Within the hour, Farrell had returned from his call on the Admiral bearing deeply satisfying news.
Kydd considered his ticket. There was the choice of parting with it now, suitably discounted to a moneylender in town, or cash it for the full amount later when the prize agent could be cajoled into drawing on account. He would see what mysterious entertainment Renzi had in mind first: he hoped it would not be a curious pile of stones or the residence of some worthy poet.
'Tom, mate, yez has a letter.' Stirk handed over a folded and sealed packet. 'An' that's fivepence y' owes me fer the post, cully.' Kydd took it gingerly: the writing was small and well formed — a feminine hand. He frowned, then his expression cleared. This was from Cecilia, his sister. The date was only five weeks earlier, and with pleased anticipation he took it forward to open and read in privacy.
He broke the wafer; it was a single sheet, closely written. As usual she wasted no time and went straight to the point. Kydd's eyes widened — he read quickly and stared outwards. It seemed impossible.
He found Renzi searching in their sea-chest for a suitable kerchief: in his blue jacket with the white whalebone buttons he looked ready for the delights of Port Royal. The mess-deck was rapidly emptying for there was every incentive to get ashore to make this a time to remember: the Seaflowers were going on the ran-tan. Kydd waited until they were alone, and held up his paper. 'Ye'd never have guessed it, Nicholas, but here's a letter fr'm Cecilia!'
'I pray she is in good health,' Renzi said, perfectly in control.
Kydd grinned. 'Aye, she is that, m' friend. An', can you believe it? She is here in Kingston!' Renzi stood quite still. 'Ain't it prime?' Kydd laughed. 'Here, listen to this, 'My dear brother, I found how I might write a letter to you, and I have news that will make you stare! You may offer your felicitations, Thomas, for you see, I am to be wed.''
Kydd paused to see the effect on Renzi. His friend had always got along well with Cecilia, and Kydd knew he would be pleased. Oddly, Renzi stared back at him with unblinking eyes.
Shrugging, Kydd went on, ''Peter is a very amiable man, and he has the most wonderful prospects. I met him at one of Mrs Daryton's assemblies. Oh, yes, she wishes to be remembered to you, and of course dear Nicholas.
''But what I really want to tell you is that Peter is going to Jamaica to be under-manager of a sugar plantation. You've no idea how happy that makes me! It will only be a few years and we will set up our carriage, and a little time after that we will be rich, and I will look after Mama and Papa — but I am going too fast. I have to say that we have an understanding. Peter will return to Jamaica and next month I travel with Jane Rodpole (you remember, the one at school with the long hair and hopeless giggle). She goes to Jamaica for the same reason. We will take lodgings together until—'' Kydd broke off. 'So, y' sees, she must even now be in Kingston, Nicholas. We have t' find her, an' celebrate all together.'
Chapter 13
Kydd and Renzi's appearance — smart man-o'-war's men — attracted some curious looks in Kingston town. Sailors rarely left the more direct pleasures of Port Royal for the commercialism and bustle of Kingston, across the harbour from the Palisades.
It was not hard to find the newcomers: there were streets of hostelries providing rooms for merchants, travelling army wives and the like, and with rising excitement Kydd found himself outside one of these. The door was opened by a mistrustful housekeeper. Kydd shyly enquired about Miss Kydd. The woman agreed to see if she was in to two sailors, but firmly closed the door on them while she did so.
The door opened again: a young lady with laughing eyes, hair whirled in a tight bun in deference to the heat, looked at them both. 'Do I fin' m'self addressing Miss Jane?' Kydd enquired, holding his hat awkwardly in his hands.
'You do, sir. Might I ask . ..' She looked puzzled, but
'Thomas Kydd, Cecilia's brother.'
