The Firebird

Anna focused her gaze on the masts of the merchants’ ships, just past his shoulders, and blinked at the brightness. ‘This friend of yours … is he entirely sure Captain Deane was the man to whom Mr O’Connor was speaking?’

‘He knew Deane himself, from before. Well, not knew him, exactly, but yes, he’s entirely sure.’

‘And why did he not say something earlier? Deane has been gone from this place for a month.’

Charles defended his friend. ‘He did not know that I was acquainted with Mr O’Connor. It was not until this past hour, when we dined at the tavern, and Mr O’Connor was there, that my friend told me what he’d observed. What he’d heard.’

Anna nodded, still watching the masts of the ships as they danced on the river, not wanting to think of the details of what Charles’s friend claimed he’d overheard in Trescott’s tavern, the day before Deane left St Petersburg: that Deane and Edmund had talked as though friends, and that Edmund had told Deane, without any prompting, that Captain Hay had come from King James’s court with instructions for Sir Harry Stirling to buy several ships here, supported by money from Spain and the Pope, and that Edmund was sure he’d have more information in time he could pass on to Deane.

Charles watched her. ‘Anna, I—’

‘Maybe your friend heard things wrongly, and misunderstood.’

‘Anna. Look at me.’ When she did, he told her, very soberly, ‘Deane tried to buy me, too. Trescott reminded him of the divisions between the vice admiral and my mother, and Deane approached me, to see if I’d spy for him.’

‘What did you tell him?’

‘I told him to go to the devil. But he was an active man, while he was here, and I know he found others more willing,’ Charles said. ‘Mr Trescott, for one. I am told he agreed to find probable men for Deane’s purpose and make introductions.’

She would not have thought Mr Trescott dishonest. ‘For payment?’

‘Not in money, but Deane promised him an English education for his son,’ Charles told her. ‘Even good men can be made to turn from their own conscience for a price.’

‘What was Mr O’Connor’s price?’ Even asking the question was painful.

‘I do not know. Faith, I’d have called him outside on the spot and discovered it, but I thought only of coming to find you, and tell you. My uncle should know.’

‘Yes.’ Her eyes stung again, and she blinked fiercely as Charles went on.

‘I did not think to find you so close,’ he said. ‘What business brings you across to the island?’

She had to think hard, to remember herself. ‘Mrs Lacy is large with her child and she finds it uncomfortable sitting so long. She desired an outing, and having not yet seen her husband’s new office she thought to come visit it.’ That seemed an age ago. ‘She’s with him now.’

‘Well, it was my good fortune you waited out here, else I might not have found you.’

She gave a distracted nod. ‘Yes, very fortunate.’

‘Are you all right?’

Anna nodded a second time.

Charles said, ‘And so you will tell him?’

‘Tell whom?’

‘Tell my uncle,’ he said, ‘about Mr O’Connor.’

She nodded again. Then she thought for a moment and asked, ‘Will you do something for me?’

‘Of course, if I’m able to.’

‘Will you wait here in my place? If the general’s wife comes, and I have not yet returned, please see she gets home safely.’

‘Anna …’

‘Charles, please. Please just do it. For me.’ And she gave him no choice but to do it by turning away from him, crossing the great square with blindly swift steps that by chance and pure providence steered her without any incident through the confusion of feet, skirts and carriage wheels.

She did not slow her pace till she had reached the tavern. Then she stopped and searched among the faces of the men who stood outside it for an honest one, and offered him a coin. ‘Sir, if you please, there is a man within to whom I must speak urgently.’

The man brought Edmund out to her.

He came out laughing, dark eyes gleaming just enough to tell her he’d been drinking, with his jacket wafting scents of whisky, wine, and pipe tobacco. When he saw her, though, the change in his expression let her see he was not altogether drunk.

‘What is it? What has happened?’ In concern, he took a step towards her. ‘Mistress Jamieson, what’s wrong? Is someone injured? Mrs Lacy, or the children?’

That his first thoughts should be for the general’s family made her instincts war more desperately against her reason, for it seemed impossible that such a man could do what she’d been told he’d done.

She shook her head. ‘They’re well. But I must speak to you.’

He looked around. ‘This hardly is the proper place to—’

‘Edmund, please.’ Her words came with more force than she’d have liked, but nonetheless they reached him, for he frowned and came the final steps towards her, reaching one hand out to guide her by the arm along the path that led towards the river’s edge.

‘What is it?’ he repeated.

She could not reply yet, only walk along with him in painful silence, as though with every step she trod on knives.

He brought her to the shore, where marsh reeds bent before the currents of the river, and the spindly trees leant out across the water, and small birds sang while all around them unseen insects buzzed and hummed like nature’s summer orchestra.