The Miracle at St. Bruno's

by Филиппа Карр

  "Thank you, Rupert. You have always been good to me.”

  After he had gone I continued to think of him. If I could have loved him instead of Bruno, life would have been less complicated. But one cannot love where it would be wise to do so, for love and wisdom do not go hand in hand.

  I had no regrets, I assured myself. But I liked to remember that Rupert was my staunch friend.

  At last the month of June was with us. Bruno had recently returned from the Continent.

  He had little to say about his visit and I found myself scarcely curious because the baby's arrival was imminent.

  My mother came almost every day. When she had satisfied herself that my condition could give no cause for alarm she turned her attention to the state of the little garden James had made for me. James was a man of about thirty. Whether he had been a monk, or a lay brother, I had never asked. I felt it was wiser to know nothing.

  In any case his knowledge of plants was good and my roses almost rivaled those of my mother.

  She and I sat there and talked of babies; she recalled some of the mannerisms I had shown in my infancy but her talk was chiefly of Paul and Peter. She was knotting a shawl for my baby as she talked and her fingers moved busily. It occurred to me that she was a great deal more content than she used to be in the old days and I marveled at this. It seemed strange that anyone could find Simon Caseman a more satisfactory husband than my father, but that was what she appeared to have done.

  She was telling me that she had been to see the midwife who assured her that everything concerning me appeared to be going well and a normal birth was expected. She had arranged that as soon as my first pains started she was to be sent for.

  I felt a sudden rush of affection for her.

  "I never really knew how much you cared for me," I said.

  She turned quite pink and said: "Nonsense! Were you not my own child?”

  Then I fell to musing that what had been the great tragedy of my youth had to her in a way been an escape, and how strange life was when nothing seemed to be wholly bad, nothing wholly good.

  A few days later my pains did start, but by that time, due to my mother's care, the midwife was already installed at the Abbey.

  My labor was not prolonged and for me the joy of knowing that my baby would soon be in my arms exceeded any discomfort. It was necessarily an agonizing experience but I had so longed for my baby that I could endure it as I suppose martyrs do torture and death.

  At last it was over and when I heard the cry of my child my heart leaped with joy.

  I saw my mother-for once authoritative-and the midwife and Bruno.

  "My baby... ," I began.

  My mother was beaming. "A beautiful healthy baby.”

  I held out my arms.

  "Later, Damask. In a very short time you shall see your lovely little girl.”

  A girl! I felt the tears in my eyes. I believed then that I had wanted a girl.

  I noticed Bruno then. He had not spoken. He would want to see his daughter.

  But there was the child; they laid her in my arms and I thought: "This is the happiest moment of my life.”

  I had known that Bruno had been convinced that the child would be a boy but I had not thought he could be so bitterly disappointed.

  He scarcely looked at the child. As for myself, I could not bear her out of my sight.

  During those first nights I would sometimes awake from a hazy dream in which she was no longer with me. I would leap up calling for the nurse. "My baby. Where is my baby?”

  I would have to be assured that she was sleeping peacefully in her cot.

  The christening ceremony was simple-not the solemn occasion which would have been accorded to a boy. Bruno seemed scarcely interested. He was still nursing his disappointment in the child's sex. I thought: I will make up for his indifference, my darling child. I shall love you so much that you will miss nothing.

  She was named Catherine-a version of Kate's name and that of the two Queens. I called her my little Cat. She was an ugly baby, said the midwife, and whispered the consolation that it was always those who were born ugly who became the real beau- tics I was sure she was right for my little Cat grew prettier every day.

  THE PASSING OF AN AGE

  ALL THROUGH that year I was so absorbed with my child that I gave little thought to what was going on in the Abbey. There were great changes of course and this was Bruno's first harvest. Activity was everywhere. From the old barns came the sound of the threshing. Some of the animals had to be slaughtered that November and salted to provide food for the winter. I was but vaguely aware of all this because my entire thoughts were concentrated on my baby. If she sneezed I would send for my mother and she would come with many possets and lotions; and she would reassure me with her laughter, telling me that she had been the same when I was a baby.

  "All these anxieties come with the first," she told me. "Wait until you have your second. You will not be half as fearful.”

  My baby flourished. She was the joy of my life. I marveled at her tiny hands and feet; her eyes were blue and wondering; when she first smiled at me my heart filled with an overflowing love and I cared for nothing that had gone before since it had brought me my child.

  The world outside began to intrude on the little paradise I shared with my baby.

  There was a letter from Kate.

  "I am coming to see you. I must have a glimpse of my... what is she? Cousin of some sort, I suppose.”

  I smiled. How typical of Kate to think of the child's connection with her!

  "According to you she is the most wonderful child who ever existed but a mother's testimonial is rarely accurate. So I must come and see this model of perfection for myself. Remus is going to Scotland on the King's business.

  So while he is away, why should I not visit St. Bruno's Abbey?”

  I was delighted as always at the prospect of seeing Kate, but a little uneasy for she had a penetrating eye and she was particularly interested in the relationship between Bruno and myself, which had not grown closer since Catherine's birth. Moreover I was perfectly content with my child.

