Close to the Wind Page 10

  ‘It is nothing. We did this work all the time, before. How lovely you look, but now we need to do something with the hair. Come sit here in front of the mirror and I will try to make it look better.’ She picked up a brush and went to work on the wet locks. ‘It makes me want to cry to look at it. It was beautiful before, no? Thick and with such curls. How could you cut it?’

  Georgiana shrugged. ‘I was desperate at the time, so I just hacked it off as quickly as possible.’

  ‘So the story about your sick brother is true?’

  Their eyes met in the mirror. ‘Yes. I’m very worried about him.’

  ‘Harry told me some more last night after you left us. He wanted me to understand what sort of girl you are. But still, I wanted to see myself. You are as he described, I think.’

  ‘And how was that?’

  ‘Thoughtless – what was the word? Rash? Ah, yes, rash. Also naïve. Young and naïve. Too innocent for your own good.’

  ‘Oh.’ Harry’s description had a dampening effect on Georgiana’s spirits.

  Consuela looked at her and added, ‘But he was angry with you because he wants to protect you.’

  ‘I don’t need protection,’ said Georgiana, tipping her chin.

  Amused, the older woman regarded her. ‘You are very innocent,’ she said flatly, ‘to go among so many men in such a disguise.’ Her face grew curious. ‘What was it like to live like that?’

  Georgiana considered for a moment. ‘It felt strange to begin with,’ she admitted, ‘and I was frightened. But you know, after a day, I began to feel like a boy. There was so much to learn, so much work to do. Everything was new. I was just George.’

  ‘Even around Harry?’

  Georgiana looked up at the reflection of the older woman, but she seemed intent on the curls she was trying to coax into some order.

  ‘Mm, well, he was the captain,’ she said evasively.

  Consuela smiled. For a minute Georgiana watched the pretty, dark face above her own and then asked, ‘Have you known Harry long?’

  ‘Why yes, many years. No! Not like that. I see what you think on your face. We did business. He brought me wine for my customers. He was like a brother to my girls – not that they wanted him as a brother!’ She smiled. ‘Of course there were some women in Lisbon … Harry can charm any woman, but he never gives his heart. I have watched them try to win his love and never, never did they succeed.’

  Georgiana didn’t know if this information made her feel happier or not.

  ‘There were some that thought they might tame him,’ Consuela went on, ‘but though he would stay a bit, he always leaves in the end. Still,’ she added philosophically, ‘he always made sure they were left well.’

  Georgiana was surprised. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Harry looks after people. He does not stay, but he always provides. For one girl he found enough money to set her up in a shop making hats – now all the fine ladies in Lisbon go to her. Another swore she would love Harry forever, but he just said she could do much better and next thing she was marrying one of his crew!’ Consuela laughed. ‘They are very happy and their baby is named Harry after his godfather. Harry plays, but he never loses his heart and he always leaves. He is a good man – but a wild one.’

  Georgiana played with a hairpin. ‘Why doesn’t he give his heart, do you think?’

  Consuela shrugged and gave a grimace that on an English woman would have been ugly but on her it was charming. ‘A man cannot love until he knows himself. Or perhaps it is through love he learns of himself? Harry, he is like a tiger with his tail on fire, always running ahead, taking his past with him.’

  Georgiana was mystified. ‘What do you mean?’

  Consuela paused for a moment ‘Our past makes us what we are, who we are. We cannot change it. Me, I have left mine but still I know what I am, who I am. Harry is a man without history. Ask him about his past, he makes a joke or changes the subject. There are problems there – problems he will not face, I think.’

  She gave another couple of twists to the curls and said, satisfied, ‘There. It is finished and looks not bad, eh? If anyone asks, we say you cut it when you were sick. What do you think?’

  Georgiana looked at her reflection. Her hair was different of course from when she was in England, but still she felt a wave of revulsion for the young woman looking back at her. Just as the skirts hampered her movements, she could feel her life closing in again, pinching at her. Without thinking, she crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at her reflection.

