The Miracle at St. Bruno's

by Philippa Carr

  I hated the man as much as I hated his son. Their frank and racy conversation brought images to my mind. I was a virgin, but I knew something of the relationships of the sexes. Once I had come upon two of the servants copulating in a field. I had listened to talk. So the images came and went … myself and that man, with his lustful, mocking eyes. And when I was in his presence these images were always ready to intrude and disturb.

  I scarcely listened to the conversation. It was about the wedding and first of all the betrothal celebration. Honey was bewildered and I was not surprised because it was such a short time ago that I had expressed my dislike of the man. Edward never betrayed his feelings; as far as he was concerned no one would have guessed that there was anything unusual about this betrothal.

  It was to take place the following week; and the wedding should be four weeks later. “That will give Jake time to do his courting.” The old man’s chuckle was horrible. He meant of course forestall our marriage vows. “And as soon as we get them into legal bed the better. Jake will be sailing just two months after the day. But it’ll not be a long voyage this time. Jake wouldn’t have that when he’d a wife keeping his bed warm for him.”

  I felt sickened. I wanted to shout out: I will never agree. I am pretending. I have no intention of marrying this man.

  But I kept silent because whenever I was about to speak I thought of Honey and Edward taken off to some miserable cell and my mother’s heartbroken eyes. She had suffered too much already.

  In any case, I was deceiving them. I was letting this arrogant man think he had subdued me. Nothing would induce me to share his bed as his father was fond of putting it, to bear his child, which seemed to be the main idea in the minds of both of them.

  It seemed a long time before they left. I was embraced by both father and son. I hated the way they thrust their bodies close to mine.

  We stood in the courtyard while they rode away.

  When they had gone Honey turned to me.

  “What happened to make you change your mind so suddenly?”

  “We can’t talk here,” I said.

  We went into the punch room. I said: “Not here.” The punch room was approached from the dining room and there was no door to it, only a curtain over the archway.

  I said: “Let us go into the chapel. Let us lock the chapel door and that which leads into the leper’s squint.”

  The chapel was as normal. There was no sign that Mass had been recently celebrated.

  I went to the leper’s squint and peered through into the little room beyond.

  “The doors are locked,” I said. “What a pity you didn’t lock them both before Thomas Elders officiated.”

  “What do you mean?” demanded Honey.

  “Jake Pennlyon was in there.” I pointed to the squint. “I met him coming out. He told me that unless I agreed to marry him he would make it known that Thomas Elders was here and for what purpose.”

  “My God!” said Edward suddenly.

  Honey laid her hand on his arm. “What would happen to us, Edward?”

  His fingers closed over hers protectively. How different he was from Jake Pennlyon! Must I compare every man with that one! He was gentle, protective, loving, tender.

  “I don’t know,” said Edward. “It could be most unsafe.”

  “So you promised, to save us.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Catharine!”

  “Don’t imagine I am going to marry him. I’ll fight him.” Again that wild exhilaration. I enjoyed fighting him. I wanted to defeat him, to laugh at him, to mock him. I had never dreamed it was possible to feel so strongly about one person. I had about Carey, of course, but that was the intensity of love—this was hatred. “I had to pretend then or he would have betrayed you. He is a wicked man. I loathe him and his father.”

  “But, Catharine, there is to be this betrothal.”

  “I shall make no vows. I shall fight them.”

  Honey was looking at me strangely. Then she turned to Edward and clung to him.

  He said: “Don’t fear, my love. They can prove nothing. We must be careful in future. I must warn Thomas. If young Pennlyon knows he may well set traps for him.”

  I thought of my father then, who had brought so much unhappiness to our household because of what he had done to help a friend. Edward would be like that. He was such another as my father … born for martyrdom, which was a terrible thing to be born for in our times.

  I went to my room and it was not long before Honey was there.

  “Oh, Catharine, what have we all brought upon ourselves?”

  She looked frail and frightened; her hand lay gently on her stomach as though she were protecting the child which was growing there.

  I felt protective toward her and I said: “Don’t fret. I’ll outwit this arrogant Pennlyon.”

  Her mood changed suddenly.

  “Why, Catharine,” she said, “I have not seen you so animated since…”

  She did not finish; and I knew she meant since I had learned that Carey was lost to me.

  She was right. I had not felt so alive since then.

  The next day the Pennlyons went away for a few days in connection with stores for the coming voyages. Jake Pennlyon rode over to Trewynd before they left. I saw him coming and went to Honey and made her promise not to leave me alone with him.

  We received him in the hall. He embraced me in that manner which made me want to throw him from me and which made him laugh as he sensed my resistance. I think he liked it; my submission, of which he was absolutely sure, would be the more rewarding if he had to force it. He was a hunter and women to him were prey.

  Honey sent for wine and we went to the punch room—the three of us together.

  “I have bad news for you,” said Jake Pennlyon. “I have to leave you.”