  Kate arrived in due course, full of vitality and as beautiful as ever.

  "How convenient that we should not be too far away!" she announced. "What if I had married a Scottish lord? It would not have been so easy for us to meet." She scrutinized me. "Damask! The Mother! It suits you, Damask. You are more plump. Quite the matron.

  No, scarcely that. But different. And where is this paragon who is named after me?”

  "I call her my little Cat," I said fondly.

  She admired the baby. "Yes, a little beauty. Well, Cat, what do you think of Cousin Kate?”

  My baby gave Kate that beautiful smile and Kate bent over and kissed her.

  "There, sweetheart," she said, "we are to be good friends.”

  I could see that she was not so much interested in the child as intensely curious about the state of affairs between Bruno and myself. She talked openly about Remus.

  She was patronizing in a tolerant way, but she was certainly grateful for the life of luxury which she owed to him.

  Carey came with her-a lovely boy nearly two years old, curious, mischievous and with a look of Kate.

  He was interested in little Cat and would stand by her cot gazing at her. She liked him too, it seemed. And there was of course Honey whom I had been particularly careful not to neglect since the arrival of my baby. I wanted them to grow up as sisters but I suppose it was inevitable that she should be a little jealous, for try as I might I could not entirely hide my absorption with my own child.

  I washed and fed Catherine myself but I would make sure to always have Honey by to help. "She is only little, Honey," I would say. "Not a big girl like you. She has much to learn.”

  That cheered her a little.

  "She is your little sister," I said; and I thought then that if Keziah's story was true Honey was in fact my baby's aunt.

  But now Kate was with us an
d life naturally changed. She was curious about everything that was going on in the Abbey. She watched it with a sort of envy which told me that she was imagining herself here in my place.

  When Bruno joined us I was aware of her feelings for him. His feelings for her were more guarded, but I knew that he was not indifferent to her.

  She was of course knowledgeable about what was going on at Court and loved to show off her superiority in that respect.

  The King was looking for a new wife.

  "Poor man, he is so unlucky with his wives! And now no woman is very anxious for the greatest honor in the land. Girls tremble when the King casts a lascivious eye in their direction. They are inclined to say Anne Boleyn's famous remark in reverse as it were, 'Nay, Sire, your wife I cannot be. I would lie for be your mistress.’“

  "I pity the poor woman he chooses next," I said.

  "She will be a woman who has married before, you may be sure of it. This new statute would terrify an unmarried girl. You know it has now been declared high treason for anyone not a virgin to marry the King. Parents are afraid to send their young daughters to Court.”

  "Perhaps he will not marry at all for he is no longer young.”

  "He is nearly fifty years of age, and overweight. He has an ulcer on his leg which is quite offensive. But he is a King withal and his courtiers wait upon his smiles and scurry from his frowns. So he has great attraction left.”

  "Is power more important than handsome looks and youth?" I asked.

  "Power is the very essence of masculine charm, I do assure you. I could never love the most beautiful cowherd in the world but I might easily feel affection for an aging King.”

  "How cynical you have become!”

  "I have not become so. Come now, you know I have always been so.”

  "Well, pray do not cast your eyes upon the King for strange as it may seem I should suffer a pang or two of sorrow if your head was severed from your shoulders.”

  "It has always been firmly planted thereon and there I intend it to remain. My dear cousin, what pleasure it gives me to be with you! Forget you not that I am married to Remus and unless he meets a gory end in Scotland, which is not unlikely since he carries arms there for the King and the battles have been fierce, I am in no position to take another husband.”

  "Oh, Kate, do not talk so!”

  "You are still the same sentimental Damask. Nay, have no fear for me. I shall know how to take care of myself if I should become a widow.”

  "I had no idea that it was in order to fight that Lord Remus was in Scotland.”

  "The young mother sees not beyond her nest. Did you not know that our King, having lost his wife to the executioner's ax, has turned his attention-temporarily-to other matters? He wished to be proclaimed King of Scotland. So, Remus in the company of His Grace of Norfolk has now marched over the border. I hear that the Scots have been thoroughly routed and I do believe that His Majesty the King is preparing to join his forces there. So you see, my Remus, between His Grace of Norfolk uncle of two Queens-and the King himself, will be in the best of company. As I am, for I do declare, my sweet Damask, that little gives me as much pleasure as my discourse with you.”

  And so we talked of matters at Court and we went over the past and recalled incidents from our childhood as one does with those who have shared it.

  She was very content to leave Carey with the children and I saw less of my little daughter during Kate's stay than I had since her birth. But much as I enjoyed Kate's company I longed to assure myself continually that my child was not in some danger.

  Kate might laugh at me as my mother did but I could not help this. The child was dearer to me than anything on earth.

  We dined at eleven in the morning and supped at six o'clock. Meals were taken in the big hall and all came to table. It meant very little opportunity of intimate conversation. I sat on one side of Bruno, Kate on the other and often I would catch her eyes sparkling with a mischief of which I could not quite understand.

  I could not discover their feelings toward each other. Kate's was light and bantering; he was inclined to be quiet, but he was watchful of her, I know.