  Consuela was shocked. ‘Why do you do that?’

  ‘I hate being a dull young lady – and people hated me when I was one. It was much more fun being a boy.’

  The vehemence with which she spoke surprised them both.

  Consuela looked thoughtful then said, ‘You must learn to like yourself as a woman, senhorita. That is what you are. You cannot hide in man’s clothes all your life.’ She smiled. ‘There are good things in being a woman – you will discover. You have played the boy, why not a woman? You do not have to be only a dull English girl, you know. There are other ways to be a woman – many exciting ways.’ Her eyes, full of mischief, met Georgiana’s in the mirror. Intrigued, Georgiana was going to ask more but Consuela was giving her curls a final twirl. ‘Now it is time for you to go down. Harry is waiting below to take you to see Funchal.’

  Georgiana leapt to her feet. ‘He’s been waiting all this time? You should have told me. I would have been quicker.’

  ‘Do not look worried. Now you are not George, you are Miss Miller. Yes, Harry thinks that Miller will cause less interest than da Silva. So you are Miss Miller, just arrived from England. Walk slowly. It does not hurt a man to wait for a lady, you know.’

  Her voice was soft but reproving. Georgiana couldn’t help smiling and she smoothed the dress down. It was ludicrous, of course, to think of herself as a lady worth waiting for, but perhaps Consuela was right. Perhaps she could treat it as a role – act the part as she had as a boy. Her thoughts must have shown in her face because Consuela nodded and said, ‘Remember, if you feel beautiful, so you will be. Go. I will follow in a minute.’

  Head held high in her best Consuela imitation, Georgiana went down the stairs. Harry was in the small parlour they’d been in the night before, reading a newspaper and, like Georgiana, he’d washed and wore clean clothes. His jaw was freshly shaven and his hair combed back into smooth waves. Georgiana paused in the doorway, suddenly shy, but he must have felt her presence and glanced up. She did not miss the look of surprised appreciation as he rose, but it disappeared almost immediately as he moved forward.

  ‘Miss Miller, you are recovered I trust.’ Alerted by his formal tone, Georgiana looked around the room and saw an old man tucked into a wing-backed chair near the window. Picking up her cue, she came forward in a swirl of skirts.

  ‘Fully recovered, thank you Captain Trent.’

  Consuela appeared in the doorway. ‘Senhorita, here is a parasol. You must take it for the sun is very strong in Madeira.’

  Georgiana took the flimsy umbrella. With this prop, her costume suddenly felt complete and she could feel herself grow into her new role. ‘Thank you, senhora,’ she said in her most gracious tones.

  ‘Would you care to explore the town a little?’ Harry asked.

  ‘That would be charming.’

  ‘Let’s go then,’ he said, smiling as he offered his arm. ‘Consuela, we will eat at Pedro’s.’

  Consuela nodded approvingly. ‘Muito bem! Have fun.’

  ‘My compliments,’ Harry murmured as he passed the small Portuguese woman, ‘the governess looks splendid.’

  Chapter Twelve

  Funchal was a delightful town. The sharp-edged relief of the thickly wooded, volcanic mountains provided a perfect backdrop to the small town clinging
to the lower slopes. The cobbled streets rose steep and narrow between quaint, flat-faced buildings with thick walls and bright shutters. Brilliantly coloured flowers hung from balconies and flights of steps, as well as framing doorways. Arm in arm, Georgiana and Harry strolled along the dockside of the port which, while small, was busy.

  Georgiana had to adjust her stride to a more feminine step and the thin line of lace at her neck tickled. However, she did get to hold Harry’s arm and though she knew it was only social convention, she was vividly aware of his sleeve under her fingers.

  ‘It’s all so beautiful,’ she couldn’t help exclaiming. It was head-spinning to think just a few weeks earlier she had been in England, preparing to be a bride, totally unaware this world even existed.

  Harry smiled down at her. ‘It’s one of my most favourite places in the world.’

  ‘Do you come here often, then?’

