“Don’t be afraid,” said Rupert, “there’s no one here.”
“Only the ghosts of those monks who have died miserably because they have been dispossessed.”
“They would never harm us.”
We made our way to the burial ground and I stood by holding the lantern while Rupert dug a grave.
I myself held the box which held that precious relic. Then together we prayed and called for a blessing on that great good man.
I shall never forget the sound of clods of earth falling on the box; and at that sound the tears started to my eyes.
I think from that moment I began to feel that I could face life again.
Each day I went to the monks’ burial ground. I planted a rosemary on the grave. I used to kneel beside it and talk to my father as I had when he was alive. I asked for courage so that I could go on living my life without him.
The Stepfather
A WEEK AFTER THAT night when we had buried my father’s head Kate came and declared her intention to take me back to Remus Castle.
I said I would stay where I was for I wanted to visit the spot where my father’s head was buried.
But Kate was determined.
“You are coming back with me,” she declared. “Young Carey misses you. Betsy says she has not had one peaceful night since you left.”
At length I was persuaded and I left with Kate for Remus.
Kate swore that little Carey was happy now that I had returned, but I said he was far too young for that; but I did find comfort in the child. Kate took great pains to please me. She coaxed me into showing some interest in the gowns she had had made for her. She insisted that I admire the jewelry Remus gave her.
She was going to Court soon. Though she complained the Court had become dull.
“The King,” she said, “finds great pleasure in his new wife and makes excuses to be alone with her. This takes a great burden off his courtiers but means there is less entertainment; and he’s in a good mood too, except when the ulcer on his leg is painful, but the Queen knows how to comfort him. She is young and very pretty but I have heard she has had some experience in offering comfort before her marriage.”
But I could not bear to talk of the King. I regarded him as my father’s murderer and I was filled with a hatred toward him which had it been known would have doubtless meant a sojourn in the Tower for me and my head on a pike over London Bridge.
There was a certain amount of talk too about the new laws against heretics. A heretic was one who did not accept the King as Supreme Head of the Church, be he Papist or anti-Papist.
“It’s a very simple rule,” said Kate. “The King is right whatever he does. Whatever he says is the truth and all those who contradict are traitors. It’s all one has to remember.”
And I was sure that there had never been a time so fraught with danger as these in which we lived.
In Remus Castle we seemed away from the world. I did love the baby and I began to believe that he had special feeling for me. It was true that if he were bawling lustily, which he often did, and I picked him up he would stop and something like a smile would touch his features. Kate was proud of the child in an offhand sort of way. She left him to the nurses but because I was interested in him and wanted him often with me, she saw more of him than she would otherwise have done.
His christening in the castle chapel was a grand affair and as many people from Court were present, I made the acquaintance of Dukes and Earls who before had been merely names to me. Their conversation was chiefly about the King and the new Queen. It was amazing how people could not prevent themselves discussing subjects which they knew could be dangerous. They reminded me of moths flying to a candle.
The Queen, it seemed, had a definite charm which enthralled the King. She was not pretty by any means, she lacked the elegance of Queen Anne Boleyn, but the King had not been so delighted with any of his wives as he was with Katharine Howard—apart from Anne Boleyn before their marriage perhaps. The new Queen had a way with her, I gathered. She was good-natured, easygoing, sensuous—just what an old man needed to revive his youth and that, it seemed, was what Katharine Howard was doing for King Henry. As for the last Queen, Anne of Cleves, she was thoroughly enjoying her life at Richmond Palace and delighted to call herself the King’s sister as she congratulated herself on her lucky escape.
There was, it was true, an insurrection on Yorkshire, when men rose to protest against the new Supreme Head of the Church, but that was quickly suppressed and the requisite amount of blood shed to ensure that the people understood what happened to those who opposed the King.
But now that the King had found a wife who pleased him so much that he did not want to change her, life seemed to have become more peaceful.
Six weeks had passed since my father’s death and then one day Lord Remus came out to the pond garden while Kate and I sat there with the baby in his basket and said: “I have grave news for you, Damask.”
My heart pounded in fear; but even then I wondered what else could happen that could seem of any real importance to me.
Lord Remus was frowning. He did not seem to know how to begin.
“Damask,” he said, “you must know that when a man is judged a traitor and is executed there are occasions when his worldly possessions are confiscated by the King who may take them for himself or divert them to someone he considers is deserving of them.”
“You are telling me,” I said, “that the King has not only robbed my father of his head but has taken his estates as well.”
“That is what I understand, Damask.”
“So…I am homeless.”
“It is not quite as desperate as that. A certain amount of leniency has been shown in your father’s case.” He added with a cynicism which he did not seem to realize, “It is not as though his estates were so very large…by the King’s standards, that is.”
“Please tell me what has happened.”