  I smiled and he went on: “Don’t despair. ’Tis but for a few days and I’ll be back. Then we’ll make up for our separation.”

  “I would not wish you to cut short your business,” I said.

  “I never waste time. Rest assured I’ll complete with all speed what has to be done and come back to you. I should like to walk in the gardens with you. There are matters we must discuss.”

  “I will accompany you,” said Honey demurely.

  “Madam, we would not disturb you.”

  “’T would be a pleasure,” said Honey.

  His eyes glinted. “We ask no chaperone.”

  “Nevertheless, propriety does.”

  “We don’t have such ceremonies here,” said Jake Pennlyon. “We’re plain country folk.”

  “My sister must behave in the manner expected by her family,” said Honey.

  I smiled at her. Dear Honey, she was so grateful to me for protecting her and Edward from the malice of these Pennlyons.

  I said: “We will walk in the gardens and keep in sight of the windows.”

  I was surprised at myself. But I did want to do battle with him—though from a safe place it was true. Nevertheless, I couldn’t resist the desire to tell him how much I disliked him.

  His eyes lighted up. I wondered how much he understood of me.

  As we went out together he said: “So we have escaped the dragon.”

  “Honey is no dragon. She is merely observing the laws of propriety.”

  “Laws of nonsense!” he said. “You and I are as good as married. ’Tis not as though I’d tumble you in the grass, get you with child and leave you.”

  “In accordance I suppose with your usual practice.”

  “’Tis a well-worn practice. But curb your jealousy. When I have you I’ll be content.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “The contentment?”

  “I was thinking of the other.”

  “Not trying to evade your responsibilities, I trust. It would go ill with you and yours if you did.”

  “You are a cruel, ruthless man. You are a blackmailer, a rapist, you are all that good and honest men … and women … despi
se.”

  “You are wrong. The men seek to emulate me; as for the women there are dozens of them who’d give ten years of their lives to be in your place.”

  I laughed at him. “A braggart too.”

  “You please me,” he said.

  “I’m sorry for that.”

  “Yes,” he went on, “you please me as I please you.”

  “Your powers of perception are nonexistent. I hate you.”

  “The kind of hate you have for me is very close to love.”

  “You have a great deal to learn of me.”

  “And a lifetime to do it in.”

  “Do not be too sure of that.”

  “What, trying to evade your vows!”

  “Vows … what vows? You threaten rape; you blackmail. Then you talk of vows.”

  He stopped short and pulled me around to face him. I was aware of Honey at the window and felt safe.

  “Look me straight in the eyes,” he said.

  “I can think of pleasanter sights.”

  He gripped my arm in a manner which made me gasp.

  “Please, will you remember that I am unaccustomed to physical violence? You will bruise my arm. You did so when you last gripped it.”

  “So I left my mark on you. That is well. Look at me.”

  I gazed up haughtily into those fierce blue eyes.

  “Tell me now that you are indifferent to me.”

  I hesitated and he laughed triumphantly.

  I said quickly: “I suppose when one despises another person as I do you that could scarcely be called indifference.”

  “So you despise me? You are sure of that?”

  “Absolutely sure.”

  “Yet you enjoy despising me. Answer truthfully. Your heart beats faster when you see me; your eyes have a sparkle. You can’t deceive me. I will have much to teach you, my wildcat. You will find me a very good tutor.”

  “As no doubt many have before.”

  “You should not be jealous of them. I would give up them all for you.”

  “Pray do not deny yourself. Go where you will. Continue to tutor others. All I ask is that you leave me to myself.”

  “Leave the mother of my sons?”

  “They have yet to be conceived.”

  “A matter which causes me great impatience. Let us escape the dragon … now.”

  “I see what you mean by your tutelage. You have forgotten that I am not some tavern wench or serving girl. You would have to behave very differently if you wished to impress a lady of breeding.”

  “I have not of course mixed in such circles as you. You might instruct me in the manners you expect and, who knows, I might try to please you … if you pleased me.”

  “I shall return to the house now,” I said. “I have walked far enough.”

  “What if I decided to carry you off with me?”

  “My sister is watching us. Her husband would immediately come to my rescue.”

  “Why should I fear them?”

  “If you wish to marry me you could not create a situation which would be so ignominious that they could not ignore it. They would decide that you were an unsuitable husband.”

  “In the circumstances…”

  “In any circumstances,” I replied. “In a family like ours, the indiscretion at which you hint, if it came to pass, would mean that whatever the consequences we would avenge it.”

  “You’ve a sharp tongue. Marry! Methinks you could become a shrew.”

  “And a tiresome encumbrance as a wife.”

  “To some men, yes. For me, no. I’ll force the venom from your tongue and make it drip with honey.”

  “I had no idea you could turn such phrases.”

  “You have yet to discover my talents.”

  “I have had enough of them this day and will return to the house.”

  He gripped my fingers.

