Majesty's councillors recognize that there would be little prospect of acquiring an unbiased jury here in the Leewards. His trial is to be held in Barbados. Before a jury of Barbadian planters. Yet, sir, is Sir William Stapleton determined to mount as firm an assault as he may upon this vicious murderer. He is despatching a ship from Sandy Point, which will call at St John's to take on board all the witnesses to the deed that can be found. And at the top of the list, sir, must necessarily rest your name.'

 

 

IO

 

The Trial

 

'The devil,' Kit said. 'Barbados.' He gazed at Agrippa. 'They bear Philip no great love.'

 

'He is a planter, as are they,' Agrippa said.

'You'd not contemplate refusing the Governor's subpoena?' Frankland demanded. 'By God, sir, coming from that quarter it is a command.'

'Aye,' Kit said. 'Nor did it cross my mind to refuse it.'

'You'll go to Barbados?' Lilian asked softly.

'I must, sweetheart. Agrippa will remain with you, and see to your every requirement. Will you not, old friend?'

'Of course, Kit.'

'And you'll pledge my credit, where necessary,' Kit said.

'It is not that that concerns me,' Lilian protested. 'It is the time. A trial of this nature can take weeks, perhaps months, and then there is the journeying to and from that distant land, and the dangers attendant upon it ...'

'Sweetheart,' Kit cried, taking her shoulders to hold her against him. 'I have spent my life surviving the worst that these Caribbean waters can attempt. And can you not see, this must be done? I was informed, by no less a person than Marguerite, that Philip had powerful friends working for him in England. She was under the impression that he would, indeed, be subjected to nothing more than an inquiry, like Henry Morgan, and perhaps a month or two in the Tower, to make him aware of the King's displeasure, before being released and returned here, no doubt with a knighthood. But we also seem to have friends at court; if they will not try Philip there, at least they have not acquitted him. He is our responsibility now, and who knows, this may be a most important principle they concede. Yet must we carry the case to a proper conclusion. For should he be returned here, and the case against him go badly for lack of evidence, why, I had better have kept silent from the beginning.'

She gazed at him from those clear blue eyes. 'And suppose, despite all, he is acquitted?'

"That is not possible, madam, with the evidence Captain Hilton shall give,' Frankland said. 'He was there. He saw the deed. And it was his word pledged to the Caribs.'

'Yet will it still be my word against Philip's,' Kit said, frowning. 'We need Bale, at the least.'

Frankland nodded. 'The Governor is aware of that, sir, and the search is on. But that confounded pirate has disappeared.'

'He must be found, Mr Frankland. Make no mistake about that.'

'And he shall, sir. Believe me, have no fear on that score. Certain it is that he was last heard o
f in Jamaica, and our agents are
looking for him there. But come, sir, the frigate will already be entering St John's Harbour, as she left Sandy Point at the same time as your friend here and I took the sloop for Falmouth.'

'I will pack, and do you breakfast, Mr Frankland.' He ran upstairs, hastily threw his clothes into a satchel, put on his coat and hat. Lilian stood in the doorway and watched him.

'They will hate you for this, Kit. For evermore.'

'Would you have me remain, on that score?'

She hesitated, and then sighed. 'Yes. Yes, I would have you remain, on that score, Kit. I would have you do nothing more with your life than hold me in your arms, and love me, and keep the world at the length of your strong right arm. But I know that to do that, you must first of all love yourself. And men have strange ways of professing
that
love. So go to your duty. But come back soon, Kit. And come back safe. I possess nothing in this world, nor do I wish to possess anything, in this world, save your love.'

He kissed her on the mouth. 'Then be sure of it, now and always, sweetheart.' He went downstairs, where the horses waited, procured by Agrippa from the Falmouth stable, clasped his friend's hand. 'Will I like Barbados?'

'It is an island much like this one.'

'And the people?'

Agrippa shrugged. 'Perhaps you will enjoy them also, Kit, as your skin is white.'

 

'Aye. You'll watch over Lilian, old friend.' 'With my life, Kit.'

 

'1
did not doubt that.' He mounted and urged his horse out of the little yard, Frankland at his side. At the top of the rise which took them away from the beach he reined in, to look back, at the house, and the garden, and the beach, and the sea beyond, leading to St Kitts. Certainly he felt reluctant to leave such peaceful su
rroundings, such willing and un
demanding love. But he would have had to do so in the near future, in any event. His sadness, his uncertainty, was compounded by what lay ahead. So in that, like all men, he was something of a coward. He had no wish to face Philip Warner again, again attempt to send him to his doom, and this time with his voice rather than merely the written word. Six months ago it had all been white hot anger, and he would have throttled the man with his bare hands. But now he was to accuse him in cold blood and after sober reflection.

Yet it must be done, or the very foundations of these islands would crumble away in contempt. And when it was over, perhaps he could again return to Dominica. How he wanted to do that, once again to see Yarico, and hear that ageless voice, to kneel beside her hammock, and tell her how her son had been avenged. And then, perhaps, to ask her more of himself. To seek an explanation to the thoughts and fears which had risen up to torture him night after night since his return to Antigua.

But that, too, could not be answered, could not even be investigated, until this business was completed, else would his resolution seep away from his boots like the sand from the beach after a hurricane.

They rode in silence, and at a good pace. Frankland could see well enough that Kit wished to think, and he did not encroach, until they were close to St John's itself.

'Supposing the ship is already at anchor, Captain Hilton,' he said. 'The town will be filled with rumour. No doubt it is, already, as the news of Her Majesty's decision will have been carried on every vessel making for these waters. There may well be some hostility in the town.'

'Believe me, sir, I am well enough used to hostility, in the layabouts of Antigua,' Kit said.

'Still, I beg of you, Captain, let us make our way to the harbour without a riot, if that is possible.'

They entered the main street. By now it was early afternoon, as they had ridden since breakfast, and the shops and businesses were beginning to close. The townspeople stood on the sidewalks and stared at the two riders.

'Captain Hilton,' someone said, and it was taken up as a shout. 'Captain Hilton, Captain Hilton, Captain Hilton.'

' 'Tis hard to tell whether they hate you or love you,' Frankland said.

'I would not count on their love.' Kit kept his head straight, and looked at the street in front of him.

'Traitor,' someone yelled.

 

'Indian lover,' another voice took up the chant. 'Negro lover,' added another section.

 

Then the first missile flew. Kit did not move his head, and the stone hurtled through the air, to strike someone on the far side and bring a howl of pain and anger.

BOOK: HF - 03 - The Devil's Own
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