Beauvallet Read online

  For the rest Sir Nicholas went junketting about the town, and by the way gleaned some useful information likely to interest not only Walsingham, but Sir Francis Drake, too, and not less the Lord Admiral, Howard of Effingham. There was a fleet building in Cadiz harbour; Sir Nicholas made copious mental notes of the size and strength of those tall galleons, and even toyed with the notion of travelling south to see for himself.

  His behaviour during this period provoked nervous qualms in Joshua Dimmock, who declared himself to be a meacock creature, and shivered from time to time. He had reason for his qualms, for he had good cause to know that never was Beauvallet so reckless as when he played with danger on every hand. ‘Master,’ said he, ‘is there never one who suspects?’

  ‘Ay, the French Ambassador,’ Sir Nicholas answered. ‘One of his satellites hath been set to question me – very cleverly, so he thought.’

  ‘God's me! this is to undo all! And you said, master?’

  ‘Oh, I gave him a bountiful answer, be sure,’ was all he could get from Sir Nicholas.

  On Monday evening Dominica was to be seen at the Alepere house, off the Calle Mayor. When Sir Nicholas could escape from the amiable clutches of her aunt, he made his way to her side, ousted an admiring caballero from his place of vantage there, and proceeded, to all appearances, to pay his court to her.

  Don Diego, watchful in the background, was swift to interpose his presence, but got little by that.

  ‘Ah, my bridal friend!’ said Sir Nicholas, very urbane. ‘You are come in a good hour, señor. Dona Beatrice is inquiring for you. You shall not let us keep you.’

  ‘My mother, señor?’ said Don Diego, glaring his disbelief.

  ‘Your mother, my dear friend. You are loth to leave us, I perceive, and I should be flattered but that I suspect the charms of this lady to be the true cause.’ He bowed to Dominica.

  ‘I cannot suppose, señor, that my mother's need of me is urgent,’ said Don Diego, colder still.

  ‘I am sure you underrate yourself,’ returned Sir Nicholas.

  Don Diego looked furious, but did not see how he might remain. ‘I am obliged to you, Chevalier,’ he said, mighty sarcastic. ‘I do not permit myself to forget that you are a visitor to Spain.’ There was a good deal of meaning to this. Dominica stirred uneasily, and shot a quick look up at Sir Nicholas.

  The mobile eyebrow was up; Sir Nicholas waited. Don Diego met his look for a moment, then bowed ceremoniously, and walked away. They understood one another well enough: what the tongues were not permitted to say, the eyes said fully.

  ‘Oh, folly!’ Dominica breathed. ‘Why anger him? To what purpose?’

  Sir Nicholas was watching Don Diego go across the room. ‘I am certain I shall not leave Spain until that paraquito and I have measured swords,’ he said thoughtfully.

  ‘Señor Nicholas, I do not think that I was ever afraid until I met you,’ Dominica said. ‘Why will you do these things?’

  He looked down at her. ‘What, afraid for me? Let be, child; there's no need.’

  ‘You run on your fate!’ she insisted. He laughed impeni-tently. ‘I had liefer do that than run from it, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘What news for me?’

  Her face clouded. ‘Not as we had hoped, Señor Nicholas. The King puts off his removal to Valladolid, and we wait upon him. My uncle is in attendance till then, you see. But I think I could contrive a little.’ She looked up inquiringly.

  His eyes were warm with amusement. ‘Let me hear your plot, little contriver.’

  ‘Then do not laugh at me – robber,’ she retaliated. ‘Don Miguel de Tobar is coming to town, and he is my uncle on my mother's side, and I am very sure that he would like me for his son Miguel.’ She nodded wisely, and compressed her lips.

  ‘How she is sought after!’ marvelled Sir Nicholas. ‘Surely it needs a robber to win her.’