Lord Remus hesitated. He coughed. “It’s a little delicate,” he said, “but I have been asked to break this to you and so must I. You should not think that your father’s house will no longer be your home. Simon Caseman has made that clear. There is always to be a home for you there.”
“Simon Caseman!” I cried. “What is this to him?”
“The King’s officers have decided to bestow your father’s house on him.”
“But why?”
“He has lived with your family. He has been your father’s right-hand man in business.”
“But…if it is decided to take my father’s estate from those to whom it belongs…my mother and myself…why not to Rupert who is related to us?”
Lord Remus looked uneasy. “My dear Damask, to leave it to a relative would not be to confiscate it from the family. The King wishes to reward Simon Caseman and this is his way of doing it.”
“Why should the King wish to reward Simon Caseman? He has worked with my father. I should have thought he might have been suspect since he lived in that house of iniquity.”
“There has been an investigation of the case. Simon Caseman has said that he is eager to marry….”
“No,” I cried. “That can’t be.”
Lord Remus went on as though I had not spoken. “He is eager to marry your mother and this will solve a difficulty. Neither you nor your mother will be homeless although, in accordance with his right, the King has deprived your father and his heirs of their possessions.”
I stared at him. “My mother to marry Simon Caseman?”
“In a reasonable time…not immediately. It seems a good arrangement.”
I could not believe it. It seemed incredible to me. My mother to marry this man who but a short time ago had been pleading with me to marry him.
It was like a nightmare; and then the light began to dawn on me. I saw his face in my mind—the fox’s mask exaggerated and I heard my father’s voice: “Someone in the house has betrayed me.”
Kate came bursting into my room.
“
I wondered where you were. I couldn’t imagine why you didn’t come down. What’s the matter?”
I said, “I have just heard that our house now belongs to Simon Caseman and that he is going to marry my mother.”
“Remus told me,” she said.
“Oh, Kate, do you realize what this means? He planned it. The King wished to reward him. For what? Mayhap for informing against my father and Amos Carmen?”
Kate stared at me in disbelief.
“You can’t mean that.”
“Something within me tells me that it could be true.”
“Then he would be your father’s murderer.”
“If I could be sure of that I would kill him.”
“No, Damask, it can’t be.”
“It fits, Kate. He asked me to marry him. He has asked me several times. Does he love me? No, he wanted my inheritance.”
“That may be so, but a man is not a murderer for wishing to make a good marriage.”
“I refused, and he took this opportunity of betraying my father.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because someone in the house betrayed him and who but Simon Caseman?”
“You jump to conclusions.”
“You forget he will have my father’s estates. That is what he always wanted. That was why he asked me to marry him. Oh, I knew it was the fox’s mask I saw there on his face.”
“Fox’s mask. What nonsense is this?”
“I saw it on his face. When his face is in shadow it is there. His eyes are tawny like a fox’s. He is a sly fox who came in to rob the hen roost.”
“Do you feel all right, Damask? This has all been too much for you.”
“And I have lost my senses!” I cried. “That’s what you think. But did you know that my mother is going to marry him?”
“Remus has just told me it is so.”
Kate stared at me incredulously.
“I must go home at once,” I said.
When I arrived at the house it seemed very quiet. I was not expected so there was no one to greet me. The house seemed different. Of course it was different. It was a house in mourning. It had a new master now.
I went up to my mother’s stillroom. She was there and when she saw me she flushed as red as the reddest of her roses. She knew that I was aware of what she was preparing to do and I was glad to see that she could show some shame.
“I have heard, Madam,” I said.
She nodded and sat down on a chair. She waved her hand in front of her face like a fan. She was now quite pale and was implying that she was about to faint. I thought how like her it was to faint in a crisis. It had been her way out of a difficult situation more than once. I forgot that she was my mother. I despised her in that moment because Simon Caseman was so hateful to me and now that I was home the enormity of my father’s loss was brought back afresh.
I said: “So you are going out of mourning for your murdered husband and putting on wedding garments ready for your next.”
“Damask,” she said, “you must try to understand.”
“I understand too well,” I said.
Her hands fluttered helplessly. “We should have been homeless. It seemed the only thing to do.”
“You think he chose you for his wife?”
“You see, Damask, he has the estates now and it is the best thing for us all, that was why he chose me….”
“You mistake me. I know very well why that man chose you. I am surprised that my noble father should ever have married a woman who could forget and forgive his murder when his body is scarcely cold, and be ready to dance at her wedding.”
“It will not be a grand affair, Damask. A quiet wedding, we thought.”
I laughed scornfully. She would never understand anything but her garden and her herbs and how to make her pastry light. I felt a sudden pity for her—poor helpless woman, who had never really made a decision for herself.
“Simon Caseman,” I said. “You can consider him…after you have been Father’s wife!”
“Your father is dead.”
I turned away to hide my emotion.
“Oh, Damask,” she went on. “I know how close you two were. He cared more for you than for me. It was always Damask….”