  “If you and I should marry you will have to learn to handle me more gently. You all but break my fingers.”

  “When we marry,” he said, “I will treat you as you merit. And that is a matter for the very near future.”

  I had wrenched my hand away and started to walk toward the house.

  The Pennlyons left that afternoon. “How peaceful it is,” I said to Honey, “knowing that they are not so close.”

  “What shall you do, Catharine?” she asked anxiously. “You could return home. We could say that your mother was ill. While they are away is the time to go.”

  “Yes,” I said, “that’s the time.”

  Then I thought: If I went he would come after me. Or worse still he would betray Thomas Elders. I pictured all those who had entertained the priest being brought before a tribunal.

  Edward had many rich lands; very often those who had estates to be confiscated were the ones who suffered most.

  I mentioned this to Honey and she grew pale. She knew it was true.

  “I’ll not run away,” I said. “I’ll stay. I’ll find some way. I swear I will. Don’t worry. It’s bad for the child.”

  I knew in my heart that I was enjoying my battles with Jake Pennlyon. It gave me a kind of inverted pleasure and although there were moments when I was afraid it was the sort of fear a child experiences, a fear of goblins and witches in the woods, terrifying but irresistible.

  I would stay, I said.

  Three days after the Pennlyons had gone I was at my window looking out on the Hoe when immediately below in the courtyard I saw Jennet; she was walking stealthily toward the stables and there was something concealed under her apron.

  Luce looked after me now—poor ill-favored Luce whose left shoulder was higher than the right and who was more than ordinarily pockmarked. I missed Jennet in a way. Luce worked well and was devoted to me; Jennet had betrayed me and so started the whole affair with Jake Pennlyon, though I supposed he would have found some other way of starting it if that had not happened. But Jennet with her fresh young face and her soft sensual lips and thick untidy hair had interested me more. I wondered how far Jake Pennlyon had gone with Jennet. He would not be one to waste time courting a servant girl, I was sure.

  And what was she doing now going down to the stables? Meeting some groom? I wanted to find out, so I slipped out of the house and went out by the small door into the courtyard.

  As I approached the stables I heard voices. Jennet’s rather shrill one and others in a lowered tone.

  I opened the door and there they were seated on the straw. Jennet had spread a cloth and on it were pieces of lamb and mutton with half a pie. With her were Richard Rackell and a stranger.

  Jennet jumped to her feet with a cry of dismay. Richard stood up and so did the other, a dark-haired man whom I guessed to be thirty or more years of age. The men bowed; Jennet stared wide-eyed and fearful.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “Mistress,” began Jennet.

  But Richard said: “A peddler has called with his wares, Mistress. He has traveled far and is in sore need of food. Jennet brought him something to eat from the kitchens.”

  “A peddler?” I said. “Why does he come to the stables?”

  “He was on his way to the house and so weary that I said he should rest here awhile before taking his wares to the house.”

  There was something dignified about Richard, interesting too. Moreover, the advent of a peddler was always exciting, more particularly here than at the Abbey. There we were not far from London and could take barge to the Chepe and buy from the mercers and lacemakers and merchants.

  The peddler had come forward and bowed to me.

  “His name is John, Mistress,” said Richard. “He craves your indulgence.”

  The man bowed again.

  “Can he not speak for himself?”

  “I can, Mistress,” said John; and his voice reminded me of Richard’s.

  “You have traveled far?”

  “From the North,” he said.

  “You should have gone to the kitchens. There they would have fed you. There was no
need for the maid to steal food and bring it here.”

  “’Tis not the fault of the maid,” said Richard gently. “’Twas I who sent her for food. Peddler John was footsore and sank into the straw to rest awhile.”

  “Well, he can eat to his fill. And, Jennet, you may go and bring some ale for him to drink. He can come to the washhouse then, and there spread out his wares for us to see. Jennet, you may take him to the washhouse when he has eaten and I will tell Mistress Ennis that we have a peddler who wishes to show his wares.”

  I found Honey and when I told her what had happened she was as eager as I to see what the peddler had brought. He spread out his pack. In it he had silks to make kerchiefs; he had trinkets and little boxes and combs. I saw a magnificent comb, to be placed in the hair and to stand so tall that it added three inches to the height.

  I pounced on it and stuck it in my hair. Honey declared it was becoming.

  I left her brooding over the peddler because I wanted to try the comb; and I thought of myself wearing it at the betrothal ceremony, which but a short while ago I was planning to escape.

  I dressed myself in a russet velvet gown and I placed the comb in my hair and I liked it. I wanted to show it to Honey and was about to go to her, when it occurred to me that she might still be considering what the peddler had in his pack. I glanced out of the window and at that moment saw her with the peddler. He had rolled up his pack and they were talking earnestly. Then I saw her take him across the courtyard, through the door and into the house, not toward the kitchens but to that part where she and Edward had their apartments.