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Authors: Carola Dunn

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BOOK: Black Sheep's Daughter
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Her second brother spoke at the same time. "What exactly is your mission in Costa Rica, Sir Andrew?"

The Englishman sent a questioning look towards his host, who nodded.

"Nothing more dramatic than collecting information. I have been consulting with the leaders of the local populations throughout Central America, from Mexico south, to discover how serious is the general insurrection against Spain."

"Our people are changing their minds," broke in Oscar eagerly. "Since Fernando VII repudiated the 1812 constitution, even those who led our soldiers against the uprising in Nicaragua have decided to fight for freedom from Spain."

A lively political discussion ensued, in which Teresa bore her part admirably. She was thoroughly in favour of independence from Spain, and had no qualms about stating her opinions with vigour.

When the talk turned to hacienda business, Teresa asked Andrew to tell her about his adventures in North Africa. He insisted that nothing exciting had happened to him there, but she was fascinated by his descriptions of the ancient walled cities, the fierce, blue-faced Bedouin tribesmen who ranged the deserts on their camels, the veiled women and whirling dervishes and snake charmers.

A thoughtful look crossed her face when she heard about the snake charmers.

"I beg you will not try anything of the sort!" Andrew said in alarm, easily reading her expression. "No, I take that back. I absolutely forbid you to try, even with a harmless snake!"

She giggled, but said indignantly, "You cannot forbid me to do anything, sir. Still, I cannot imagine a viper, such as the one that nearly attacked you today, being enraptured by the sound of an ocarina."

He would have pressed her, but the maids came in to replace the empty dishes with pots of fragrant coffee and bowls of bananas, mangos, pineapples, papayas and melons. The bowls were beautifully carved out of an extraordinary purple wood; filled with colourful fruit they made an exotic display. When Sir Andrew admired them, Don Eduardo told him that one of his younger sons had made them.

"They're a talented lot, my family," he claimed with patriarchal pride, and proceeded to mete out tomorrow’s chores.

 Andrew realised that Don Eduardo made full use of all his offspring's talents. Much of the farm work was done by the family, though they did employ a dozen or so peons, both Indian and of Spanish descent.

"Should you like to see the farm tomorrow?" Teresa whispered. "If you can persuade Papa to let me show you around, then I shall be able to escape my own chores in the house."

"It is always a pleasure to come to the aid of a lady," he said with mock gallantry. "But yes, I should enjoy seeing the place. I cannot stay here long, for there will be a Navy vessel waiting for me off Puerto Limón at the beginning of next month, and your father tells me one must allow a week for the journey to the coast."

"How I wish I could travel like you!" she cried. "I have never been even so far as Limón, which is no distance at all. It takes a week to get there, and much longer with ox-carts, only because the road is so bad. And Don Eduardo says there is nothing there when you arrive. I should like to see London, and Paris, and the Atlas Mountains and the Sahara and the Bedouin. And the snake charmers," she added with a twinkle in her eye.

"Come to think of it," he said, "considering the way you have charmed your parrot, I daresay you would not have the least difficulty with a snake!  This coffee is delicious," he went on, sipping the aromatic brew. "I do believe it is the best I have ever tasted."

"Papa!  Sir Andrew thinks our coffee the best he has had!"

For the third time that evening, the diplomat found himself the cynosure of all eyes.

"Now that," said Don Eduardo, grinning, "is precisely what I wanted to hear. Though coffee growing is a new venture for us, Graylin, I am convinced that we produce the best in the world and that there will be a great future for it if we can but develop an export market. We need to learn more about the proper cultivation, too, for our yield is very low. I am thinking of sending Oscar to Jamaica to learn more about the business."

"I shall be sailing to Jamaica on my way to England," said Andrew, holding out his cup for more coffee. "Perhaps I might persuade the captain to allow Oscar to go with me."

Don Eduardo gazed at him with an arrested look. "That would be most helpful," he said slowly. "I must think about this."  He glanced at his wife, then at Teresa, then at one of the boys who had been sitting quietly, rarely joining in the conversation.

"Yes, I must think. We shall speak more of this tomorrow,  Graylin."