  ‘Been in and out of it for years.’

  His attention was caught by an old woman, sitting in her sun-filled doorway, making lace, and he raised his hand in greeting. ‘Maria,’ he called out. ‘Good morning.’ Then he said to Georgiana, ‘I must just have a few words with her. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course not.’

  They crossed the tiny cobbled street and after introductions, Harry and Maria chatted in Portuguese while Georgiana looked about her as she twirled her parasol, enchanted by the narrow streets, the donkeys, the warmth of the light breeze and the brilliant blue of the sea beyond. The chatter in Portuguese reminded her of the Spanish her father and grandmother used to speak, making her feel strangely at home in this sunny town. Then she was aware of the old woman’s eyes upon her and she said something, jerking her chin at Georgiana. Harry laughed.

  ‘What did she say?’ Georgiana smiled at the old woman but was wary.

  Harry shook his head. ‘I can’t tell you, it’ll go to your head.’

  Georgiana looked again at the old woman who waggled grizzled eyebrows and said something else. It was amazing how arch a wrinkled old woman with a hairy mole on her chin could look. Harry laughed again but this time his ears went red. Maria winked at Georgiana who couldn’t help laughing though she wasn’t sure at what.

  ‘Time to be going,’ Harry said very firmly and bid farewell to Maria, dropping a kiss on her weathered cheek. She clapped a hand to the spot and kept it there, smiling as they walked away.

  ‘What was all that about?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Georgiana threw him a sceptical look and he added with a shrug and forced laugh, ‘She’s the town matchmaker and said I’d done her out of her commission.’

  It took a second for Georgiana to understand, then it was her turn to blush. ‘Oh.’

  Her unruly heart whispered, If only.

  She was glad Harry immediately changed the subject, telling her about Madeira’s history and economy. He proved to be an informed and entertaining guide and Georgiana plied him with questions. She was impressed at how much he had picked up on his travels, his clear understanding of the more subtle aspects of the island. However, when the subject of Madeira had been well explored, she couldn’t resist turning her curiosity in new directions.

  ‘Where is Sally, now?’

  ‘In a tiny bay where no one will trouble her.’

  Harry looked young and carefree and Georgiana couldn’t help but notice the glances he drew from other women. The feeling was bittersweet; this most attractive man was with her. At the same time, she was reminded that he was only here because she had put him in an impossible situation, and he was far too much the gentleman to abandon her – yet.

  ‘You’re looking relaxed,’ she ventured.

  Harry looked startled, then smiled. ‘I suppose I am feeling happier now I know that for the moment Sally and the crew are safe. How’s your head today?’

  ‘Much better.’

  Georgiana realised he didn’t want to pursue the topic. ‘When did you first come here?’

  Harry pursed his lips. ‘Six or seven years ago. But it’s changed, even in that time. More visitors seem to come every year.’

  ‘Is that when you met Consuela?’

  He glanced down at her, but she kept her expression demure. ‘Consuela was in Lisbon when I first met her,’ he said cautiously.

  ‘And were you looking for a governess or a maid?’

  She squealed as he pinched the fingers that were lying in the crook of his arm.

  ‘George!’ He sounded shocked. Then severe. ‘And what, young lady, do you know of governesses and maids, anyway?’

  ‘Not a lot,’ she admitted, laughing. ‘But how can you sound so disapproving when it was you who introduced me to Consuela in the first place?’

  His grin was rueful. ‘I know, it’s appalling that I put you in such a position, I am truly sorry. It was the only thing I could think of, given the circumstances. It never occurred to me that Consuela would let slip to you.’

  ‘She was testing me, to see if I was – ah, how did you put it – young and naïve.’

  Harry either didn’t notice or chose to ignore the edge in her voice as he nodded. ‘I should have guessed she wouldn’t necessarily take my word for it. She is careful that no one pulls the wool over her eyes. I thought she’d trust me more, however.’

