Sugar in the Morning (16 page)

I think I must have gone to sleep, because the next thing I knew they were parading around in front of the judges who were trying to decide which were the best-looking band. The Plantagenets, I decided, would have to get along without me. I could hardly believe that I would do much to enhance their effort when I compared it with the magnificence of some of the other bands. Take Aaron, for example, with the sun making the gold paint on his body shine as if it were the real thing. Who could compete with the gods?

But it was fun to watch. Every time I thought I might leave the crowded park for a while, another burst of colour and imagination would catch my fascinated eye and I would be riveted to the spot I had chosen,
eagerly taking in the details of yet another band, singing yet another calypso.

I heard the snap of a twig behind me, but I wasn’t curious enough to turn and see who it was. If I had,
I might have escaped, but nothing warned me that I was in any danger until I felt rough hands grasp my arms and legs and a velvet cloth was flung around my head to prevent my c
r
ying out or seeing where they were taking me. Not that it would have done me any good to cry out. There was too much noise all round me for anyone to have heard, and who would have paid any attention even if they had?

I struggled to escape, but they only held me tighter. Whoever my captives were, they were completely silent as they carried me through the park. I knew vaguely where we were going, for I could tell each time we left the open sunlight for the shade of a tree and back again. The trees were quite regular, so I presumed we were following the line of cannon-ball trees I had seen there earlier.

“You’re making a great mistake!” I said furiously, spitting out the velvet folds that had somehow got into my mouth.

“You’re a Plantagenet, aren’t you? A page? A female page?” a laughing voice retorted. I was silent for a minute as I wondered if I knew the voice, but I decided I did not.

“I’m a Plantagenet page,” I agreed after a while.
“Who are you?”

But they only laughed.

Up to that moment it hadn’t occurred to me to be afraid of them, but now the first stirrings of panic burgeoned within me.

“Where are we going?” I demanded.

“You’ll see soon enough!” the laughing voice told me. It was better educated than most, but I was almost
sure now that I had never heard it before. It was very like another voice I knew well, but it wasn’t the same, it hadn’t the range or the depth of feeling that Daniel could produce with his.

“But I want to know now!” I protested, struggling harder as their hands tightened around my wrists and
ankles.

“Ah,
but pages have to learn their manners
!”
the voice told me.

“I suppose you’re a monarch?” I said wearily.

“Not I! But I serve one,” he admitted.

My dull wits began to work again. I was sure that this had something to do with Daniel, though why he should go to so much trouble was beyond me.

“The one you serve, did he defeat my lot in battle?” I asked slyly.

But my captor only laughed. The men spoke amongst themselves, the soft lilt of the island lending a magic to the most obvious remark. I was heavier than they had expected, and taller too, for they had difficulty in holding me high enough so that I didn’t drag along the ground. Two of them wanted to take a rest, but their leader wouldn’t hear of it.

“Put her in the car,” he ordered.

“Put her in the back, man! Hurry along!”

The velvet cloth slipped from around my head and by shaking my, head I was able to get free of its suffocating texture and breathe freely once again. The back of the car was comfortable and I made no effort to sit up to see where we were going. I looked all round the car, though. It was a Mustang, like Daniel’s, and much the same colour, but I couldn’t be absolutely sure that it was the same car. All I knew was that it
could
have-been.

We travelled fast. I could feel the occasional hole in the road and any lingering doubts that I might have had that the driver was Daniel evaporated. Daniel was a better driver than this man—a much better driver. We hurtled on and then came to a sudden stop just as I was managing to struggle free of the velvet bag in which they had enveloped me. When I was free, I could see it had been hastily stitched together into a kind of sack, but that the stitches were already breaking open, which was why I had been able to catch a glimpse
of my surroundings.

With the stopping of the car, I almost fell from the seat, and it was only because I had managed to get my hands free that I was able to push myself back on. Even so, I was decidedly cross when I heard the driver jump out and hail whoever it was he had come to meet.

“Will you pay now or later?” he asked cheerfully.

Even though I couldn’t see his face I was aware of Daniel’s disapproval. How I knew it was Daniel I shall never know, but I was as certain as I was that the
driver was not Daniel.

“Have you hurt her?” he asked with some anxiety.

I took a deep breath of relief and struggled more urgently against my velvet bonds.

“Daniel!” I gasped.

H
e wrenched open the door and pulled me out beside him, throwing the velvet sack back into the car. His face was like thunder, though it softened visibly as his eyes met mine. “It was a misunderstanding,” he said.

“I know,” I responded. “You may be dressed as a Tudor, but scarcely as a King
!
”

His arms went about me and he hugged me tight, but I pulled away, for I was very aware of the curious eyes of my erstwhile captors. They watched critically while I tried to regain my composure and failed as I always did when Daniel was near.

“It was too easy!” the laughing leader exclaimed. “She was sitting under this tree waiting for us. We thought we’d show a Plantagenet what it means to refuse to carry a Tudor sword
!
”

Daniel gave him a playful cuff on his shoulder, but I could tell that he was far from angry. Indeed, I was beginning to preen myself with the idea that he had gone to so much trouble to have my society. If he hadn’t actually told them to do it, I reasoned, he had at least talked about it, and that amused me somehow for I would never have thought of Daniel as being guilty of such foolishness. He turned to me with a rueful smile.

