The Miracle at St. Bruno's

by Philippa Carr

  Although I had begun to guess, the shock was none the less great. This was his wife then. This was the girl who had suffered at the hands of Jake Pennlyon.

  Isabella rose obediently and went to the woman. She put her arms about her, the doll held by one arm dangling down as she did so. A flood of words came from the woman, scolding and tender, I judged from the tones. Over the girl’s head the woman studied us. Her eyes were sharp, piercing under straggling black brows in which the occasional white hair was visible.

  She took the girl’s hand and drew her toward the door, but Isabella suddenly became petulant, crying, “No. No,” and turned to stare at us. She extricated herself from the woman’s arms and came over to stand before us. I was aware then of a scent which was familiar to me; it was the same as that which was in the toilet room and of which the clothes I wore smelled faintly. It was in the bedroom where I suffered my nightly humiliations. I wondered what it was.

  The girl spoke to us, but as it was in Spanish I could not understand; then the woman came and took her by the hand and led her firmly away.

  She turned to us at the door and spat out a word which I assumed meant “Go away.”

  The door shut and we were alone in the courtyard.

  “What a strange scene,” I said.

  “We deserved all we got. We had no right to be here. I wonder who the girl was.”

  “She must be his Isabella,” I said.

  “You mean … his wife? But she was a child.”

  The door into the courtyard had opened and Richard Rackell stood there.

  “Come away,” he said quickly. “You should not have gone there.”

  “Is it forbidden?” I asked coldly. I could never forget the part he had played in betraying us.

  “There have been no express orders,” he said holding open the door. He went on: “Please.”

  As we walked away he went on: “It was a terrible tragedy.”

  “Whatever happened,” I said fiercely, “does not excuse what has been done to us, nor those who helped to do it.”

  “You have seen the Lady Isabella,” he said. “She is as a child. She became so after the Rampant Lion came here. It affected her mind. She lives like a child with her duenna.”

  I said: “She is beautiful.”

  “You see a beautiful shell which holds nothing. Her mind is incapable of retaining anything; she has reverted to her childhood. Her interest is in her dolls. It is a great tragedy. You understand.”

  I wanted to be alone. I could not get out of my mind the memory of that beautiful face which was devoid of the light of understanding.

  The perfume too. I began to understand more. He tried to imagine that I was Isabella. I had to wear her clothes; use her perfume; he wanted to delude himself that the woman to whom he came each night was Isabella.

  My attitude toward him had changed. I was sorry for him. I pictured his returning from his expedition expecting to find his beautiful bride waiting for him; the marriage ceremony would have been fixed; he and his lovely highborn Isabella were to be husband and wife. Isabella may have been a child of fifteen, but they married young in Spain; and Felipe Gonzáles was a gentleman; with great courteousness he would have wooed his wife and initiated her into the bedchamber rituals in such a manner as would have been acceptable to her. Instead of which Jake Pennlyon had come with his crude buccaneering ways and he had taken this delicately nurtured creature and crushed her, for crushed she was, poor little bud who had been cruelly deflowered before the blossoms came. And her mind had become unhinged.

  I hate you, Jake Pennlyon, I thought; and my feelings against that man were intense while I could only feel pity for Felipe Gonzáles.

  Jake Pennlyon! How I wished I had never seen him. He had brought me nothing but disaster. Here I was a prisoner, each night submitted to an intolerable humiliation—because of Jake Pennlyon. My pride was ignored; my body was used to satisfy revenge. I was a substitute for a beautiful young girl whose mind had been destroyed by Jake Pennlyon and my seducer had to imagine that I was this girl in order to make love—if one could use such a word in this connection—to me.

  In addition to my humbled pride I was getting anxious about Honey. Her time was near. In the first year of her marriage she had had a miscarriage and I remembered my mother’s saying that the next time she must take the greatest care. In a few weeks now her child would be born; and what would happen if it came before its time? Who would care for her?