Shortly after this exchange, the household retired. Most of them would be up before dawn, ready to fit in a long morning of labour before the afternoon siesta.

The young Englishman was not sleepy but he had no wish to disrupt the routine of the house. He went up to the gallery outside his chamber, and leaned on the railing overlooking the courtyard, pondering the completion of his mission. He must start soon to write the report of the Cartago meeting, while the details were fresh in his mind. However, he could spare a day to tour the hacienda with Teresa. Though she would undoubtedly be condemned as "farouche" by London society, she was a pretty and amusing young woman and he had no doubt that he would enjoy his time with her.

It had been raining, and from the courtyard rose the fresh smell of damp earth, mingled with the overpoweringly sweet fragrance of some unknown jungle flower. Andrew breathed it in and was about to go to bed when he heard footsteps approaching along the gallery. In the near darkness nothing was visible but the pale blur of a white shirt-front.

For a moment he almost hoped it was the unconventional Miss Danville, looking for a romantic tryst beneath the tropic moon. Then he recognised the boy who had been so quiet at dinner. Marco, he thought his name was.

"Sir, would you mind if I asked you something?" the youth blurted out shyly. "Were you ever at a university?"

Andrew confessed to having read history at Oxford. He was hard-pressed to answer the flood of questions that followed. Marco wanted to know everything there was to know about university life.

At last he said passionately, "If only I could go there!  The new school in San José is supposed to be an alternative to universities abroad but it teaches only the rudiments of philosophy, and indeed most classes teach basic reading and writing!"

"How much schooling do you have?"

"I expect I should have to have a year or two of tutoring," Marco said in a humble voice. "Don Eduardo has bought me all the books he could lay his hands on, even though it is illegal to import them except from Spain. And I have had some help from the priests in Cartago."

"I fear Catholics are not allowed at Oxford and Cambridge, though many Emancipation bills have been presented in Parliament and perhaps one has passed since I left."

"Oh, I am not a Catholic. Papa would not permit Mama to have us baptised. It is one of the few things they ever argue about. Papa says he is still an Englishman and an Anglican though he has not set foot in England or in church for a quarter of a century, and as far as he is concerned we, as his children, are all honorary Englishmen and Anglicans. No, that is not a problem. The problem is getting to England in the first place."

Andrew looked at him. "If Oscar is to go with me to Jamaica..." he said slowly.

"You don't suppose you could persuade...?"

"I shall see what I can do," promised Andrew recklessly, then wondered why he felt he was letting himself in for far more than he realised.

 

Chapter 2

 

Teresa woke to a feeling of anticipation.

Why? she wondered sleepily. In all her twenty-three years, only her birthday in October and the August fiesta in Cartago, in honour of Nuestra Señora de los Angeles, had made her feel this way, but this was June. Besides, for the past few years even those great events had lost their attraction. Life was dull.

Then she remembered: the Englishman Papa had brought home with him. She was to spend the day showing him the hacienda.

Tossing the patchwork quilt around her shoulders against the morning chill, she went to the window. The sky had scarcely begun to pale in the east but it was clear, full of stars. The summit of Irazù loomed black against the deep blue, seeming near enough to touch. Her father had been to the top once, when he first  settled in the area, and her brothers had often talked of going up to see the crater, but somehow there were always too many other things to be done.

This was her opportunity, she thought in sudden excitement.

It would be much more interesting than looking at crops and livestock. Sir Andrew had not mentioned ever seeing the inside of a volcano on his travels, and if it was clear enough, according to Don Eduardo, they would be able to see both Atlantic and Pacific from the top. Perhaps the sight would wipe that censorious look off his face.

She scrambled into her riding skirt and snatched up a broad brimmed hat, then ran along the gallery to tap softly but insistently on his door.

"Señor!" she hissed at the window. "Wake up, please wake up."

"Miss Danville!" His sleepy face, fair hair tousled, appeared between the curtains. "What is it?"

"I want to take you up the volcano, and we must leave at once if we are to get there before the clouds gather."

"Huh?"

