Her hands flew to her mouth.
'An' my particular friend, Nicholas Renzi.'
She bobbed a curtsy in return to Renzi's studied bow, but her eyes were on Kydd, wide and serious. 'Cecilia is out at the moment,' she said quietly, 'but if you are at leisure, you may wish to await her return?'
Kydd grinned widely. 'That's kind in you, er, Miss Jane,' he said. She flashed a smile, but it disappeared. quickly. They eased past the discouraging gaze of the housekeeper, and were ushered into the front parlour.
Kydd sat on the edge of a faded chintz chair. 'Ye must be happy f'r Cecilia, I believe,' he began.
Jane lowered her head for a moment, and when she spoke, it was controlled, formal. 'It were better she will tell you about it herself, Mr Kydd.'
He felt the first stirrings of alarm but suppressed them. 'An' I got word that you will be hearin' wedding bells y'rself, Miss Jane.'
She bit her lip and replied, 'For two months hence.' An awkward silence developed, and Kydd glanced at Renzi, who sat opposite. His expression had that frustratingly impenetrable quality, which Kydd knew concealed his understanding of a situation that he himself could not grasp.
Tea arrived, the china rattling on the tray. They sipped decorously, in their sea rig the little graces seeming incongruous. Kydd caught a furtive look from Jane, a look of frank curiosity, and he wondered what the girls had discussed concerning him. There was, however, something about the present situation that was not right.
A rattling at the front door had Jane recovering her poise. 'This is your sister, I believe,' she said brightly, and rose to her feet. 'Oh, Cecilia!' she called. 'You have guests, my dear.' Footsteps sounded along the passage, and the door opened.
Kydd advanced to meet her — and faltered to a stop. It was Cecilia, but the pale, drawn face, the black dress and veil? His smile faded. Uncertain how to continue, he hesitated.
'Thomas!' Cecilia seemed to wake, a small smile breaking through as she threw back the veil. 'How wonderful!' A little of the old spirit came through. 'My, you look so handsome in your sea costume!' Her eyes strayed to the livid bruise on his head, 'Oh!' she said faintly.
'Jus' a wound o' battle,' he said. She approached and hugged him with controlled passion, the wound on his back making him gasp. 'Cec — what is it?' he blurted out.
'Oh, I declare, I'll be late for my dancing lesson,' Jane said. 'Please excuse me, I must rush.'
Cecilia noticed Renzi, standing unmoving in the background. 'Oh, Nicholas,' she said warmly, 'how good to see you!' Renzi inclined his head, but stayed where he was. Impulsively, Cecilia crossed to him and embraced him as well. 'Nicholas, your complexion is like a Red Indian's, not the thing at all at home,' she said.
When Cecilia turned back to Kydd, her expression was rigid, brittle. 'It is only the ten days I have been here in Jamaica, Thomas, but . ..' Kydd pulled her towards him, and held her tight while sobs racked her. Neither noticed Renzi slip from the room.
'It's so — so unfair!' she wept. 'He was so happy to see me, and a week later he's in his grave!'
'Er, what. ..'
'On Wednesday he had dreadful pains and sickness, and by Sunday .. .' The tears were all the harder to bear for their brevity and harsh depths. 'I was with him until
'I'm so sorry f'r it, Cec, truly I am.' If it were the yellow fever, and she was involved in his nursing, then the end would have been unspeakably hard to bear.
Cecilia dabbed her eyes and looked away. There was now only the emptiness of destroyed hopes.
Kydd