  Clement excelled himself during Kate's visit. There were big joints of beef and mutton succulently cooked; there were enormous pies and he often decorated these with the Remus coat of arms in honor of Kate. There was bacon, fowls, butter and cheese in plenty. And Bruno was anxious for us to try the carrots and turnips which he had recently brought in and which were fast becoming very popular.

  There was often talk about the work of the farm and those whose duty it was to fish and prepare what they caught for our table or to sell it would talk of the day's catch in their places below the salt cellar.

  Kate listened attentively and occasionally she would banter with Bruno or with me.

  The children did not join us, none of them being old enough.

  Sometimes when I was in my nursery Kate would wander around the Abbey grounds.

  Once she came back and said: "Damask, what is happening here? This is becoming more like a monastery and Bruno is like the King of his domain. I doubt there is another such community in England at this time. What do you know of Bruno?”

  "I don't understand you, Kate.”

  "You should know him. He is your husband.”

  "Of course I know him." Even as I spoke I knew I lied.

  "What is he like... as a husband?”

  "He is a busy man. There is much to do.”

  "Is he affectionate, kind, Damask? How passionately does he love you?”

  "You are too full of questions.”

  "I want to know, Damask. He wanted a son, did he not? How was he when he found he had a daughter?" She laughed almost triumphantly and I hated her in that moment because I felt she was pleased because I had had a daughter and not the son for which Bruno longed.

  "He wanted a son. True he wanted a son. What man does not? He was a little disappointed.”

  "Only a little? Parents are generally pleased with what they get. Not Kings though... and those who are Kings. Poor Anne Boleyn! She lost her head because she could not give the King a son.”

  "She lost her head because the King preferred another woman.”

  "If she had had a son he would never have rid himself of her. Sly little Jane and her ambitious uncles would have to have been content for her to hold sway as mistress instead of wife. Still, it is a lesson, is it not? It is dangerous to sport with Princes.”

  Later she talked of the days when we had discovered Bruno and all met together in the Abbey grounds.

  "Everything that happens to us has its effect," said Kate. "What we are today is due to what happened to us then. We three started weaving a pattern. We shall go on with it for the rest of our lives.”

  "You mean Bruno, you and me?”

  "You know very well I mean just that. We shall always be involved with each other.

  We will be like fruit on a tree... first the buds, then the fruit and when our time comes we shall drop off one by one. But we shall always be on the same branch, Damask. Remember that.”

  I did remember it after she had gone, and I wondered what she and Bruno said to each other when they met and I was not present. I wondered what passed between them.

  But it did not seem of any great importance. I was absorbed by my child.

  That December the King marched up to Scotland and defeated the Scots at Solway Moss.

  We did not talk very much about the war. Scotland seemed far away. But for his services to the Crown the King presented Lord Remus with an estate on the border with the result that he remained there for some months so that Kate came to visit us once more.

  I knew that she had left us most reluctantly. The Abbey fascinated her still as it had when we were children. She would wander off alone and I believe she often went to that spot where we all used to meet. She was not sentimental, she insisted, it was merely a pleasant spot and it was rather amusing to recall old times.

  I saw her once
or twice with Bruno. I wondered if he talked to her of his plans and I wondered whether she warned him of making the place too similar to what it had been in the old days.

  She said that I had become too much the housewife, the fussy mother, my thoughts straying to the nursery when she wished to discuss something serious with me. I pointed out that her notion of serious talk was generally gossip. This she conceded but added that gossip was at the very roots of great events. I should know that by now.

  It was June again-Catherine's first birthday. Clement made a cake for her and we had a little ceremony in the nursery. I suppose Carey and Honey enjoyed it more than Catherine, but she was such a bright child and her eyes were round with wonder as she watched the other children.

  Kate refused to come to the celebration; so did Bruno. I felt resentful toward them both for this; but Kate snapped her fingers. So at the party were myself and their nurses; Clement and Eugene who adored the children joined us and played games to the amusement of the young people. Clement was very good at crawling around the floor like a dog carrying them on his back while he barked realistically.

  I laughed so much to see them.

  Kate was full of Court gossip as usual, for the King had found his new wife.

  "Poor lady!" cried Kate. "They say she is somewhat reluctant. She adores Thomas Seymour.

  What a man! Uncle of the young Prince Edward and... irresistible. But the King has cast his eyes in her direction and so Master Thomas for all his buccaneering ways must needs retreat and Lady Katharine Latimer, another Kate, you see, how his Grace seems to love the Kates, albeit briefly-though retiring and reluctant has no choice when the royal finger points to her and says, 'You are the next.' “

  And so it was, for within a few weeks the King married Katharine Parr. Kate was disappointed that the wedding, although celebrated openly, was to take place in Hampton Court which meant of course that she would not be invited to attend.

  "How different from his marriages to those other English ladies, Anne Boleyn and Katharine Howard. They, poor ladies, were married secretly and in haste. There is no need to hasten over this.”

  "I wonder how she feels," I said. "How would one feel if one's predecessors had either been disposed of or died at one's bridegroom's command?”