Page 142 of The Seven Sisters

If Gustavo wanted proof of his wife’s guilt, it was there in the terror that showed on her maid’s face as she stared at him.

‘I . . .’

‘Yes?’ Gustavo crossed his arms and waited for her reply.

‘I . . .’

Then he noticed that one of her hands was held protectively over the pocket of her apron. From the shape of it, it looked like it contained an envelope.

‘Perhaps you are delivering something for your mistress?’

‘Senhor, I thought this was the entrance to the pharmacy. I . . . have got the wrong address. Forgive me . . .’

‘Really? You have a prescription to collect for my wife?’

‘Yes.’ There was a sudden look of relief in her eyes that he’d managed to find an explanation for her. ‘It must be further along the street.’

‘As a matter of fact, I know exactly where it is. So, why don’t you hand it over to me and I will deliver it to the pharmacist myself?’

‘Senhor, Senhora Bel made me swear I would deliver this . . . prescription to the pharmacy with my own hands.’

‘And as I’m her husband, I’m sure she would feel it was safe inmine, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ The maid lowered her eyes in resignation. ‘Of course.’

Gustavo put out his palm and Loen pulled the envelope out of her pocket, her eyes agonised and pleading as he took it from her.

‘Thank you,’ he said, tucking it into the top pocket of his jacket. ‘I promise you I will deliver it safely to the correct recipient. Now, run along back to your mistress, who is surely wondering where you have got to.’

‘Senhor, please . . .’

Gustavo’s palm halted any further remonstrations. ‘Senhorita, unless you want to be thrown out onto the street without a reference the moment I arrive home, I suggest you do not discuss this meeting with my wife. No matter how loyal you are to her, it is I who decides who we employ to serve our household. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes, senhor, I do,’ the maid answered, her voice quavering and her eyes full of tears.

‘Now, I suggest you run along back to Madame Duchaine’s and collect the necessary medicine from the pharmacy, which I believe is only a few doors down from the salon, to sustain your alibi.’

‘Yes, senhor.’

Loen dropped a shaky curtsey, and turned away from him to walk back the way she had come.

Immediately, Gustavo hailed a passing cab. Knowing that whatever this envelope contained he would need a strong whisky to enable him to open it, he directed the driver towards his club.

*

Loen had hidden herself round the corner, due to the fact her legs would carry her no further as they were shaking like saplings in a hurricane. She was slumped in a doorway when she saw Gustavo pass right by her in the back of a cab.

Burying her head between her legs and taking some deep breaths, Loen tried to clear her mind of the shock at what had just taken place. Even though she couldn’t know for sure what the envelope contained, she could imagine only too well. She had no idea what she should do and only wished Bruno was with her to advise her now.

She too had her own problems presently – which she’d felt unable to speak of to her mistress, who had been so grief-stricken by her mother’s death, and then the realisation that she was with child.

The truth was that Senhora Bel was not the only female living at the Casa in a similar predicament. She herself had known that she was carrying a child for the past three weeks. She’d told Bruno just before she’d left thefazendaand he had made her promise that she would speak to Bel. She’d been intending to beg her mistress to let her work permanently at the farm so the two of them could marry and raise their child there.

Loen had no idea who owned thefazenda, but she had an inkling that normally a man inherited his wife’s assets on marriage. If this was the case, Gustavo had it in his power to ensure that neither she nor Bruno ever worked for the family again. Which meant any plans they had for the future would be turned to dust. They would be just another impoverished black couple, turned out on the streets, with her pregnant and penniless, headed for thefavelasthat were expanding daily with their starving inmates.

All this would happen . . .ifshe told her mistress what had just taken place.

As her breathing began to slow and Loen began to think more clearly, her fingers touched the unfamiliar outline of the life that was growing inside her. Just like Bel, she too had a decision to make. And quickly. The master had asked her to stay silent – in essence, to betray the trust her mistress had always placed in her. In any other circumstances, she would not have adhered to his wishes, whatever the cost. She would have run straight back to Madame Duchaine’s, then asked Senhora Bel to take a short walk as she informed her of what had happened so that her mistress could prepare for what she might face when she returned home.