  A dimple quivered. ‘Maybe, señor. Now I think it would not suit my good aunt to have me throw myself upon Don Miguel's protection, for he has influence with the King, and he might well get an injunction to have me away from the Carvalhos. I think, Señor Nicholas, that if I were to talk roundabout a little they would be very glad to bear me away to Vasconosa, out of reach of Don Miguel. And there marry me, doubtless, but you will be at hand.’

  ‘Be very sure of it. Weave your toils, fondling, but walk warily, for I misdoubt me that aunt of yours hath the seeing eye.’

  Her eyes sparkled with mockery. ‘A word out of your own mouth, Señor Pirate – trust me.’

  At his mother's side Don Diego learned with little surprise but considerable annoyance that she could not remember to have inquired for him. She seemed amused when she heard how he had been sent off. ‘The rogue!’ she said, and chuckled.

  ‘This cousin of mine who will not think of espousals!’ said Don Diego. ‘She is willing enough to have that French ruffler whisper honeywords in her ear. Mark you that!’

  ‘Of course she is,’ agreed Dona Beatrice. ‘I have no doubt he is very adroit. If you were more of his complexion, my son, you might make better speed with her.’

  Don Diego made what speed he could next day, when he offered Dominica his hand and his heart, and spoke his piece in passionate terms. She saw her opportunity in this, and was quick to seize on it. Don Diego was bidden take both hand and heart elsewhere; he pressed his suit more ardently, dared to attempt a kiss. She whisked herself out of his hold, flew into a royal rage, and flounced away to find her aunt.

  Dona Beatrice was confronted by Flaming Indignation in a charming form, and blinked at it.

  ‘Señora!’ broke out Dominica, panting over it. ‘I have to complain of my cousin! I thought you had understood me very well when I told you that I had no mind to wed with him, yet today I am to be teased, it seems, by his demanding of my hand, and more beside! Ah, more indeed!’ Her eyes flashed sparks, her tongue darted its rage. ‘Your son, señora, dares to lay hands on me! I am to be mauled like any kitchen-wench! I! I say it is not to be borne, señora, nor will I bear it. This is no way to go to work with me. You must learn, señora, and your son with you that I am not to be so entreated, no, not I! And if you will not learn, then my uncle of Tobar shall hear of it. What, am I – Rada y Sylva! – to have easy kisses thrust on me, hateful fondlings, unmannerly hugs? No, señora, no!’ Her cheeks flew storm signals; she had her hands clenched hard at her sides.

  Dona Beatrice put by the book of poems she had been reading, but continued to fan herself. She watched closely under her weary eyelids. ‘Well, you are in a great heat,’ she remarked. ‘But what is all this to the purpose? If you do not like Diego's kisses my advice to you is that you wed him with speed, for if he is at all my son he will very soon cease to want what he may have for the mere asking.’

  Real anger leaped up; my lady seemed to grow taller with it, a very goddess. ‘This is to insult me! Nasty talk, señora! Shameful talk! Well, my uncle is coming to town, as I hear, and in a good hour! Do you think, señora, that he will approve your plans for me? Do you think it indeed?’

  ‘I do not,’ said Dona Beatrice patiently. ‘I think he has some little plans of his own for you, my dear, but, believe me, they differ in only the one particular from mine, that he would change the name of your bridegroom.’

  ‘Señora, be assured of this, that any bridegroom were less distasteful to me than your son!’ said Dominica.

  ‘You have not seen young Miguel de Tobar,’ her aunt reminded her. ‘I concede you Diego is not a Chevalier de Guise, my dear, but he is far preferable to Miguel.’

  ‘The Chevalier de Guise!’ cried out Dominica hotly. ‘What is the Chevalier de Guise to me? You do not put me off, señora! I will have a plain answer from you: will you seek another bride for my cousin?’

  ‘I thought we understood one another better, my dear,’ complained Dona Beatrice. ‘Of course I shall not.’

  ‘Then my uncle shall hear of it, señora. You force me to it. If he thinks that I am content to serve the interest of Carvalho he shall