“Damask has taken a fancy to you,” said my mother.
“And I to Damask. What an unusual name. You have original names in this family.”
My mother looked pleased. She did not see that he was sneering.
“Damask is named after her grandmother. She was born the year Dr. Linacre brought the damask rose to England.”
“And Linnet?” he said, smiling blandly at me.
“We thought she would be a boy and we had decided to call her Penn—a family name. At the last moment we had to change that and she was so like a little bird …”
I felt sick with shame. What had happened to my mother’s good sense? Did she not realize that this man was an enemy? Of course she did not know how he had treated me. She saw him only as my rescuer. I wanted to shout the truth. I had a feeling that he was waiting for me to do so and in fact was rather hoping that I would, but something warned me. Wait, I cautioned myself. Do not act rashly. Think about this.
I was longing for him to leave that I might go to my room. I wanted to take off my clothes, examine my bruises, wash and put on clean clothes. As if I could make myself clean again … ever.
“My dearest Linnet,” said my mother, “you are quite exhausted.”
“I would like to go to my bedchamber and wash and rest …”
“But of course.” She smiled at Colum Casvellyn. “You will understand. But pray do not hurry away. I regret my husband is not at home. We can have a room prepared for you. You will wish to rest a while after your journey.”
“I am used to journeys and since my mission is completed must be on my way.”
I had risen and my mother called Jennet.
“You should rest, my dear,” she said to me. “It has been an ordeal.”
I wanted to shout: You don’t know what an ordeal! I could see his eyes on me, mocking, daring me to tell my mother exactly what had happened.
Jennet came in and my mother told her to take hot water to my room; and she herself would bring me a posset which her grandmother had always brewed for exhaustion.
Jennet grasped a reluctant Damask by the hand and I took a cool leave of Colum Casvellyn.
He bowed. “It gave me great pleasure to be of service, particularly after my manners on the first occasion.”
“You did let us have the room,” said my mother.
“But, Madam, can you forgive me for my churlish manners. I confess I had been drinking too much of the landlord’s wine.”
“I would forgive anything for what you have done this night.”
I wanted to scream and I could see he was suppressing his mirth. He had said he was possessed by a devil. Indeed it seemed so.
I went to my room. It was easier to think there. Jennet brought my hot water. I took off my clothes. I could not get out of my mind the image of his removing them. I should never wear them again. I washed my body and put on clean garments. Strangely enough, I felt better. I went to the window for I heard voices below. My mother was showing him the gardens.
It was unfortunate that he should have looked up and seen me there.
He lifted his hand to his lips as he had on that other occasion. My mother by good luck had not seen me.
I turned hastily away from the window.
When my mother came in with the posset I was lying on my bed.
She knelt beside the bed and laid her hand on my forehead.
“Oh, Linnet, I don’t think I shall ever forget that moment when I saw that man riding away with you. We should never have taken that journey. There should have been more grooms to protect us. Next time I shall see that they are armed. Thank God that man was there. Who would have thought that it should be the one we disliked so much at the inn.
I should tell her now. She would advise me what to do.
Not yet, I thought. I am not ready to talk yet. I must think about it.
Think about it! I could do nothing else. It was there in my dreams and when I was awake. Images came into my mind. I was not sure whether I imagined these things or whether they had actually taken place.
All I knew was that I could never be the same again, and as the days passed I began to realize that I would not speak to my mother of what had happened. It would be too distressing to us all.
My father came home and when the house was filled with his vital presence I told myself he must never know. I was aware what would happen if he did. He would set out with a cutlass and nothing would satisfy him but the head of Colum Casvellyn.
For that man I cared not but there was a notion of which I could not rid myself. There was a growing conviction in my mind that whatever conflict he entered into he would emerge the victor. He was like my own father, but he was young and my father was no longer so.
Colum Casvellyn must not be allowed to bring more tragedy to my family. And the only way I could prevent this happening was to remain silent.
The hideous happenings of that night must be my secret … and his.
THE HASTY MARRIAGE
CHRISTMAS CAME AND THERE were the usual festivities although my father had said there should be very special rejoicing in the culmination of this year of victory. It was now over a month since my adventure. It still haunted me. My mother noticed that I had changed and asked me if I were well. I assured her I was, and still I said nothing, which was strange for previously I had always shared confidences with her. But of this I could not talk.
We decorated the great hall with holly and ivy; and there was much singing and dancing and playing with cards and dice. The servants enjoyed this for they were only allowed to do it during the Christmas season, therefore it seemed especially exciting as all forbidden things do. There was a law which forbade craftsmen and servants to gamble, which most of us said was for their own good. Of course a man of substance could do as he wished. My father liked to gamble. He was a gambler by nature and he was inclined to be very lenient with servants who broke the law in that way.
So Christmas was celebrated with the dice and cards and the mummers and masking; and it was as I remembered it had been all my life.
