"I have been hearing the truth.”
"Will you not let me explain?”
"I have no wish for more explanation, Marcus. Please go away; I have this silver to clean.”
He sat on the table. He would work himself out of this, he would, Margery knew it. With most women he'd only have to kiss and say that whoever he had had only made him appreciate her the more, and she'd be weak as water. But not so Miss Carolan. Strong and proud, and ready to cut off her pretty nose to spite her lovely face.
"Listen to me please," he said, his voice sweet as honey.
"I prefer not to!" she answered, hers acid as vinegar.
"Esther!" he said.
"You will listen to me?”
She came from the sink, wiping her hands. Her delight in him set colour in her face, made it young and very sweet, and her glorious hair was wonderfully beautiful.
Esther said: "Oh, Carolan, you should never condemn unheard.”
"How wearying you are, Esther! You remember Flash Jane, the prostitute on board the convict ship? Here is the male counterpart. How shocked he looks! He need not be, need he, Esther? We have met many of his kind since we entered Newgate.”
"Carolan ..." said Esther, almost in tears. The silly little fool, thought Margery, didn't she see that her only hope was in estranging these two!
He was hurt and angry; he would not look at Carolan now.
He said to Esther: "You have some kindness in you, Esther. You are not the sort to condemn unheard. You cannot understand what I suffered when I was last in this country ... the agony, the torture. Things have not changed much; the lash has lost none of its sting; it is applied as heedlessly. Chains about one's limbs, while one works on the roads in the heat of the midsummer sun! Just enough food to keep a man alive! Misery! Torment! Solitary confinement! Until one has suffered it, how can one understand! To have undergone a second term such as the one I endured before would have finished me, physically and spiritually. Anything was preferable, Esther.”
"Of course," said Esther.
"I understand. I do. I do. If you repent now, all your sins will be forgiven.”
Carolan said: "He repents now; of course he repents! He has chosen the right moment for his repentance; he probably knew before he left England that he would repent at this precise moment.”
"Oh, please! Please!" said Esther.
"Stop quarrelling!”
"We are not quarrelling. We are not speaking to one another, so how can we quarrel? Why should I bother to tell him that he is despicable!”
Marcus said hotly: "And why should I tell her that she has no softness in her, no loving kindness, no understanding; only a set of stupid morals!”
Carolan laughed cruelly.
"Yes, Esther, of course I am very stupid; but not quite as stupid as some people might think. I am not deceived as easily as some might think to deceive me. Do you remember a certain late afternoon when we lay becalmed in the tropics, Esther, and they seemed to forget that we were convict beasts to be battened down under our hatches? They let us lie on deck. To be sure the sun was unbearable, but we thought ourselves lucky to get a breath of fresh air. Do you remember that, Esther? And do you remember how we talked to him, the two of us, and a dark-haired imperious lady had us ordered below? Do you know why, Esther? She was jealous. She was jealous because he was with us. She was coming out on the convict ship with him because she loved him so much. And when she arrived she saw that he was assigned to her as her servant, her very loving servant. I recognized her or I thought I did when I took coffee in to her and Mrs. Masterman. Now I know. Now it is all clear to me.”
Esther looked at Marcus.
"It is true, Esther," he said.
"Now she has told you what a rogue I am, will you turn from me ?”
"Very pathetic, is he not!" said Carolan, throwing the words over her shoulder.
A shadow darkened the window then. They all looked towards it at once, and saw a man standing there, a man in a mulberry coloured coat and riding breeches. He was grinning.
"Ah!" said Marcus.
"My friend, my master, Tom Blake." The corners of the man's mouth were like the horns of the crescent moon. His teeth were small and white; his eyes small and shrewd; his hair so curly and shiny that it looked grizzled. His age appeared to be somewhere in the early thirties.
"Tom," said Marcus, with a swift change of manner, 'meet my friends, Carolan Haredon, Esther March, and Mistress Margery Their guardian angel.”
Margery stood up eagerly. She wondered if he knew she had told; she supposed he might guess. There was no hint of reproach though in his eyes. Was he thinking Mistress Carolan was a virago not worth the pursuit? Was he noticing the loveliness born of love, in Esther's face? A man such as he was would have known many women; there would have been spirited beauties like Carolan before, like as not; but a modest violet, an innocent little blossom like Esther? They were rare enough! There was a lot of kick to be got out of despoiling the innocent. Didn't she know it! She had enjoyed her curate.
And now this new man ... His eyes went round the room. Carolan, Margery, Esther, and Carolan again! No, no! No man could ever want the modest violet when the rich red rose was his for the plucking.
"You're Marcus's friend!" She was throwing sweetness all over her anger, dampening it down, though it smouldered through the sweetness.
"He was telling us about you.”
"Well now!" said the man, and he could not take his eyes from her.
She was for all the world like a lady receiving her guests. The man was of lowly stock; he hadn't the breeding of Marcus. He was quivering with pleasure at the sight of her; he was wondering why her smiles were all for him.
"Margery," she said, just as though she were the mistress and Margery rather a favoured servant.
"Margery, couldn't we have a little celebration?”
It was queer how, if you were a servant by nature, and a lady or gentleman by nature, you slipped into your parts naturally enough, thought Margery. She wanted to say: "Here. This is Mr. Masterman's house, this is. You're only a servant... a convict at that! Who are you to give yourself airs!" But she didn't. She was reckless, and she didn't care if Mr. Masterman himself came in and found them and took her to task. She had to obey. She was sorry for her, anyway; she was sorry for having told her; because they were made for each other, and heaven knew there wasn't nearly enough loving in the world.
"All right then, but we mustn't make too much noise." The way of entry is a leap over the window-sill." said Carolan, and he leaped in.
"You are very hospitable," said Marcus, trying to catch her eye.
Carolan laughed, but she did not look at Marcus.
"If those above knew we entertained our friends, there would be some severe reprimands, I feel sure.”
Tom Blake said hesitatingly: "We wouldn't want to be making trouble for you.”
His voice had the tang of the Thames in it. Margery thought it was like a breath of fresh air from home.
"Trouble!" said Mistress Carolan.
"Who cares?”
That was her mood, reckless, angry and hurt.
Margery went to the cupboard and brought out a bottle of spirits. I never knew anything like this, she thought. Suppose someone was to come in Suppose Mr. Masterman himself... not that he comes to the kitchen ... but it might get to his ears. Convict entertaining convict!
They sat round the table. Marcus was talking to Esther, but it was easy to see he was thinking of Carolan. Carolan talked vivaciously to the newcomer; he was dazed. Margery could see he had never known anyone like her before. His experience of women would have been picked up in Thames-side taverns. His admiration was buoying the girl up while she swam away from the misery of loving Marcus. Margery joined in now and then, though she was content to watch them. It was as good as the play to sit here and watch them, and to know that she was the master-hand behind it all; she had jerked these people into action; in a measure she controlled their movements; it was balm to wounded vanity. Watching, laughing secretly, she forgot that James was missing a night now and then, that his love' making was getting more casual than urgent.