“Are you hurt?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “Surprised,” I amended dryly.

I was able to take a good look at my captors now. Two of them were no more than boys who had come along for the joy-ride. It was the third man, the man with the laughing voice, who interested me more. He bore a superficial resemblance to Daniel, physically as well as in the tones of his voice. Perhaps they were related, I thought.

“I thought you’d be pleased!” he said rather sulkily to Daniel.

“Oh, I am
!”
Daniel assured him, suddenly gay. He unstrapped his sword and handed it to me. “Take this, page!”

I took it obediently. It was surprisingly heavy. I examined it to see if it was real or just a stage prop such as most people were wearing. It was real all right. A Spanish sword made in Toledo, a man’s sword that would take a strong wrist to wield it in battle.

“Is it yours?” I asked him.

He took it back from me. “It’s been in the family for a few years,” he answered. He bowed to me elegantly and offered me his arm. “Now that you’re here, would you care to come in and partake of some refreshment?”

I nearly curtsied in reply, but remembered just in time that I was not a girl at all in this pretty piece, but a young page learning his manners from the superior Tudors. “I should be delighted,” I said.

It was not his house exactly, he explained, as we walked up the short drive to the imposing building where they had brought me, it belonged to his whole
family
and they all lived there whenever any of them came to Port-of-Spain.

“Then he
is
related to you!” I exclaimed.

“In a distant kind of way,” he admitted. He smiled. “I’m sorry about this, Camilla,” he said.

I shrugged my shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. I was only frightened for a minute, but I knew somehow that you were at the back of it all—”

“Now that,” he said, “is a very interesting statement. Are you telling me that that made everything all right?”

I brushed down my clothes, more for something to do than because they were dusty. “I’m too big to panic, or to get in a fuss about nothing,” I muttered. “Don’t you think?”

The car started up behind us and I heard it retreating down the road, back to the Savannah and the centre of the Carnival, and we were left alone. Daniel sighed. “Another time I’ll tell you exactly what I think, but now isn’t the time,” he said regretfully.

I must have looked disappointed, for he took me urgently by the arm and shook me gently. “You will understand, Camilla, won’t you? Now isn’t the time, but it won’t always be like this!”

I swallowed. I didn’t understand at all. All I knew was that his touch was burning my flesh and that I had to be free of him or I’d do something foolish, something that I would probably regret for ever.

The front door of the house stood open and at that
moment a woman’s figure emerged from the shadows, coming forward to greet us.

“What a pretty scene,” said Pamela. “Why, if it were not Carnival time I should be quite jealous!”

Because I was a step lower than she, we could look each other directly in the eyes, but she had the advantage of me because I could barely control my surprise, almost shock at seeing her.

“I thought you hated Carnival!” I burst out.

“I know its dangers,” she said smoothly. “The nicest men get carried away and the—well, the most awkward women suddenly seem rather attractive in their pretty costumes, don’t you think?”

She smiled slowly, turned and swept into the house, leaving us to follow. In that moment I knew two things quite clearly: that I was in love with Daniel, completely and irrevocably; and that I hated Pamela Longuet!

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
he
house was large and the furnishings were beautiful, but I had eyes for none of it. I was astonished by the casual way Pamela assumed the duties of hostess and tried to fight down the knowledge that she must have been a frequent visitor indeed to be quite so much at home in the Hendrycks’ establishment.

“Darling, I thought you’d changed your mind about frolicking in the park this year?” she laughed at Daniel.

“I don’t share your dislike for Carnival,” he replied shortly.

Her eyes travelled to me. “So I see! How you love to retain the common touch!”

Daniel grunted. He looked far from pleased, but he said nothing. He poured us each a drink and then sat on the edge of a tapestry-covered sofa and glared down at his own drink, disliking us all very much.

Pamela looked at my costume with amusement. “Who made that for you?” she asked, affably enough.

I was very conscious that the silk tights drew attention to my long legs and I did my best to stow them away under the heavily ornate chair I had chosen to sit on. “The whole family are Plantagenets for the day,” I said meekly.

Her eyebrows shot upwards. “Oh, is that what you are? I could see it was something historical, but then Daniel looks quaint too, don’t you think?”

“I’m a Tudor,” Daniel barked out.

“And that’s different?” Pamela pressed him, her eyes alight with a malicious amusement. “I thought perhaps you were supposed to be part of the same set?”

“No.”

The bare negative seemed almost discourteous to me, so I rushed into speech to try and cover up Daniel’s remarkable lapse from good manners.

“We only met by chance—”

“And I suppose chance brought you here?” she suggested, suppressing a laugh.

“You might say that,” I agreed, wishing more than ever that I had been left in peace under the shade of my tree. “What brought you here?”

