The night was long and restless. Even with Dona Beatriz’s bedroom door firmly bolted, we both sat up at each small noise. Candelária and I shared layers of feather-filled comforters on the thick carpet, and Leandro slept under a heavy satin cover beside his mother on the large and elegant bed. A golden rosary was draped on the headboard, and Dona Beatriz’s embroidered silk slippers sat on the step that assisted in climbing onto the tall bed.
With weary relief, I watched the first weak light come through the long windows, festooned with curtains of crimson damask trimmed with rich lace. As I rose on one elbow, Candelária stirred, and Dona Beatriz roused Leandro.
When we all went downstairs, Samuel told us that Abílio had driven off earlier with two carriages piled with cases, and Dona Beatriz closed her eyes for a moment. She had Neves take the children to give them breakfast.
“Thank God he left without any more threats,” she said to me when they were gone. “But you won’t leave me yet, will you, Diamantina? I’d like you here when I face Plácido Lajes. And knowing Abílio may return at any time and try to take Leandro … I don’t know how we’ll stop him if he does, but …”
“I’ll stay with you,” I told her.
“My life …” she said, looking to one side. “I thought about it all night. Today it feels … as though it’s over, in a way. I will never allow Abílio back into my life, but I will be tied to him forever. Married but alone. I will be alone for the rest of my life, save Leandro, if I can protect him from being taken.”
Was my situation not exactly the same? But it was not my time to speak of this.
The smell of the foliage outside the open windows wafted in, reminding me of the scents of the flowers surrounding the summer house. “There are things we can’t know with complete certainty. There is sometimes the unexpected,” I said.
Two days later, when the afternoon shadows were deepening across the garden, I sat with Neves and watched Candelária and Leandro play while Dona Beatriz rested in her room. Cristiano sat in a patch of sunshine and read.
I heard the ringing of the bell at the entrance, and went back into the house. Samuel was admitting Senhor Plácido Fernandez Lajes.
“Please ask Dona Beatriz to come downstairs. Tell her Senhor Lajes has arrived,” I told Samuel.
As he left, Senhor Lajes looked at me in surprise. “You came to my house, the night before the earthquake,” he stated. He had a deep, raw gash on one cheek, and his hands were wrapped in gauze.
“Yes. I told you I was a friend to Dona Beatriz.”
“I now own this house, and I came to view it as soon as I could get away from Lisboa.”
I nodded. “You were hurt in the earthquake?” I asked, gesturing at his bandaged hands.
“As many able-bodied men as possible were called upon to help find bodies and …” He stopped. “My injuries are from digging through the burning rubble. There’s no telling how many are still buried beneath the ruins. And the looting has become rampant.” I remembered the grisly grave robbers I’d passed. “The Marquês de Pombal has erected gallows, and is having looters hung as a deterrent to others.”
“And those who survived?” I asked.
“They’re carrying on with great difficulty. But every day more is being done. The Marquês de Pombal is very capable, and has already done so much to organize the city to assist the destitute and the injured. King José is lucky to have him as his Secretary of the Kingdom.”
“So little news comes to us. What of the rest of Portugal?”
“Much of the western coast was damaged, and south, along the Algarve, the coastal towns and villages were flooded. The earthquake didn’t affect only Portugal—it was felt across many countries. Parts of Spain and North Africa saw thousands dead.”
“What of Madeira?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer.
“I’ve heard there was some damage from the shocks in villages closest to the ocean, and a bit of trouble in Funchal Town from high water, but on the whole it survived well. I’m relieved to know that Kipling’s wasn’t affected.”
He looked over my shoulder, and I turned to see Dona Beatriz coming towards us. She held the scroll I remembered.
As she stopped beside me, I said, “Senhor Lajes. Allow me to introduce Dona Beatriz Duarte Kipling Perez.”
Senhor Lajes half smiled at me, then at Dona Beatriz, as if he imagined himself the victim of a hoax. Then he stopped smiling and looked back at me.
“She is Abílio Perez’s wife,” I told him. “The woman you met was not.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Please, Senhor Lajes,” Dona Beatriz said, “let us go to the salon.”
Once there, she extended her hand towards a settee. “I’m afraid I have bad news about Abílio. Sit, please. May I offer you something to drink?”
He shook his head. “No, thank you. I saw Abílio in Lisboa only a few days ago. He’s been hurt since then?”
“Abílio is not injured. It’s about your business transaction with him. As I said, please have a seat, Senhor Lajes.”
He sat on the settee, and she sat across from him. I stood behind her. “This is the official deed to all of the Kipling holdings,” she said, holding out the scroll. “It is signed and dated by my father, Martyn Kipling, and authenticated by the legal counsel in Funchal. Abílio had no lawful right to sell anything. I’m afraid, Senhor Lajes, that my husband has played you for a fool.”
The only sounds were the children’s voices from the garden. Senhor Lajes’s face first paled and then flushed. He took the scroll and unrolled it and read. When he had finished, he sat with the paper held loosely in one hand, and looked at her.
“The documents Abílio had you sign were forged, by him and by the woman he called his wife. The wine lodge and quinta and this house are still mine. Of course, you will wish to consult legal counsel. I’ll be happy to be available for any discussion, and bring my own advisers as well.”