“Last Christmas,” said my mother, “the fear of the Spaniards hung over us like a black pall. This year we are free.” I wished I felt free. A greater black pall hung over me, for a national disaster can never really affect us like a personal one.
With the new year the Landors came for the proposed visit. Loving to boast about his possessions, my father had wished to impress them with his wealth. My mother retorted that the Landors were a wealthy family and would not be amazed by that in others, particularly if it were thrust under their noses to be remarked on.
But my father would have it his way. I knew he was very excited about the prospect of new business interests.
New Year, he said, should be celebrated much as Christmas. A Lord of Misrule should be appointed through a certain trinket to be found in one of the cakes or puddings and that should add to the fun. It was to be a right merry welcoming in of the new year, for he prophesied it would be a year of great prosperity for England.
My mother said to me: “It will be a pleasure to see the Landors again. Do you think so too, Linnet?”
She was looking at me intently and I could not meet her eye. I said that I should indeed be pleased.
“It seems that they will join with your father. I like the idea. I daresay we shall see a great deal of them in the future.”
I could see she was already planning my wedding. Now was the time to tell her. I began: “Mother …” There was a dreamy look in her eyes. I could see she was visualizing the bride and bridegroom and all the preparations that must go into a wedding. And again I could not bring myself to speak of that night at Castle Paling.
On the last day of the old year the Landors arrived. Fennimore took my hands in his and smiled at me. I felt my heart uplifted a little, because he was so different from Colum Casvellyn. How gentle he was, how tender he would be.
My father and mother were in the courtyard welcoming the guests, my father
shouting orders and making the servants run hither and thither, my mother taking quiet command.
We took them to their rooms and they pleased my father by admiring Lyon Court. The smell of roasting and baking filled the house and it was a very merry party which sat down to supper that evening. Edwina had come over with Carlos, for Carlos was very interested in the new venture and would indeed have a share in it. So would Jacko; and young Penn was determined to learn all he could.
Edwina was beginning to show signs of pregnancy; she had changed; she was more beautiful I thought because there was such a lovely serenity on her face. She had always been so anxious when Carlos went away on his voyages. Now, I thought, she will have a child to care for and she will be happier.
She talked to me about the coming child when we were alone.
“I’m so happy, Linnet,” she said. “I’ve wanted this so much … and so has Carlos. We thought it would never happen and now it has. Is it not strange? For so long we have been married and yet some people conceive immediately. I really began to think there was something wrong with me.”
I said it was wonderful to see her so delighted and asked what she hoped for, a boy or a girl.
“Carlos wants a boy of course. Men always do.”
“My mother says they so admire themselves that they want to see a replica. That is why they want sons.”
Edwina laughed. “I simply don’t care. I merely want a baby. You’ll know how I feel one day, Linnet.”
There followed a week of pleasant friendship. The men were often together talking of ships and the trade they would bring throughout the world. My father took the Landors on to those of his ships which were in the Sound and they planned all kinds of alteration to them which would render them more suitable for the new project. My mother was very happy. I knew she had decided on Fennimore for me and she believed that before the visit was over an announcement would be made.
It was at the New Year that the frightening possibility had come to me. It could have happened. He himself had suggested it. I was not sure of course but I soon should be and what should I do then?
I feigned a headache and shut myself in my room. My mother sent Jennet up with a posset for me. Jennet was a very talkative woman and her conversation was full of hints about men. It had always been so. My mother used to say: “Jennet was made as she is. I suppose we can’t blame her.”
Jennet sat on the bed and held out the posset to me.
“There, Mistress Linnet, you drink that. It’ll give you a nice sleep and you’ll be right as rain.”
“Thank you, Jennet,” I said.
She brought her face close to mine and looked at me searchingly: “Mistress Linnet, there’s nothing wrong?”
“Wrong?” I said. “What do you mean.”
She blushed. She had always had a habit of blushing if her thoughts were indelicate and although she had been the mistress of many men she had the air of a virgin. I think that was probably what attracted them.
“Oh … nothing, Mistress. There was that gentleman at the inn.” She giggled. “My dear life, I remember when he came into the inn and would have his way. You could see he was that kind. Reminded me of the Captain, he did.” She used my father’s name with reverence. She was more proud than anything else that once he had got her with child. Jacko was the result. Jacko was her only child in spite of her numerous lovers. She went on giggling about the man at the inn and watching me covertly. “And then he rescued you. When I watched you being made off with and him after you … my dear life!”
I said: “I’m going to try to sleep now, Jennet.”
“Yes, Mistress.” She looked down at me. “And then he took you to his castle. ’Tis like an old tale of knights and ladies that the minstrels do sing of, I do declare.”
There was a dreamy look in her eyes which yet held a certain astuteness. I thought: She knows what has happened. Is it possible then? And the niggling fear was with me.