  I decided to see Felipe Gonzáles. I had seen very little of him really. I wondered whether he avoided me by day. Ours must have been one of the strangest relationships which ever existed.

  I knew that at certain times of the day he was often in the room which was called his escritorio and I decided that I would see him there. When I considered my feelings I realized that they had changed since I had seen Isabella. I was piqued because of what was implied in the fact that I had to wear Isabella’s clothes and use her scent; at the same time I felt a certain sympathy for him. I could imagine so much of what must have taken place: his arranged marriage which would have been ideal; his return to find his beautiful wife reduced to a shell. I imagined the ceremony of marriage which had followed and Isabella’s screaming terror when he approached her; and then the knowledge that she was to bear a child—Jake Pennlyon’s child. It was a tragedy and I understood how he must have called forth the wrath of heaven on the man who was responsible. I even understood his vow of vengeance.

  I was also angry that I, so desired by Jake Pennlyon and others, should have to be tricked out as someone else before this man could be sufficiently aroused to carry out his purpose. It was a vain and stupid emotion, I suppose, but I felt it.

  I had to see him and it was a fact that I was anxious about Honey.

  He was seated at a table with papers before him. He rose as I entered.

  “I gave orders that no one was to disturb me,” he said.

  “I have to see you,” I replied. “There is something of importance that I must say to you.”

  He bowed again—always courteous. I was glad of the darkened room. I felt embarrassed; I could have sworn he did too. Here we were two strangers by day but who by night shared the ultimate intimacy.

  I said: “I have come to see you on behalf of my sister.”

  He looked relieved. I sat down and he resumed his seat.

  “As you know she is shortly to have a child. At any moment her time may come. I should like to know what can be done for her.”

  “We have many servants,” he said.

  “She will need a midwife.”

  “There is a midwife in La Laguna.”

  “Then she must be brought here. It was no fault of my sister’s that she was taken away.”

  He conceded this. “Nor of any of us,” I went on angrily, hating his cold manner and thinking of his deluding himself that I was Isabella. “We have been dragged from our home to suit your evil purpose.”

  He held up his hand. “Enough,” he said. “The midwife shall be sent for.”

  “I suppose you would like me to thank you, but I find it difficult to thank you for anything.”

  “It is not necessary. Suffice it that the midwife shall come.”

  He half rose in his chair—a gesture of dismissal. But I did not wish to be dismissed. I was angry to be used in this manner and seeing him there in his elegant clothes, his cold face expressionless, his manner so precise, and thinking again of those nightly encounters and the way in which I had been used, robbed of my dignity, my will, everything to serve his revengeful purpose, my anger was so intense that I wanted to hurt him.

  I said: “I can only pray that ere long I shall be free of you.”

  “It is too soon yet,” he said. “But I pray with you that we shall both soon be relieved of this irksome duty.”

  My anger was so great that I could have struck him.

  I cried: “You appear to have no great difficulty in performing this irksome duty.”

  “
It is good of you to concern yourself on my behalf. May I assure you that we have substances which if taken judiciously arouse desire in the most reluctant.”

  “And how long am I expected to submit to this distasteful duty of yours?”

  “Rest assured that as soon as I am certain that my efforts have borne fruit I shall with the utmost pleasure and relief abandon my visits to you.”

  “I think I may well by this time be with child.”

  “We must be sure,” he said.

  “It is such an effort for you. I thought but to spare you.”

  “I have no wish to be spared from my revenge. The sooner I can effect it, the better.”

  “And when you are certain that your loathsome seed is growing within me I shall be taken back to my home?”

  “You will be returned to your affianced husband in the same condition that Isabella was left to me.”

  “You are indeed a vengeful man,” I said. “Others must be trampled underfoot for the sake of your revenge.”

  “It is often so.”

  “I despise you for your cruelty, your indifference to others, for your cold and calculating revengeful nature. But I suppose that is of no importance to you.”