  ‘Oh, she’s clearly very fond of you. It was me, she wasn’t sure of. I suspect she was making sure I wasn’t somehow fooling you. She wanted to see if I was respectable.’

  Harry laughed and Georgiana’s heart skipped. This new, carefree Harry was even more irresistible.

  ‘That rings true. Consuela’s respectability is very important to her, especially in Madeira. She moved here a few years ago and people believe she is a widow.’

  ‘And she isn’t?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, she’s just being pragmatic as she has to explain her wealth somehow.’

  Harry hesitated and looked down at Georgiana as though unsure whether to continue.

  Georgiana peeped up at him from beneath her parasol. ‘You don’t know how to talk me, do you?’

  Her frankness made him smile. ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘Not a week ago I was bossing around a scruffy cabin boy. Seeing you now, kitted out in female rig—’ He shook his head. ‘I’m finding the transition unsettling to say the least.’

  That makes two of us, she thought.

  ‘Consuela said you used to supply wine to her.’

  ‘Consuela obviously said a lot. Women. But she must have liked you to say so much. Yes, I used to bring her wine. I like her – what’s more, I admire her.’

  ‘Why?’ Georgiana sought to understand the relationship.

  Harry paused. ‘I think it’s because she’s a survivor. You see, she came from a poor family and watched both her parents work themselves into early graves. She decided very early on she wasn’t going to do the same so she used her only assets – her beauty and her business sense. I admire her courage, her determination. However, I must apologise if you—’

  ‘No, don’t apologise. I like her. She has been nothing but kind. And you’re right, our own circumstances were … unusual. Besides, people are usually harsh in their judgment of circus folk too, you know, without really knowing anything. My mother caused a terrible scandal when she ran away with my father. If I’d become all missish with Consuela, then I would be behaving just like my aunt – a terrible thought! But what I don’t understand,’ she continued a bit shyly, ‘is why you wanted me to become Miss Miller. I was happy to continue being George.’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t.’

  She was surprised to hear the emphasis in his voice and stole a look up at his face. His expression was again hard to read, and she thought how adept he was at concealment. A tingle of warning went down her spine, but she disregarded it.

  ‘Was it really
that much of a problem?’

  ‘I told you before, a woman has no place on a ship.’

  ‘But I worked as well as any boy and you said yourself I was one of the best in the rigging.’

  ‘That’s not the issue.’ Harry sounded impatient. ‘It was your safety I was worried about.’

  ‘Oh but none of the men would have—’ she began to protest then broke off, remembering Mack.

  ‘And it’s ideas like that which prove just how naïve you are, George.’

  ‘Miss Miller!’

  ‘Miss Miller,’ he agreed, a smile dissolving his severity. ‘Now, would you care for something to eat? There is a particularly fine little restaurant near here.’

  ‘I’m famished,’ she said with the most unladylike emphasis.

  They sat outside under the shade of a large tree and chattered on a range of topics as delicious dishes were set before them. All constraint between them fell away and Georgiana was surprised to discover there was a freedom in being a woman again, in not having to keep her identity a secret any more. Harry too, seemed free for the time being from whatever demons had been haunting him. The pervasive holiday mood was enhanced by the sun and the perfume of flowers that scented the air.

  Towards the end of the meal, Harry leaned back in his chair. ‘Now George, you must tell me how it came to be that you were raised in a circus. It’s been a question I’ve wanted to ask for some time. It’s such an unlikely story.’

  ‘Why?’ She laughed at him. ‘Lots of children are.’

  He smiled into her eyes. For a second she felt quite faint and took a sip of wine.

  ‘Minx. You know I was referring to your undoubtedly good pedigree.’

  She wrinkled her nose as she leaned forward, one elbow on the table, her chin on her fist. ‘What a disagreeable thought. Just like a dog. But I am a mongrel then, I suppose. You’re right, my mother came from a good family, but my father was a child from the back streets of Madrid. My grandmother never spoke of who his father was but she joined the circus when he was a tiny child – she had the second sight, you see. She told fortunes.’