Twelfth Night came. This was the culmination of the festivities. The following day the holly and the ivy would be taken down and solemnly burned in the meadow. It was unlucky to leave it up after that.
We had the Twelfth Night cake and there was a great deal of speculation as to which of us would find the silver penny.
Fennimore was the lucky one. My father as head of the house announced: “I crown you Lord of Misrule till the midnight hour.” And the crown which we used every year was placed on his head.
My father, Captain Landor and two of the tallest of the menservants carried him round the hall and he chalked crosses on the beams wherever he could reach them chanting: “Protect this house from the curse of devils and evil spirits and of all conjuring and wicked charms.”
We played games. My mother had hidden treasure and we were to hunt for it in pairs. I was pleased when Fennimore, Lord of Misrule, chose me as his companion; and I could not refuse him if I had wished because he was King for the night.
We went off hand in hand, Fennimore holding our candle high, and I was aware that the eyes of my parents followed us with approval. I was sure that they had decided this would be a fitting time to announce our betrothal. Family ties would cement the business ones. I had to lead the way because naturally he did not know the house as I did.
My mother had devised the clues and the finding of one led us on to the next. It was a game we had played all our lives; and the treasure hunt was considered to be the highlight of any of our gatherings. It showed how they trusted Fennimore to allow me to go off with him as they did; for usually young people were paired off by their elders. Of course Fennimore was the Lord of Misrule and was supposed to have his way, but if someone like Colum Casvellyn had been in his place they would never have allowed it. Why did I have to think of that man so constantly? What a question to ask myself! How could I ever forget him? What a fateful, evil trip that had been for me. It would affect my whole life. How strange that one night could do that.
Fennimore said: “Are you cold?”
“No, no. It was just a passing shiver. Someone walking over my grave, as they say.”
And I thought: The grave of my innocence which is now dead but not buried deep enough.
He took my hand.
“Are we going to find the treasure?” he asked.
“That depends on how clever you are.”
“You are the clever one.”
“I? Whatever gave you such a notion?”
“I suspect it. You are a very unusual girl, Linnet.”
“Surely not.”
“I think so,” he said.
We had crossed the hall and mounted the dais. There was a door there which led into the small dining-room and sitting-rooms which we used when we were alone, for fashions were changing and in households like ours only on special occasions did people dine in the hall with all the servants seated below the salt.
We looked into these rooms and we were not very successful with the clues. I think our minds were not on the treasure hunt.
We mounted the staircase and went along the gallery. Fennimore sat down in one of the window seats and drew me beside him. He lifted the candle and looked into my face.
Then he set it down and said: “Linnet, there is something I have to say to you.”
My heart began to beat very fast because I knew what he was going to say and I wanted to stop him. I wanted him to wait until I had grown farther away from that night at Castle Paling. I wanted to know whether it would be possible for me to cast it right out of my mind, to forget it so completely that it would seem as though it had never happened. Until I knew, I did not want Fennimore to say what was in his mind.
He went on: “I am so happy that your parents and mine are going to work together. I admire your father so much although I am so different from him and I think he would rather I was more like he is.”
“Why should he wish that?”
“Because he is so adventurous and has led a life of great daring.”
“I gather he has not always
acted admirably.”
“He is a bold captain. The Queen has complimented him. He is the kind of man who has saved this country from the Spaniards. That is why it seems so wonderful to me that he should now be ready to fight another campaign … a campaign of peace.”
“It is not necessary surely to be aggressive to succeed.”
“I do agree with you. But what I want to say to you is this. Our families will work together. Linnet, from the moment we first met I felt drawn to you. If your father had not joined with us, it would have made no difference to my feeling.”
I must stop him quickly. He must not go on and ask me to marry him … yet.
I put out a hand helplessly and he took it.
He raised it to his lips. Memory stirred within me. I could feel hot hard lips on my skin. Was I ever going to forget?
How gentle he was, how tender. I needed tenderness. What would I not have given if I could go back two months … My mother had said: “We will go by road, it is not such a long journey.” And I had been excited at the prospect. Then the scene in the inn and that nightmare moment on the road and later … that oblivion which was not quite complete and the experience which I had had no will to resist.
If only it had never happened.
He kept my hand in his. “Our families wish it, Linnet. That makes me so happy. It will be so right for us … You will not be far away from your home. Your mother will visit us. So you will not be parted. I know your love for each other.”
“Please don’t go on, Fennimore,” I said.
“Why not, Linnet? Surely you know that I love you. I believe you care for me …”
“I cannot say,” I stammered foolishly. “I must have time. It is too soon … I am not ready.”
“I should have waited awhile. You are so young and so innocent …”
I was glad that he could not see the deep flush in my cheeks. I was trying to suppress those flashes of memory. Had I been doing that ever since?
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