  “None whatever,” he replied; and this time he stood up and bowed.

  So I left him. But I kept thinking about him all day and wondering how I could be revenged on him.

  Later that day the midwife rode into the courtyard on a mule and was brought to Honey. To our delight the woman could speak a little English. She was middle-aged and had been with a family in Cádiz which had had two English servants. Her English was of course limited, but it was a great relief to find she could understand a little.

  She told us that Honey’s condition was good and that the child was due in the next week or so. She would ask that she might stay at the Hacienda so that they would not have to send for her in the night.

  Jennet was present and suddenly the woman asked her when she was expecting.

  Jennet blushed scarlet. I looked at her in astonishment. Now that I knew it seemed clear, but she had certainly successfully hidden it from us.

  Jennet said she thought she was five months gone. The woman prodded her and said she would examine her. They went off together into the room leading from Honey’s where Jennet slept.

  “I’m not surprised,” said Honey. “It had to happen sooner or later. It will be Alfonso’s.”

  “I thought at first it might have been Rackell’s. What a strange affair that was. I’ll swear she has scarce been near him since we left.”

  “She couldn’t bear him after Alfonso.”

  “I think Jennet would be able to bear any man rather than none.”

  “You are often a little hard on her, Catharine. It can hardly be called her fault if that Spanish sailor has got her with child.”

  “I don’t think she was very reluctant.”

  “It would have been no good if she had been. She submitted, that was all.”

  “With a very good grace.”

  I began to laugh suddenly. “The three of us, Honey … think of it! All to have children. For I shall soon be in like case, I doubt not. And I am the only one who has had a child forced on me. How does one feel, I wonder, toward one’s bastard when rape has been the cause of his arrival? Of course it was a very courteous rape. I never thought it would be like that.” I started to laugh and suddenly the tears were on my cheeks. “I’m crying,” I said, “for the first time. I’m sorry for myself. There is so much hate in me, Honey … for him and for Jake Pennlyon. Between them they have done this. But for them I should be at home in the Abbey with my mother.”

  I covered my face with my hands and Honey was soothing me.

  “It was to have been so different. The way Carey and I planned our life together. It was going to be so wonderful.”

  “The things we plan rarely happen as we plan them, Catharine.”

  Her face was sad and wistful and I thought of Edward, her kind husband, lying in his own blood on the cobbles.

  “What is going to become of us all?” I asked.

  “Only the future can tell,” she replied.

  Jennet came back to us, her face flushed, a certain demureness in her expression.

  Yes, she was with child.

  “And knew it and kept it secret,” I accused.

  “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you,” said Jennet bashfully.

  “So you concealed it. You’ve been letting out your petticoats.”

  “Well, the need were there, Mistress.”

  “And you are five months with child.”

  “’Twas six in truth, Mistress,” said Jennet.

  I narrowed my eyes and looked at her.

  “Why,” I said, “it was before you left England.”

  “These midwives they can be mistaken, Mistress.”

  I said: “Jennet, will you go to my bedroom? I have just thought of something I wanted to say to you.”

  She went out and left us.

  Honey was saying what a relief it was to know that the midwife was near. I let her go on talking. I was thinking of what I would say to Jennet.

  Jennet looked at me shamefaced.

  “The truth, Jennet,” I said.

  “Oh, Mistress, you know.”

  I was not sure, but I said: “Don’t think you can deceive me, Jennet.”

  “I knew it’ud come out,” she said distressed. “But he were such a man. Why, not even Alfonso…”

  I took her by the shoulders and looked into her face. “Go on, Jennet,” I commanded.

  “’Tis his all right,” she murmured. “No mistake ’tis his. I wonder if my son ’ull be another like the Captain.”

  “Captain Jake Pennlyon, of course.” I spoke of him as I would speak of a loathsome snake.

  “Mistress, there were no saying no to him. He wouldn’t take it. He were the master and who could say him nay?”

