Read Online Marianna by Nancy Buckingham - Free Book Online
Authors: Nancy Buckingham
Tags: Historical Romantic Saga
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she wondered wretchedly. And if so, did he now hate and despise her for it?
Before they reached Funchal, Marianna came to a decision that was a moderate sop to her conscience. She would make a special appeal to her father, implore him to show the utmost clemency towards the girl Tereza, as a gesture to celebrate her wedding. More than that she could not bring herself to do, dared not do. To confess her shameful secret was quite unthinkable.
The SS Apollo bringing her bridegroom was due to arrive within the next twelve hours or so, depending on the weather at sea, and the nuptials were planned for the following day at noon. Fortunately, Mr Penfold had put arrangements in hand for the reception to be held at the British Consulate. The house in Rua das Murças in its present neglected state could never have been made ready to receive the guests, nor could a suitable repast have been provided. Nevertheless, a wedding was an excuse for revelry and a general air of merriment prevailed among the servants; all the morning Marianna had heard Linguareira loudly berating them for a lot of lazy, drunken, good-for-nothings. At which, she knew, they would laugh behind their hands and mimic her with cruel accuracy the moment her back was turned.
After a good, solid luncheon of pork and walnut pudding, Linguareira settled in her favourite basket chair, gave a heavy sigh of relief and promptly fell asleep. Soon she was snoring steadily. Almost as if he had been waiting for this signal, Codface sidled into the small parlour and beckoned to Marianna.
‘You’ve got a visitor,’ he told her in a hoarse whisper.
‘A visitor? Who is it?’
‘You’ll find out who it is, little menina.’
Wondering, she followed the man as he lurched down the stairs to the gloomy, cavernous kitchen. There, with the servants crowded round him in a circle, giggling and taunting him, stood Jacinto.
‘Here is Clever One come to see you, menina. Your pupil wants to bid his teacher farewell.’
Marianna felt a great leap of joy at seeing him, but Jacinto’s bony face was set in a hard expression. He looked as if he wished himself anywhere but there.
‘What is it?’ she asked, crossing to him swiftly. ‘Is something wrong, Jacinto?’
He shook his head, his lower lip caught between his teeth. ‘I carried down the vegetables and fruit today. I begged Pai to let me be the one to bring them, so that I could see you.’
‘You’d better come outside,’ she said, after a moment’s hesitation.
She led the way down to the courtyard, then turned through a dim archway into the wine lodge. There was nowhere in the house itself where she could properly take Jacinto, but surely they could find a quiet corner here where they could talk undisturbed for a few minutes? Her father, Marianna knew, would be safely out of the way. After a brief appearance at his office each morning it was his custom to adjourn to the rooms of the Commercial Association to meet his friends, and he was not usually seen again until late in the afternoon. She took Jacinto across one of the great vaulted chambers, through another arch, and down between two lines of wine butts stacked in tiers — alas mostly empty now. The few workmen in their long white blouses moved around silently, hardly sparing them a glance.
Marianna halted by an open doorway that gave access to a small patch of garden with a bright sprawling mass of geraniums and a lemon tree growing in the centre. Turning to face Jacinto, she saw a look of sadness in his dark eyes which touched her heart,
‘You came to say goodbye to me, after all?’ she said softly.
Jacinto nodded, then glanced away and stared down at the stone floor. His hand went nervously to the arrow-shaped scar on his right temple. He was wearing his goatskin boots, Marianna noticed, and his white cotton trousers and shirt were clean and neatly patched — not the ragged ones he habitually wore for his daily work around the fazenda.
From out of his
Before they reached Funchal, Marianna came to a decision that was a moderate sop to her conscience. She would make a special appeal to her father, implore him to show the utmost clemency towards the girl Tereza, as a gesture to celebrate her wedding. More than that she could not bring herself to do, dared not do. To confess her shameful secret was quite unthinkable.
The SS Apollo bringing her bridegroom was due to arrive within the next twelve hours or so, depending on the weather at sea, and the nuptials were planned for the following day at noon. Fortunately, Mr Penfold had put arrangements in hand for the reception to be held at the British Consulate. The house in Rua das Murças in its present neglected state could never have been made ready to receive the guests, nor could a suitable repast have been provided. Nevertheless, a wedding was an excuse for revelry and a general air of merriment prevailed among the servants; all the morning Marianna had heard Linguareira loudly berating them for a lot of lazy, drunken, good-for-nothings. At which, she knew, they would laugh behind their hands and mimic her with cruel accuracy the moment her back was turned.
After a good, solid luncheon of pork and walnut pudding, Linguareira settled in her favourite basket chair, gave a heavy sigh of relief and promptly fell asleep. Soon she was snoring steadily. Almost as if he had been waiting for this signal, Codface sidled into the small parlour and beckoned to Marianna.
‘You’ve got a visitor,’ he told her in a hoarse whisper.
‘A visitor? Who is it?’
‘You’ll find out who it is, little menina.’
Wondering, she followed the man as he lurched down the stairs to the gloomy, cavernous kitchen. There, with the servants crowded round him in a circle, giggling and taunting him, stood Jacinto.
‘Here is Clever One come to see you, menina. Your pupil wants to bid his teacher farewell.’
Marianna felt a great leap of joy at seeing him, but Jacinto’s bony face was set in a hard expression. He looked as if he wished himself anywhere but there.
‘What is it?’ she asked, crossing to him swiftly. ‘Is something wrong, Jacinto?’
He shook his head, his lower lip caught between his teeth. ‘I carried down the vegetables and fruit today. I begged Pai to let me be the one to bring them, so that I could see you.’
‘You’d better come outside,’ she said, after a moment’s hesitation.
She led the way down to the courtyard, then turned through a dim archway into the wine lodge. There was nowhere in the house itself where she could properly take Jacinto, but surely they could find a quiet corner here where they could talk undisturbed for a few minutes? Her father, Marianna knew, would be safely out of the way. After a brief appearance at his office each morning it was his custom to adjourn to the rooms of the Commercial Association to meet his friends, and he was not usually seen again until late in the afternoon. She took Jacinto across one of the great vaulted chambers, through another arch, and down between two lines of wine butts stacked in tiers — alas mostly empty now. The few workmen in their long white blouses moved around silently, hardly sparing them a glance.
Marianna halted by an open doorway that gave access to a small patch of garden with a bright sprawling mass of geraniums and a lemon tree growing in the centre. Turning to face Jacinto, she saw a look of sadness in his dark eyes which touched her heart,
‘You came to say goodbye to me, after all?’ she said softly.
Jacinto nodded, then glanced away and stared down at the stone floor. His hand went nervously to the arrow-shaped scar on his right temple. He was wearing his goatskin boots, Marianna noticed, and his white cotton trousers and shirt were clean and neatly patched — not the ragged ones he habitually wore for his daily work around the fazenda.
From out of his
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