Apart from the clenching of his jaw, Plácido Lajes hadn’t stirred from the time he’d started to read the deed. Now he gave a small nod.
“Abílio came here a few days ago,” Dona Beatriz said. “I told him about the deed—he was unaware of its existence—and I don’t know whether he believed me or not. I refused to let him see it for fear he would destroy it. He informed me he was going to Oporto with his mistress, who is the woman you thought to be me. At least, that’s where he originally intended to go. But he may stay in hiding for a while, fearing that I spoke the truth about the deed. I don’t imagine he would want to face you.” She put both hands on her cheeks to stop the twitching.
Senhor Lajes stood and handed the deed back to Beatriz. His chest rose and fell, and the flush had grown darker, extending down his neck. “If you think Abílio Perez will not be found, you are wrong. I have a great deal of power and influence, and have many men working for me. He will be found, and he will pay back what he’s stolen from me. And more. His life may not be worth living when I’m done with him.”
“It appears Senhor Lajes has accepted the truth,” Dona Beatriz said once we were alone in the salon again. “Legal counsel will confirm the authenticity of the deed. I feel he will not fight me on anything. His fight will be with Abílio.”
“I agree.”
“And so all will be as before. I expect you to continue at Kipling’s, and to live at the cottage.”
“Even though I didn’t do as you asked?”
She took a deep breath. “You were right to act as you did. The past is the past. I wish both our lives to move forward, and will deal with Abílio if and when I am forced to. I’ll keep Leandro safe. And I don’t believe Abílio is interested in Candelária. It was just a bluff.”
I nodded.
“So you will continue to work with Espirito at the adega?” she asked.
“Espirito has left.”
“He left? When?”
“Close to two months ago. Because Henry thought Kipling’s sold, he hired Espirito to— Oh, there’s so much you don’t know yet, Dona Beatriz.”
She shook her head. “Everything is in disarray. Espirito or Henry may have written while I was in Estoril, but I hadn’t had a chance to attend to the months of correspondence here before the earthquake. I’m worried about Henry. You said you saw him in Lisboa the night before the earthquake. I can only hope …”
“I know,” I said. “Soon we will be able to go into Lisboa and make inquiries.”
We sat in silence for a few moments.
“If Espirito is gone, then you must take on the role of overseer at Kipling’s,” she said, “and hire on whoever you like to assist.”
I sat straighter. “You would give me this responsibility?”
She tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t I believe you could do it? I would do it myself if I felt more adept in the intricacies of winemaking. I think my father had long hoped I would one day step in to run the operation. And maybe I would have, had I not married. How different everything might have been if Abílio Perez hadn’t come into my life.”
“Or mine,” I said, and we looked at each other, but then Leandro ran into the salon chasing Candelária, their playful shrieks filling the room.
“Yes. How different our lives might have been,” Dona Beatriz said, and now we smiled as we watched our children. Neves followed, shushing them and trying to shoo them back outside.
“They can play here, Neves,” Dona Beatriz said, and Neves nodded and stood by the door, her hands folded in front of her.
“Don’t look, Mama,” Leandro said, and Candelária echoed, “Yes, Mama, don’t look. We’re going to hide.”
Dona Beatriz and I dutifully covered our eyes with our hands. There was rustling from the curtains, and tiny whispers and giggles.
“Look now!” Leandro called, and Dona Beatriz and I rose and exclaimed loudly as we searched the room for them.
Candelária’s voice rose from behind a long, heavy satin curtain. “No! It’s mine!” she shouted, and then scrambled out, swishing the curtain angrily.
I went to her. “Candelária, we are guests here. You must behave.”
“I should have it,” she insisted. “It’s my papa’s, not his.” Leandro hid something in his hands.
“May I see what you have, Leandro?” I asked as Dona Beatriz came over to us.
“I found it,” he said, “so I should keep it.” He opened his hands. Bonifacio’s heavy pendant with a cross, bearing the sign of the Jesuit, lay on his palms.
“Papa wore it on the ship,” Candelária said.
“He must have left it here,” Dona Beatriz said.
I took it from Leandro’s hand. “The leather thong is ripped. I suppose it could have dropped without him noticing.”
Samuel entered and announced dinner. “Samuel—” I said, turning to him, dangling the emblem from my fingers, but stopped as his skin turned ashy.
He backed away, shaking his head. Neves stepped up to him and put her hand on his arm.
“What’s wrong? What is it, Samuel?” Dona Beatriz asked.
“It’s Father Bonifacio’s. But I didn’t see it,” he said. “I didn’t see it.”
“What do you mean, Samuel?” she said, a little more sharply.
“Samuel,” Neves said under her breath.
“Neves, take the children to the nursery and bathe them before dinner,” Dona Beatriz said.
Neves looked at Samuel, concern on her face.
“Neves? Please take the children as I’ve asked,” Dona Beatriz said.
“Leandro won’t get to keep it, will he?” Candelária asked.
“That’s enough, Candelária,” I told her. “Go with Neves.”
Once Neves and the children left, Dona Beatriz said, “Sit down, Samuel. You look ill.”
The elderly man lowered himself onto the chair. “I knew it would be discovered. A sin such as this can never be hidden,” he said, crossing himself.
“Tell us what happened,” Dona Beatriz demanded.