"I'll explain later. Get dressed while I go and make some coffee to wake you up properly. Don't be long!"

He joined her in the kitchen ten minutes later, still tousled. A cup of coffee roused him to the point where he began to think.

"Does your father know about this?" he asked suspiciously.

"I've left a note so they know where we are going," she said, impatient. Picking up a saddlebag full of food, she hurried him towards the stables.

Gayo greeted them vociferously, launching himself from his perch with a shriek of "Hello, hello, hello!"  Then he spotted his new friend and flapped across to Sir Andrew. "Dinner," he said in a friendly voice. "Hello, dinner."

"Oh dear," said Teresa, chuckling as she led out a pair of small but frisky horses. "Now he has associated you with that word he will never forget it. I think he had best stay behind today. Will you saddle the horses while I tie him?"

She hooked a tether to the parrot's leg ring, to his noisy disapproval, and made sure he had food and water.

The rest of the household was astir as they trotted round the side of the house, and as soon as they were clear Teresa led the way at a gallop. It was still cool, though the sun was just rising on their right. The muddy track--with the rainy season well under way, everything was muddy--ran between fields of crops among which Andrew recognised potatoes, maize, carrots, onions and bananas. A swell of ground topped by cacao trees hid them from the house, and Teresa slackened her headlong pace to a canter.

"There, that has shaken the fidgets out of them," she said with satisfaction as Sir Andrew reined in beside her.

He looked at her with misgiving.

"Miss Danville, I am sure that this expedition must be  frowned upon by your parents. Apart from any other consideration, it is not at all the thing for you to be without a chaperon. It would be highly improper in England, and I know that the Spanish have still stricter rules governing the behaviour of young ladies."

"We are not in England, nor in Spain," she answered, irritated. "Papa lets me ride about the hacienda on my own."

"But you mean to leave the hacienda, do you not, and besides, you are not on your own."

She laughed at him. "Are you warning me to beware of you, Sir Andrew?  You must know that I have brought two chaperons."

She drew a pistol, waved it at him and declaimed, "Sirrah, if you do not immediately cease your unwanted attentions, I shall put a bullet through your blackguardly heart!"

Recalling her brilliant shooting of the deadly snake, Sir Andrew suppressed his instinctive nervousness at the sight of the waving gun. Despite his disapproval, he was forced to smile. "A potent argument," he said drily.

"Do you not want to see the volcano?"

"Very much, but I do not care to be subjected to your father's reproaches for leading you astray."

"Papa will know very well that it was I who led you astray. Ah, I have the answer: I shall kidnap you at gunpoint and force you to accompany me. Will that ease your tender conscience?"

"I give way to superior force. You are incorrigible, ma'am!"

Teresa was not at all sure she liked being called incorrigible, but in view of her victory she decided to overlook it. As they cantered along, she pointed out the various crops and answered his questions as best she could.

The way grew steeper and the horses' gait dropped to a walk.

The field crops and fruit trees gave way to cattle pasture, which was in turn supplanted by rows of small coffee trees hung with clusters of green, yellow and red berries.

"Don Eduardo is planting more and more coffee," Teresa informed her companion. "When we win our independence, we shall be able to export our products all over the world instead of just to Spain, and he expects to make a fortune. Did you mean it when you said it is the best coffee you ever drank?"

"The Blue Mountains in Jamaica grow an excellent variety, but yours is as good if not better. I daresay Lord Edward will make his fortune. He seems to me to be doing very well already."  Sir Andrew was most impressed by the vast acreage cleared from the inhospitable jungle. "How did an English nobleman come to settle in such an out of the way corner of the world?"

"He did not tell you?  It is his favourite story. We were all brought up on it."

"Perhaps he did not want it told to a stranger. When I met him I quickly discovered that he was English, but it took all my diplomacy to elicit the information that he was the fourth son of the late Duke of Stafford."

"It was the Duke who forced him to leave England. Papa says he was a cold and unnatural father, who cared for nothing but appearances. Otherwise he will not talk of him. Papa fought a duel, you see, and killed a very important marquis whose wife was his mistress."

BOOK: Black Sheep's Daughter
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