  “Not you, Jennet,” I said angrily.

  “No, Mistress. You see he’d had his eye on me, and I knew ’twould come sooner or later. And I was helpless like. ’Twouldn’t have been no good, so I said what’s to be will be.”

  “As you did with Alfonso. You’d never be the victim of rape, Jennet. You’d be only too eager to submit. That was it, wasn’t it?”

  She did not answer. She kept her eyes downcast and once again I was amazed by her innocent looks.

  “When?” I demanded. For some reason I wanted to know in detail. I told myself I hated what had happened but I had to know.

  “’Twas on the night of the betrothal, Mistress. Oh, I was not to blame. I was took like … in place of you, it were.”

  “What nonsense you are talking, Jennet.”

  “Well, Mistress, ’twas the betrothal and I came to your room though I’d heard you say you were spending the night with the mistress, for he’d ridden over with you. I went in. The window was open wide and as I closed the door he stepped out from behind it and caught me. I was holding a candle and it dropped to the ground and went out. Then I heard him laugh.”

  She giggled a little and I shook her and said: “Go on.”

  “He took my chin in his hand and jerked my face up; he was roughlike. He were always roughlike in his ways. He said: ‘So it’s you. Where’s your mistress?’ And I said, ‘She bain’t here, Master.’ He said, ‘I can see that. Where is she?’ And I said, ‘She won’t be here tonight. She be with the other mistress.’ And he got it out of me what I’d heard that because he was here and you didn’t trust him to stay away you were staying with the mistress. He was angry and I was frightened. He cursed and swore and it was against you. He was wanting you, Mistress, bad he was. He was wild he were because when he’d heard my footsteps he’d thought they were yours.”

  I laughed aloud. “So he was cheated, was he?”

  “He reckoned so. And he was angry. And I said I’d go and tell you he were here and he said: ‘You little fool, do you think that will bring her?’ And I believe he was i
n two minds to come and get you. But even he couldn’t do that in his neighbor’s house, could he? So he made me stay and he said, ‘We’ll make believe, Jennet. You’ll be your mistress tonight.’ And then it happened, Mistress. I was powerless. There never was such a time.”

  “In my bed!”

  “I’d meant to straighten up, Mistress. But there weren’t time. He went at dawn; and I fell into such a sleep. Well, Mistress, it had been such a night … and when I woke it was late and I went to my room to get myself looking shipshape like … and by the time I came back you’d seen the room and the bed and…”

  “The scene of your triumph, Jennet.”

  “What’s that, Mistress?”

  “And because of that he got you with child.”

  She was again bashful. “There were other times. When you had the sweat he used to come over … and he’d command me to go to Lyon Court, he would.”

  “And you did of course.”

  “I dursn’t disobey him.”

  “Jennet,” I said, “you are a false servant. This is the second time you have betrayed me.”

  “I wouldn’t have, Mistress. It was just that it were beyond my power.”

  “From him to Alfonso and I’ll warrant you sneak into someone’s bed in this place!”

  “’Tis into the stables, Mistress. One of the grooms.”

  “Spare me your disgusting details.” I kept thinking of Jake Pennlyon waiting in that room for me and taking Jennet. And I thought of the similarity of my own affair with Felipe Gonzáles, who pretended that the woman he visited each night was Isabella instead of me.

  “And it did not occur to you that because of your lust you might bring some unfortunate infant into the world?”

  “Oh, it did, Mistress, but then Sir Penn have had many such, but he always looked after ’em. They always had a good place somewhere and I said to myself ’twill be the same with Captain Jake.”

  “You were mistaken.”

  “It changed, though, Mistress. Who could have known that we’d be on the high seas and in this place? Who could have foretold that?”

  She stood before me forlorn, yet her eyes were alight with the memories of her liaison with that man.

  I wondered why I had failed to notice that she was pregnant. It seemed so obvious now.