Pamela’s eyes narrowed. “Business,” she said nonchalan
tl
y. “Didn’t you know that that was why Daniel and I had come? I thought he might have told you. I had to sign on the dotted line on behalf of my parents—the sugar estate you’re buying from us—remember? I wouldn’t be here otherwise, I can assure you! I loathe Carnival time. The whole island goes quite mad! You can’t get any work out of anyone—”

“But do you try during Carnival?” I asked, astonished.

“Why not?” she said lazily. “The sugar still has to be cut, doesn’t it? Life has to go on, you know.”

“But it’s only a couple of days!”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s your sugar now, darling. That will be your worry in future
!”

“I see,” I said.

“Do you? Being an Ironside I wondered if you would. They’ll take off this year’s costumes tomorrow, when they’ve recovered enough to do so, and the next day they’ll all be talking about next year’s Carnival and what they will wear then, and how much it will cost, and how to collect the necessary money. And the sugar will still be there, waiting to be cut
!”

“You exaggerate,” Daniel told her flatly.

“I do?” Pamela exclaimed innocently. “But, honey, you wouldn’t know! You’re as bad as any of them!”

“I’m a Trinidadian
!”
he said fiercely.

“If you say so,” she smiled across at him.

Daniel stood up, hesitated as if he might say something further, but changed his mind. “I’ll bring the car round,” he said to me. “I expect you’ll be wanting to get back.”

Pamela waited until he had left the room and then leapt to her feet and crossed over to the chair just
beside mine.

“Camilla,” she whispered urgently, “is it true that you only met by chance?”

I was surprised. “Why, yes,” I said. “As a matter of fact some Tudors captured me and brought me along, otherwise I should still be down in the park.

“The Savannah? Oh, I wish you’d stayed there!”
she breathed.

“But why?” I asked.

She bit her lower lip. Whatever it was that she was going to tell me, it was obvious that she didn’t want to and that it was only the fact that
I had turned up at such an inopportune moment that was forcing her hand.

“You won’t breathe a word to a soul, will you?” she cautioned me. I shook my head. “Then I’ll have to confide in you,” she went on. “You see my parents are going straight back to the States. My mother wants to and my father always obliges her whenever he can. It’s easier that way,” she added with difficulty. I waited for her to go on speaking, but she lapsed into a lengthy, thoughtful silence and I began to be afraid that Daniel would come back before she had finished.

“Are you going too?” I encouraged her.

“No, that’s just it!” she said quickly. “I’m not going. I can’t bring myself to leave Daniel behind! It’s stupid of me, I know, but he
is
rather attractive, and there
’
re so many pretty girls about!”

But what will you do?” I asked, my mouth suddenly dry. “Where will you live?”

That’s what I thought I could tell you,” she said confidentially. “I imagine you’re quite broad-minded and not given to jumping to conclusions? And you already know that we’re more than friends, so it will eventually be quite all right, only he isn’t ready to get married quite yet. Well, I’ve decided to stay
here
!
Just for the time being. I’d prefer to stay down in the south to be really near him, but that isn’t really possible, so I
’
m just putting up with things the way they are!” She p
ut
on a brave expression and waited for me to congratulate her.

“You mean you’re living here?” I said baldly.

She coloured prettily. “More or less. You do understand, don’t you?”

I thought perhaps I did. Tears smarted at the backs of my eyes, but I refused even to consider my own emotions at that moment.

“I hope it all works out for you,” I said stiffly.

“It will,” she smiled with calm certainty. “It was unfortunate though that you had to know I’m here. I’m not
advertising
the fact because you know how people gossip. And there really isn’t anything wrong with the arrangement, is there?” She lifted large, innoce
n
t eyes and pouted slightly. With difficulty I refraine
d
from answering. I knew that if I said anything at all, I would say a great deal too much and that afte
r
wards I would be sorry. I had only my dignity left
an
d it had become disproportionately important to me.

“I think I hear Daniel with the car now,” I sai
d
in a funny, if steady voice. I held out my hand to h
e
r. “I hope it all works out for you,” I added politely. P
a
mela smiled briefly. She ignored my hand and offered ne a quick peck on the cheek instead. Judas! I th
o
ught viciously. But I forced myself to smile until I knew she
c
ouldn’t see me any more. I might have cried then, but there was still Daniel to contend with. I wished that anyone else could have driven me home. Perhaps I could ask him if I could drive myself? But I knew that he wouldn’t hear of such a thing. His Mustang was precious to him, more precious than I was. I sniffed and blew my nose in a hurry. I was quite proud of myself and the cool smile I managed to summon up from nowhere as I went out of the front door and got into the car.

“I thought the other Mustang was yours at first,” I said blankly.

“It’s a family car,” he told me. He shut the door on me and took his own seat behind the wheel and we swept down the drive so fast that the flowers blurred together in a haze of colour.

“Shall I take you back to the Savannah?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “I think I’ve had enough of the Carnival for one day,” I replied in a voice that was suddenly husky.

He looked concerned. The car slowed almost to a stop. “I’m sorry this happened,” he said slowly. “I’m truly sorry—”

“I know!” I broke in. “It—it really doesn’t matter! Forget it, Daniel. It was only a bit of fun!”

“It might have been,” he agreed, “in
other
circumstances
!
”