“He was the best of husbands as well as fathers,” I said fiercely.
“He was a good man, I know.”
“And so you have decided to put this adventurer in his place.”
“I don’t think you have realized what is happening, Damask. Your father’s estates are confiscated.”
“And passed to Simon Caseman. Why, do you think? Why?”
“Because he was your father’s right-hand man. They have worked together. This is his home too. And he will marry me and we can go on as in the old way.”
“As in the old way! When he is not here. I would to God we could go on in the old way. Do you think it will be the same with your new master? Mother, I know a daughter should not say this, but I will. You are a fool.”
“I think your grief has upset you so much that you do not know what you say.”
“I know this, that Simon Caseman came into this house with the express purpose of making it his. Did you know that he has asked me to marry him…many times. So devoted he was. So chivalrous! He thought to get possession of the place through me. I was not so susceptible to his charm as you are. I said, no, I would never marry you. So he casts about for other ways. Who else is there? There is my mother. But she has a husband. Let us get rid of him and marry the accommodating widow.”
“Damask. Damask, what are you saying?”
“I am saying that I am very suspicious of a man who asks the daughter to marry him and when she refuses and the mother is in a position to give him what he seeks, promptly decides to take her.”
“My child, be careful. Do not say such things. They are wild. They are impossible. But they could mean disaster for you.”
“To speak against the King’s man, yes. I’ll dareswear you are right.”
“All wise men are the King’s men. You should know that.”
“So my father was unwise?” Whenever I mentioned his name words seemed to choke me. My emotion gave my mother the advantage. She came to me and laid a hand on my shoulder.
“Listen to me, Damask,” she said, “this terrible thing has happened to us. Your father hid that priest in the nuttery cottage. In doing so he risked his life, our estates and our future. I know that he was a saintly man, but saints who endanger their lives and those of their family are not acting wisely. What would become of us, Damask, if I do not make this marriage? We should be thrown out onto the roads as beggars or onto the mercy of our relations. I daresay Remus would help us. But when I marry Simon we shall continue to live here. It will be as before….”
“It will never be as before,” I said. “He is gone.”
“My child, you have to grow away from this. Some are taken…in that way. How do any of us know where we shall be tomorrow? I thought of the house and everything here. I thought of you and the home…and Simon will be a good husband to me.”
I said: “You are older than he is.”
“It is of no moment.”
“How could I stay here and see that man in my father’s place?”
“You will become accustomed to it. Simon is a good man of business. He has prospered and he will continue to do so. The choice is stay here and live in comfort or go out penniless into the world and starve or live on the bounty of relations. Simon has come to me with his offer of marriage. I have accepted it.”
“You want this marriage,” I said. “When you speak of it there is a gleam of pleasure in your eyes.”
“I was never a woman who wished to stand alone. Simon has promised to look after me. There are women who must have a husband. I am one. Simon and I understand each other. Your father and I had little to say to each other. He was always buried in a book or teaching you. I could never understand him when he quoted in his Greek or was it Latin?”
“You make excuses,” I said. “You are eager for this marriage. I see it. You are ten years or more older than he. And he is marrying you for the estate!”
“The estate is his without me.”
“But he wants it as it was. He wants a woman to look after the household as you do. He does not want it said that he turned the family from the home to beg in the streets. He wants to have power over us. Can’t you see?”
“You imagine this, Damask.”
“And who informed against Father?” I asked.
“There were many who could have done it.”
“The servants, who would lose a good master by it?” I demanded.
“There are others who could have done it.”
“His wife,” I asked, “who fancied a young man in her bed?”
“Damask!”
I was sorry at once. “Oh, Mother,” I said, “I cannot bear it. He has gone forever. I shall never see his dear face again, never hear his voice….”
I covered my face with my hands and she was holding me in her arms. “My child,” she said, “my baby. I understand. You are upset. You and he were as one. I used to feel shut out. You never had much time for me, did you? I understand. Try to accept this, daughter. Try to see that we have to go on and this is a way.”
I felt limp and exhausted by my emotion. I allowed her to take me to my room and tuck me in. She brought me a potion. She had just devised it, she said. There was pimpernel to make me feel happy and thyme to give me pleasant dreams and there was an ashen branch to lay on my pillow for it was said to drive away evil spirits—those who put cruel thoughts into the mind.
I let her soothe me and, worn out with emotion, I slept.
When I awoke I was refreshed. I thought of my mother, helpless like her shrubs in the gale, blown this way and that by circumstances which were too much for her. I could not blame her. I knew her character well. She was a good housekeeper; she wanted to live in peace; my father had had little in common with her for she had never been educated beyond learning to read and write; she could never follow his reasoning. He had determined to educate me and he had often said that education was not learning the fruit and flowers of other men in order to repeat them and make a show of erudition; its purpose must be to set the mind in motion that it might produce flowers and fruit of its own.
The Miracle at St. Bruno's Page 18